12
« on: November 03, 2008, 01:34:08 am »
Ch 2: Warrior
The march around the hills surrounding the Kru’Lok garrison had been long and physically exhausting. The Kru’Lok were constantly attacking any remotely isolated settlement that they could reach, making contracts on them quite common for the Legion. They were generally considered savages by most civilized cultures and the reputation was well deserved.
The Kru’Lok preferred axes and pole arms in combat, as well as some bows inferior to most used by those who opposed them. Their armor was usually that of crude plate mail or simple leather, as most of their equipment was either looted or crafted by their own smiths, who were often warriors who were just too old to fight. In order to be too old to fight in Kru’Lok culture however, was to be unable to lift an axe any longer, so the decrepit old men rarely turned out anything of quality.
Jangeol and those who had been selected for guarding the rear of the encampment were not equipped much better. Most were older soldiers, ones who had allowed their armor and weapons to fall into ill repair, though there were a few exceptions. There were also a number of them who were Jangeol’s age, most weilding handy down weapons from their fathers and armor that hardly fit. While the leather armor Jangeol wore was not of high quality, at least it fit. Raelath had also been kind enough to give him a long sword in decent condition, which he currently admired with almost boyish enthusiasm.
Having reached their destination most of the older men, realizing that is was unlikely for them to have any involvement in the fight, had sat down or gone to sleep. Most of the younger men, however, watched the garrison closely just hoping they would have a chance to engage in battle. As they watched the platoon tasked with the assault became visible. Their march halted as they came into range for the archers to fire. Raelath was below, bellowing orders at the archers to draw, as they did the Kru’Lok were still scrambling to assemble into a formation. The battle would be a quick one, thought Jangeol, feeling a bit disappointed.
Just as the Kru’Lok garrison seemed to have prepared itself the Red Wolf arrows filled the skies, pelting the savages. The Kru’Lok eventually scrambled into a disorganized charge at the Red Wolf front lines, all the while being bombarded by arrows. The survivors crashed against the Red Wolf front lines, falling as soon as they were within striking distance. The young men seemed to let out a collective sigh as the battle came to a close. Some of the men below cheered at their overwhelming victory while Raelath continued to below orders, organizing a scouting party to search the garrison.
The old men seemed to instinctively know it was time to go, and awoke. They slowly picked up their gear and began to walk back without so much as a word; the young ones fell in behind them, all a bit more gloomy than before. Jangeol was one of the last to go, wanting to linger a bit longer. He wondered why it was that they were taking the same path back, reluctant to walk the mountainous terrain yet again when the valley below was clear. He decided it was not his place to say anything though, it wasn’t that important anyways.
The walk was arduous as expected and most of the men walked with their heads down, many had unbuckled their armor, and some just taken it off and thrown it in their packs. Jangeol had left his armor on, seeing the others as lazy but had not found the confidence to comment on the others. He walked towards the rear of the formation still, he looked around occasionally, but his morale was no higher than those around him.
As they approached a rock outcropping Jangeol scanned the area once more, not really looking at anything in particular. Jangeol’s head suddenly snapped to his right, did he see something? He thought he did. Did anybody else see it? Not likely. Was there a noise? He wasn’t sure. He focused on where his eyes had took him, a rock lay there, was it out of place? He wasn’t sure. As his brow furrowed in thought a roar traveled across the formation, which suddenly looked up to see a volley of arrows. One struck Jangeol in the left shoulder and he fell to a knee, from the brush that surrounded the path Kru’Lok soldiers seemed to materialize, the appeared to be half man half plant. Camoflauge, he thought as he rose from his knee and drew his blade.
As the cries of the wounded rose up, another volley flew towards their formation. Jangeol began to run at the Kru’Lok soldiers, along with some of his fellow men. The second volley had left many more wounded, some dead. Jangeol let lose a noise that one could only call a snarl as he closed on his first victim, slashing wildly and cutting through the abdomen of a fairly confused looking Kru’Lok.
He turned to catch another running towards him with a back slash, but was blocked by the brute’s battle axe. Jangeol growled as he stepped into a sharp kick to the Kru’Lok’s knee, which bent back with a sickening crack. He then thrust his sword through the man’s neck, blood spraying out as he pulled his blade back which spattered his clothing and face.
He then scanned the area, seeing his fellow mercenaries standing over corpses of their own his heart rate began to fall, the adrenaline leaving his body. He then turned back to the path, seeing that many of his brothers in arms lying dead or severely injured. Then turning to his right he saw a young man about his age grinning at him
“You fight well,” he said
Jangeol simply shrugged, looking down at the dead Kru’Lok at the other man’s feet, “Looks like ye didn’t do too bad yerself.”
Jangeol looked back at the path and began walking down that way to see what he could do for the wounded. He knew, however, that the only thing he really could do was try to carry them back and hope they didn’t bleed out on the way.
Show Posts
