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 Post subject: Faith.
PostPosted: Nov 21st, '10, 17:36 
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Some thirty years ago. . .

The first Nherazkar warrior who made it in to the shattered manse was a massive brute, even bigger than the late, lamented Private Wiseman. He came through a gap in the east wall that Wiseman had, until a moment before, been defending.

The enemy warrior was clad in heavy chainmail battledress coloured a dark, patchy black, with steel boots and iron armour plating strapped around his thighs, shoulders and belly. His face, under the grey steel helmet, was visored by a black metal mask, an iron grotesque shaped in to a snarling, hook nosed, feral face.
His hands, thick with scars, clutched a crossbow, and a wickedly sharp curved blade.

Wiseman lay dead on his face in the gap where a blow from the blade had dropped him. The Nherazkar Warrior howled out an obsceme warcry and ploughed in to the manse, firing his crossbow wildly. There where others behind him.

Captain Remmington met him head on. His scything, divinely energised blade, the power of Domorus coursing through it, sung sweetly in the air as it deflected two of the Nherazkar warrior's crossbow bolts up in to the blackened roof.
Then he bought it sidelong and the murderous blade-along with several scarred fingers, spun in to the air in a puff of blood. Borne forward by his own momentum, Lucas slammed the buisness end of his own crossbow in to the howling grotesque, and fired.
The brute, his head demolished, crashed backwards.

Privates Riley and Sanders jumped forward beside him, shooting point blank with their crossbows and bringing their swords to bear. Sanders was yelling something.

It wasn't the only breach. The manse Reverberated with the clash of hand to hand combat as Nherazkar storm squads burst in through windows, doorways and holes, driving the Solinar men backwards in to the ruins.
It was a killing frenzy, the malevolent, red hot heart of pure war.
The smoke filled room, murky and fire lit like hell, was thick with screams, blows, straying arrows and thrashing figures. They were enveloped in chaos.

Lucas's crossbow quiver was spent.
There were spare bolts in his pack, but absoloutely no chance of reaching them in the turmoil.
He let it go and swung his blade, plunging it in to the neck of the nearest enemy soldier.
Blood soaked his armour, and his cloak so much the cloth wrapped heavily around him.
He realised he was screaming wordless sounds of rage at the enemy.

They stank They brought their abattoir reek with them, foul breath, sour sweat, dried blood and the noxious aroma of oils and paints with which they anointed their bodies.

The sword of Domorus split a black-iron helm in two. Blood sizzled off the divinely charged blade.
Lucas's dagger hacked in to a throat, something knocked his helmet off. A Nherazkar trooper crashed sideways in to him, but he was already dead.
Then a crossbow bolt clipped the top of Lucas's left shoulder and sent him sprawling to the ground.

He put his divine blade through the armoured belly in front of him and was flattened as the severed body toppled forward on to him.
Riley had lost his sword. He snatched up a fallen curved blade and slammed it with both hands in to the nearest enemy face, then leapt forward and grabbed Remmington by the shoulders

"Get back! Sir, get back!" He yelled in to Lucas's face. The Captain didn't even seem to recognise him.
He was dripping with gore. "Sir, we have to get back! Riley repeated, his throat raw from the smoke.
Captain Remmington shoved him out of the way, and butchered another Nherazkar trooper brutally.
His divine blade cut him in two and cracked stone chips out of the pillar beside him.

An explosion knocked the all off their feet.
Masonry rubble rained down from the roof, and the end wall of the manse fell like a stack of child's play-bricks.
Cold air washed in, thick with the smell of shit, and contorted with the dense smoke around them in to weird eddies and gusting coils.

Sword still clamped in one blood smeared hand, Lucas grabbed Riley by the arm and dragged him towards the caved section of wall.
Sanders and Watkins followed them, backing their way, slashing and hacking as they went.
There was no sign of any other members of Remmington's unit, just dark black figures scrambling through the smoke at their heels.

The men fell down the mound of rubble in to the open, crossbow shots whizzed out of the manse after them.
They were in the wide concourse of Si'katan Square itself.
The whole area was on fire.
Buildings, reduced to hollow shells by the firestorm spurting flames, and sparks from their blind windows.
Five supply carts, Solinar Army, were burning where they had overturned.
Bodies littered the ground, half covered by the ash falling like snow from the boiling smoke.
The heat was so fierce it felt like a Kallahan summer.

There was no way of telling where anything or anyone was, it was as if they had washed up in the middle of the apocalypse.

Lucas recovered his wits enough for his hands to start to tremble, his ehart banging like crazy.
Limping from a wound he couldn't remember recieving, he hurried the other three across the twenty meters of open square to the nearest cover.
It was a burnt out Solinar troop carrying cart.
They cowered down, surveying the nightmare surrounding them.

"Second Lancers, to me, to me! Second Lancers!" Lucas cried, and then realized the lack of response was because everyone else was either dead, or long gone.

He looked at the other three, all of them were covered in blood and multiple minor wounds..

Then, the Warlord woke up. He'd been dreaming about past battles again.


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 Post subject: Re: Faith.
PostPosted: Nov 22nd, '10, 13:13 
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 Post subject: Re: Faith.
PostPosted: Nov 23rd, '10, 06:33 
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Joined: Apr 12th, '10, 18:49
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Location: North Bay, ON
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