Post by AegisFate on Jul 21, 2014 7:43:48 GMT
Prologue:
He scanned across the field, shoulder to shoulder with a thousand other men, their spears held upright in an organized form, large shields crudely painted with a crimson slash. The hill they stood on was losing its green, the crisp autumn air heralding another brutal winter. This would be the last battle of the year, he thought, waiting for orders to come, shivering slightly as a cold wind blew through. He looked to his right, a short man shivering as well, his wiry frame at odds with the muscled majority that consisted of the army arrayed outside. “Damned cold, ain't it out here?” he remarked to his comrade, shifting slightly to keep himself warm.
“Bleedin' fall damned cold 'deed. Should be 'scapin' local keepers and sleepin' with women,” he responded, a quiet chuckle rising amongst those around him. “Where the bleedin' 'ell are those bastards anyways? I 'ought we was gettin' into an 'onest fight.” His tension was the same as the rest, a couple hours standing in formation, waiting for an enemy that wasn't coming, the sun lazily peeking out behind a couple clouds. “Rat bastard's 'hould come out and 'et some violence, eh?” He chuckled, a brief bit of humor flowing through the lines as a man shouted further down, the tension drawing to a halt as a banner appeared at the horizon.
“Took them long enough. Was going to end up stabbing the ground to pass the time,” a man noted behind him, his spear no longer idly spinning and held firmly. “Why they need so many of us anyways? I hear we've got twenty thousand to put down three. Does not sound for confidence on the part of the King I think.”
“Will you stop yer silly philo-sophy and get ready to stab some bastards? I want to go whoring out some time in the next night,” another remarked. “Besides, its a show of force isn't it? Why shouldn't we give 'em all we got for king and cou-” He was cut off, a monstrous roar in the distance, a black shape taking flight, briefly blotting out the sun as it ascended. Suddenly, it stopped at the apex of its flight, a long neck looking down to the arrayed host of men before beginning a meteoric descent.
“Dragon!” someone yelled out, silenced almost immediately after as it landed amongst the throng, fire bleeding out from its maw in great gouts, claws rending men in two without a consideration for their shields or armor. He felt it swipe close, turning to flee, a backswing from the beast's hand catching him in the back, pain erupting across it.
He awoke with a start, body covered in sweat, the scars across his back burning with some ethereal essence, his hand moving up to his face to cover it. A form shifted at his side, a woman sighing, her voice soft and groggy. “Another nightmare?” She sat up, her hand running across the scars on his back, the other keeping some semblance of modesty.
“Just a memory,” he murmured, the burning subsiding slowly.
He scanned across the field, shoulder to shoulder with a thousand other men, their spears held upright in an organized form, large shields crudely painted with a crimson slash. The hill they stood on was losing its green, the crisp autumn air heralding another brutal winter. This would be the last battle of the year, he thought, waiting for orders to come, shivering slightly as a cold wind blew through. He looked to his right, a short man shivering as well, his wiry frame at odds with the muscled majority that consisted of the army arrayed outside. “Damned cold, ain't it out here?” he remarked to his comrade, shifting slightly to keep himself warm.
“Bleedin' fall damned cold 'deed. Should be 'scapin' local keepers and sleepin' with women,” he responded, a quiet chuckle rising amongst those around him. “Where the bleedin' 'ell are those bastards anyways? I 'ought we was gettin' into an 'onest fight.” His tension was the same as the rest, a couple hours standing in formation, waiting for an enemy that wasn't coming, the sun lazily peeking out behind a couple clouds. “Rat bastard's 'hould come out and 'et some violence, eh?” He chuckled, a brief bit of humor flowing through the lines as a man shouted further down, the tension drawing to a halt as a banner appeared at the horizon.
“Took them long enough. Was going to end up stabbing the ground to pass the time,” a man noted behind him, his spear no longer idly spinning and held firmly. “Why they need so many of us anyways? I hear we've got twenty thousand to put down three. Does not sound for confidence on the part of the King I think.”
“Will you stop yer silly philo-sophy and get ready to stab some bastards? I want to go whoring out some time in the next night,” another remarked. “Besides, its a show of force isn't it? Why shouldn't we give 'em all we got for king and cou-” He was cut off, a monstrous roar in the distance, a black shape taking flight, briefly blotting out the sun as it ascended. Suddenly, it stopped at the apex of its flight, a long neck looking down to the arrayed host of men before beginning a meteoric descent.
“Dragon!” someone yelled out, silenced almost immediately after as it landed amongst the throng, fire bleeding out from its maw in great gouts, claws rending men in two without a consideration for their shields or armor. He felt it swipe close, turning to flee, a backswing from the beast's hand catching him in the back, pain erupting across it.
He awoke with a start, body covered in sweat, the scars across his back burning with some ethereal essence, his hand moving up to his face to cover it. A form shifted at his side, a woman sighing, her voice soft and groggy. “Another nightmare?” She sat up, her hand running across the scars on his back, the other keeping some semblance of modesty.
“Just a memory,” he murmured, the burning subsiding slowly.