The forest was quiet, even the birds had silenced their song in anticipation of the elven army that marched through the thick undergrowth heading for the plains of Dudarian. It had been two months since the humans had begun the invasion of the elven country of Atheria and its four kingdoms. The Woodland Realm, a vast city hidden deep within the great forest of Averliss. It's king Mirrivor ruled with great confidence, never doubting that he and his beautiful city would endure. The Woodland Realm was the closest elven city to the neighboring human countries that surrounded Atheria on the northern and eastern borders. To the south was the high elven city of Alfisir located in the southern lands of Atheria. Built deep into a mountainside the complexity and wonder of the high elven designs was unequaled. Their ruler Sarien ruled in immense secrecy. He felt that if he did not attract the attention of his enemies the city would be safe. The final elven city located in Atheria was Darkoth. Located close to the vast Adrillic Sea to the very west of Atheria it's people had conquered and settled the land. No one could match their superior tactics and soldiers, for they had thousands of years to hone and perfect their army. Their city was the perfect match of beauty, power and might.
The army emerged from the forest and onto the vast plains that on the other side marked the borders of Atheria. The army was 7,000 strong with a little over half of it archers and a mixture of spearmen and swordsmen. Their golden tinted armor shone like a river as the marched onto the field and formed ranks. On the eastern side of the plains stood the grand, united army of the Humans.
They were the barbaric inhabitants of the countries to the North and East of Atheria, they were plunderers, notorious for their ability to move their army into any country, sack the nearby towns and small cities and leave with the plunder. All in the span of a few short weeks. Before any armies could be mustered to counter them. This time however they did not come for plunder. They wanted the elven land for themselves. They had summoned every single soldier from their grand cities to even their small, individual clans for this task.
They were uncountable, they almost seemed to block the horizon. The human armies stood stock still as the elves began to form ranks. They did not move at all, their grey, plated armor seemed to turn black as the late morning sun reflected off of it. They were armed with a variety of weapons, all coming from their different preferences. They ranged from great warhammers to small war axes and longswords.
Deep within their armies, three generals watched the elves emerge from the forest, deep in conversation.
"Keep the infantry prepared to follow up the charge of the calvary, we cannot allow the elves to rest," one said
"No, the cavalry should be able to break their lines with their sheer numbers alone." another replied. "I agree the cavalry will break them." The final one stated.
"Very well then, send in the cavalry." The general who had spoken first said to one of his officers who relayed the orders to the horn blowers.
The elven army heard a long deep note from the human horns and watched as the ranks in the humans parted and out came hundreds of cavalrymen riding at full gallop in an arrow like formation headed right for their center. A fair voice called out and the elven archers drew, nocked and released in one smooth motion. The volley of arrows were on their way. The sky darkened slightly as thousands of arrows went sailing through the air and began to descend on the approaching cavalry. The volley struck home sending men and horses alike into the ground, unmoving. Though more still charged onward. The elven army shifted with mechanical precision and now the archers were in the front of the army and they shot off another volley straight at the calvary instead of the arc shape before. The second volley did just as much damage as the first sending even more soldiers to the ground right at the archer's feet. The few survivors of the charge continued, determined to crush the elves before them. The ground shook and the thundering hooves of the cavalry was deafening. The spearmen shifted and they faced the oncoming horsemen. Spears bristled from the line as the horses drew nearer and nearer. They smashed into the phalanx at full force and men and horses alike fell the the deadly elven spears. Some had made it through though the momentum of their charge was lost and they were cut down quickly by the advancing elven swordsmen.
"I told you we should have sent the infantry behind them." The general who had proposed the idea said.
"It wouldn't have been any different, their spearmen stepped in front of their archers faster than our infantry would begin to engage with them." Another argued.
"The elves are firing again" The third said bringing both bickering generals back to the battle at hand.
The elves had advanced past the bodies of the cavalry and had begun to loose volley after volley onto the the humans raised shields, they stood stock still, waiting for the generals command. They all exchanged glances and said in unison "Send everyone, Butcher them."
The elven army watched the humans begin to advance with their shields held high, their echoed as one. The archers ceased their firing, there was little that arrows could do now. The innumerable amount of humans marched forward with relentless determination. They were drawing close to the elven armies front lines now and many began to break away from the cover of the shield wall and charge.
The elven army shifted again and two rows of archers had moved just behind the spearmen, firing directly at the gigantic mass. The rest of the archers had moved to the left and right flanks of the army and were also firing directly at the humans from the left and right flanks of the army. The arrows were taking their toll as many humans began to fall. This did little more than spark the rage of the remaining humans and they all broke the cover of the shield wall and began to charge straight at the elves. The archers shifted again and the swordsmen made up the rows behind the spearmen where the archers had just been. Even while they were in the back of the army the archers continued to rain arrows down upon the mass of soldiers approaching. The spearmen braced against their shields and readied their spears for combat, the swordsmen behind them prepared to charge through the spearmen and into the intense melee that would occur once the fighting began. Even the archers from the back of the army sensed that the true battle was about to begin and they fired all the faster, trying with all their might to slow or even stop the humans relentless charge. The battlefield was in anarchy, the humans charged madly at the elves screaming deafening battle cries. The entire elven army braced for the impact. The spearmen tightened their grip on their spears and the swordsmen behind them became even more tense, ready to charge once the front line began the melee. Even the archers ceased fire to brace for the impact of the impending charge.
They were so close now and were nearly within range of a spear throw when a fair voice called out among the fray.
"A dee bea kah!"
The elven army began to move and just before the humans could reach the spearmen, all of the swordsmen behind them charged through them and into the humans. The elven swordsmen had stopped the momentum of the charge but they were now stuck in combat with the humans. Swordsmen fell left and right to the gigantic horde of humans that stood before them. Then the same fair voice called out among the battle.
"Amon son khan!"
At this command the swordsmen broke contact with the humans and retreated back into the safety of the elven army. Right as the spearmen made their own charge. The effect was that the humans had no more momentum to smash into the elves and were now stuck in front of the impenetrable phalanx before them.
The swordsmen reformed and moved through the line of spearmen and into the bulk of the fighting. The battle was now in full swing, even the archers kept their swords loose in the scabbards, preparing for the inevitable.
In the thick of the fighting, among the deafening sound of screams and cries of the dead or dying stood Forniver. He bore an ornate golden triangular body shield that had once shone brilliantly with the markings of his kin now stood bent and rent. He also bore a leaf bladed sword which once stood as strong and proud as the dawn but now rested in his hand, a shadow of its former glory, the very end had broken off in the chest of a human soldier and the rest of the blade had been smashed nearly to pieces from the blow of a hammer. He was one in a line of other elven soldiers who were in the same condition, if not worse, for this single line was the only one left between the barbaric humans and the vulnerable elven archers. They were fighting with every last breath and the humans fell quickly to the line. Still the elves were tired and the humans were numerous and every single one was charging their small line endlessly.
Forniver winced as three humans crashed into his shield, he would have been knocked on his back had the archers behind him not held him still. Forniver lashed out with his sword and his shield acted as a gate, opening and closing and his sword danced in and out. It was not long before those three were dead but then four more rushed into him. He cut them down as he did the other three, his arm had lost all feeling long before this moment but now it began to ache. His shield arm felt worse, it felt as if it had been shattered to pieces, over and over and over.
Every time that a soldier rammed into his shield the pain would come again and it would be great. Still he and the others in the line held firm and the relentless number of humans could not break them. Forniver's strength began to fail, his legs were weary from constantly bracing against the numerous humans, his sword arm that once slashed and stabbed like a snake now waved about clumsily, even his head was aching from the noises all around. The sound of the humans hitting the shields, the grunts of his comrades as they took the force, the wailing of the humans as they were cut down, and the cries of the wounded. It was deafening, Forniver could hear their screams he glanced down and saw the once proud army of the elves now sprawled across a field running red with streaks of blood.
Forniver felt tears begin to develop in his eyes. The sight of his dead kin nearly shattered his focus. With that sadness came anger, adrenaline began to flow anew in his system. Forniver looked at the humans before him and raised his shield higher, his sword struck now with renewed fervor. With each human that fell three more would come to replace him but still Forniver resolved that he would cut down every last one of them to avenge his dead kin. Nevertheless the rest of the line was failing and the relentless humans began to push the elven shield wall back towards the archers. Then something unexpected happened.
Forniver could feel bodies begin to push past him, he looked to his left and saw them. The archers that he and the other elves were doing their best to protect, had drawn their swords and had charged past the line in one final, desperate move. Forniver realized how tired he was and lowered his shield to catch his breath. He was exhausted, he could not feel his arms and his entire body ached from the constant feeling of men colliding with his shield. He watched the archers begin to drive the humans back. Even though they were not trained with melee weapons, elven archers were famous for being ferocious in hand to hand combat as well as fighting at long range. The humans however knew nothing other than fighting and despite the elven archers surprise charge, many fell to the ground, their faces a mixture of shock and fear. Forniver saw this and charged back into the fray. He bashed one humans axe away and then used his sword to hack into the humans unprotected neck. The blade sliced through with almost no resistance and stopped when it struck the spine. He yanked the blade free as he parried away a greatsword bound for his head with his shield. He turned to face the human when two elven archers came from the fray and plunged their blades into the human's side. Forniver nodded his thanks and continued the fight.
The generals observed from their shady tent at the battle before them.
"They have rallied, and are holding us at bay." One general stated, the one who had suggested that the infantry follow the cavalry.
"They are holding their ground as well, our casualties are becoming a problem." The second general added.
"It matters not, they are nearly all gone, our casualties mean nothing. All that does is that we have the elven lands for ourselves." The third general finally stated, it was clear that he wanted every single elf dead, no matter how many humans they took with them.
"Well we cannot conquer this land if we kill every single one of its residents, it will only serve to inspire others who have not already fought." The first general who had spoken argued.
"I agree, if we kill all of the survivors here then our numbers will not be strong enough to continue this campaign." The second stated.
"We cannot retreat now, not when we are so close to victory." The third said pointing to the small clump of golden clad elven warriors.
"We have lost far too many for one battle, we cannot continue this fight" The first said and the second nodded his head. The third general looked to his advisors, the looks on their faces said that they agreed with what the other two generals were saying. Slowly the third general nodded his head.
"Give the order." He said grudgingly.
"Hey everyone, it's been a really long time since I have posted something. I have been working on this for a long time, trying to perfect it so please leave your feedback so that I can improve. I am thinking of turning this into a series. Don't forget to leave a comment and tell me what you thought. Hang loose lads.