CHAPTER I: Troubled Times
Late Spring, Year 681, Second Age
The city of Telta. The first major Imperial city that travelers from the north would encounter before they would continue into the Empire itself. Telta is the second-largest city, only to the capital, Sadera. It is a military garrison city, with over 50,000 Imperial soldiers. They use it as a staging area and a checkpoint before moving out to conduct patrols and engage in large battles. All the soldiers there have one majorly important mission: Prevent the orc armies from escaping the Mountain Range of Ice and Snow.
Before it was a military garrison, it was the largest trade hub in all of Falmart. Before the orcs came to this world, the High Elves of the North would make peace and offer traded goods from their forest kingdoms that sit northeast of the mountains. The dwarves of the kingdoms in the mountain ranges would also trade at Telta. It truly was the gateway to Falmart, for in both people and wealth.
That would change after the orcs were driven north. Trade from the dwarves gradually disappeared, and the High Elves were forced to take alternate routes to the Imperial Capital to avoid orc ambushes along the road to Telta. This all but dried up the wealth and travel to the city. The city would only be saved from its abandonment due to its strategic position. Situated 100 leagues from the southernmost tip of the mountain ranges, it was a good place for the large armies of the Empire to resupply and restore their strength from long marches.
But even now, with the Empire's best generals and finest knights and soldiers defending the city, evil forces are preparing to launch a massive campaign that will rock the entire continent to its core…
"Welcome to Telta my lord. I take it your journey was well?"
General Oppius Maximus steps out of his carriage to a formal welcome by a cohort of the city's finest soldiers. The man who had spoken to him was the governor of the city, Lars Caprarius.
"Indeed. It was a peaceful two days ride. I was able to see the beautiful lands that we are tasked with keeping safe."
Oppius walks up the procession of soldiers lined up on each side. Their plate armor was freshly polished and shined for the occasion. Oppius didn't like the shininess for parades and show, but he did like the armor shiny, knowing it was well taken care of. Both he and the governor reach the steps that lead to the capital building of the city.
"We have prepared our legions for inspection and the massive training demonstration, as per your request. Though, I am a bit puzzled as to why you would want either. They are some of the best troops trained by the Imperial Army."
"One should never rely too much on just their initial training. One must improve oneself if one wishes to succeed in battle. Only when a man pushes himself past his limit, will he be able to destroy the enemy."
The capital building was enormous and carried the echo of their conversation. They would continue to talk about the inspections before they reached the observatory tower that gave them a view of the entire city. At the center of the room was a large table with a model of the city. Positioned on the north side of the table was a model of the mountain ranges that contained the orcs. Surrounding the north, northeastern, and northwestern parts of the table were the adjacent mountain ranges that formed a choke point where the main highway passed through.
Surrounding the table were captains, chief centurions, and legion commanders who made sure the 50,000-strong garrison was ready for war.
"I have looked at this map over 100 times, and yet, I still find no comfort in what it is I see." Oppius speaks after he reaches the table.
"What do you mean general?" One of the legionnaires asks.
"We have not seen a single orc nor have drawn orc blood for over 40 years. Some would believe that the enemy has succumbed to the cold. Some also believe that the dwarven lords and kings of those mountains are still keeping guard. These things I do not believe."
Silent murmurs are heard before Oppius speaks again.
"Think gentlemen. Isn't it odd that for the last two decades, the number and sightings of dwarves from those mountains have grown lower? And isn't it odd that they have completely stopped all trade with us as well?"
"It could be they are wanting to hold onto their wealth, sir."
"No, they make their wealth by selling swords, shields, spears, and armor. We pay them in gold, which is what they hoard in those mountains. Or, was what they hoarded."
Everyone is silent. A few of the legionnaires whisper to the governor before Oppius pulls out a scroll of paper.
"This message was sent to the Emperor himself by the Great King of the High Elves of the North. They are under attack. Their forces of 10,000 strong are being overwhelmed by reports of up to 50,000 orcs. If it is true," he starts to pace around the table, "then it means that the orcs can build up armies comprised of legions again. We have not seen this level of behavior and organization since…" He clears his throat.
"…since when they first attacked us through the Gate of Alnus. The Emperor fears that there is something larger at play than attacking the elves. He believes it could serve as a distraction. However, due to the elves being our allies and good friends, I will be dispatching two of our ten legions to aid the High Elves. They came to our aid in the past, we will come to theirs now."
The room erupts into soft arguing and murmurs. Oppius gives them a minute to calm down before he leans over on the table.
"Commander Aurelius and Scato. You two will depart immediately to aid the elves. Make haste. I selected you because the majority of your forces are cavalry. Travel quickly, for the elves' lives depend on your swift resolve."
The commanders bow before they grab their helmets and leave.
"May the gods be with you in your journey, and may they give you strength in battle."
One Week Passes
The city was quieter. While some attributed it to 10,000 soldiers departing, the quiet was due to the nature of their departure. It had been decades since the armies of the Empire marched for a large war. They had been deployed for small insurrections and threats against peace. But, legions being deployed? The lands of the Saderan Empire have not seen this level of commitment to war since that of the orc invasion, and the Great Elven War.
It made the mood of the city full of gloom. Some were in good spirits, though. Many knew that it was a good thing that such a mighty force and honorable band of soldiers was traveling to aid the elves in the defense of their lands.
Cornicen Gallus Bestias was assigned to watch over the river docks under the command of Centurion Servius Mucianus. His job was to blow different horns to inform the guards at the water entrance if they needed to open or close the gates. He also had a special horn that was louder to signal the chief centurion of their company for important matters at the gate.
"Sir Bestias, any news from the water watch?" Mucianus says as he walks up the steps to the overwatch wall.
"Nothing at all, sir. A couple of fishing boats and a cargo sailer from Rondel. They were carrying materials to sharpen swords and enhance armor's strength."
"Very good. Keep your eyes upstream. We received a decree that there is a possible attack by orcs from the north."
"Of course sir. If I see anything, you and Captain Tuccianus shall know firsthand."
"Good, I will return by dusk to relieve you with your counterpart."
Bestias bows before he resumes his watch on the river. He wraps his hand around the satchel that was holding the horns under his stead. Before he can find a slightly comfortable standing position, he spots something.
"Sir Mucianus, you may want to see this."
Mucianus stops descending the stairs and returns to the top of the rampart. He squints to look up the river, where Bestias is pointing. There was a group of ships that were approaching, fast.
"Bestias, prepare to sound a defense. We need to be ready."
Bestias pulls out a horn with white paint and gold trimmings. It was a standard Imperial Army battle horn. Standard infantry would train to listen to different calls to prepare for different marches. As the guards of the harbor, the horn summoned the guards of the port to the walls. It was the first signal that warned any city of an attack. Something that Bestias hoped wasn't the case.
"Wait sir, look! They are the ships of the Glilrur Kingdom! I never thought I'd see the ships from the dwarven kingdoms ever again!"
"Indeed they are. Lower your guard and prepare to signal the opening of the harbor gates. Once you do so, summon Captain Tuccianus so that he may give the dwarves a proper welcome into the city."
Bestias reaches down and brings up the horn. He blows into the horn. The gates of the harbor underneath them open and the water stirs around the iron bars. It was going to be a great day to bring some good news to the city. Bestias puts away the horn for the gate and pulls out the horn to summon the chief centurion. However, before he blows into it, he notices something.
"Sir, is something wrong with their ships?"
"What do you mean?"
"They are not slowing down to enter the harbor safely. It is as if they are trying to get inside before…"
"Before the gates could close! Sound the horn to close the gates, they aren't dwa…" Chock
Bestias looks at Mucianus to see an arrow embedded into his neck. His eyes widen in horror as he watches the man fall over the edge of the rampart to the harbor waters below. Without hesitating, he goes to blow the horn. Chock
The wind rushes out of his chest as an arrow pierces through his back. He struggles to blow into the horn before he collapses. His head hangs over the edge of the gates to the harbor. He sees the first "dwarven" ship start to pass under, and he sees that the deck is full of orcs. The guards that were at the gates met the same fate of being silenced before anyone could be warned.
"I… I must warn…the city!"
Bestias reaches into his satchel and pulls out the white horn with gold trimming. He summons his remaining strength and blows hard into the horn, letting out the eerie bellow that was to be known in legends as the Bellow of Telta's Harbor. Bestias lets the horn fall to the ground as his final breath escapes him. He sheds a tear as he watches several ships spill into the harbor, orc crews ready to kill the now-readying soldiers guarding the city.
Fwooooom
Tuccianus is brought from signing off on a travel document to the sound he wished he would never have to hear.
"Captain! The harbor is under attack! Orcs have penetrated the river gates!"
"Call the guard to arms! We must repel the invaders. Go!"
Tuccianus quickly makes his way to the dock master's observation area. What he saw at first confused him, but then he soon realized what was going on. The orc forces from the north had commandeered the dwarves' ships and used them to open the gates.
"To arms! To arms! We will send these beasts back to the cesspools of hell!"
Many guards and soldiers rush by, grabbing spears, shields, and bows as they rush to the docks. Tuccianus draws his sword and starts to run with the soldiers.
At the docks, many civilians flee as arrows are released from the ships. Most find their marks and dozens of innocents are slaughtered. The soldiers begin to form lines and fire arrows of their own onto the ships. It is useless. The ships continue at their full speed into the harbor and collide into the docks. Debris, boat rigging and parts, and fisherman's catches are thrown at the soldiers who had formed up.
As the soldiers reel from the impact, orcs jump off the ships and attack the soldiers caught off balance. A slaughter begins to unfold. Orcs and men are slashed, beaten, and torn as the two sides clash for control of the docks.
Tuccianus watches as his men gallantly hold the line, but is disappointed to see more ships pull into the harbor.
"We must warn the rest of the city! You! Go to the harbor tower bell and cut the ropes that will release the warning bells!"
"Yes sir!"
The soldier runs in the opposite direction and disappears down a passageway. Tuccianus runs to the lines that were formed and orders a charge on the dismounting orcs.
"Charge!"
Loud cries of anger are heard from the soldiers as they break the defensive line and start rushing the orcs. This catches the orcs by surprise, and the plan initially works. Tuccianus swings his sword at the orcs as they disembark.
Swoosh
His sword glides through the air before it cuts the head of an orc clean off. He continues to do so. Before long, the sound of bells is heard.
DONG
DONG
DONG
Tuccianus rallies his men, and they continue to fight, even as more and more ships continue to disembark in the city. Little did they know that their calls for reinforcements would not be answered in full, as the northern part of Telta was also under attack by thousands of orcs.
Early Autumn, Year 687, Second age
Present Day
"I remember like it was yesterday, Godasen. Over 100,000 orcs marched on the city's north side. They besieged only that half and constantly attacked our men. It has been going on for six years now. Six miserable years. The once beautiful city of Telta now lies in ruin. We only hold half the city from these foul beasts. They only took half because their damned incursion into the harbor cut our forces in two."
"You should not blame yourself, Lord Oppius. You tried to warn everyone of the impending attack, and it now shines upon them like a hot coal in the dark. While the orcs outnumber us, they are not as strong-willed and minded as we are. Especially with you as our leader. You understand how to fight these demons, and you understand how to keep the Empire safe."
"I thank you, for keeping my hopes and spirits up, Godasen. I am glad you journeyed here with the reinforcements the army sent. It is refreshing to hear of the world outside this dark place."
Godasen looks out of the observation tower. He sees the large camps and formations of orcs on the northern side of the city. He can also see the points in the first outer walls that were smashed during the first week of the battle, six years ago. It was a disturbing sight to see the toughest stone shattered like a glass goblet.
"I also bring other news to you, Oppius. Something that troubles many but also brings hope to others."
"What is it?"
"The Imperial mages at the capital are saying that the Gate is to open again soon."
Oppius stands and walks over to the stone railing of the overlook. He lets out a sigh.
"I just hope that whatever comes out of the Gate, will be more inclined to help us than slaughter us like these demons that curse the lands of the Empire."
"I hope so too, sir. I hope so, too."
June 1956 A.D.
Eastern Europe
"Target, T-54, 1 O'clock, Range 2,000 Meters."
"Target identified, enemy tank."
"Load armor piercing, standby to fire."
The tank's mechanics whine as the turret swings slightly to the right to aim at the Soviet tank. The sound of the shell being loaded into the main gun echos in the crew's ears. The gunner, Corporal Chris Miller, nervously lines up his crosshair on target. Everyone in the tank was feeling the pressure of what was about to go down. Their tank was one of hundreds along a defensive line along the border of West Germany and East Germany. The USSR and NATO were going to war.
After a long list of events leading up to this year, the Soviets overran West Berlin and all communication there was lost. The rest of NATO flooded to the Iron Curtain to bolster up defenses, and were prepared for what the soviets were going to throw at them.
Sergeant Ian McLain, the tank commander, wipes away sweat from his brow as he looks through the rangefinder at the enemy tank. They were in a concealed position with the rest of the tank battalion, tasked with defending the border at all costs. Their tank, an M57 heavy tank, was capable of firing a 120 mm round every six seconds. Their tank was one of five in the platoon, which meant that all the tanks were capable of destroying 20 tanks in less than a minute. They were expecting way more.
"Sir, the next round has been loaded." Specialist 2nd Class Henry Clarence, says.
Their tank was standard equipped with an autoloader with an 8 round cylinder. Once that cylinder ran out, the tank was pretty much a sitting duck. Clarence's job is to move the spare ammunition stored next to the driver and place it into one of the open slots in the ammunition cylinder. It took a long time to do so, but to keep the beast fed, it had to be done.
"Sir, do we have permission to fire?"
"Standby for now, Miller. Our orders are to observe the first spotted enemy and wait until there are more, or until our target reaches 1,000 meters away."
"Roger, what's the range now?"
Ian adjusts the coincidence rangefinder to get the range of the T-44. The image in his scope gets clear and he gets the new range. At the same time, an electric drive adjusts the elevation to match.
"Target is now 1,400 meters away."
Chris looks through his main sight and adjusts the turret to match the direction the Soviet tank was moving.
"When the target is in range, fire."
"Roger that."
Ian closes his hatch and takes up position for the engagement. He was ready to look for other Soviet tanks that were potentially hiding behind the T-54. He adjusts the rangefinder once more and lets out a sigh.
"Fire!"
"On the way!"
BANG
The crew is jolted backwards from the massive amount of recoil. Chris watches through his scope at the tracer on the back of the shell. A second later, he watches as the shell impacts into the front hull of the tank and lets off a shower of sparks. The tank slows to a halt and flames start to erupt out of any and all openings.
"Target destroyed, load armor piercing, standby for target acquisition."
Ian opens his hatch and looks through his binoculars. Chris simultaneously moves the turret around slightly to see if he could spot anything through his sight.
TARANG WHOM WHOM WHOM
Chris flinches and grabs the sides of his helmet to press in his ear protection. The sound of a round hitting their tank and ricocheting off stunned everyone in the tank for a second or two.
"Target, 12 O' clock, range 2,000," Ian shouts.
Chris brings the gun around and centers the crosshair on the target.
"Target identified!"
"Fire!"
As Chris pulls the trigger, he sees the muzzle flash of the tank they were shooting at. He braces for the impending impact.
BANG
TARANG
"Ahhhhh!"
Chris grabs for his shoulder after he feels a piece of hot liquid copper from the enemy's HEAT round go through his uniform and skin. He looks back through his scope and sees that the Soviet tank is on fire and no longer a threat.
"Sergeant, we've been hit. Sergeant?"
Chris turns around, and his face turns pale. Where Sergeant McLain was, was now a bleeding corpse. A hole in the center of his chest from the jet of copper was spewing out blood, and several other holes across his body and face from spall shrapnel were also causing blood to ooze out.
"Driver, reverse, reverse!" Chris shouts into the intercom before getting out of his seat. He climbs back to see if McLain was still possibly alive. He checks for a pulse, but gets nothing.
CRACK
Chris is thrown back after the tank spins to a halt. He climbs up to the commander's hatch and looks outside. They had thrown their track and now were sitting ducks. Chris grabs the radio.
"Red-1, this is Red-4, over."
"This is Red-1, go ahead Red-4"
"Sir, our tank is disabled and Sergeant McLain is dead. We are sitting ducks out here!"
"Abandon the tank. Set a thermite charge in the breach and on the ammo and get the hell out of there."
"Roger that." He switches the radio off and goes into one of the storage boxes for the thermite charges.
"Abandon the tank! We are gonna get blasted out here like this. Go!"
Clarence informs the driver and climbs out of his hatch. Chris pulls out the thermite grenades and gets them ready. He manually unloads the main gun and sets the grenade in the breach. He pulls the pin on his second grenade and sets it on the ammunition. Before leaving, he grabs the body of McLain and climbs out of the tank.
Chris picks up McLain off the ground and starts to move back to their staging area.
KABLAM
Chris turns back and watches as their tank explodes and the turret flies into the air. It lands on the ground with a loud thud. Chris turns back and continues to move on.
"I hope we make it out of this war alive."
Present Day
"Hooray!"
Large crowds cheer and shower soldiers in ticker-tape and flowers. It was one of the greatest parades New York City had seen since World War II.
After surviving the battlefields of Western and Eastern Europe, Chris was now participating in one last action before he could finally have a break from the Army. His tank, now an M54 medium tank, had been repaired and repainted before it was put in the parade.
"Hey sergeant, it sure is good to be back."
Chris looks over at his loader, Specialist 4 Mark Wright.
"It sure is. I just can't wait to get back to my hometown, so I can see my family and finish college."
"What were you in for?"
"I was in engineering and ROTC. I was going to commission as an officer, but the government decided that I was good enough to be drafted in as a corporal."
"Damn, sounds like a tough spot."
"Yeah."
They wave out at the crowds and brush off the ticker-tape as it rains down from the skyscrapers. Chris gives a small grin before he stares back off into the distance.
"You still thinking on becoming an officer?"
Chris turns back to Wright from his thoughts.
"I don't know. Right now, I just wanna go home and see my mother and father, and enjoy a nice home cooked meal."
"Mmm boy, sure sounds good. Before you go, wanna hit up one of those new diners? I hear they've got some pretty broads as waitresses."
"Sure, why not? Though, you can enjoy the women. I already have a girl back home waiting for me."
"Neato sergeant. I wish you a speedy train ride home to see 'er."
"Thanks Wright. But first, we have to survive being buried alive by all this parade garbage."
"I just hope after surviving this, we don't have to survive another war."
Chris frowns and nods his head.
"Me too kid, me too."
Author's Note:
Thanks again for tuning in to this chapter of World's of Chaos, and I hope to see you for the next one. Thanks, and have a good one.