"Clash of Steel, Hearts of Iron"

Chapter 5

Angohelios stared at the man before him. He was ragged, and his armor worn and cut. Scars ran across his dirty face, and a beard befell him.

"Please, my good sir, let me into the damn tower. I must speak to the leaders of Battleon! It is urgent."

"Please inform me of what is so urgent that you must disrupt the counsel."

"I don't have time to tell you, and it is of the utmost importance. Please forgive my rudeness, but I have quite a tale to tell, and I would not like to spend time telling it twice!"

Angohelios looked behind him to gaze up at the top floor of the tower, then looked back at the man in front of him. Angohelios was one of the elite guardians watching over Guardian tower. He had held this job for nearly 15 years. And in all that time he had never seen anything quite like the sight in front him. A poor, ragged man, covered in dirt and it torn sheets of metal that bore a superficial resemblance to armor. The man had no weapons, no money, nothing.

And yet the man begged for an audience. In a time of war no less. Angohelios had grown up in deep poverty, but even he felt sorry for the man in front of him. He submitted.

"My friend, I will allow you in and take the fall for you. But remember this, every second you spend in there is the precious time of the counsel. We are at war you know, and the counsel needs to be ready to act. If you waste their time, I'll waste you. Do you understand?"

"Thank you sir! You will not regret it."

Angohelios led the man up the steps to the highest level of the tower. He swung open the door to the counsel chamber and held them open for the beggar. All the eyes of the room fell on them. Situated at the counsel table were many of Battleon's heroes, Artix Von Krieger, Robina Hood, Galenoth, Warlic, Matt, Damani, and Yulgar. Numerous counsel men, wise mages, crafty thieves, and brave warriors, sat at the table as well. At the sides of the room stood Ricobabie, and many other important figures.

"Good counsel men and women, I have brought you this beggar from the front gate. He asks for a private audience with you, and says it is of the utmost importance."

The speaker of the counsel, Andrusen, rose to his feet to speak.

"Have you asked our beggar here what is business is here?"

"Yes sir, but he refuses to tell me and persists that he must tell you his tale immediately. I decided to bring him to you after informing him of how precious your time is, and his insistence after that."

"Very well. Angohelios, you are dismissed, please resume to your post. We will be just fine with our guest."

Angohelios saluted, and marched back down the stairs, shutting the counsel door after him. The beggar turned to face the counsel. They all sat at a wide table, with Andrusen sitting in the center. The beggar just kneeled in silence.

"Well, you demanded an audience, we would like it if you were to tell us why you are here."

"Well, counsel man, I think that will be difficult. I don't know where to start. I have a grand tale to tell you all, but I don't know where to start."

"Is this a joke? You came here to tell us a story?"

"No, sir. I came to inform you of the fate of Captain Adagamefreak's fate along the river side."

"Excuse me?"

"Sir, I am Lieutenant Geoger, of his army. I commanded a company in the struggle that day. You see sir, the army of the Valleymen… they assaulted across the bridge. And they wiped everyone out. I am the only survivor, as far as I know."

The entire room gasped. Heads turned the as the counsel members spoke amongst one each other. For five minutes the whispering and shock moved around the room. When order finally settled, the shock was still present on everyone's faces. Andrusen asked his next several questions with his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"What happened? How could they destroy our army? We sent Adagamefreak with manuals. With tactics. With thousands of eager men! How could he be defeated?"

"Sir, I don't know sir. I don't know how those damned barbarians did it. At one point it seemed as if we would win. But they bombarded us with arrows until our lines buckled. They buried us in arrows! And they marched straight through us on foot. Their horseman drove us back, destroying the flimsy line that remained after their arrows. They came at us until not a single living man had not routed, save Adagamefreak. Even his bodyguards abandoned him out of fear of the barbarians."

"Why did they flee?"

"I cannot tell you sir. I could not get the information from them; even I wanted to know because they are dead. Everyone his dead. The horsemen, the butchers, they hunted us to the man. They let no one live. I only survived because I threw my body down into a mound of bodies as I flee. Those men had been encircled by horseman and cut down with arrows one by one. One by one without any mercy! I hid amongst the bodies."

Geoger paused.

"Then, they came for the bodies. They hacked bodies apart. The burned and roasted bodies. The men they capture were slowly and painfully executed, and the their bodies… They skinned men, and made a flesh rope out of the skin. They hung the carcasses from the bridge by the flesh ropes. I fled as they mutilated the fallen, for I knew they'd execute me if I were found. And so I fled, running back to Battleon as fast as I could. I cared for nothing, except for my life and how many miles between them and me. Oh, god! The horror… the horror… the horror… the… the… the horror…"

Geoger began to weep uncontrollably. Everyone in the entire chamber was dead silent.

Andrusen reluctantly broke the silence.

"Tell, me, honorable Lieutenant. What is the fate of Adagamefreak?"

"I cannot tell you. I do not know how they killed him, but he cannot still be alive."

"Well, Geoger. You have told us much, but please start from the beginning."

"Yes, sir…"

Chris's phalanxes marched across the bridge. They screamed battle chants. They sang songs about upcoming victory. They marched without a care in the world. They marched in phalanxes of 500, with about 100 feet of distance between each phalanx.

Chris didn't think he would need to flex a whole lot of muscle. At least not yet. He planned to go easy on his opponent until he had an idea of what to expect. Then he'd fuck him up and go for the kill.

All Chris could see was a large group of enemies, standing right in front of the bridge. Right in front of the phalanx's spears. God, what idiots. A direct charge, straight on at his men.

Adagamefreak was afraid. Would his plan work? He had worked so hard. All he wanted was to hold them off. Even if it meant defeat. He wanted the Valleymen to lose enough men to delay them. He just wanted to buy more time, for each day that children could play in the streets of Battleon without having to worry about the war, and each day they were safe was like a gift. It was precious and valuable.

Adagamefreak had a little surprise prepared. The only thing that could keep the enemy on their toes. He had actually listened to one of Chris's lectures once.

"There is no such thing as a perfect weapon. I assure you, if there were such a thing, that would be the only weapon anyone would ever use. Every weapon, tactic, formation, tool, or commander has a weakness to compensate its strengths."

Someone else listening to the lecture screamed out, "Who says that they have strengths?"

Chris screamed back, "Okay asshole! Then why in fucking hell are you relying on them? If you have a weapon with no goddamn strengths, then why are you fucking using it? Don't ask me stupid shit questions like that! And another thing. A perfectly balanced weapon is equally fucking useless for the reason I just stated. It has no fucking strengths, and that is its fucking weakness. Thanks you fucking prick, you just got me ranting!"

That was his only memory of Chris. He had heard otherwise, but he though he was strictly down to business when it came to this kind of stuff. He took his profession as commander quite seriously, amazing in contrast to rumors.

But, that was not the point. The lecture had reminded Ada that the phalanx did have a weakness. It's flanks. If those were exposed, the formation was screwed.

As the phalanx drew closer and closer, Adagamefreak was tempted. It felt so tempting to just charge and get it over with. Things were tense right now. But he determined to get it right. The moment drew closer, and it came. The phalanx was now moved off the bridge. The stone guardrails no longer blocked their flanks.

"Attack! Charge! Kill the motherfuckers!"

The nearby bushes rumbled as their concealed occupants revealed themselves and charged. The bushes ran parallel to the bridge, and the warriors who jumped out of them were charging straight at the flanks of the phalanx.

Chris watched the whole thing. In 8 minutes, it was over. All 500 gone. His Earax spearmen had dropped their spears and fought with their short swords. It had been basically a 1 for 1 trade off in terms of manpower, but Chris was stunned. It felt like a stab in the eye. He had just been ambushed, and outdone. Without orders, the second phalanx continued its march. The enemies formed a semi-circular perimeter around the mouth of the bridge. The second phalanx moved in and into the hot zone.

Chris cursed the whole time as his second phalanx fell into the same trap. They fared better, as they had more time to use their spears and the enemy no long possessed the element of surprise. Yet Chris was still embarrassed, because the enemy had used the same trick twice, and had lost some 1000 men within 20 minutes.

Chris felt like an idiot. His third phalanx had finally halted. He issued a general order to hold position.

To his left stood Colonel Hart, "Aye, sir. My archer corps is ready to go whenever you say so."

Chris looked back. "Hart, I know you mean well, but it won't damn work. I've got too many goddamn men on that bridge, and it would hamper the range of your archers. They would barely be able to hit anything. I'd need them a bit closer to he end of the bridge…"

"Sir, why can't we just pull some back?"

"I have 10 phalanxes on that bridge. It's a very confined space, only 50 men in length. I think its pretty fucking hard to back up."

"Ahhh, got any ideas, sir?"

"Okay, okay, let's rethink this. How many archers can you spare?"

"I have 6000 at my command."

"Okay, give me your best third. Your top 33.3 I'll need them."

"Roger sir! Where should I position them?"

"Well, we'll move them onto the bridge when we have enough damn room."

Chris was deep in thought for about a minute. But he thought and thought. An idea came to him. He summoned his 4 messengers.

"Okay, send a general order to every phalanx unit. We are going to have to perform a maneuver we've never practiced. We are going to have first phalanx form half a schiltron at the end of the bridge. A semicircle. Then we will have each phalanx behind it move in and consolidate with this "semi-schiltron". As we consolidate, the semi-schiltron will expand to fit the new troop mass, like a bubble. It will get bigger and bigger, and gradually push our enemies back. When all 10 units are in the formation, we'll move the archers in behind them and begin bombardments. After the archers open fire, stand by for further orders. Understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Within the counsel chambers, are was silent except for the voice of Geoger relating his tale.

"The spearmen began to form a semi-circle around the mouth of the bridge. It was like that… that schiltron formation. A couple of men charged them, only to be cut down. Then more and more enemies began to march and form up in the schiltron. It began to expand, and it got bigger and bigger. As it grew, its fangs began to get closer and closer, until they began to push us back. When the bubble had reached its largest, there must have been 5000 men inside it. Densely packed, completely guarding the bridge and all possible venues of attack…"

As he cut off, Andrusen spoke softly, "What happened next?"

"Then, their archers moved in behind them. They stood upon the bridge, untouchable. They began to fire; they rained arrows from the heavens. Tens of thousands of arrows fell upon us, and they cut us down like fresh wheat from a scythe. We fell by the hundreds, and panic was everywhere. Then, they shot arrows of fire. Beasts, horses and dogs, and everything were all frightened beyond wits end. Men were, cast ablaze, and threw themselves into the river, only to drown and perish in its waters. Three salvos of fiery missiles rain down and slaughtered hope…"

Geoger took a long pause. The counsel's eyes fell upon him.

"They marched out, after the knew we were losing. They formed their lines with efficiency. They formed a line, 500 men across, and marched all over us. It was virtually over. Their whole army marched over the bridge, and made room for their cavalry to march over. They cavalry charged us, and that's when it all broke down. We had lost, and the whole army routed. As I fled, I saw Adagamefreak charge at them. He only looked back once, and he screamed at us, 'Come back, you fucking cowards! Fight like real Battleonians!' He kept running at them as we fled. That's the last I saw of him…"

Robina Hood stood up. "Well, my friend, you've told us enough. Please retire downstairs. We thank you for this information. Take a bath, clothes will be given to you, and you will be given a room to stay in. Stay as long as you wish. Now please go, we must discuss what happens next."

Geoger left sobbing, without a word. He shut the door behind him and made his way down stairs.

Warlic stood. "That bastard!"

Andrusen, still in shock, spoke back. "Who?"

Warlic replied. "Adagamefreak! I gave him foolproof plans, and he fucked up!"

Matt spoke, "I'm sure he followed your plans to the word. He just wasn't able to pull it off. Maybe something else went wrong with the way we engaged."

Warlic was still infuriated. "I still can't fucking believe this! War used to be that we'd go out, kick some people's Asses, and come home victorious. Times are changing to fast…"

Artix spoke, "No one said this war would be easy. We all thought that way, but the game changed. Now, we have an enemy who we have apparently wronged. But do we deserve this? Do we deserve to be treated like this? Our city burned, our homes plundered. We marched on their homes for killing our people. We fought with them; the good majority of us fought an honorable war. Do we deserve this kind of genocidal madness because a handful of us have been evil sons-of-bitches? Do we deserve this?"

Galanoth was cold as he spoke. "Matt, I have lost faith in you over the past few months. For each time you go to battle, Chris attacks you and you come home with news of defeat. It was time for someone else to take the heat, but now that someone else is dead. You are lucky to be alive. But, I must ask you. You are the closest to the 'Galin. You seem to be able to connect to him, though for what reason we do not know. What does he know of Chris' activities?"

Matt responded, "Well, I have spoken to him several times. Chris honors him, but he remains largely independent. He has outgrown the 'Galin's assistance, and basically operates on his own. The 'Galin has no control over what he does, his loyalty only seems evident in his words…"

Galanoth spoke again, "Then, why does the 'Galin not uncreate him? He'll uncreate us all anyway."

Matt responded once more, "He says there are complicated reasons why he won't do it. At least not yet…"

Galanoth's face took on a sarcastic grin. "So, here we have a renegade General, brought from your world, wreaking havoc on ours. How pleasant. No one controls him, no one tames him. Tell me, do you have any others friends from your world who might know how to undo our dear friend?"

Matt took this as a shock, and then spoke. "Well, now that you ask, I do have two other friends who I invited to help us fight. But they aren't here. Both rejected my offers. Edward and Matt Benjamin. I did have trouble getting in contact with Edward, and when he finally reached him, he refused me. I can't help but feel a little suspicious why it took so long…"

Warlic spoke, "Magically displacing people from their world significantly slows time on the planet to compensate for their disappearance. The more people you take, the more it slows. So far, we have you, Ricobabie, Damani, and Chris. Now, when you visited your parents, I cast a very complex spell that allowed you to communicate with Terra, but you burned through all the minutes we had of contact. We needed to wait a little while to recover our minutes to recover Edward, that's why you had difficulty."

Matt felt like joking around, "If you need more minutes, why don't you just switch to T-Mobile?"

Warlic looked at him in a puzzled manner, "Say what?"

Matt smiled, "Nothing, nothing."

Andrusen raised his voice, "My friends, we need to stop bantering, and discuss the problem at hand."

A large, stocky paladin named Crispin stood up, and banged him hands on the table. He grunted loudly, and began to breathe loudly while staring at the table.

Andrusen looked at him, and spoke. "Crispin, is there a problem?"

Crispin banged the table again, and screamed. "Goddammit! Damn it, damn all of you! All that ever do is talk about problems! Well, let me tell you something! I am sick of damn problems. All we ever damn do is talk about them. Why do we always talk about problems?"

Andrusen looked back blankly, "Well, my friend, what do you propose we do?"

Crispin screamed again, "Why not talk about solutions, instead of damn problems? Why not? Solutions! God, we talk about problems, we never talk about resolving the damn issues we bring up! We're all mindless bureaucrats, never solutions, only more damn problems! Resolve the damn issues already!"

Warlic snapped back, "It was my job to come up with solutions to beat Chris."

Crispin looked at him, "Woopdy-fucking-doo! Your solution didn't fucking work! So now what do you fucking do? Instead of coming up with another one, you only find another fucking problem. We need damn solutions, not motherfucking problems! Can't any of you fucking understand that?"

Andrusen spoke, "My friend, we have tried to come up with solutions to beat the renegade general at his own game. We've tried, so it's understandable to be concerned why our solution didn't work."

Crispin voice became calm, "So, all you want to do is beat him at his own game. Has that worked? Has that ever fucking worked?" He began to scream again. "Goddamn it, no it has not! Why do we keep trying to beat him at his own game? Why don't we try something else? Every damn time we try to beat him by force, there is a repercussion for us. They've already burned Battleon. Do you think they won't try again? They now own that damn bridge, you know that? They can send whatever they want over that bridge. They can raid us, they can smuggle an army to us. So why keep going at this? Why keep sending more men to die in vain. You all say you care about Battleon. Then why do you keeping sending its finest to go off to war and die for no damn reason?"

Warlic spoke, "Because there is a chance we might win those battles we send them to."

Crispin's voice became calm once again, but it was filled with scorn. He looked over the room, scanning over everyone's faces as he spoke.

"You hear that? He say's there's a fucking chance. He says, that there is a fucking chance. Well fuck that! We are at their mercy now, under-fucking-stand? We can't just risk men's lives for a fucking chance. We play his game; he wins, because he seems to know the rules better than us. God, I don't even think he's a grown man and he is still kicking our Asses. You know what? We should stop it. We ought to stop being idiots. We ought to do something smart."

"Well?"

"Be diplomats. Play diplomacy. Get a fucking truce. Or maybe not even a truce. Just, prevent the war from escalating. Sign an anti-escalation pact. Matt, you spearhead this, all right, because you've got the connections to make him fold. You can put enough pressure on his ass to make him go with us. Its time to stop wasting men's lives by the thousands. If we're going to fight this, we should do this fair and square. We fight this off the mainland; we keep it away from our children. I'm sure they want to protect their kids as much as we do. Everyone understand me?"

The whole counsel stared at Crispin. He sat back down and stared into space. No one said a word.

Several Days Earlier

Adagamefreak awoke in the darkness. His shins and wrists were completely bound. The last thing he could remember was a duel with a dismounted cavalry soldier, before the soldier swung him his spear at him. He felt a blunt pain on the right side of his head, and he felt dried blood in his hair.

He heard loud noises. Music. He looked up to see several men standing on a platform, swaying back and forth. Below them sat men with instruments.

Across the fields were dozens of bonfires, fueled by corpses. The area reeked of burning flesh. Thousands of men in armor, many brandishing weapons, danced, jumping up and down and swinging to the rhythm. Nude women danced in rhythm, much to the delight of the men around them. The men on the platform sang an incomprehendable, yet intimidating song.

The thousands of men drank, played cards, and danced. They screamed like the children of Satan. Adagamefreak saw a man with long hair dancing. The hair color didn't seem natural, though. He first thought it was a wig, and then he realized it was a scalp. He looked to the man's feet to see a scalped corpse. He looked all around in the dark chaos.

Battleon bodies lay everywhere. The ground was soaked in blood. There were survivors being tortured and beaten everywhere. Men were being roasted alive over the bonfires, screaming for mercy. The soldiers were executing prisoners with their own weapons. Severed heads lay randomly on the ground, like debris. Adagamefreak realized this was the aftermath of his battle. This was how the barbarians treated their prisoners. He had never felt more afraid in his life.

Then a man in a dark cloak walked up to him, and removed his hood. It was Chris. Adagamefreak rose his knees, and Chris kneeled in front of him. Adagamefreak stared into his cold eyes, unmoving. Adagamefreak began to pant and pant in fear and desperation. Without a word, Chris brandished a severed head. The head of Adagamefreak's chief bodyguard. Chris grabbed the top of the head, and began to pull on the chin to open the mouth. He began to move the mouth to match his words.

"Well, Adagamefreak, you are my prisoner. Welcome… to Hell!"

Adagamefreak screamed, and fainted from fear…