The Last Stand
Upon the wall that closed the plain between the three mountains stood four leaders of the Peacekeepers. Liado, brother of the slain Hossen king Koma, Isaac Rockwood, armed with his unbreakable pointed staff, Wolph, his gleaming red eyes scanning the darkness, and Vashham Kalent, leader of the Human army and wielder of flames. They stood side by side, peering over the parapet and trying to think of a way out.
The whole of the Hossen army had advanced and trapped them in their own city, guarded on the west, east, and south by mountains that they had not the courage to attempt to scale and on the north by the wall that stretched from the west to the east. The Hossens are a two-lived race, able to die once before losing their Human appearance and replace it with the skeletal body that arises a few minutes after death. Hossen campfires lit the steppe outside the wall for as far as any of the four could see, even Wolph.
Liado had joined the Human cause right after his own species had assassinated his brother to give rise to a tyrant. He himself had also been attacked by an assassin, but his double-bladed sword proved too much. The assassin got in one good shot, and left a scar running strait down Liado's brow and under his eye. That eye remained open, but the vision had been stolen from it. He had been with the Peacekeepers only a year, but his reputation and relation to the dead king gave him high respect.
Isaac Rockwood was formerly the only Human in Koma's personal guard, but after a failed assassination attempt, Isaac was blamed by the mutinous Tajhez (Koma's general and right-hand man, also the one who had Koma killed and claimed the throne) for causing injury to the king and was therefore forced into exile without the king's consent. After wondering the wilds and slaying thieves and whatever villains he could find, he met Vashham and was welcomed heartily into the small Human realm. Out of gratitude, he pledged servitude to the Human leader and was serving his duty as a mighty leader of the army. His wooden staff stood as tall as he was with a point burned into one end, and it seemed impossible to break. The might of his staff had earned him his last name, as he was deemed by an old friend. The name stuck.
Wolph was a man that any normal person would fear at first glance. His eyes were a gleaming red, like a dog looking into a light. The gift of his eyes was what he saw. Everything to him was in various shades of red borderlined thinly in white. In the day he saw slightly better than the average man, but at night his sight could not be matched by anything, man or beast. This gift had left him unbeatable archery skills, and he had not missed a target since he was seven years old. He also carried with him two long daggers for melee, and he was formidable with the lightly damaging weapons.
Then there was Vash. He and Wolph were the highest people in the Human society, for it was they who Koma had tasked to rebuild the Human empire. That had freed them from their days of arena fighting together, and neither could complain of that. Vashham was, in essence, their king, but he refused to claim such a title. He called himself an ambassador and an overseer, but he refused to take on the strict heading of a king, or any other royalty. Vashham also had a gift, a gift that even Wolph, after all their years together, was still amazed by. After being stuck in the upper body by a flaming wooden support beam, Vashham could produce and manipulate fire to his liking. He could do anything from create a writhing sphere in the palm of his hand to shooting enormous spurts through the air to slay enemies. Clad in studded leather armor and a studded steel helm, Vashham needed little protection. With his father's scimitar in one hand and his ever-sharp custom katana in the other, Vashham was unstoppable. He was the fighter feared by all who did evil, for his principles and honor had no tolerance for such people. He was a known name to every sentient species on the earth, Humans, Hossens, and Orcs. Those with good hearts respected and honored him, and the world's reprobates wished never to cross his path.
"They are an endless sea." Vash nodded. Even he, the man who it was said knew no fear, was having his doubts.
"Why do they wait? Why not get it over with?" Liado grew edgy and impatient, desiring nothing more than cut down those who had slain his kin.
"They marched many men a long distance in a short while. They want rest. Also, they play games with us. They want us to see their numbers. They have many men, and they take their strength in quantity, not quality. We have about five thousand superb combatants, and they have about three hundred thousand decent soldiers mixed with poor mercenaries. We will stay and fight. Have the men get some rest and evacuate those unable to fight out through the mountains. You also get rest. I shall take watch this night. In two days, a red sun will rise." (a blood red sun rose and turned the sky its same color on the day following massive bloodshed)
Daylight awoke Wolph. The first thing he noticed was the noise. It was silent. Wolph put on his equipment and walked outside. What he saw scared the life out of him while somehow giving him a wave of pride.
The men stood in the city courtyard and atop the walls in full uniform and in proper formation. They were in perfect attention, every eye forward, every back strait, every spear up, every mouth closed, and every ear awaiting orders. They know they are to die, Wolph thought. He scaled the stairs and found Vashham taking in the situation. Wolph laid eyes for the first time upon the enemy and those around him heard the air rush from his lungs in an attempt to escape before he died.
The Hossens, too, were in formation. Trebuchets lined the back, siege towers were up front, and the rest of infantry was in between. The infantry stood in rows, gleaming in the reflecting light. Good Lord, he thought, they look like a crop. Like a cornfield. A cornfield of death. These are the crops that shall assuredly poison the farmer.
Wolph turned as he saw that Vashham was going to address the men. In his eyes there was pride and honor. In his voice was unfathomable rage.
"There comes a time in every man's life when all you can see is what you've missed, what you've given up to get where you are. I know not what kind of man I could've become. What I do know is that I am proud of the man I am. I am proud of the men that you have become, and it is the greatest honor a man can ask for to be your leader.
Today you may feel like giving up. Like not even trying, just because of what you see out there. Look behind me, and you'll see a sight that will strike fear in your hearts. Look behind me, and you'll think that all you've lived for, all that you've done will be lost because you think you are going to die. Look beside you. Look at your comrades. That fellowship, that connection between all of you, is an accomplishment that surpasses death. That pride will be with you for as long as this world stands.
There is no victory without defeat. There is no gain without loss. There is no healing without pain. There is no accomplishment without sacrifice. Well we have been defeated. We have had tremendous losses. Not one among you has gone without pain. And never is the day that your sacrifice be matched. Everything has an end. Let us make them remember ours!!"
The Hossens felt the ground pulsating from the cheers, and the rocks on the mountainside began to fall. A chunk of the mountain fell and crushed fifty Hossens and killed thirty more as it rolled. The siege towers lurched forward and motion in the distance told Vashham that the trebuchets had begun their bombardment. Wolph noticed more siege engines hidden amongst the infantry: ballistae and a single mangonel.
"Ladders! Hooks! Prepare arms!" Shields and spears were gripped harder as the men waited. Berserkers were up in no time, armed with daggers and steel claws on the back of their hands, allowing for precise and quick strikes. They wreaked havoc into the ranks, buying time for the regular footmen and decimating the defenders, just like a berserker is supposed to. Wolph watched one of his arrows punch a hole through the thick helm of a berserker and into its brain, driving it off its feet and into a ladder, toppling it. He hadn't tried to do that, but Wolph wasn't going to complain.
Liado was in the gatehouse atop the walls, his section of the massive wall being overrun and his allies around him dead. He spun around rapidly, his double-bladed sword audibly slicing through the enemy with unbelievable speed. His holding point protected him from any archers down below, so his chances of survival were great. Liado was not tiring, and he had survived a wave of berserkers and was facing the mediocre Hossens. He had a gash on his shoulder and a small cut on his side, but they were nothing more than an annoyance. Neither one was even close to fatal, and only one was bleeding. Liado's rage drove his unusual weapon, and the Peacekeepers knew he would be able to hold himself off for a long time.
Wolph ran his dagger across the throat of the kneeling Hossen before him and bellowed, "Archers! Put some flames on those towers!" The massive devices would be upon the walls in about ten minutes, and Wolph knew he had delayed the order too long. He watched as fire slowly crept its way around a few of the towers and two stopped altogether as flaming Hossens cut holes in the walls and leapt through. One managed to catch hold of the wall in front of Wolph and look up just in time to see one bow pulling back two shafts. The force of an arrow in each eye from point-blank range sent the creature flailing down into the ranks of its allies.
Liado looked out the window just in time to see a massive ballista bolt flying toward him. He dove out of the way and rolled onto his stomach as the giant projectile clipped the windowsill as it entered and took out the entire back wall as it fell into the courtyard below. He jumped to his feet and threw his weapon like a spear into the groin of the Hossen that had just entered the door. Pulling his longsword from his belt, the crazed Hossen went on, not giving a care as he slew his vile people.
Isaac Rockwood faced four Hossens in the courtyard. He wore no armor and his cloak swirled around him as he continued his deadly offensive, making him harder to follow and harder to hit. The pointed end of his staff found the nose of a skeletal Hossen and withdrew as it fell dead. The other three lined up side-by-side to face him, their skeleton faces forever frozen in a ghastly grin. Rocks fell about them before all three were crushed by a massive bolt, which Isaac assumed was from a ballista. He looked up and saw Liado in what was left of the gatehouse, and he appeared to be dancing as those foolish enough to enter fell. Isaac was blinded as a writhing ball of flame crashed through the roof, spraying stones and rubble. Isaac cursed the trebuchets and went to find someone to kill.
Wolph stood on the wall as the siege tower rolled up. He held his bowstring back, along with the four arrows notched, waiting for the ramp to drop. As soon as it opened, Wolph saw two Hossens drive back, each with two shafts in their chest. He threw down his bow and leapt onto the ramp, daggers in hand, slicing his way through enemy ranks and into the structure itself. He was strategically secure, for archers on the ground below could not hit him and the enemy had to come over ladders to reach him. Wolph had a strong point, and he intended to hold it.
Vashham was in the courtyard hacking at those who made it off the wall. His blades moved too fast to follow and Hossens were slain before they saw any movement. After an hour of struggling, Vashham and the Peacekeepers were not tired, for they had been trained hard to gain massive endurance. Vash heard a horn, and it was one that he knew from years ago: the horn of Cavern Orcs. They inhabited the mountains, dwelling within the dark labyrinth of tunnels and caves. Known for cannibalism of their dead and renowned for footspeed, they were quite a force. The mountains around them became alive as the Hossens called for aid using the horn of a captured Cavern Orc. "Wolph! Isaac! Liado! To me! Cavern Orcs approach from the hills!" Every living Peacekeeper heard him through the din of combat, even Wolph, whom after a half-hour still dominated the siege tower from within. He dashed out and sent another man to fend them off and descended the stairs three at a time until he reached his leader and Isaac. They looked back quickly at the walls and saw a trebuchet inadvertently annihilate the tower that Wolph had conquered.
"Where is our Hossen ally?" Vashham inquired. Isaac pointed the rubble that marked what was formerly the gatehouse. "I see him not."
"He held the gatehouse with incredible skill and dedication, but those damned catapults buried him in the stone of our own wall." Vashham turned his entire body to face the gatehouse and bowed in reverence to their friend, despite the Orc chieftain that was approaching fast behind him. Vash turned at the last second and held his arm out, the creature's momentum impaling its face on the blade. Vashham drew it out and faced the road. There were four stone roads that connected the courtyard to the other various paths of the city, one on the west, one on the east, and two coming up from the south. Wolph blocked the eastern road, Isaac took the western, and Vashham dealt with the other two.
"Come to me," he coaxed quietly. As if they had heard him, a wave of Orcs poured through each street, and not a single one made it past Vashham. To startle one group, he outstretched his arm and from his hand shot fire, engulfing the other faction of oncoming Orcs before they could cry out. His eyes shot down the other alleyway, the cavernous beings petrified of being charred. Vashham let out a sickly laugh and charged headlong into them, his blades felling two or three Orcs in a single stroke. He was quickly overrun as the other street produced more enemies and those from Vash's street who could simply ran past him. The men on the wall who managed to steal a glimpse of the scene saw a wake in the Orc horde, a wake of dead bodies and those who feared to face the wrath of Vashham Kalent.
Wolph had the street with the least activity, and no Orcs passed him. He wielded his daggers with astonishing speed and moved with amazing acrobatic skill. As an Orc rounded the bend, Wolph leapt five feet into the air, spun around, and broke its neck with a kick to the face that sent it sprawling into a decorative stone pillar, where its face promptly exploded with green blood. He landed crouch and threw an oncoming Orc over his shoulders and stabbed it as it lay on the ground. A hand clasped his shoulder and Wolph felt dull teeth clamp onto the side of his neck. They were not designed to pierce skin, but to crush, and Wolph felt it right away. He threw his foot back and it landed square on the creature's groin, a shot that would cause any being to open its mouth to suck in air. Not only did it suck in air, but it managed to get a dagger blade down its throat. Wolph let the blade rip through the side of the neck as he rolled and thrust upward, piercing a hole in the lungs of an unaware Orc. The vile being fell forward on him, but Wolph had anticipated it and rolled backwards, monkey-flipping it away and rising to his feet.
As the front line rounded the bend, Isaac dashed forward and tucked his staff into his belly before jumping slightly and flipping. His staff, being parallel to the ground and just the right height, rapped the approaching opposition in their faces and forced them onto their backs. Rockwood, amazingly enough, landed on his feet in their midst, his long staff able to not only attack the foe he faced but to surprise attack a few Orcs trying to run by with their lives. His cloak again swirled in his midst, and none of the Orcs could follow him fast enough to get a strike in. One Orc veteran managed to slash at him, but Isaac ducked the move and his staff shot up, twirled, and plunged the burned point into the Orcs belly. Despite its century of fighting experience, even the Orc captain could not survive an encounter with a mighty Peacekeeper.
The Cavern Orc horn sounded again forty-five minutes after it had announced the Orc arrives to announce the Orc departure. Less than fifty Cavern Orcs actually made it to the wall, and only ten remained alive against the frantic Human defenders. The remaining Orcs fell back and returned to the solitude of their mountain halls to lick their wounds and once again exclude themselves from the rest of the world.
A voice from atop the wall roared, "They're stopping the assault and loading the mangonel! Off the wall! The Peacekeepers scrambled over dead bodies, foes and comrades alike, to save their own hides from the destruction of the mangonel. Vash turned to Wolph and muttered, "194 today, 270,586 in my life." Wolph was amazed at not only Vash's kill count for the day and his entire life, but that he kept track of all of them.
About two-thirds of the remaining forces met beside Vashham and the other leaders in the back of the courtyard. The other third was stuck on the wall as a giant boulder shot through the base, collapsing about ten feet the stone wall. The Hossens came not pouring, but rather stood there, not charging, but clashing their weapons and stomping their feet. They were working themselves into a frenzy before they made their blitz into the remaining Human resistance. Vashham turned and gave the order for the first time in his life.
"RETREAT! Fall back through the mountains and recover! Do not die here!" The Peacekeepers, though shocked at their leader's uncharacteristic pronouncement, were not going to complain about escaping alive. Isaac turned and began to lead them out, telling them where to meet after they escaped the cruel mountain passes. Wolph, however, didn't turn away. Vashham grabbed him by the collar of his tunic and growled, "Go with them. See to it that they get out. I know what you're going to say and don't bother. I'm staying, you're not. That's an order." Wolph nodded and turned away, only to be called upon one last time.
"Wolph." He stopped and cocked his head to show he was listening, not wanting to turn and reveal his sobbing.
"Remember me. Remember what I have done for you. Most of all: earn what I give you on this day." Wolph nodded and ran with all his strength, his tears washing the blood of the stone streets.
He was alone. Alone and aware of what he had to do. Vashham stood in the center of the courtyard, his tears burned away by the fire in his eyes. He dropped his head, searching for the strength and willpower to remain. He brought his head up slowly to glare at his foes. One Hossen stepped forward, desiring to be remembered as the one how led the charge against Vashham Kalent. He stopped and went pale as he stood stone still, his eyes transfixed upon the unbelievable man before him.
Vashham held his swords in an x above his head and looked up toward the sky. A pillar of flames shot from the sky like lightning and halted as it met his blades. The writhing support dancing on the flames of such a mighty man was the epitome of strength and power. Whatever frenzied state the Hossens had entered had left them as they laid eyes on this paranormal sight. More pillars of fire shot down and destroyed all the siege engines, the ballistae, the mangonel, the trebuchets, even the towers and ladders. This was to be a fair fight, or at least as fair as it could be. The Hossens stood no chance.
The burning formations stopped faster then they came, and the only fire left on the field of battle was the flames that danced around the blades of Vashham's swords. He brought his swords down in the same x in front of his body and bowed. He stayed doubled over, but his head shot up and grinned.
Vashham ran through the hole in the wall and cut through enemy ranks with astonishing ease. His blades were able to be followed only because the fire on them left a trail of light. Many Hossens were mesmerized by the dancing fire to the point that they didn't move as they were cut down. Eventually they realized the direness of the situation and forced themselves to fight back. Whatever enchantment was placed upon those flames, it did not allow the Hossens to rise again. Many Hossens on that day only got one chance at life instead of their natural two.
Even the retreating Peacekeepers, who were a mile away already, could hear their patriarch's voice. Vashham began reciting one of his family's ancient battle verses that he seemed to know by heart, although he had never heard it before.
"Arise with me, the Wrath of Kings!
So as I may fight back
'gainst this nightmarish dream
Glory and fame, I fight for them none
But for the wrath of a man
The fall of his foe
And the rising of a red sun!"
After two hours of fighting, Vashham had the energy of a god, never tiring and never using his blades defensively. He thrust his katana through the stomach of a Hossen and pushed it through to the hilt before a bolt of inferno shot from the blade through the mass. He spun around, his arm flailing behind him and tossing the burning corpse away. His knee shot up into a Hossen stomach, the soldier doubling over only to have a flaming scimitar run through its chest. Vashham spun behind the nearest Hossen and wrapped his arm around its neck and yanked. Upon feeling the body promptly go limp, he spun away again and slashed. Vashham never stopped moving between strikes, his body gracefully carrying him where he needed to go and his blades dealing death like never before. Vashham fought with more ferocity that any other being in history, Human, Hossen, or Orc.
After another two hours of massacre, Vash was located once again in front of the hole in the wall. He sidestepped a charging Hossen, cut the tendons behind its knee, reversed his grip on his katana, and thrust it through the body before it hit the ground. It hang there for a second, suspended in time, before the innards of the carcass slid down the blade and thumped to the ground. Vash slashed his left arm to his right and his right arm to his left, crossing over his body and sending two waves of combustion forward to force the frontline Hossens' bodies off their feet and their life out of their bodies.
The crowd stepped back to reveal a score of archers with shafts drawn and aimed at Kalent. He stood there, his swords at his sides and his chest heaving. So it is to be that I shall go as my father before me.
Vashham waited.
The next day
"Isaac." Rockwood ran and saluted Wolph before receiving instructions.
"Gather the men and prepare them to march." Isaac's eyes widened at the hopes of going home.
"Should they ask, where shall I tell them we march to?"
"Most likely, to our deaths. We shall launch a full, balls-out assault on the heart of the Hossen empire."
"Sir, the men are still tired and wounded! At no time will they be less prepared!"
"And at no time will they be more motivated. Their leader has been slain so that they may live. The men want vengeance for Vashham's sacrifice, I heard them say it myself as I wandered camp last night." Wolph leaned closer and lowered his voice before he continued. "After we reached safety, I went back. I saw him to his end. He fought like one possessed and so hard that the Devil himself ran away and hid. For hours he cut them down like scythe through crop. Then the stepped back and revealed twenty archers. He stood there for five minutes, swords bravely at his sides, exposing all his front. Vashham Kalent took twenty arrows in his chest. His body was mangled and driven back five feet from the simultaneous force of those arrows driving into him. And they left him in the dirt. After they left, I went and buried him. The fire was still in his eyes, and his face still showed no fear. I buried him with his helm atop his head and his mighty swords, his symbols of honor, across his proud chest. He told me that in his lifetime he had taken two hundred and seventy thousand, five hundred and eighty-six live while he walked this earth, and after I buried him I counted all the bodies that he had cut down and all the bones of those he had burnt. He killed 240,594 Hossens outside those walls to buy us time. In his lifetime, that man and his mighty weapons slew over a half-million people of any race.
The last thing he told me was to earn what he gave me. I'll do more than that. By God I'll pay it back. Tell the men to take with them all the weapons and armor they can without being slowed down. We leave in an hour to make them pay for their actions."
Isaac and Wolph stood and took in their surroundings. The gate to the main Hossen city of Shuun Kracht was ajar and there was no guards upon the wall.
"They are not back yet. Have the men meet in the courtyard and close the gate." As Rockwood turned and gave the order, Wolph's leg was brushed by a sword scabbard. He looked and saw it was a double-edged sword on Isaac's belt. It felt cold as he tapped it and said, "This is new." Isaac looked down to see what he meant and then shook his head.
"Mayhap to you, dear friend. Before I joined the Guard, I wielded this same blade alongside my staff. I stopped using it during training to show the older, cocky trainees that I am better and deadlier with wood than they are with any blade. But to honor Vashham by doing as much damage as I can, I return to my strength and will not cease until I am with him again." A scout upon the wall called out, "They are here! The Hossens approach!"
Despite the decimation done by Vashham, the army still seemed massive, perhaps even more so than it did the day before. Wolph assumed that was because they had about two thousand men against one hundred thousand two-lifed Hossens. He turned and spoke to the men.
"There may very well be the last words I speak to you, so listen. Vashham died at their hands. And they dishonorably killed him. They had him shot by archers because they knew their swordsman could not win. They killed a great man; your leader, and my friend. More than my friend. He was my brother. They killed him. Now let us kill them in his honor!" The men's cheers and whoops were heard by every ear within Hossen boundaries. "At my signal, you charge with all your might and send them to the depths of Hell. Do not surrender, but fight until your death." The gate was opened and Wolph stood with his back to the foe. He held his bow up in the air and bellowed
"FOR VASHHAM!"
Four Hossens flew back as Wolph shot four final arrows at a time. He threw his bow aside and drew his daggers, tackling the first Hossen he met. Isaac showed up shortly after, aiding him in his last effort to honor a dead brother. They somehow knew without speaking what moves to use in order to coordinate with each other. Both men thrust their blades into the same Hossen and left them there to strike another. At the same time, the pulled them out and struck his face at the same time, sending the body into the air and the head into the distance. Isaac thrust his staff into a nearby throat and looked back at Wolph, but he was gone.
Vashham Kalent fought where Wolph had been. His swords were again alight from an unearthly blaze, and even Wolph's reflective red eyes were transformed, transformed into the colors of dancing fire. He saw in red, but the Peacekeepers were alight with flames, the flames of Vashham's spirit. Only Wolph could see it, but it was in all of them. He held the swords of the reincarnation, and he bore the helm and leather armor upon his body.
Tajhez, evil leader of the Hossens, stood over a dead Peacekeeper conscript, blood on his hands and massive mace. He swung his weapon backhanded, crushing the skill of an unaware enemy. Tajhez grasped the body and flung it with one hand. As he watched it sail through the air, he saw a sight that he thought he would never see again: a massive spurt of fire propelling five Hossens into the horizon. Pushing his way through the mass, slaying friend and foe alike, Tajhez prayed that he was wrong. He wasn't.
Vashham stood there, watching him as he approached.
"No! I slew you; I watched you die!"
"You killed my body, but my heart and soul shan't be at peace until my dishonorable death is justified. Now come and face me as the warrior you use as a guise."
Tajhez half-heartedly swung his mace, and Vash simple stepped back with no effort at all. The Hossen tyrant began lashing out with all his strength and speed, which was incredibly with a mace as large as his. Vashham's blades easily deflected the shots, but he never struck back.
After twenty minutes of the charade, Vashham thrust his swords into the ground and stretched his arms above his head as if awakening from a nap. Tajhez gripped his mace with both hands and swung as hard as he could, and Vashham made no attempt to get away.
The mace stopped dead when it hit Vash's chest. A sickening thud was heard, but Vash did not falter in the least. Tajhez swung several more times, each blow bouncing harmlessly of Vashham's chest. The Hossen dropped him weapon and ran as fast as he could. He was stopped in midstride, unable to move by his own free will. He straightened out and began to levitate, a stream of fire connecting his body to Vashham's palm. In suspended animation above the chaos, he screamed, "Why can't I kill you?!!!" Vashham laughed.
"Where you not there yesterday? I was killed, but you weren't. I hadn't fulfilled my purpose, so here I stand. Everything has a purpose, be it big or small. Mine was to free my people from you by giving them the ultimate gift: sacrifice. I paid the price, and now I let them reap the benefits. Get used to those flames around you. Where you're going, it's the only scenery you'll have." A sphere of fire grew around Tajhez, sealing him from view. The ball shrank and disappeared, taking the Hossen with them.
Wolph stared at his hands, for he was indeed himself again, but he still held the blades of Kalent and he felt the scabbards across his back. Around him stood what remained of his men, about one hundred in all. Isaac was with him, and they were a circle of hope to Humankind, Hossens all around them. As Wolph contemplated why he still held the weapons, he heard Vashham say, remember me. Remember what I have done for you. And most of all: remember what I give you this day. Wolph nodded and said out loud, "I shan't forget." As the Hossens closed in from all sides, the men felt a burst of courage from Wolph's words. He stepped forward, pointed the katana toward the advancing enemy, and cried out:
"Forward, my brave boys! Fulfill your purpose, even if it is only to die! Forward!
FOR VASHHAM!"