November 30, 4000 BC, Mountain Pass between Berlin and London

The past twelve weeks had been the most boring of my life. Martin told me to consider it a vacation, but I didn't consider standing around protecting a bunch of guys from a very real threat a "vacation." I suppose in my line of work excitement means danger, but honestly by the eighth week I was secretly hoping for something, anything, to happen. I even envied the workers a little bit, despite how tired they always seemed to be, because at least they had something to do.

Luckily, today would be the last day of construction. In a few hours we should be meeting up with the English workers and then we can finally go home. At the thought of this curiosity overtook me and I trotted over to George.

"Sir?" I asked him, saluting.

"At ease, Erik. What's on your mind?" He replied, not taking his eyes off the woods beyond the workers.

I relaxed. "Any idea on what our next assignment is going to be, sir?"

He shook his head. "No idea. Unless some new event has transpired, which we would most likely know about by now, the 1st Archers will still be garrisoned in Berlin, so I doubt we'll be staying there for more than a night."

This disheartened me a little, despite my lust for action.

"So I imagine we'll be redeployed to exploration duties or defense of a farm or mine or something."

"Ah." Not surprising, but still, my longing for activity remained.

"Now I have a question for you," George continued, "The new recruit. What do you think of him?"

I thought of the new recruit before responding. His name was Lars, and he had been a miner before volunteering to fill the military position left by Alex. He had been deemed acceptable and trained before joining us upon our last visit to Berlin. We had gotten to know him over the past few weeks, especially Peter, who had taken him under his wing, so to speak. He had been nearly silent at first, but had eventually opened up to the group, though he still was the quietest of us all. Physically he was similar to George; his time in the mines had made him strong.

"He seems like a good man, sir. I think over time he'll make a fine Warrior."

George nodded. "I agree. As you were, Erik."

I saluted him once more, "Yes sir," and returned to my post. Next to me stood Lucas, who began to speak as I approached.

"What were you asking George, Erik?"

"About our next assignment," I replied, "He reckons either exploration or guard duty."

Lucas swore. "Man, I know it must seem kind of stupid, seeing as how we lost Alex last time we were in combat, but I really feel like some action after all these weeks of standing around."

I nodded. "I feel the same way. Just our natural Warrior instincts, I guess."

Lucas chuckled. "Yeah. Hey, how about that new guy, ey?"

I shrugged. "Quiet, built like George, I dunno, I haven't really noticed anything noteworthy yet."

"I'm waiting to see how he reacts to his first fight. He better not run away or anything like that."

"If he was a coward, they wouldn't have let him onto the squad."

"The division, you mean," Lucas corrected.

I snorted. "There's twelve of us. What are we supposed to be a division of?"

"Lord Bismarck hopes to expand our numbers someday," a third voice said. We turned to see Ralph approaching. "The name exists as it is so it won't have to be changed in the future."

"How do you know so much?" Lucas asked.

"Heard it in Palace while I was healing," Ralph replied, "The healers were awfully chatty. Not bad looking either-"

"You three!"

We spun toward George's voice, which was shouting at us from across the clearing.

"Quit your chatting and focus on the surroundings!"

"Yes sir!" We shouted back before dispersing, quickly.

It wasn't much longer until the English came into view. Their workers were being escorted by Henry's Longbowmen. The two military units stood stockily, each trying to stare down the other, except for George and Henry, who met in the middle and began to chat in hushed tones, whilst the workers from both sides were finishing up the road. A couple of hours later they were finished, and after a few more words exchanged between our respective leaders we departed.

Once out of earshot of the English I heard George mutter under his breath, "Cocky English bastards."

For some reason this prompted me to smile.

December 28, 4000 BC, Berlin, Barracks

Only a few minutes after we arrived back at the Barracks a messenger informed us we were needed at the Palace. We all began to grumble, but George called for quiet and we marched over there.

Lord Bismarck was waiting for us in his office. Before we could even salute and waved for us to be at ease.

"Come look at this." He gestured to his table. We all gathered around to see a map spread out across it. It showed Berlin, London, and all the surrounding areas that had been explored. A big red X had been drawn at a location to our east.

"Shortly after you all left we assembled a Scout unit, which we've since and sent them west to find the source of the Barbarian attack." He pointed to the X. "That's their encampment, and it's far larger and more well protected than the one you all took out earlier this year. As such I'm sending you to take it out with another military unit."

"But sir," Alfred interrupted, "Won't you need the Archers here to defend the city?"

"I wasn't talking about the Archers."

"He was talking about us," a voice proclaimed.

We all turned to see a large man emerge from the shadows, clutching one of the unknown weapons the Barbarians had been armed with.

"Warriors," Bismarck said tentatively, "Meet Derrick Junker, leader of the 1st Spearmen Division."

Now I know what you're thinking. The famous Derrick Junker of the legendary 1st Anti-Tank Division, and the famous Erik Herrmann of the 1st Infantry Division? Surely we had gotten along splendidly every since we had met. Well, despite what the media propaganda might have told the population at the time, it was only around that time that we began to get along at all.

January 11, 3999 BC, Wheat Fields just outside Barbarian encampment, Noon

We were almost at the Barbarian encampment. And Lord Bismarck was right to send more than one unit.

This encampment was surrounded by flat land, meaning the element of surprise was not an option, as they had seen us coming for a while now, and had plenty of time to fortify their defenses. The wheat fields were currently hiding us from their view, but the damage was already done. They were ready for us this time.

George and Derrick were both sitting with Bismarck's map laid out in front of them. The rest of us had gathered around them, waiting for orders.

"We should do a joint strike at night," Derrick proposed firmly, "Overwhelm them when they can't see us."

George shook his head. "They already ready for us; a night raid would only mean less light for us to see by. We should attack later today, and from different flanks. That will force them to divide their forces."

Derrick looked like he wanted to argue, but George gave him a stern look, and George could be very intimidating when he wanted to. He stood.

"Let us eat," he proclaimed, "Then, we attack."

The two groups ate separately, each in their own circle. George went off to relive himself, and once he was out of earshot a conversation arose.

"So, whaddya guys think of those Spearmen?" Peter asked.

"I don't like them," Carl answered immediately, "Did you hear their leader's plan today? If it weren't for George he would have gotten us all killed."

"Don't forget his men," Ralph added, "Arrogant pricks. Just because they had some shiny new weapons. Way they act, you'd think they'd taken out a hundred encampments."

Otto chimed in as well, "Why couldn't they send the Archers with us? At least they'd be useful in a fight."

"Yeah," Lucas chuckled, "They coulda just shot away at the Barbs for as long as they wanted, then we woulda just had to march in their and mop up whoever was left."

"Look at Lars here," Alfred gestured, "He's a new recruit, but you don't see him running his mouth off."

"Erm, thank you, Alfred," Lars said.

"Here, here," Joseph raised his clay cup filled with water, "To Germany. Even if we don't love all of her citizens, may she live long and prosper."

"And," Martin added, also raising his cup, "To victory over these accursed Barbarian savages!"

We all raising our glasses with a cheer, drawing looks from the Spearmen. But none of us cared. As David later said, "They're so reckless, they'll all be dead in a year."

That didn't end up being quite the case.

A/N: Well, that was a quicker turnaround than usual. As always, thanks for reading and please review!