unfortunatly.your.stories.cant.fix.this.crappy.school.keyboard.with.the.broken.space.bar.and.shift.key.
Gunpowder Knight
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Guessmyname
- Posts: 3301
- Joined: 28 Apr 2005, 21:07
He's got a beard 
And thanks to Guessmyname for the proofreading. Anything wrong with this is his fault.
Just kidding.
####
Today was the day. Today was the day that all of this hellish work paid off.
Supposedly. Alex stood in his dress uniform and looked at himself in the mirror. Tall, lean, much stronger than before. His hair was still dark, still cut in the severe way his father had imposed on him from day one, and he still had the hooked nose and green eyes of the Tervarthen line.
But...he had no more curves. It was all hard lines and straight edges. He no longer filled out his uniform the same way, less stress on the belly and more stress on the upper chest. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He stepped out from behind the mirror. Before he was even out of the tent, two pages ran in and grabbed the mirror, hustling it to the next person getting into uniform.
Alex stood in his dress uniform, in the middle of Camp 1, for about an hour before the rest of the graduating Knights would arrive. Once they were all ready, Alex wrangled them into marching order. It was easier then it had been a year ago.
Alex paused as the Knight stood at attention. It had already been year? He glanced into the sky and saw the second sun was in prominence.
Yes, it had been a year. He got into his place in the column. Sullivan nodded, having watched the whole thing. He nodded again, almost impercetably, to Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ôMove out!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted, turning on his heel and starting to march. Alex and the rest of the graduating Knights followed.
Pomp and circumstance followed. Alex was one of the first to get his medal pinned on his chest. A pretty Priestess pinned it on his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Alex smiled back nervously and kept moving, heading to the seats that were set beyond the stage. The families of the graduating Knights were there. Alex saw his father, mother and sister sitting there. Sis waved. Alex nodded back.
An hour later, and the cerimony was over. ├óÔé¼┼ôThese are our new heroes. And these are our new future.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sullivan said, his voice amplifed by a minor Source, a woman in a fire red cloak with her eyes covered by a orange cloth. The Source had a small ball of Ghost Light in her hand and was juggling it slowly, her face set.
After his speeach, Sullivan put his fist to his heart and bowed. ├óÔé¼┼ôThank you. Now, two weeks leave!├óÔé¼┬Ø
The knights cheered. Alex noticed the Source tossed the Ghost Light into the air and swallowed it as it fell back down. A bright blow lit the blindfold for a moment, then faded. Sullivan thanked the Source, who seemed to only half listen.
Then the Duke of Tervarthen stepped infront of him. ├óÔé¼┼ôAlex!├óÔé¼┬Ø He boomed, hugging Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am so proud of you.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex squeezed him back and the Duke squeaked. Alex grinned, enjoying that a bit too much. ├óÔé¼┼ôThank you, Father.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, managing to keep his face straight. Thanking his father was the last thing on his mind...but he had survived the Waste and the training. It struck him as a waste to throw it away by telling his father what he thought of him, the army and everything connected to it.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou got big,├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis said, grabbing Alex's arm and squeezing his mucles. Alex flexed his arms and pulled his arm up. Sis, who came up to his waist, giggled as she was lifted off the ground. She hung onto him for as long as she could, then slipped back to the ground. She hugged him and Alex patted her head.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes, he did.├óÔé¼┬Ø Mother said, hugging Alex last. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am proud of you too, Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThanks mom.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex said, grinning.
├óÔé¼┼ôWith our son on the front,├óÔé¼┬Ø The Duke said, his voice still booming. ├óÔé¼┼ôThose Silverbacks won't stand a chance.├óÔé¼┬Ø
###
Alex stepped off the caravan and looked around the Southlands. After the Wastes, he was sure that anything would be an improvement.
He was less sure now. The mountains were definitely pretty, snow capped and covered with evergreen forests. It was the land beyond the mountains that filled Alex with dread. Forests, endless forests, stretching off into the distance. Beyond the forest, said the veterans that Alex had managed to talk to, lay plains. Endless plains after endless forests, all of them filled with Silverbacks that hated the Empire with every fiber of their being.
Alex gulped, trying to imagine what walking across all that would be like. He got his first taste later that day as the regiment and several other regiments formed into a long column. They started to march, their backpacks jostling their backs and their rifles boucing against their shoulders. Soon, his feet hurt. More tree's passed them by, each starting to look the same. The soldiers around him, a few familiar faces from Camp 1, started to talk, softly.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat did you do before you signed up?├óÔé¼┬Ø A Knight who looked to be at least in his thirties. He might have been a non-noble born, which most of these knights were. They used to be called Squires, and would be a lesser rank than Knights...but war had changed and, thus, the Army had changed with it. Now, all who joined were Knights. Noblemen were much more likely to be promoted to officer ranking though, and got better tents, equipment, and treatment.
They also got drafted earlier and more often. So, there were downsides to being nobleborn that Alex had a good deal of familiarity with.
├óÔé¼┼ôI wanted to paint.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex said, looking the other man over. He had a stubbly beard and the same kind of hooked nose that a Tervarthen would. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut then, one day, my dad just said 'your going out.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The other soldier laughed. ├óÔé¼┼ôJonathan.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAlexander of Tervarthen.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNoble?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex sighed and shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôYep.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôFirst born?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSecond. Jordan got toarched by a dragon.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow did he manage that?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex opened his mouth to respond when-
├óÔé¼┼ôAMBUSH!├óÔé¼┬Ø
A huge wave of smoke and fire rose from the forest to the left of the muddy road. Explosions rocked the ground, and bullets zipped through the air. A soldier that had been infront of Alex fell over, most of his face missing. Jonathan tackled Alex. Another explosion rocked the ground, sending smoke and flames belching into the air. Bits of earth went flying along with bits of soldiers. Alex had lost his flint, and he searched frantically for it, or something else he could fight back with.
There! He grabbed a flint that was slicked with blood. Alex grabbed his cartrage and thanked the Gods that someone had improved the desgin. Used to be, to load a flint, you would bite the end of a cartige off and dump the gunpowder into the barrel, then drop a bullet in after it.
Now, it was much simpler. Open the back of the gun, the breach, slide in the cartrige. He pulled the string on the cartrige and the paper coveing came off, sliding out of the breach and leaving the powder and bullet sitting exactly in the right place. Alex slapped the breach closed, aimed at the woods were he could see fleeing Silverback figures, and fired.
A figure pitched forward and stopped moving.
├óÔé¼┼ôHa!├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex snarled, blood pounding in his veins. ├óÔé¼┼ôFrom firing lines! We can make them pay!├óÔé¼┬Ø
He slapped in another cartrige, yanked the cord, slid the breach closed, aimed. This time, his shot was in time with about ten other soldiers who had formed into a makeshift firing line.
More fleeing silverbacks toppled.
And then, the smoke faded, the smell of it thick in the air. He slowly lowered his flint, and saw Jonathan looking at him.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo...we survived.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan said, slowly.
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex gulped. ├óÔé¼┼ôY-yeah, we did.├óÔé¼┬Ø
A officer ran down the line. ├óÔé¼┼ôWho formed this line?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked, looking around the troops. Jonathan pointed at Alex.
├óÔé¼┼ôHere,├óÔé¼┬Ø The officer held a bloody emblam in his hand. ├óÔé¼┼ôCorpral Kevin was one of the many to die. Now, you are Knight Corpral Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex took the blood stained emblam. ├óÔé¼┼ôT-thank you sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou kept your head.├óÔé¼┬Ø The officer nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou took down some enemies. Why don't you ecsurzie your new athority and round up any enemy survivors.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes sir!├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex snapped a salute, smacking his first against his chest. ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...you, you and you.├óÔé¼┬Ø He points out three other knights in the area. ├óÔé¼┼ôPrisinor detail.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He and the three knights, which included Jonathan, moved into the woods off the road. Their flints were at the ready, loaded and primed.
They stooped by the first Silverback. He didn't wear a uniform, or at least not a uniform like the Imperals did. A white cloake wrapped around simple farmer's clothes. The only uniform thing Alex could see was an armband with the Silverback ingisnia, a stylized N with a R next to it, surrounded by a red ring and flanked by two bars of gold. He was also dead, and his flint looked crummy and poorly designed compaired to the Imperial flints.
├óÔé¼┼ôHoly Gods...├óÔé¼┬Ø A knight about ten feet to the side, standing in a cove of tree's. ├óÔé¼┼ôGuys...Corpral, come over here!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex, Jonathan and the other knights ran over. The silverback that the knight stood over was alive, shifting slightly as blood started to turn a part of his white cloak red. The silverback was on his front.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe's alive, patch him up and-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôUh...├óÔé¼┬Ø The knight, who was a youngish nobleman who didn't need to shave yet, nudged the downed silverback with his toe.
The silverback rolled onto his front...Alex blinked, then knelt down, gaping. Slim, much slimmer than any man, and with two mounds on her chest, longer hair-
├óÔé¼┼ôOh gods...it's a girl.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex said. The female Silverback groaned.
├óÔé¼┼ôCorpral, what should we do with her?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan asked, looking at Alex.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe-├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex started. The silverback opened one eye, stopped moaning, and pulled out a knife, throwing her cloak back. Alex noticed the wound was barely a graze.
Then he noticed the knife sliding into his gut.
├óÔé¼┼ôBitch!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan smashed out with the butt of his flint, catching the Silverback woman in the chin. She pitched back, even as Alex fell backwards. He hit the ground and felt the knife. It's hilt pressed into his belly, and his belly felt like a cold shaft was sticking through it, hot pain radiating out from that. Which, Alex supposed, was what being stabbed was supposed to feel like.
And thanks to Guessmyname for the proofreading. Anything wrong with this is his fault.
Just kidding.
####
Today was the day. Today was the day that all of this hellish work paid off.
Supposedly. Alex stood in his dress uniform and looked at himself in the mirror. Tall, lean, much stronger than before. His hair was still dark, still cut in the severe way his father had imposed on him from day one, and he still had the hooked nose and green eyes of the Tervarthen line.
But...he had no more curves. It was all hard lines and straight edges. He no longer filled out his uniform the same way, less stress on the belly and more stress on the upper chest. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He stepped out from behind the mirror. Before he was even out of the tent, two pages ran in and grabbed the mirror, hustling it to the next person getting into uniform.
Alex stood in his dress uniform, in the middle of Camp 1, for about an hour before the rest of the graduating Knights would arrive. Once they were all ready, Alex wrangled them into marching order. It was easier then it had been a year ago.
Alex paused as the Knight stood at attention. It had already been year? He glanced into the sky and saw the second sun was in prominence.
Yes, it had been a year. He got into his place in the column. Sullivan nodded, having watched the whole thing. He nodded again, almost impercetably, to Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ôMove out!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted, turning on his heel and starting to march. Alex and the rest of the graduating Knights followed.
Pomp and circumstance followed. Alex was one of the first to get his medal pinned on his chest. A pretty Priestess pinned it on his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Alex smiled back nervously and kept moving, heading to the seats that were set beyond the stage. The families of the graduating Knights were there. Alex saw his father, mother and sister sitting there. Sis waved. Alex nodded back.
An hour later, and the cerimony was over. ├óÔé¼┼ôThese are our new heroes. And these are our new future.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sullivan said, his voice amplifed by a minor Source, a woman in a fire red cloak with her eyes covered by a orange cloth. The Source had a small ball of Ghost Light in her hand and was juggling it slowly, her face set.
After his speeach, Sullivan put his fist to his heart and bowed. ├óÔé¼┼ôThank you. Now, two weeks leave!├óÔé¼┬Ø
The knights cheered. Alex noticed the Source tossed the Ghost Light into the air and swallowed it as it fell back down. A bright blow lit the blindfold for a moment, then faded. Sullivan thanked the Source, who seemed to only half listen.
Then the Duke of Tervarthen stepped infront of him. ├óÔé¼┼ôAlex!├óÔé¼┬Ø He boomed, hugging Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am so proud of you.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex squeezed him back and the Duke squeaked. Alex grinned, enjoying that a bit too much. ├óÔé¼┼ôThank you, Father.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, managing to keep his face straight. Thanking his father was the last thing on his mind...but he had survived the Waste and the training. It struck him as a waste to throw it away by telling his father what he thought of him, the army and everything connected to it.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou got big,├óÔé¼┬Ø Sis said, grabbing Alex's arm and squeezing his mucles. Alex flexed his arms and pulled his arm up. Sis, who came up to his waist, giggled as she was lifted off the ground. She hung onto him for as long as she could, then slipped back to the ground. She hugged him and Alex patted her head.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes, he did.├óÔé¼┬Ø Mother said, hugging Alex last. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am proud of you too, Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThanks mom.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex said, grinning.
├óÔé¼┼ôWith our son on the front,├óÔé¼┬Ø The Duke said, his voice still booming. ├óÔé¼┼ôThose Silverbacks won't stand a chance.├óÔé¼┬Ø
###
Alex stepped off the caravan and looked around the Southlands. After the Wastes, he was sure that anything would be an improvement.
He was less sure now. The mountains were definitely pretty, snow capped and covered with evergreen forests. It was the land beyond the mountains that filled Alex with dread. Forests, endless forests, stretching off into the distance. Beyond the forest, said the veterans that Alex had managed to talk to, lay plains. Endless plains after endless forests, all of them filled with Silverbacks that hated the Empire with every fiber of their being.
Alex gulped, trying to imagine what walking across all that would be like. He got his first taste later that day as the regiment and several other regiments formed into a long column. They started to march, their backpacks jostling their backs and their rifles boucing against their shoulders. Soon, his feet hurt. More tree's passed them by, each starting to look the same. The soldiers around him, a few familiar faces from Camp 1, started to talk, softly.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat did you do before you signed up?├óÔé¼┬Ø A Knight who looked to be at least in his thirties. He might have been a non-noble born, which most of these knights were. They used to be called Squires, and would be a lesser rank than Knights...but war had changed and, thus, the Army had changed with it. Now, all who joined were Knights. Noblemen were much more likely to be promoted to officer ranking though, and got better tents, equipment, and treatment.
They also got drafted earlier and more often. So, there were downsides to being nobleborn that Alex had a good deal of familiarity with.
├óÔé¼┼ôI wanted to paint.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex said, looking the other man over. He had a stubbly beard and the same kind of hooked nose that a Tervarthen would. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut then, one day, my dad just said 'your going out.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The other soldier laughed. ├óÔé¼┼ôJonathan.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAlexander of Tervarthen.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNoble?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex sighed and shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôYep.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jonathan nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôFirst born?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSecond. Jordan got toarched by a dragon.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow did he manage that?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex opened his mouth to respond when-
├óÔé¼┼ôAMBUSH!├óÔé¼┬Ø
A huge wave of smoke and fire rose from the forest to the left of the muddy road. Explosions rocked the ground, and bullets zipped through the air. A soldier that had been infront of Alex fell over, most of his face missing. Jonathan tackled Alex. Another explosion rocked the ground, sending smoke and flames belching into the air. Bits of earth went flying along with bits of soldiers. Alex had lost his flint, and he searched frantically for it, or something else he could fight back with.
There! He grabbed a flint that was slicked with blood. Alex grabbed his cartrage and thanked the Gods that someone had improved the desgin. Used to be, to load a flint, you would bite the end of a cartige off and dump the gunpowder into the barrel, then drop a bullet in after it.
Now, it was much simpler. Open the back of the gun, the breach, slide in the cartrige. He pulled the string on the cartrige and the paper coveing came off, sliding out of the breach and leaving the powder and bullet sitting exactly in the right place. Alex slapped the breach closed, aimed at the woods were he could see fleeing Silverback figures, and fired.
A figure pitched forward and stopped moving.
├óÔé¼┼ôHa!├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex snarled, blood pounding in his veins. ├óÔé¼┼ôFrom firing lines! We can make them pay!├óÔé¼┬Ø
He slapped in another cartrige, yanked the cord, slid the breach closed, aimed. This time, his shot was in time with about ten other soldiers who had formed into a makeshift firing line.
More fleeing silverbacks toppled.
And then, the smoke faded, the smell of it thick in the air. He slowly lowered his flint, and saw Jonathan looking at him.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo...we survived.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan said, slowly.
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex gulped. ├óÔé¼┼ôY-yeah, we did.├óÔé¼┬Ø
A officer ran down the line. ├óÔé¼┼ôWho formed this line?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked, looking around the troops. Jonathan pointed at Alex.
├óÔé¼┼ôHere,├óÔé¼┬Ø The officer held a bloody emblam in his hand. ├óÔé¼┼ôCorpral Kevin was one of the many to die. Now, you are Knight Corpral Alex.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex took the blood stained emblam. ├óÔé¼┼ôT-thank you sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou kept your head.├óÔé¼┬Ø The officer nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou took down some enemies. Why don't you ecsurzie your new athority and round up any enemy survivors.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes sir!├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex snapped a salute, smacking his first against his chest. ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...you, you and you.├óÔé¼┬Ø He points out three other knights in the area. ├óÔé¼┼ôPrisinor detail.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He and the three knights, which included Jonathan, moved into the woods off the road. Their flints were at the ready, loaded and primed.
They stooped by the first Silverback. He didn't wear a uniform, or at least not a uniform like the Imperals did. A white cloake wrapped around simple farmer's clothes. The only uniform thing Alex could see was an armband with the Silverback ingisnia, a stylized N with a R next to it, surrounded by a red ring and flanked by two bars of gold. He was also dead, and his flint looked crummy and poorly designed compaired to the Imperial flints.
├óÔé¼┼ôHoly Gods...├óÔé¼┬Ø A knight about ten feet to the side, standing in a cove of tree's. ├óÔé¼┼ôGuys...Corpral, come over here!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex, Jonathan and the other knights ran over. The silverback that the knight stood over was alive, shifting slightly as blood started to turn a part of his white cloak red. The silverback was on his front.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe's alive, patch him up and-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôUh...├óÔé¼┬Ø The knight, who was a youngish nobleman who didn't need to shave yet, nudged the downed silverback with his toe.
The silverback rolled onto his front...Alex blinked, then knelt down, gaping. Slim, much slimmer than any man, and with two mounds on her chest, longer hair-
├óÔé¼┼ôOh gods...it's a girl.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex said. The female Silverback groaned.
├óÔé¼┼ôCorpral, what should we do with her?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan asked, looking at Alex.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe-├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex started. The silverback opened one eye, stopped moaning, and pulled out a knife, throwing her cloak back. Alex noticed the wound was barely a graze.
Then he noticed the knife sliding into his gut.
├óÔé¼┼ôBitch!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan smashed out with the butt of his flint, catching the Silverback woman in the chin. She pitched back, even as Alex fell backwards. He hit the ground and felt the knife. It's hilt pressed into his belly, and his belly felt like a cold shaft was sticking through it, hot pain radiating out from that. Which, Alex supposed, was what being stabbed was supposed to feel like.
.-
Archangel of Death
- Posts: 854
- Joined: 28 Jan 2005, 18:15
-
Guessmyname
- Posts: 3301
- Joined: 28 Apr 2005, 21:07
-
Archangel of Death
- Posts: 854
- Joined: 28 Jan 2005, 18:15
Heh, I'm really just using the vague tatters of the story and some of the names, places and setting, but fleshing it out.
So...you might be more wrong than you think, Angelus.
Now, the next installment comes soon, as I've been at Championships.
Fremont Highschool Firebird Marching Band: 13 place out of 40 in the WBA Statewide Championships.
Sweet!
Sending a P.M to Guessmyname in like...five minuets.
So...you might be more wrong than you think, Angelus.
Now, the next installment comes soon, as I've been at Championships.
Fremont Highschool Firebird Marching Band: 13 place out of 40 in the WBA Statewide Championships.
Sweet!
Sending a P.M to Guessmyname in like...five minuets.
Guessmyname is a life safter. Three huzza's for him.
Anyway, now for the third part.
###
├óÔé¼┼ôHere, drink.├óÔé¼┬Ø
A cold tube of sickly sweet liquid pressed into Alex's lips. He drank it down and sighed as the pain from his wound dulled. Alex sighed. Philler had been invented by some alchemist back in the Empire about three years ago, and now all Alex wanted to find him and buy him a drink.
├óÔé¼┼ôOkay, we're going to move you now... shit, you're heavy.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAm not,├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex muttered as arms looped under his shoulders. He groaned, the dulled pain suddenly shooting back to full strength. He took scant comfort in remembering that if he hadn't been given the philler, the pain would be even worse.
Jonathan and the other Knights dragged Alex to one of the wounded wagons, which were stuffed full of wounded men. Arm stumps, mangled legs, sliced open bellies...the front wagon smelled and looked like a charnal house.
They set Alex down in the second wagon, which held stab wounds, punctures, fractures, and various 'mid range' wounds. Alex found himself with his head propped against the wooden side and his legs buried under another wounded man, who's arm was wrapped in a splint.
├óÔé¼┼ôNever trust a Silverback.├óÔé¼┬Ø The man with the broken arm said, shifting slightly so he could face Alex. His voice was slurred, and his eyes were wide, the whites completely lost by the iris. ├óÔé¼┼ôSons of whores...left some clockwork bombs under the road. One of them...tore Josh apart. I was lucky├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex nodded, winced, and bit his lip as pain welled from his wound. Someone smacked the horse that was hooked to the wagon and it lurched into motion, jostling the wounded.
├óÔé¼┼ôStabbed.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, gesturing to his wound. ├óÔé¼┼ôSilverback was playing dead.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The wounded man nodded sagely. ├óÔé¼┼ôAs I said.├óÔé¼┬Ø
###
Alex drifted in and out of consciousness as the wagons moved back to Fort Bronze, near the back of the front. The Fort hadn't impressed Alex when he had stopped their before shipping out. Small, squat, ugly, and jammed to the point of overflowing with wounded and back field officers.
Alex had expected to come back to Fort Bronze as the first part of leave.
Instead, he woke up with a Source leaning over him. This Source, like most, had red hair, flaming red robes and an orange blindfold over her eyes. Her hands, glowing softly with Ghost Light, hovered over his stomach. Alex whimpered as the weird, otherworldly sense of something unnameable flooding his body. Then, with a sudden snap, pain shot through his body. Alex screamed, adding his voice to the cacophony that already filled the room.
The Source withdrew her hands, nodding. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou'll live.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh gods,├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex clenched his teeth. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI know.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source put her hand on his shoulder. Blackness slammed down around Alex.
And a second later, he sat up with a hiss. Around him lay the other wounded, each in their own beds. The one's who's limbs had been blown off looked the worst, though their bloody stumps now had skin and flesh stretching over what had been a red slurry of torn meat and shattered bone. But their faces were haggered and gaunt and sallow, with large sacks under their eyes. Their hair matted to their skulls and they looked like men half a step from the grave. Alex wondered if he looked any better.
He looked down at his hands. They seemed shrunken. He sniffed them, and they smelled of hands that hadn't been washed in a long while. Alex sighed, flexing his fingers. They had been painters hands, a few months and two life times ago. He saw, in his peripheral vision, other people moving, waking. Some started to talk amongst themselves. Alex sighed as the man next to him turned to look at him, his green eyes seeming too bright on his sallow face.
It was the man with a splinted arm, from the back of the wagon. Alex nodded at him, licking his lips.
├óÔé¼┼ôMy mouth feels like it's been through a cheese grater.├óÔé¼┬Ø The man with a splint said, though Alex noticed that he no longer had a splint. His arm looked pale and atrophied, but still there, and no longer broken.
├óÔé¼┼ôSame.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex held up his hand. ├óÔé¼┼ôWater!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Half the ward did likewise at roughly the same time. A sudden feeling of something weird and slippery pressed into Alex's palm. He yelped and pushed himself back. The feeling turned more and more solid and, with a loud crack, a small water glass appeared in each patient's hand.
├óÔé¼┼ôDrink up.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source that stood near the door, her hand still raised and the faintest glow of Ghost Light lingering around her fingers, spoke. She was the same who had worked on Alex.
Or, so he guessed. Source all tended to look the same. She lowered her hand, the Ghost Light slithering down her leg and to the floor. She seemed to look at every person in the room at the same time, her blindfold making it hard to tell for sure. ├óÔé¼┼ôI will now make my rounds. It will hurt. Prepare yourselves.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex gulped. The Source walked over to the first man, a poor bugger who looked like he'd stopped a chunk of road with his belly. Alex could see the scar, which looked bright and fresh. The Source put her hand on his belly and Ghost Light flared, bright and green. Alex blinked and the man screamed. As the Source removed her hand, Alex could see the scar looked faded and old.
The man collapsed back into his bed, sweating bullets. The Source moved to the next man, who was missing a foot. She bent over him and whispered in his ear. He looked crushed as she moved away, but a flicker of relief lingered in his eyes. Alex could practically see what he thought: I don't get my foot back...but I won't scream like that.
Alex gulped as the Source moved towards him, man by man. Some didn't scream, passed over because of their missing limbs. Most did. By the time the Source arrived at him, Alex felt the scream bursting at his lips. He whimpered as the Source put her hand on his belly.
Suddenly, she looked up at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôAlex, please, whatever you do-├óÔé¼┬Ø Her voice dropped to a low hiss, changing pitch from it's stiff, almost mechanical monotone to a fervent whisper. ├óÔé¼┼ô-Don't, don't lead the charge at Redstroke. And, Alex...I love you.├óÔé¼┬Ø
She kissed him on the lips, her tongue flooding his mouth. For a moment, Alex kissed her back, feeling a faint tickle in the back of his mind, as if something was trying to crawl in there. He felt the Source's hand on his belly, where his knife wound still smarted, despite being reduced to a new scar last night. Alex braced himself for the pain he knew was coming...
The Source jerked back, gasping. ├óÔé¼┼ôGods...├óÔé¼┬Ø she almost fell against the bed behind her. The other soldiers watched, each of them looking more shocked than the last. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou...are...I won't...I can't...├óÔé¼┬Ø
She shook her head, two points of light flaring behind her blindfold. She turned and ran, her robe flapping behind her.
Alex gulped, the feeling of the kiss still on his lips. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat...the hells just happened.?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man next to him shrugged, slowly. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy are you asking me?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex leaned back in the bed. The loud clatter of boots on stone floor sounded. A man, tall, a bit pudgy and sporting a magnificent beard, walked into the hospital.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou.├óÔé¼┬Ø he pointed at Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ôCome with me.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex gulped and gingerly got to his feet. His wound smarted, but he managed to stay on his feet. The pudgy man grudgingly handed him a crutch. Alex used it to hobble forward.
├óÔé¼┼ôNow,├óÔé¼┬Ø The man said. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am Knight General White-├óÔé¼┬Ø He turned towards the door. As he did so, Alex saw the Knight General crown on his shoulder. ├óÔé¼┼ô-And I need to talk with you, knight
Alex gulped and nodded. He followed the Knight General, who walked briskly down the hall, not caring that Alex could barely manage a hobble. Alex sweated profusely by the time he arrived at the Knight General's office.
├óÔé¼┼ôKnight├óÔé¼┬Ø the Knight General said, sitting down behind his desk.
├óÔé¼┼ôSir.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex nodded, leaning on his crutch.
├óÔé¼┼ôNow, can you tell me exactly why a Source that has worked with our battlefield hospitals for over four years would suddenly, for no reason, go nuts when half the ward still needed her?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAbsolutely no idea, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex gulped. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe just...touched me and...went off.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Knight General sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôKnight...we need as many men on the front as soon as possible. The Silverbacks are retreating on the entire front, but come winter...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI didn't do it on purpose, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex said through gritted teeth.
The Knight General sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell, the Source is curled up in her quarters and there is no other Source for several miles...and we can't send a message quickly without our Source. We need her working again.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex bit his lip. ├óÔé¼┼ôSir, I don't see how I could help-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell,├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight General rubbed his temples. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe only thing she's said since she went batshit on us is: Don't.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex thought. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe...she told me to not lead the charge at Redstroke. Mean anything...├óÔé¼┬Ø He trailed off as he saw the Knight General's expression. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Knight General stood and walked over to the map that spread across the wall of his somewhat austere office. Alex hobbled over and looked.
Redstroke. It was a large city straddling a river, cutting off an area of the Southlands from the rest. The area behind it, Mannistoke Hills, were dotted with the small symbols that were made to show crystalline mines.
Alex whistled. Ground up crystals were the base of philler, gunpowder, and three other kinds of alchemical concoctions necessary to the modern age. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut that's hundred of miles away from the front, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôExactly...but if we reach there, and break through...the Southlands will be ours.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight General said, his face thoughtful. ├óÔé¼┼ôIf we are charging there, it means we've almost won the war.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex nodded, thinking. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo...is this a message from the future, sir?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Knight General looked him over. ├óÔé¼┼ôBy the gods, I hope it is.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anyway, now for the third part.
###
├óÔé¼┼ôHere, drink.├óÔé¼┬Ø
A cold tube of sickly sweet liquid pressed into Alex's lips. He drank it down and sighed as the pain from his wound dulled. Alex sighed. Philler had been invented by some alchemist back in the Empire about three years ago, and now all Alex wanted to find him and buy him a drink.
├óÔé¼┼ôOkay, we're going to move you now... shit, you're heavy.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAm not,├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex muttered as arms looped under his shoulders. He groaned, the dulled pain suddenly shooting back to full strength. He took scant comfort in remembering that if he hadn't been given the philler, the pain would be even worse.
Jonathan and the other Knights dragged Alex to one of the wounded wagons, which were stuffed full of wounded men. Arm stumps, mangled legs, sliced open bellies...the front wagon smelled and looked like a charnal house.
They set Alex down in the second wagon, which held stab wounds, punctures, fractures, and various 'mid range' wounds. Alex found himself with his head propped against the wooden side and his legs buried under another wounded man, who's arm was wrapped in a splint.
├óÔé¼┼ôNever trust a Silverback.├óÔé¼┬Ø The man with the broken arm said, shifting slightly so he could face Alex. His voice was slurred, and his eyes were wide, the whites completely lost by the iris. ├óÔé¼┼ôSons of whores...left some clockwork bombs under the road. One of them...tore Josh apart. I was lucky├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex nodded, winced, and bit his lip as pain welled from his wound. Someone smacked the horse that was hooked to the wagon and it lurched into motion, jostling the wounded.
├óÔé¼┼ôStabbed.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, gesturing to his wound. ├óÔé¼┼ôSilverback was playing dead.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The wounded man nodded sagely. ├óÔé¼┼ôAs I said.├óÔé¼┬Ø
###
Alex drifted in and out of consciousness as the wagons moved back to Fort Bronze, near the back of the front. The Fort hadn't impressed Alex when he had stopped their before shipping out. Small, squat, ugly, and jammed to the point of overflowing with wounded and back field officers.
Alex had expected to come back to Fort Bronze as the first part of leave.
Instead, he woke up with a Source leaning over him. This Source, like most, had red hair, flaming red robes and an orange blindfold over her eyes. Her hands, glowing softly with Ghost Light, hovered over his stomach. Alex whimpered as the weird, otherworldly sense of something unnameable flooding his body. Then, with a sudden snap, pain shot through his body. Alex screamed, adding his voice to the cacophony that already filled the room.
The Source withdrew her hands, nodding. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou'll live.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh gods,├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex clenched his teeth. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI know.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source put her hand on his shoulder. Blackness slammed down around Alex.
And a second later, he sat up with a hiss. Around him lay the other wounded, each in their own beds. The one's who's limbs had been blown off looked the worst, though their bloody stumps now had skin and flesh stretching over what had been a red slurry of torn meat and shattered bone. But their faces were haggered and gaunt and sallow, with large sacks under their eyes. Their hair matted to their skulls and they looked like men half a step from the grave. Alex wondered if he looked any better.
He looked down at his hands. They seemed shrunken. He sniffed them, and they smelled of hands that hadn't been washed in a long while. Alex sighed, flexing his fingers. They had been painters hands, a few months and two life times ago. He saw, in his peripheral vision, other people moving, waking. Some started to talk amongst themselves. Alex sighed as the man next to him turned to look at him, his green eyes seeming too bright on his sallow face.
It was the man with a splinted arm, from the back of the wagon. Alex nodded at him, licking his lips.
├óÔé¼┼ôMy mouth feels like it's been through a cheese grater.├óÔé¼┬Ø The man with a splint said, though Alex noticed that he no longer had a splint. His arm looked pale and atrophied, but still there, and no longer broken.
├óÔé¼┼ôSame.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex held up his hand. ├óÔé¼┼ôWater!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Half the ward did likewise at roughly the same time. A sudden feeling of something weird and slippery pressed into Alex's palm. He yelped and pushed himself back. The feeling turned more and more solid and, with a loud crack, a small water glass appeared in each patient's hand.
├óÔé¼┼ôDrink up.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source that stood near the door, her hand still raised and the faintest glow of Ghost Light lingering around her fingers, spoke. She was the same who had worked on Alex.
Or, so he guessed. Source all tended to look the same. She lowered her hand, the Ghost Light slithering down her leg and to the floor. She seemed to look at every person in the room at the same time, her blindfold making it hard to tell for sure. ├óÔé¼┼ôI will now make my rounds. It will hurt. Prepare yourselves.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex gulped. The Source walked over to the first man, a poor bugger who looked like he'd stopped a chunk of road with his belly. Alex could see the scar, which looked bright and fresh. The Source put her hand on his belly and Ghost Light flared, bright and green. Alex blinked and the man screamed. As the Source removed her hand, Alex could see the scar looked faded and old.
The man collapsed back into his bed, sweating bullets. The Source moved to the next man, who was missing a foot. She bent over him and whispered in his ear. He looked crushed as she moved away, but a flicker of relief lingered in his eyes. Alex could practically see what he thought: I don't get my foot back...but I won't scream like that.
Alex gulped as the Source moved towards him, man by man. Some didn't scream, passed over because of their missing limbs. Most did. By the time the Source arrived at him, Alex felt the scream bursting at his lips. He whimpered as the Source put her hand on his belly.
Suddenly, she looked up at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôAlex, please, whatever you do-├óÔé¼┬Ø Her voice dropped to a low hiss, changing pitch from it's stiff, almost mechanical monotone to a fervent whisper. ├óÔé¼┼ô-Don't, don't lead the charge at Redstroke. And, Alex...I love you.├óÔé¼┬Ø
She kissed him on the lips, her tongue flooding his mouth. For a moment, Alex kissed her back, feeling a faint tickle in the back of his mind, as if something was trying to crawl in there. He felt the Source's hand on his belly, where his knife wound still smarted, despite being reduced to a new scar last night. Alex braced himself for the pain he knew was coming...
The Source jerked back, gasping. ├óÔé¼┼ôGods...├óÔé¼┬Ø she almost fell against the bed behind her. The other soldiers watched, each of them looking more shocked than the last. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou...are...I won't...I can't...├óÔé¼┬Ø
She shook her head, two points of light flaring behind her blindfold. She turned and ran, her robe flapping behind her.
Alex gulped, the feeling of the kiss still on his lips. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat...the hells just happened.?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man next to him shrugged, slowly. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhy are you asking me?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex leaned back in the bed. The loud clatter of boots on stone floor sounded. A man, tall, a bit pudgy and sporting a magnificent beard, walked into the hospital.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou.├óÔé¼┬Ø he pointed at Alex. ├óÔé¼┼ôCome with me.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex gulped and gingerly got to his feet. His wound smarted, but he managed to stay on his feet. The pudgy man grudgingly handed him a crutch. Alex used it to hobble forward.
├óÔé¼┼ôNow,├óÔé¼┬Ø The man said. ├óÔé¼┼ôI am Knight General White-├óÔé¼┬Ø He turned towards the door. As he did so, Alex saw the Knight General crown on his shoulder. ├óÔé¼┼ô-And I need to talk with you, knight
Alex gulped and nodded. He followed the Knight General, who walked briskly down the hall, not caring that Alex could barely manage a hobble. Alex sweated profusely by the time he arrived at the Knight General's office.
├óÔé¼┼ôKnight├óÔé¼┬Ø the Knight General said, sitting down behind his desk.
├óÔé¼┼ôSir.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex nodded, leaning on his crutch.
├óÔé¼┼ôNow, can you tell me exactly why a Source that has worked with our battlefield hospitals for over four years would suddenly, for no reason, go nuts when half the ward still needed her?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAbsolutely no idea, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex gulped. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe just...touched me and...went off.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Knight General sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôKnight...we need as many men on the front as soon as possible. The Silverbacks are retreating on the entire front, but come winter...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI didn't do it on purpose, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø Alex said through gritted teeth.
The Knight General sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell, the Source is curled up in her quarters and there is no other Source for several miles...and we can't send a message quickly without our Source. We need her working again.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex bit his lip. ├óÔé¼┼ôSir, I don't see how I could help-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell,├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight General rubbed his temples. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe only thing she's said since she went batshit on us is: Don't.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex thought. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe...she told me to not lead the charge at Redstroke. Mean anything...├óÔé¼┬Ø He trailed off as he saw the Knight General's expression. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Knight General stood and walked over to the map that spread across the wall of his somewhat austere office. Alex hobbled over and looked.
Redstroke. It was a large city straddling a river, cutting off an area of the Southlands from the rest. The area behind it, Mannistoke Hills, were dotted with the small symbols that were made to show crystalline mines.
Alex whistled. Ground up crystals were the base of philler, gunpowder, and three other kinds of alchemical concoctions necessary to the modern age. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut that's hundred of miles away from the front, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôExactly...but if we reach there, and break through...the Southlands will be ours.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight General said, his face thoughtful. ├óÔé¼┼ôIf we are charging there, it means we've almost won the war.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Alex nodded, thinking. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo...is this a message from the future, sir?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Knight General looked him over. ├óÔé¼┼ôBy the gods, I hope it is.├óÔé¼┬Ø
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Guessmyname
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Archangel of Death
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