Broken rays of light struggle to fight through wafting
clouds of smoke, as a soft roll of thunder seems to echo from every side of a
massive battlefield. Tense exclamations are quickly muted as nearly a hundred
soldiers crouch close to the earth and frantically peer around to try to make
sense of the blurred images contorting in the smoke. Thousands of acres of
burnt grasslands spread out all around the soldiers and the smoke seems intent
on blotting out the very sun in the sky. Hasty signals are passed from soldier
to soldier as they can’t see more than 3 feet ahead of them. A brown garbed
sergeant desperately tries to form a defensive formation against the foe he
knows must surround them by now.
Barely over a hundred feet away, steely gray eyes remain
locked on the urgent motions of the sergeant and his company. Unfazed by the
smoke and acrid burning smell, Captain Maulkin studies his target with serious
contemplation. So still is the Captain that even the great destrier beneath him
refuses to move, allowing the carrion flies buzzing in clouds to land on its
body without complaint. After a few minutes of study, the Captain moves his
large gauntleted hand in a small circle and from his right comes a soft trill,
nearly birdlike in its quality. As that call elongates and drifts upon the wind
something stirs across the field, suddenly forming itself into a crashing and
twisting shadow army racing through the smoke. Hoarse calls and yells ring upon
the air and all of the brown clad soldiers tense into a sudden formation and
attempt to form a shield wall. The thunder of hooves echo prominently in the
ears of all around, the dense clouds of smoke making it sound as if it was
coming from right on top of any person that could hear it.
With elegant grace the Captain swings down from his mount to
close his eyes and lean his head back to the sky. Soot drifts down from above
to smear his beard gray, but still he waits and listens to the chaos erupting
around him. Ahead of him the unaware soldiers react to the crashing sound of a
Calvary charge nearly upon them; some break and run to disappear into the haze,
others are more disciplined and follow the sergeant’s bellows to form tight
ranks and present weapons front, others seem immobilized by fear which directly
counters those blood thirsty few who can’t bear the wait for combat and scream
their challenges into the smoky blanket. At what seems the very last moment on
this earth, the charging hooves carve a beat directly into the veins of every
soldier present and then suddenly the sound is gone. A hesitant pause silences
nearly every noise from the company of men, as they gape in surprise at the
sudden reprieve. One heartbeat lingers, then two, and with that the Captain
snaps his arms up into a commanding gesture.
The puzzled soldiers have just begun to relax, most standing
and staring around in bewilderment as they try to discover what happened and if
they were actually under attack or just hearing echoes from much further away.
The sergeant is just about to bark an order to present an orderly front and
stay alert when he happens to see just a glint of light flashing off the helmet
of one of his men. Turning to face behind him, he is shocked to his core at the
sight presented before him. Striding confidently towards him comes a ghostly apparition,
heavy boots crunching down into still smoldering grass and empty arms stretched
outwards towards the sky. Smoke drifts up from the scorched earth and gently
embraces the ornate green armor in a fitting caress as the world around the
sergeant explodes into fury and death.
No emotion mars the pristine visage of the Captain as he
glides forward towards his dying enemies. Thick wooden shafts whistle down from
the sky to embed themselves in relaxing soldiers, one man manages to lift his
shield in time to catch an arrow right in front of his face but the very next
moment he is skewered from behind as a fellow soldier reacts poorly to a shaft
buried in his throat. With two more strides, the Captain has nearly reached the
enemy forces and he once against closes his eyes to savor the moment as his
troops continue to rain destruction down in front of him.
Frantically shouting
orders, the horrified sergeant tries to protect his men. It seems to be working
for a brief instant, as order is returned and shields begin stopping the
onslaught of arrows. Turning to face the warrior striding confidently into his
midst, the sergeant begins to think they might have a chance. With a terrible
rending sound, a massive boulder erases hope as it collides into the tightly
packed formation and smashes armor, bones, blood, and tissue into a solid meaty
paste. Another boulder thuds in with a
sickly crunching sound, and then the sky is filled with them. Dazed and
bloodied, the soldiers try to find shelter or escape reality but there is no
relenting from the arrows carving lines of pain and death complimented by the
totality of a thudding boulder.
Sinking to his knees, the sergeant is aghast at the loss of
his entire company so quickly. Just a year ago, nobody would have thought of
challenging the Dalison House. Respected for being the first Royal House, their
reputation had slipped a bit but enough people still feared them that they went
basically unchallenged. Now they were dying, and too fast to count. Who did
this to them, to him? Almost as if taunting the sergeant, the barrage of
boulders and the hail of arrows peters out to leave a field empty except for
smoke and blood. Twisting slowly from his kneeling position to gaze around him,
tears freely fall as the sergeant realizes that not a single man was left
alive. Despair rips all reasoning or action from his grasp and he dumbly
watches thick metal boots stride through the remains of his men until they stop
right in front of him. “No more will you disgrace this world, you have proven yourself
weak and unworthy of life” comes a gravelly pronouncement out of the haze and
then light ripples along a blade and the sergeant cares no more.
A few moments pass, with just the Captain standing near the
headless body and gazing upon the ruined remains of the Dalison soldiers. Then
other figures begin to materialize from the smoky surroundings and approach the
silent captain. The first to arrive reaches out a gloved hand to give the
Captain a small cloth which he uses to clean his blade silently. “Captain, we
still have reports of three other bands of soldiers still nearby. Two from
House Rodhale and it looks like one from House Obelyn.” Looking at the speaker,
one of his closest aides, the Captain responds “Are we sure they are two
different Houses? House Rodhale and Obelyn both wear blue that can be confused
in this environment and lack of visibility.” Nodding his assurance, the aide
continues “Aye, Captain. The scout actually heard one of the troop ask where
Lady Obelyn was supposed to meet them. He was promptly cussed out by a fellow
in the troop, but that makes the scout confident they are actually from House
Obelyn.”
Pondering his next move, Captain Maulkin signals into the
smoke and a few flashes of light wink back at him. Turning to the rest of his
aides as they gather around him, he takes a look at the map attached to the
back of one of his men. “Okay, the Dalisons are pretty much broken. They still
fight and think they hold this ground, but we have holes and entry points
everywhere. We know this ground much better than they do, which makes me think
they didn’t plan this massive fire which gave us such great opportunity.” A
snort interrupts him briefly, causing a pursing of his lips to which his men
suddenly straighten and become deadly serious and intent upon his words. “We
don’t have much to fear from the Rodhale troops, while the House has a
reputation for being all about combat they are really just glory hounds and
better suited to the tournaments. In a real fight, they are clueless babes.
Plus most of their best men are still in Corvale toadying up to the useless
King.”
As various heads nod in agreement with this assessment, the
Captain gives his orders “We must teach the Obelyn House that they are no
longer the second most important House in the Kingdom. They already have plans
upon the throne, and think they will take advantage of this chaos to position
themselves and take what they already believe is theirs. I can see their
thought, since they have so carefully positioned themselves over the past two
decades. But our Lords have different plans, and this is our first time to show
them a glimpse of the new order.” Looking around at his aides, the Captain
waits until each of his dusty and tired men make eye contact. “We must do this
subtly and completely. We are not yet ready to show our true plans or goals.
Most of the Houses think we just want this country side, and do not realize the
strength of our ambition. With our brethren in House Seymore, we will show them
the errors of their ways but not just yet.” A pause here, for effect. “We will
wipe this Obelyn company off our God’s earth, and then plant the bodies of the
Dalisons at the scene so that when the Duchess finally does arrive to meet her
troops she will have to take action against someone other than ourselves.”
As his men break apart to start giving orders and signals to
the massed troops hiding in strategic places across the ruined battlefield, the
Captain gives himself a small brief moment of emotion. A twisted smile pulls at
his downturned lips for the briefest moments as he contemplates the future. “This
is OUR Kingdom, they just don’t know it yet.”
