Present Day
Trovver's Stead
12 P.M.
"And what is this place again?" asked Commander Dalton Land of the 13th Assault.
His second-in-command, Major Karl Dupul, looked through his binoculars for a third time and scanned the once verdant field, focusing on the tall, round mounds of dirt on the side of the field, where thousands of Commonwealth troopers were setting up defenses. Reciprocators were being set up in foxholes while hundreds of troopers piled more dirt onto the mounds and moved sections of wooden fence in front of where the firing lines would be.
The spot was chosen as tacticians saw it as the most defendable spot in the farmland as well as a spot where the Dominion army would have to cross through. Knowing the Dominion's tactics, the tactical officers recommended digging in as best as they could and ensuring that the troopers were prepared for a prolonged static defense. The general today was Josef Andro, a frail looking man in his late 40s who made his name in campaigns against raiders on the Commonwealth's northwestern border. The brutal fighting in the foothills of the Mirrored Peaks had claimed many lives- but much more would have been lost had it not been for the judicious leadership of Andro. But he had never fought elves and it would be very different than hunting disorganized bandit clans in the mountains.
"This is Trovver's Stead. Was one of the largest farms in Lillandril. But, it had fallen on hard times as you can see," he said as he motioned at the dead and rotting plants under the feet of their horses.
"The flat land and existing structures, such as the large mounds of dirt along the road, made it the perfect place to make our defense," Dupul said.
Land nodded. "I won't argue with that, major."
The day was hot and the sun beat down on his neck. He was sweltering under his heavy coat, which was dyed dark like the coats his troopers wore. Land was sure they would not be faring any better than he was- even worse more likely.
He urged his horse forward and rode to the front of his assembled forces, over 1,000 in total. Each man and woman stopped what they were doing and gave him their full attention.
"Today will be the first major test of our mettle, soldiers," he began. "The Dominion is sending a massive army to dislodge us from this hard-won position. But are we going to let them do that?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question, but all his troopers knew what to say.
"No, sir!" they all said in near unison.
He smiled. "Now today is going to be a very hot day. I want everyone to drink plenty of water and keep their canteens topped up. We'll try to rotate squads out of the firing line every half hour; but I won't admonish any man who needs a break from the fighting. Passing out due to dehydration is just as dangerous as getting an arrow or sword through the heart. And either way, you'll be out of the fight and won't be able to support your fellow soldiers."
The warriors assembled before him rocked on their feet and seemed eager to fight despite the oppressive heat. Land nodded proudly at his troopers.
"Let's send these pointy eared bastards home in caskets, eh?"
His soldiers whooped and cheered, waving rifles and blades in the air. Land began to ride back to the rear when scouts rode up to him.
20 minutes later, the Dominion army was upon them. Tens of thousands strong, the ranks of golden armored elves stood in neat, precise rows and columns. The blazing afternoon sun reflected off their dull colored armor.
The Rynn troopers fell into prone positions all across their fortifications. Mortar teams, delayed during the ride out of Lillandrill by damaged roads, arrived as the elves did and wasted no time setting up their weapons.
The elves locked eyes with the stalwart Rynn troopers. Neither side moved a muscle for a long time. Then, in the very rear of the elven lines, great horns began to sound. They were war horns, blown to direct troop movements on the battlefield and to unnerve enemy forces. The booming tone reverberated across the flat land and the scathing tone reached all the way to the rear of the Commonwealth's forces.
In their foxholes and on their firing lines, the entrenched defenders nervously exchanged glances and began to murmur amongst themselves. The officers took it upon themselves to make sure the troops remained disciplined- some shouted them down harshly, while others joked or reassured their troopers.
Land rode up and down his lines, rallying the troops. "I've heard that song before. I think it's an elven funerary march!"
His troops laughed and hollered. Land smiled to himself.
Even in the most brutal battles, Land had a knack for keeping morale. Today would be no different.
As the horns died down, two blocks of infantry advanced out from the main force. Both blocks were twelve by twelve, marching straight towards the Commonwealth guns without hesitation. Overconfident? Stupid? Maybe both.
The troopers on the firing lines leaned into their guns and sighted up their targets. At the 13th Assault's lines, Land rode up and down, calling "hold your fire until I order!" The other officers were doing the same.
One block of infantry came within 70 meters of the Commonwealth's lines, right in front of the 13th Assault.
That was when Land gave the order to open fire.
Thousands of guns opened fire on the advancing infantry. A good portion of the shots went wide, due to the shooters miscalculating the elevation difference. But, more than enough bullets tore through the elven ranks for a devastating effect.
The front rows of each block essentially disintegrated. The dead and wounded fell in heaps as their comrades sidestepped around them. But yet, the elves surged forward, although each warrior was immensely disheartened by the death of their fellow Altmer.
The Rynn troopers reloaded in a few seconds. Another order to fire was given and with it, several dozen more elves fell dead or in agony.
Two volleys was all it took. The remaining elves, which numbered less than a hundred, broke their ranks and ran. But the trooper gave them no reprieve. Two more brutal volleys ensured that the remaining elves, their backs to the shooters, were down for the count.
General Ulari angrily pushed his spyglass close.
"Damn them all. Are they soldiers or children?" he growled as he watched the ranks of warriors collapse in front of the Rynn troopers.
His aides did not answer. They were in awe of the weapons being wielded by the human infantry. The reports were true- strange spears that spat fire and lead. Invisible projectiles were cutting down the Dominion's finest soldiers with ease.
When no one answered him, Ulari gathered his aides and told them to order a full advance by all active regiments. More than a few looked concerned with this order.
"With all due respect my lord, do you think that is the most judicious move right now?" one of them asked meekly. Ulari glared at him.
"Lord Carene has entrusted me with defeating this little incursion. He would not give a fool the task of defending the entire Dominion from the invaders. Do not question my decisions."
He turned to the rest of his aides. "Go. Give the order to advance."
They rode out to deliver the order to the rest of the army.
Back on the Rynn lines, the troopers remained still as the gunsmoke and dust cleared. Hundreds of dead and dying elves lay before them. Not a scratch on any trooper.
Land had returned to the rear and surveyed the remaining elements of the elven army. The horns blew a tremendously high note as he did so and it seemed that a tidal wave of dull gold shifted forward towards their lines.
The elven warriors picked up speed and were soon trotting across the fields of dead crops. The Rynn troopers steeled themselves against the onrush, the incessant pounding of the enemy's boots against the hard packed earth reverberating in their ears.
Land entrusted that his officers had enough discretion to decide when to fire. One miscue could mean the complete collapse of Land's entire regiment.
In the rear of the Rynn lines, mortar teams dropped their fin stabilized metal bombs down the smoothbore tubes of their weapons. With a short, sharp thump, the projectile shot out of the mortar and arched over the trooper's positions. The first shell slammed about 5 meters in front of an elven battalion. The warriors screamed and many stopped short as the explosion kicked up brown dirt and sand. A few stumbled and fell onto their backs.
The next few shells collided with the front rows of several elven battalions, disintegrating several warriors while shrapnel tore mortal wounds into dozens more. But they continued their advance, although more than a few warriors felt fear overcome them.
Half of a battalion was wiped out in the blink of an eye when a pair of shells simultaneously impacted in the very center and right flank. The elves began to waver, but their commander raised his sword high and rallied them. The elves broke into a sprint, with several more battalions following their lead.
Mixed in with their melee armed brethren, teams of swift elven archers, numbering anywhere between twenty to sixty in a group, ran forward, low to the ground, in an attempt to find a position to fire upon the Commonwealth troopers.
The first wave of elven infantry, numbering over 3,000 with archer and mage support, threw themselves at the Rynn at full sprint. At about 42 meters away, the Rynn opened fire in one massed, almost in unison, volley.
Hundreds of elves fell dead, but hundreds more ran forward to take their place. There was another volley. This one was less effective, but still killed or maimed a good number of warriors.
The battalion at the very front had a mage attached to them. She spread out her arms and created a large shield dome of blue, pulsing energy that covered most of her unit. And it worked- the next volley killed no one who was within the shield. Those units with mages followed suit.
Those without were cut down by the subsequent volleys.
At 19 meters, the elves had their numbers severely reduced, but still had enough warriors and swords for a charge. The surviving archers began to post up and rained masses of arrows down on the defenders. At the 75th Infantry's position, dozens were killed by the golden elven arrows that seemed to ceaselessly rain from the sky.
The archers began to advance, firing at any exposed head or limb they could see. They were doing well, until a Reciprocator opened up on them.
Elven archers wore little armor and so, the Reciprocator was able to cut through their bodies like a knife through hot butter. In under 30 seconds, all that remained of the archers were broken bodies and a few shattered bows.
Now, the elven attack began to falter as the Reciprocators found their targets in their effective range. With the rifles and Reciprocators firing in gruesome unison, hundreds were cut down in seconds. But yet, they advanced. Maybe it was their pride.
But their pride did not protect them from the bullets that killed over 2,300 in the opening minutes.
A few battalions made it to the Rynn lines. They leaped up the earthen mounds, swords aloft. It just so happened that these were the battalions who put up shields to protect their warriors.
The elven unit that first had that idea collided with the 4th Assault, who were mostly not ready for a melee fight. The elves' blades were the first to draw blood against the Rynn in that battle, but their attack did not last long.
The mage who originally put up her shield was literally cut in half by a Reciprocator as she attempted to launch a gout of flame into the foxhole the gun crew was protected by. The gunners then managed to turn their gun to the elves coming over into the 4th's position.
Initially, the elven warriors met some success as they charged into the 4th. Swords plunged into the necks and chests of the 4th. Many fell as their comrades backed away, drawing their combat knives or trying to fix bayonets. A few did not fall back initially, deciding to turn their rifles over and swing them at the attacking elves like clubs.
After five minutes, the 4th surged back, bayoneted rifles held aloft or outward. They speared many of the surviving elves and some managed to get off shots that sometimes came dangerously close to hitting their allies in the chaos.
The elves who remained faltered in their attack and ran over the top where they were cut down by rifle and Reciprocator before they could join the tattered remains of the retreating first wave.
When the dust settled, 245 Rynn were dead with 76 wounded. At their feet, laying in the hot field, and stuck to the end of their bayonets were 2,789 dead elves. Any wounded elf within range was promptly put out of their misery.
At the firing lines, the troopers all took a few moments to catch their breath, take a few sips from their canteens, and move wounded comrades to the medical tents.
Land rode up to his troops, who promptly gave him their full attention.
"Now I'm sorry I wasn't there to be on the front with you all. But that was a damn good show!"
The assembled troopers murmured in agreement. They had not borne the brunt of the attack and had taken light casualties.
"Now, I want squads to switch out. We can almost predict that those bastards will hit us with more bodies soon enough."
Land began to ride to the rear, but decided against it. He stopped a trooper moving to the rear.
"Trooper Falk!" he said to the man. Land had memorized every trooper's name by now.
The young soldier stopped and saluted, almost dropping his rifle in the process.
"Yes, sir!"
"I'll need to borrow your rifle and cartridges, son."
The trooper looked confused. "Sir?"
"You heard me. That's an order."
Falk handed off his rifle and cartridge pouch to Land.
The officer smirked. "Thank you. Now, bring my horse back to the rear when you head back," Land ordered as he dismounted and handed the reins to Falk.
The trooper saluted enthusiastically. "Sir!"
Turning, Land headed to the firing lines, where fresh troopers were digging in. Some looked at him oddly as he propped his rifle into the dirt. He looked at the soldiers giving him odd looks.
"What's wrong, troopers? I'm where I belong," he said with a smile.
But now was not the time for joking. A few thousands more warriors were advancing on the Rynn lines. This time, the armored warriors formed a gigantic tidal wave of gold that made the first wave look tiny in comparison.
"That's a lot of elves," one officer near Land said.
"There's gonna be a lot of bodies, soon," Land shouted in reply.
The mortars opened fire again. But elven mages put the proper defences before the shells could do any real damage. The mortar teams ceased fire after a few volleys to conserve ammunition.
In perfect unison, the elves trotted the last few hundred yards towards the Rynn. At less than 10 meters, the elves dropped their protective wards, causing the troopers to open fire at point blank range.
The opening volleys had less of an impact than they usually did due to the elves moving in fast and hard. Elven archers made it to their effective ranges and promptly began to rain arrows down on the troopers. Land himself buried his face into the hard packed earth to avoid being struck. Several of his men were not so lucky.
In moments, a large force of elves were upon the Rynn. They cut down several dozen who were in the very front of the firing lines, even as the troopers opened fire at ranges as little as 5 to 3 meters away.
Warriors leapt over the Rynn dead and wounded, as the remaining troopers squeezed off their last volleys and fixed bayonets. The 89th and 68th were hit hardest, losing vast amounts of men to the barrage of arrows. Most of the survivors could not put up a good melee defense as the elves came pouring over their lines. The reserve troops, many of whom were taking their breaks in the rear, came running forward, some wearing only their undershirts and pants. A savage melee confrontation ensued, with the bloody combat grinding to a stalemate for the duration of the attack.
Back at the 13th's lines, the arrow bombardment ended and not a moment later, elves were beginning to pour over their lines. Some troopers were struck before they could even get up from the prone position they had adopted to defend themselves.
Land himself got up into a crouch and shouldered his borrowed rifle. He blew the head off an elf charging him and then speared one coming up his left side. Tossing the corpse off the end of his bayonet, Land saved a trooper's life by clubbing down the elven warrior standing over the downed man. He then drove his bayonet into the base of the elf's neck.
A moment later, Land barely dodged a battleaxe set to decapitate him. Two of his troopers ran up and impaled the axe wielding elf on their bayonets. Land delivered a coup de grâce to the elf by plunging his bayonet into an eye socket. The elf screamed and cursed him, even as he died.
He pushed a round into his rifle, feeling that he may need it at one point. He then waved the rifle over his head.
"Let's go! Plug that gap!" he shouted. Some troops ran to answer his call, with more running forward from the reserve lines. The rest were attempting to form some semblance of a firing line.
"To Oblivion with organization! Draw your blades and kill them!" Land shouted.
Land slung his rifle onto his back and reached into the leather holster he had on the back of his right hip. He withdrew his Garrison and Sons Model 4/206 revolver. The heavy, .44 Caliber single action revolver used to be gold standard within the officer's circle. High quality iron and steel construction coupled with high stopping power made it a favorite. It had fallen out of favor for the semiautomatics and double action revolvers in recent years, but Land still loved his.
He pulled the hammer back as he drew his sword. A pair of elves advanced on him, their armor shining in the sun's rays.
Land shouted and rushed at them, managing to blow off part of an elf's face with his revolver. The elf's partner looked at him in distress for a split second, just in time for Land to drive his sword between his ribs. Well, that was the intent anyway
Land's blade punctured only partway into the elf's armor and became stuck. The warrior punched Land in the face and withdrew the blade stuck in his armor. Land was on his back, his sword was out of reach and his rifle was still on his back. The elf drew a dagger and tried to plunge it into his chest. Catching the elf's wrist, Land was able to prevent the blade from slicing into his chest.
They were locked in a struggle for a few moments, until Land was able to free his left hand and pressed his revolver against his attacker's breastplate. With one pull of the trigger, blood spewed up from the exit wound in his back. Land rolled the corpse over and stood up.
His troopers were gaining the upper hand now. Reserve forces had now joined the fray and were laying into the elves with everything they had. A small group of troopers surrounded him.
"Are you alright, sir?" one of them asked him.
Land dusted off his coat. "Never better! Now, let's drive these bastards back!"
The might of the 13th collided with the remains of the elven attack. Any resistance that remained faltered quickly.
But then, the elves were suddenly bolstered by the arrival of the rest of the elven army, which had advanced in the chaos of the elven assault. Driving back the first wave of foes, the Rynn stood at the top of their fortifications and opened fire into the mass of infantry advancing on them.
They fell one after the other, but the remaining warriors scrambled up towards the Rynn.
Land was proud of his troopers. They kept up their fire without hesitation even as the enemy warriors were almost on top of them, all while arrows continued to zip over their heads. It was very lucky that Rynn bullets could pass through elven armor without much difficulty.
Standing at the head of his men, Land opened fire with his revolver into the golden tide, killing many and saving the lives of several troopers. His sword also reached out to stab or slash anything that got too close.
This went on for several minutes. The elves could not breach the Rynn positioned due to the unending wall of fire they were laying on.
At one point, Land broke open the top of his revolver, the automatic extractor sending empty and still smoking cartridges up into the air. He reached into a pouch and found that he had just one speedloader left.
Land looked around and saw that some troopers were digging into their ammo pouches and had to rummage longer and longer to find a bullet.
"Ammo check!" he shouted. The officers around him all repeated the order. Each troopers who heard the order took a moment to check how many bullets were left in their inventory.
They replied and it did not sound good.
"Three rounds, sir!"
"Five!"
"Aye sir, two left!"
"One round left sir- nevermind!"
Land grabbed a trooper near him by the shoulder.
"Trooper Kent- I need you to go back to the reserve and tell a quartermaster we need ammunition."
The trooper saluted and ran back, pushing through the troopers who were on the defense.
Some men were already fixing bayonets. The elves attempted a massed push but were stopped by a wall of gunfire followed by bayonets.
In the midst of the battle, trooper Kent found Land again.
"Sir, command is giving everyone the order to pull back right now,"
Land looked at the man with surprise. "What? We're doing just fine out here!"
"They want the elves to be drawn in and then get hit by the mortars once we're out of the way. We'll then follow that up with a mass volley with whatever ammo we have remaining," Kent replied.
Land smiled. "That's better."
He ran back, telling his officers to relay the order. Soon, radiographers and officers across the Rynn lines distributed the command and the army fell back as one. The elves took the bait.
The mortars fired without hesitation, even when troopers were still dangerously close to the kill zones.
"Hit the deck!" Land shouted as he heard the mortars shells whistled overhead.
He and many around him barely touched the ground as the shells blew apart the elves. Land could feel the shockwave radiate through his body and his ears rung. He peered up to see the elves who has advanced were now being vaporized by the dozen. Mangled elven steel mixed with body parts and unrecognizable pieces of the warriors rained down around him.
The bombardment ended a minute later. The troopers were up in a second and ran to their former positions. Land led his troopers up and over and each man shouldered their rifle.
Only a fraction of the elves survived the attack. Most were wounded or disoriented and could not put up a fight.
The remaining troopers formed a line and fired down on them. Most used up their remaining ammo, but it was enough. The survivors began to flee, but were shown no mercy.
"My lord, I implore you- recall our forces and retreat," an advisor said to General Ulari.
The general peered down his spyglass at his warriors falling to the Rynn. And to them turning and running for their lives.
"We cannot afford to continue this, general," another advisor said.
He put away his spyglass and stared at the scene for a long time.
"Sound the retreat. We'll fight another day."
Wordlessly, his advisors rode off to carry out the order.
Ulari sighed deeply. This was the first time he had to retreat from a battle. Thousands of his warriors were dead or dying. The progress of the Commonwealth had not been stopped. His lord would have his head for the embarrassment doled out today.
He spurred his horse and rode off to direct the retreat.
"They're running, sir!" a trooper announced
Land wiped dust and smoke out of his eyes and saw that the elven army was turning away.
He laughed. "We did it, soldiers! The bastards are going home!"
Across the Rynn lines, the surviving troopers cheered. Many pumped their weapons in the air. Some hugged. A few kissed.
"The day is won. The day is ours," Land said to himself.
Many Rynn troopers were dead. Many more wounded. He himself had been battered thoroughly, but was still on his feet.
The time to count the wounded and dead would come. But for now, it was time to relish in the victory.
"I surrender! I surrender!"
The wounded elf waved his arms at Land and his bodyguards. His plea for mercy was cut short by a blade to the throat.
The Rynn were now picking over the battlefield, finding bodies of their comrades and retrieving their wounded. Any surviving elf was shown no mercy. The Altmer would do the same if they were the victors.
It was estimated that around 13,000 elves had lost their lives. The Rynn lost around 2,000. 2,000 good men and women who died for the Commonwealth. They would be shipped back to Rynn in pine boxes and would be undoubtedly be hailed as the greatest of heroes.
Land and his men approached a pair of dead elves near where one of the firing lines had been. One of the corpses stirred. The group stopped. Land drew his revolver.
"There's someone under there, sir," one of the troopers said.
"Yeah…" he muttered.
Land kicked the corpse over and revealed a bloody, beaten, but alive, trooper.
He wore a crimson jacket, which was now dark red in places with blood. His mask and helmet were both missing.
Land smiled. "Hello trooper. The battle is won."
The man had two arrows sticking out of his chest- but they were caught by the mail woven into his coat. Even so, he definitely had a broken rib or two.
"What unit are you from, son?"
"Red Daemons, sir."
Land grabbed the arm of a medic walking past. "We need a stretcher for this man here," he ordered.
"I'm Commander Dalton Land of the 13th Assault. What's your name?" Land asked the trooper.
"Trooper Frederick Crane. I'm from Darinwick," he said, referring to a large town near the Commonwealth's northern border.
"Why are you telling me that, soldier?"
"Because if I die, you'll know where to send my body, sir."
Land grasped the man's hand. "You're not dying today, trooper Crane."
The medics arrived and lifted the man into a stretcher and hauled him away. Land watched him disappear into a medical tent.
In front of him, a field of broken armor glimmered in the sun. Mangled corpses of once proud elven warriors began to fester in the unrelenting sun. Mortar shells had scarred the land and craters pockmarked the already cracked earth.
Land took a deep breath. He smelt the death, the stench of rot beginning to fill the air. He could feel the sharp smell of gunpowder in his nostrils, along with something burning.
It smelt like victory.
