Worlds Torn
By Love_Hina_Fan
Chapter 3
"Riflemen! Attention! Grunts on the left flank! Ready your rifles!" The general screamed as he watched a battalion of those piggish freaks march towards their encampment. The general, Marcus Tiberius was a tall man, dark brown hair, muscular and thought by many to be too young for his position. He carried an unusually large broad sword on his back, a gift from the Counsel, named the Sword of Tears. Lately things had been boring, they had massacred every onslaught this new enemy had thrown at them. There were fewer grunts then the usual this time, though. The soldiers flocked to the left flank and filled their rifles with powder and prepared to fire. "Take aim!" He said lifting his broad sword in the direction of the oncoming horde. "FIRE!" And the riflemen let lose a volley of shots, downing all but a few enemies. "Cavalry! Prepare yourselves!" The riflemen would reload, which would take them awhile, these new weapons were a one shot use and prone to unreliability, hence they were used as a first strike only, then the knights would run in and take care of the stragglers, least that's how the battle plan usually went. Marcus readied his stallion, Dyna, and brandished his sword. He held it high and pointed it towards the thirty grunts left advancing towards their position.
"Cavalry! For Maelstrom! Charge!" And that was all he had to say. He rushed Dyna like a man possessed into the fray. Infantry marched forward, riflemen reloaded, and the cavalry fought hard. Marcus ran through a group of five grunts and managed to decapitate two and seriously wound another two. But he was un lucky enough to be thrown from his horse by the remaining warrior. He scrambled around in the dirt, looking for his sword. It was laying three feet from where he crawled in the muck. But as he reached over, a large booted foot stepped on the hilt, barring him from retrieving his weapon. He looked up only to see the horribly twisted expression of the dog-men. It barked in its native language and hefted a large battleaxe over its head, savoring this deathblow.
"Fresh meat." It muttered in a liquid human voice. But Marcus was quicker than it expected. He swung around and kicked it behind the kneecap, sending it falling to the ground. With the Sword of Tears back in his possession, Marcus beheaded the grunt. He turned around only to find another pair running for him, and as they closed in he side stepped both of them. They tried to slow down but they had been going too fast. He hacked on off down at the thighs, but the other one had time to regain his balance and brandish his spear. It thrust it towards Marcus who parried with his blade. It made a sweeping blow at his knees, hoping to knock him down, but Marcus made a quick back flip and thrust his blade into the sternum of the larger creature. It fell to the ground, gurgling as blood filled its throat. Marcus, still on his guard, turned around and surveyed the battlefield; half the grunts remained, and were dying off quickly. They had them beat, but this was nothing new. But before he could finish his thoughts, a trumpet blared and the grunts all stopped what they were doing, began rapidly barking and turned tail and head back into the woods. The rest of the human soldiers were left standing in wonder. It had obviously been a call to retreat, but the warriors were so fanatical that they would stop in the middle of a duel, being killed in the process.
Marcus picked himself up and took a look at himself. His armor was badly beaten up, his shield nearly destroyed, but his sword didn't have a scratch on it. Right now, though, he needed to round up his men, tend the wounded, and figure out why the creatures suddenly retreated.
Several hours later camp was alive with music, conversation, and laughter. Many had been wounded, but none had died. The soldiers were celebrating another victory in a long line of victories. Throughout the whole campaign the Humans had not lost one battle to the hellish horde that was plaguing them. And although the origin of these freaks was unknown, the soldiers were willing to let it lie, as long as they were decimating their enemy. But Marcus was curious; he had never seen such creatures. These monsters were the thing of fairy-tales and nightmares; they weren't supposed to be real. Yet as he surveyed the battlefield, the dead bodies reassured him that they were not only the figment of some child's warped imagination.
"These things are real." he whispered.
As he stood there he hear the footsteps of another nearing him. He turned around and squinted into the darkness, but a dim outline was all he could make out. It stopped moving and seemed to stand there for a moment, as if contemplating whether to come any closer. Then the figure took a step forward, and Marcus immediately recognized the face. It was consulate Atraeu, a delegate and former soldier from Maelstrom. Atraeu and Marcus' father had served together and had become inseparable friends, Atraeu had been the one to suggest giving Marcus the promotion to general.
"Yes, you are right, these creatures are real, as real as you or I. The question is, where are they coming from?"
"Atraeu! What brings you all the way out to front? I would never have thought any of you politicians would leave the comfort of your own homes." He said as they embraced. Atraeu uttered a rye laugh.
"So Marcus, what do you make our new visitors?"
"They don't make much for a fight, they walk right into our riflemen's sights, and they don't fight too well, they had power behind them, but no skill to couple it with, but they're form. they look like dogs, or pigs, out of a child's nightmare. They aren't human, does that mean they come from.?" He trailed off, not wanting to say it.
"It is possible, Hyrule has many different races, living independently of one another, it could be a rouge race."
"Or it could be the Hylians, trying to destroy all we've created here." Marcus said in a bitter tone.
"Ho ho ho, young Marcus, you are smart, but you have yet to learn how the world really works, one day you will. No, I highly doubt it is the Hylians, ancient texts unearthed in the last year even point to a power greater than what we know that has plagued Hyrule for a millennia, something about a demon king named Ganon or something. maybe this could be it."
"You mean magic?" Marcus asked with an incredulous laugh.
"No my boy, no. We all know that doesn't exist, but maybe it's a more organzied society than the Hylians, I would have no idea."
"Well what ever it is we're fighting, I'll gladly lay down my life to protect my country." Marcus said with pride.
"Ah war is for the young, but I do get a certain jolt of youthfulness from visiting a battlefield. Reminds of my days fighting for the Republic." He said as he knelt down, picking up the sword of one of the fell beasts. He twirled it around in such a fashion as to make it seem like child's play. Atraeu was a known master of the arts of war, the only reason he was still a politician is the Republic saw him more useful as a orator than a fighter. "I've come with news from home. The counsel has decided that this war is becoming too tedious, they want us to find the source of this and destroy it, sever the head from the body, so to speak, and be rid of this threat immediately."
Marcus was appalled by the thought of leaving. These were his troops, they were his family, and he wasn't going to leave them.
"I'm sure there's more qualified people than me to take on this task, my place is here, with my troops."
Atraeu's voice became stern, like a father reprimanding a child. "General Marcus, you are being ordered by the counsel of elders to return home for a briefing, and that's final, you'll leave tomorrow morning at sunrise." And with that Atraeu walked back to join the festivities. And Marcus was left to think, surrounded by the bones and bodies of a growing nightmare
By Love_Hina_Fan
Chapter 3
"Riflemen! Attention! Grunts on the left flank! Ready your rifles!" The general screamed as he watched a battalion of those piggish freaks march towards their encampment. The general, Marcus Tiberius was a tall man, dark brown hair, muscular and thought by many to be too young for his position. He carried an unusually large broad sword on his back, a gift from the Counsel, named the Sword of Tears. Lately things had been boring, they had massacred every onslaught this new enemy had thrown at them. There were fewer grunts then the usual this time, though. The soldiers flocked to the left flank and filled their rifles with powder and prepared to fire. "Take aim!" He said lifting his broad sword in the direction of the oncoming horde. "FIRE!" And the riflemen let lose a volley of shots, downing all but a few enemies. "Cavalry! Prepare yourselves!" The riflemen would reload, which would take them awhile, these new weapons were a one shot use and prone to unreliability, hence they were used as a first strike only, then the knights would run in and take care of the stragglers, least that's how the battle plan usually went. Marcus readied his stallion, Dyna, and brandished his sword. He held it high and pointed it towards the thirty grunts left advancing towards their position.
"Cavalry! For Maelstrom! Charge!" And that was all he had to say. He rushed Dyna like a man possessed into the fray. Infantry marched forward, riflemen reloaded, and the cavalry fought hard. Marcus ran through a group of five grunts and managed to decapitate two and seriously wound another two. But he was un lucky enough to be thrown from his horse by the remaining warrior. He scrambled around in the dirt, looking for his sword. It was laying three feet from where he crawled in the muck. But as he reached over, a large booted foot stepped on the hilt, barring him from retrieving his weapon. He looked up only to see the horribly twisted expression of the dog-men. It barked in its native language and hefted a large battleaxe over its head, savoring this deathblow.
"Fresh meat." It muttered in a liquid human voice. But Marcus was quicker than it expected. He swung around and kicked it behind the kneecap, sending it falling to the ground. With the Sword of Tears back in his possession, Marcus beheaded the grunt. He turned around only to find another pair running for him, and as they closed in he side stepped both of them. They tried to slow down but they had been going too fast. He hacked on off down at the thighs, but the other one had time to regain his balance and brandish his spear. It thrust it towards Marcus who parried with his blade. It made a sweeping blow at his knees, hoping to knock him down, but Marcus made a quick back flip and thrust his blade into the sternum of the larger creature. It fell to the ground, gurgling as blood filled its throat. Marcus, still on his guard, turned around and surveyed the battlefield; half the grunts remained, and were dying off quickly. They had them beat, but this was nothing new. But before he could finish his thoughts, a trumpet blared and the grunts all stopped what they were doing, began rapidly barking and turned tail and head back into the woods. The rest of the human soldiers were left standing in wonder. It had obviously been a call to retreat, but the warriors were so fanatical that they would stop in the middle of a duel, being killed in the process.
Marcus picked himself up and took a look at himself. His armor was badly beaten up, his shield nearly destroyed, but his sword didn't have a scratch on it. Right now, though, he needed to round up his men, tend the wounded, and figure out why the creatures suddenly retreated.
Several hours later camp was alive with music, conversation, and laughter. Many had been wounded, but none had died. The soldiers were celebrating another victory in a long line of victories. Throughout the whole campaign the Humans had not lost one battle to the hellish horde that was plaguing them. And although the origin of these freaks was unknown, the soldiers were willing to let it lie, as long as they were decimating their enemy. But Marcus was curious; he had never seen such creatures. These monsters were the thing of fairy-tales and nightmares; they weren't supposed to be real. Yet as he surveyed the battlefield, the dead bodies reassured him that they were not only the figment of some child's warped imagination.
"These things are real." he whispered.
As he stood there he hear the footsteps of another nearing him. He turned around and squinted into the darkness, but a dim outline was all he could make out. It stopped moving and seemed to stand there for a moment, as if contemplating whether to come any closer. Then the figure took a step forward, and Marcus immediately recognized the face. It was consulate Atraeu, a delegate and former soldier from Maelstrom. Atraeu and Marcus' father had served together and had become inseparable friends, Atraeu had been the one to suggest giving Marcus the promotion to general.
"Yes, you are right, these creatures are real, as real as you or I. The question is, where are they coming from?"
"Atraeu! What brings you all the way out to front? I would never have thought any of you politicians would leave the comfort of your own homes." He said as they embraced. Atraeu uttered a rye laugh.
"So Marcus, what do you make our new visitors?"
"They don't make much for a fight, they walk right into our riflemen's sights, and they don't fight too well, they had power behind them, but no skill to couple it with, but they're form. they look like dogs, or pigs, out of a child's nightmare. They aren't human, does that mean they come from.?" He trailed off, not wanting to say it.
"It is possible, Hyrule has many different races, living independently of one another, it could be a rouge race."
"Or it could be the Hylians, trying to destroy all we've created here." Marcus said in a bitter tone.
"Ho ho ho, young Marcus, you are smart, but you have yet to learn how the world really works, one day you will. No, I highly doubt it is the Hylians, ancient texts unearthed in the last year even point to a power greater than what we know that has plagued Hyrule for a millennia, something about a demon king named Ganon or something. maybe this could be it."
"You mean magic?" Marcus asked with an incredulous laugh.
"No my boy, no. We all know that doesn't exist, but maybe it's a more organzied society than the Hylians, I would have no idea."
"Well what ever it is we're fighting, I'll gladly lay down my life to protect my country." Marcus said with pride.
"Ah war is for the young, but I do get a certain jolt of youthfulness from visiting a battlefield. Reminds of my days fighting for the Republic." He said as he knelt down, picking up the sword of one of the fell beasts. He twirled it around in such a fashion as to make it seem like child's play. Atraeu was a known master of the arts of war, the only reason he was still a politician is the Republic saw him more useful as a orator than a fighter. "I've come with news from home. The counsel has decided that this war is becoming too tedious, they want us to find the source of this and destroy it, sever the head from the body, so to speak, and be rid of this threat immediately."
Marcus was appalled by the thought of leaving. These were his troops, they were his family, and he wasn't going to leave them.
"I'm sure there's more qualified people than me to take on this task, my place is here, with my troops."
Atraeu's voice became stern, like a father reprimanding a child. "General Marcus, you are being ordered by the counsel of elders to return home for a briefing, and that's final, you'll leave tomorrow morning at sunrise." And with that Atraeu walked back to join the festivities. And Marcus was left to think, surrounded by the bones and bodies of a growing nightmare
