The first part of this Chapter is giving a brief run down of events after the Second Marlow Tank War in Chapter 4: Krieg and later three weeks after.
If your a History buff or a gun nut like me, I would love to chat with you
Sorry for the long wait, the holidays as well as Black friday, had to work it -_- , came in the way of it all :(
With Love ~Dresner
The Oseanian XIX Armored Corps advance into Estovakia came to a screeching halt once they reached the village of Marlow. The lead vanguard of a battalions worth of men and a handful of tanks was bleed white by the four hundred man Kampfgruppe of Estovakian soldiers defending the village of Marlow, while the remainder was wiped out completely by Fighter-Bombers of the Estovakian Air Force (E.A.F) and the main force of the XIX Corps mauled by Stuka's as well as the Focke Wulf 190's. The Kampfgruppen was soon relieved by friendly forces and launched a fierce counter attack in the hours following the assault on Marlow. Taking advantage of the confusion and air cover, The 17th and 66th Division of the Estovakian Army encircled and annihilated the Oseanian force taking 7,000 men as prisoners of war. The Second Marlow Tank war marked a turning point in Verusean Continental War as Estovakia was once again on the offensive and the first obstacle in bringing this war to an end was the Oseanian occupied city of Sonthofen.
Leading the Assault was the premiere armored division of the Estovakian elite troops, The Iron Guard 1st Panzer Division, The thirty thousand strong "Dinsmark" division lead by Erich Zorin. Zorin's Panzers were rerouted from their stations near the former capital of Belka, Dinsmark, fifty miles southeast from Marlow, and drove through the night to muster with the 17th and 66th divisions to form the II Panzer Corps and begin the push toward Sonthofen.
The Second Battle of Marlow was three weeks ago and yet Karl could remember it all in vivid detail..
He could smell the burning fuel and gun power in the air as well as the blood from the dying and dead men and women who dotted the fields. The fields outside of the village of Marlow were nothing but bare dirt and slush from the snow. What remained of the snow was stained crimson with the blood of the fallen Oseanians and black from oil of their war machines. Scattered across the field for at least two miles were the burning hulks of Oseanian armor. Karl counted fourteen destroyed tanks, or at least that is how much he thought by the clouds of black smoke pouring out of the crew hatches. 'Their has to be more of them.' He thought to himself as he looked around the fields for more. The sound of burning fires, the thunder of aircraft engines in the sky, and cries of wounded men filled his ears.
Karl had to come to terms with reality, He was at war...
Ben later rejoined Karl and told him of a man in a town just across the border between the Waring nations of Estovakia and Osean, Arkbird, and that a man by the name of Harlan Ellison could lead them to the gate back to the mortal world, But Karl was skeptical at first but his options were limited. Greatly limited...
First on foot, holding on for dear life on the back of a panzer, and then back on foot. Karl and Ben made their way through the almost endless farmland and into the thick woods of Northeastern Estovakia's red forest heading toward the Esto-Oseanian Border.
The howling winters wind wived through the thick red pines and oaks of the snow covered forest as Karl rapped the flaps of his cap around his ears to protect from the cold. "I'm glad this was that chest in the Summerland." He said to himself as fastened the finally button under his chin. Karl's toque was rapped round his neck and pulled it over his nose to protect his face from harsh wind as well as conceal his identity, sitting in gully surely didn't help stop the wind. Even the warmth of his black and blood stained overcoat or the flannel lined green Osean tunic he took from a raid on a supple cart didn't help him.
For seven day's Karl and Ben have ridden out a massive snow storm that swallowed up the whole of Northeast Estovakia and the border towns of Osean. The depth of the snow, as well as the low visibility, have paralyzed almost all forms of movement expect foot soliders and house drawn transport. From what Karl could gather the Red forest was a dead zone, a place where no one trekked, which was strange to Karl. The number and variety of wild game he observed over the week was a hunter paradise for an advent hunter such as himself. Wild boar, European red deer, White tail deer, Elk, Mule dear, Grizzly bear, Timber wolves, and more that roamed the forests around him. The terrain was a mix between small rocky hills and flat green field as well as the high mountains of the Waldreich mountain range cutting the across skyline in the lulls of the storm. For seven days in the hostile wilderness of northwest Estovakia, Karl became one with the land and its wild inhabitants. He knew the trails, the patterns, the territory, and the dangers lying just ahead. All in seven days!
The rhythmic sound of human foot steps on snow caught Karl's attention and he grabbed the blood stained and dirty sturmgewehr from the snow. His rifle was rapped in strips of white around the front and stock to blend into the snow as well as the light removable scope mounted on the gun. Karl picked it up from Ben after the second battle of marlow as a token of gratitude and Ben's inability to hit anything with the damn thing and Karl made it his own personal weapon. From putting down whitetail to an Oseanian foot solider, Karl made great use of it. The rifle fed the two more than once and even clothed them with warm deer, elk, and wolf pelts. Karl took position near a fallen pine tree at the far end of the gully and poked the end of the rifle out of the lighter end of the tree's thick pine needles. Through his scope he could see the outline of three men walking down the near by main road with rifles in hand. Karl switched the safety off of his weapon and wait patiently with his hand gripped tightly around the grip with trigger finger frozen in place, waiting for the right moment. As the men came into view, Karl could see the dark grey of a friendly uniform covered with white winter camouflage as well as their Volkhovian made PPS submachine guns and SVT rifles. He clicked the safety back on and climbed out of the gully to greet the Estovakian soliders.
"Privyet!" He shouted to the soliders, who in turn quickly trained their guns on the armed Karl. The soliders rushed to him with guns still trained on him as the came closer. "Friendly! I'm friendly! Ich bin freundlich! Freundlich!" Karl barked at the soliders before they were interrupted by the trotting of horses. The soliders became passive as a group of large tan and black Don horses with Cossack warriors with thick beards and brandishing rifles. The Cossacks, from what Karl read in books in the mortal world, are eastern slavic people with a history of Self- Governing and known for their talent as horsemen. They dressed in Khaki-green or field grey overcoats with fur hats with the gold iron cross of the Iron guard on front. Karl counted at least seven cossacks and yet nine horses, strange considering that there was only three dismounted cossacks.
"At ease." A voice said as the cossacks moved to the side to let a Black Don with white strip going down its face. The rider wore a black overcoat with a toque covering the face of the figure and a black crusher cap with golden yellow piping with the shoulder straps of a Major general. The figures eyes were covered with goggles, yet karl could feel them on him like a hungry wolf. "I know him..." The figure said as he, or whoever it was, pulled the toque down to revile a familiar face with a man eater grin that made Karl melt a little inside. The face was almost a perfect copy of his muse Dusk, complete with the little dot on her left cheek. She removed her goggles to revile the same piercing black eyes as her, but with out the heavy eye shadow above them.
"Dusk? Is that you?" Karl whispered in shock.
"Who's Dusk?" The woman asked. "My name is Sasha if you haven't forgotten." She replied rudely.
Karl's hopes were dashed a little, but he couldn't help but give a annoyed growl. "Someone I know back in my world," He replied. "What are you doing here?"
Sasha gave an arrogant chuckle and threw him a backpack, "To give you this." Sasha replied.
Karl opened the bag to find rations, canteens, a large hunting knife, packages of ammunition, compass, and a map. Karl looked over at Sasha with a little smile, "A resupply eh? Or is this a gift?"
"A resupply," She replied as she dismounted her horse with one of the armed Cossacks. The Cossack held a case in hand and Sasha opened it promptly. Inside were various decorations and a smaller box as well. "And a presentation."
"Karl, for the destruction of three enemy panzers. I present to you the Tank destruction on three accounts." Sasha said as she pulled three destroyer badges from the box. Karl pulled his coat off to one side and let her pin all three of them on his right shoulder. She turned back to the box and pulled the small her case out. "For courage under fire and bravery, I present to you the Iron cross 1st class." Sasha took the iron cross out of the box and pined it to his chest. The Cossacks saluted and each shook Karl hands and thanked him.
Karl felt honored to be award this medal, let alone the badges for tank killing. Medals like the Iron cross were usually award to soliders for their bravery under fire and only rarely awarded to civilians, This was a stepping stone for him and Karl could feel it. "Thank you for aiding the people of Estovakia in our struggle, In our eyes you are our brother in arms and we hope that you think of us as the same." Sasha said as she shook his hand firmly.
"Now where is Ben Ravencroft?" She asked as she turned and mounted her Don. "At our camp just two kilometers from here." Karl replied as he took his rifle off of his back and held it in his hands. "Come, I'll take you there. Hopefully Ben is finished cooking our meal, Eh?" Karl gave a little chuckle as he and the Cossacks walked off the main road and through the woods.
Ben Ravencroft sat calmly rapped in his black trench coat lined with wolves and rabbits fur for warmth with a hood covering his head and ears from the cold. Even in front of a warm fire with a hot iron pot full of stew couldn't get the ice in his ghostly veins to melt. Ben was a man of many secrets and interests, some of which made his writing such a success in the mortal world. One of those interests was cooking, which he was rather good none the less. He sat on a stump in front of the boiling iron pot as it hung from atop a warm fire with a hand crafted wooden spoon in his hand to stir the stew. Two tents across from the fire made out of branches and covered in pelts from deer and bear to protect the men from the snow and cold. It was a quaint little camp made by the two journeymen in such a short amount of time.
The sound of trotting horses through the thick snow caught his attention and turned around calmly to see Karl with a team of Cossacks behind him. "Welcoming committee, eh Karl?" Ben asked him. "Nyet, Ravencroft." Sasha respond as her and her Cossacks took lead to meet with Ben. Sasha presented Ben with an Iron Cross just as she did with Karl, but less formal and rather rushed as she walked back to her house, until the sound of rumbling stomachs of her men and herself caught her attention. Ben and Karl chuckled, "Come Sasha, there is plenty of stew to go around. I'm sure of it. " Ben offered as he dipped a cup into the pot and handed it to Sasha promptly. Karl dug into the bag to retrieve a spoon, but saw Sasha turning down the cup of warm deer stew.
"No No No, I have to be go..." Sasha resisted before Karl placed a spoon in the cup for her. "Please, Take some. At least let your men eat, they fight just as hard as everyone else. It's a shame to let brave men starve." Karl politely protested as he took a spoon full of stew for himself from Sasha's cup. She looked a little surprised at Karl and opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out but a slow cold breath. Her dark eyes twinkled in the light of the evening sun as it began to drop behind the back drop of the tail, snow covered, pine and oak trees.
The wind died down, Thankfully, and the group sat around the fire with old metal cups or helmets filled with stew and looks of enjoyment and pleasure on their faces. Sasha was a little reluctant at first, but after a while she began to open up a little at a time as each member of her Cossacks as well as Karl and Ben began to tell stories of their past, telling jokes, singing songs, and even sharing vodka rations and cigarettes. Through out the night, Karl moved closer to Sasha and she noticed this, but, decided not to say anything about and only gave slight glares and a little smile as he told a few stories about his friends from life in the other world. Ravencroft didn't say much though until Karl ask him.
As one of the cossacks finished his story about his cow, strangely named pig, Karl looked over to Ben. "Ben, why don't you tell us one of your stories?"
Ben shook his head with a chuckle, "No, no, no. It's ok Karl."
"Come on Ravencroft! At least tell us something! We've all shared something, why not get with the group eh?" Karl nagged on. Two of the Cossacks urged him on as well and handed him a bottle of vodka to drink from to ease his nerves. Ben shrugged and took a heavy drink from the bottle before collecting his thoughts to tell a story.
"Bah, I can't remember a thing from my days as a writer!" Ben shrugged drunkenly, The man could never hold his drink. "But I can tell you a story non the less!" Ben said as he took another strong swig from the vodka bottle. Karl smirked as he could see the liquor was jarring his memory, he could hear it in the slurs.
"Once their was a man... A Handsome man! Ah hell a devilishly handsome man! Named... Uhh... Ben! Yes, Ben, Ben was his name." Ben spoke in drunken slurs as he began his life story. Karl knew a little about Ben Ravencroft, the world only knew a little about him. Ravencroft was very secretive about his past, but one thing that he knew about Ben was his obsessiveness about anything paranormal. It was his obsession that brought him to the gates of hell...
Ben Ravencroft was born in Oakhaven and lived in the small town until he was about seventeen when he graduated early from Oakhaven High School at the top of his class with a talent for writing. He then traveled to Scotland on a scholarship to further his education and even publish his first book, "Blood Banker", in his freshman year alone. Soon Ben wrote more titles such as "Den of the Bear", "Hearts of Iron", "Desiree", and more with his flagship, his main book, "Dead Mall", in the years after his graduation from Collage. While in collage he began to write about the paranormal and collected a vast amount of literature on the paranormal from his travels around Europe. But something during his time reading about the paranormal he began to stumble upon a secret history of his family connection to the paranormal and the supernatural. He soon uncovered vast amounts of knowledge unknown to historians or paranormal scholars of which lead to notable attention being drawn to his discovers by a one Alexsandr Magnason who, in exchange for his information, began to give Ben information on a one "Sarah Ravencroft".
"Then... Then Ben beat the bastard back to hell and came here! The end!" Ben shouted in drunken joy as he fell off of the stump and pasted out behind it. The Cossacks laughed and hooted as much as they could and resumed their story telling. Karl stood up smirk on his face and turned to walk away from the fire for a moment. Sasha put her hand on his arm and Karl turned around to see a twinkle in Sasha's dark eyes as she asked where he was going.
"I'm going for a little stroll through the woods, It helps me ease my nerves a little." Karl responded as he turned his head forward to keep his eyes from locking with those familiar black eyes.
Sasha looked over at the cackling Cossacks and the snoozing Ravencroft briefly before rolling her eyes, "Mudak." She remarked in resentful tone at the drunkenness of the horsemen. "Do you mind if I join you?" She asked in a polite, yet quest tone. Karl stood like a stone with his back to her, Emotionless and hard, But on his face was a troubled and sympathetic look on his face. He could feel her hand gripped firmly on his arm, but it wasn't in a hostel way. Karl turned around slowly and saw the Blonde black eyed Sasha looking at him concern in her eyes that reminded him of Luna in some ways.
"Ja, das können Sie." He said nervously in German and motioned with his head for her to come with him. "Thank you." She replied with her hand still on his arm.
Karl and Sasha walked down a deer trail Karl found near the camp. The moon was half full and glared through the cracks of thick brush and reflected beautifully off of the snowy forest floor. "Such a beautiful night, Don't you agree?" Sasha asked Karl as the sound of the laughing Cossacks and the cracking of the fire began to fad under the sound of their boots crunching the snow. "Yeah, It is." Karl replied coldly as they continued on though the dark woods. Sasha gave a sigh and looked over to Karl, "You look troubled, Karl. Is their something wrong?" She asked him.
"Nah... Just enjoying the night, you know?" Karl said with a tired sigh.
Sasha shook her head, "No, I believe their is something bothering you." She took out a sliver case with the orthodox christian crossbar and opened it to reveal perfectly rolled cigarettes with a pack of matches. "Do you mind if I smoke?" She asked Karl as she took out the match book and a cigarette. "Nein, ist alles gut. Mind if I have one to ease my nerves a bit?" Karl asked as Sasha gave him her cigarette and she pulled another from the case. She lite Karl's for him and Karl returned the favor like gentlemen do. Karl took a deep drag off of his cigarette and let it out slowly get the full flavor of it all, "Thanks, It's been awhile since I had a smoke." Karl remarked.
"It's not a problem," Sasha replied. "You are a hero for what you did in Marlow. You know that?"
"I'm not a hero. Just filling a gap in the line." Karl replied coldly.
"What do you mean? You went though the Oseanian fire with out a worry, rallied the men, and manned the gun on the Marder like a veteran Tankist! Your a legend Karl." Sasha exclaimed to Karl.
"I'm not a damn legend, a hero, or anything. I'm just a man with a goal." Karl said as he finished his smoke and put it out against the bark of a near by tree and began to walk away.
"What would that be Karl?" Sasha asked him abruptly. Karl paused and turned slow back to Sasha who stood with the look of confusion.
"Returning home. Returning to the woman I love, back to her... Back to Dusk."