Ch 15: Caught in the crossfire.
"What happened to your eye, Marco?" Walter used his wand to direct a marching army on the table. The army looked like a tiny crown of ants, that were somehow humanoid.
"It was infected. It had to be cut out." Marco experimented with the wand, directing armies and executing commands. Rest, rolecall, and defensive positions by just thinking. When he got the results back, he just knew within his mind.
"Infected? How?" Walter ordered his army to land on a beach. The army then started to march towards Mewni from the south.
"I don't like to talk about it much." Marco noticed the incoming army, and noticed that there were only three ways for Walter's army to reach Mewni: Through monster infested mountains, along a vulnerable river cutting through the mountains, or some plains to the side of the mountains. Marco tried his luck and positioned his army along the river.
Walter grunted "Does hurt now?" Walter made his Army move through the plains.
"Sometimes. But I have a way to relieve the pain." Marco retreated his army and remembered something. He could make people do anything in this game. He made a supply party in Mewni, then made them go get weapons from another dimension. By the time the guns reached the army, Walter's army had advanced towards Mewni with no resistance. That would change.
"What are you doing?" Walter whispered. "What's your plan, sonny?"
"It's time to end this war by christmas." Marco set up his army in a line a good distance from the frontline. He then instructed his armies to do one thing: Entrench
Dark lines ran along the soon to be front. Layers upon layers of trenches made the map a bit like an onion. A metal rock hard onion. As Walter advanced, he hit the trenches. His advanced halted.
The advance did more than halt. The advance was devastated. Almost medieval armies clashed with the fire of machine guns on the battleground. Almost every time Walter lost. Nay, he didn't just lose, he was utterly defeated. Walter rammed his armies against the utter concrete wall. When he actually broke through, there was just another layer of trench.
"Smart kid." Walter took a bite from a cookie "Never seen this before."
Marco finally got artillery to the frontline. He started to shell the enemy front. The devastation was so great that he could see the mud. Now it was not a hell of fire, it was a hell of mud.
"The Great War." Marco looked upon the front. The fierce defense of Mewni was only matched by the determination to Walter. Again and again the front was rammed into. Again and again they defended.
"Eh, I've seen bigger. Never did command in any." Walter desperately tried to reinforce his troops to no avail. The first snow of winter started to fall on the battlefield, the cold was surely gonna starve Walter out. That was when Marco was gonna strike.
"Aren't you a commander?" Marco asked.
"Yup. But there aren't any wars recently. I wish something could happen, so I could use my skills for once"
"I'll keep that in mind." Marco ordered the counter attack in the middle of a blizzard. Swiftly, Walter was pushed back. Marco made some armies conquer the beaches, slashing any hopes of escape. Marco had no need to do this, he just thought it would be something to brag about. Killing the entire army on the first go.
"Aaaaand you lose." Marco said as the last army fell.
"Good game kid." Walter held his hand out. Marco shook it.
"Mighty fine game." Marco then realized there was some text on the gameboard "hey, what's this?"
"Oh just some sayings made up by the troops. Chants and what not. Would you like to read them?"
Marco read them outloud "'Hell is not fire. It is mud. Cold, cold mud.' -from an interview after the war."
"Well, that's weird." Walter seemed confused about the sayings.
"'I give my life, for my homeland. But who will mourn me? The troops will keep on marching.' -A song popular on the frontlines" Marco seemed invested in reading.
"'They were dying. And I fired upon them. They tell me it was for Mewni, but what about them?' -A popular poem from the frontlines"
"'The front is hell, Maria. I may not die, but the screams of the enemy is touture.' -A letter from the front."
"'The grandest orchestra I ever heard. It will resonate for one million years.' -An injured civilian caught in the-" Marco looked away from the text.
Walter closed the gameboard "You ok buddy?"
Marco rubbed his eye "Yes. I'm just- I need a minute."
"Well, you obviously need it."
Marco took a few deep breaths. "Ok, so I'm not looking at those again."
"Good, because we'll be playing a few more games for our lesson." Walter opened the box. It was reset, and the land was pristine.
"Walter, that wasn't a real war I just commanded right?"
"Of course it isn't a real war." Walter said with a smile.
"Good." Marco said. Though when he played the next game, he felt a twinge of guilt. He knew they were not real, but he still felt bad when he utterly destroyed Walter.