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(( Sorry if it sucks...))
(( Ohh..and Word aint cheap...I used notpad so the format might be...ehh))
All around him muffled shouts, some orders, others prayers, the sounds of
cook fires being extinguished, the harsh rasp of blade on rough whetstone, that particular one grating against the mans already tortured nervous system.To his immediate left a Blade threw up, spilling his meager breakfast across the dew soaked grass. The man turned back to his squad, watching them stow the last of the gear, First Sword Fletcher upended a bucket of water atop the remnants of last nights cook fire. His eyes didn't need to adjust, it was just before dawn and already the sun could be seen rising...the man paused, no that wasn't right at all the sun doesn't rise in the east...the man started suddenly with harsh realization. Shouts came from all around as men pointed, some dropped down and their knees and renewed their spur of the moment prayers,Others simply dropped to their knees in silence, in the distance was their destination, the city or Arabel was in flames.
First Sword Fletcher kicked awake one of the Blades, in the darkness the man could hardly tell who it was, but by the tone and vehemency of the voice it was probably Blade Andraste. She was seething and railing at the injustice of so early march, as she caught a glimpse of the city however her string of curses slowly rattled off into nothingness, ending in a single silent expletive,
"Fuck".
And at the time the man could think of no better way to sum up the position they now found themselves in.
The man stumbled numbly back towards the campsite, his face set and grim, he went about packing the last of his gear for the march, all the while rattling off an internal prayer to nearly every god he knew, he asked Tymora to watch over him, he asked Besheba to look away, He begged Helm to protect him, and he pleaded with Tempus to rain his fury over his enemies. As the man continued to pray he finally stumbled upon one god, one he knew little about, but enough to say a proper prayer to surely? Torm, he thought, duty, obedience, loyalty and righteous fury, a soldiers god through and through.So the man sat there, sharpening his blade whilst praying,praying that his courage would hold, that he would be able do his duty when the time came, that he might just might see th-a boot snapped him from his newfound god. The man stood with a growl.
"what, what the hell is it? I was sort of in the middle of something."
The Firstsword answered back with a harsh scowl.
"on your feet you lazy bastard we're moving out now."
Fletcher then shook his head muttering to himself.
"I swear they made you Telsword just so no one would have to call you Blade Steele, stupid bastard that you are.."
The man stalked off, muttering all the while.
Steele got to his feet, glancing about as the rest of the squad converged, Andraste, Followed by Neasa, both quite the lookers. Neasa caught Steele's appraising eye and gave him a sharp look, but said nothing.Next came Urien the royal scout attached to the squad, a skilled forester and tracker and a nearly unmatched archer, and also a close friends of Steele's.After that came Damir,Athanaric and Cordell, not the brightest lot but good soldiers who could hold a line, and thats all that counted.Next up where Lycurgus and Cloelia, the lovers, they gave each other a parting kiss before mustering up. Steele fought a pang of jealousy, Cloelia was more than just a looker, she was stunning, and had absolutely no business in the Dragons.And lastly came Mohan and Reiner, bickering as usual, it never really got out of hand though thank the gods...
The squad assembled and their day began with a long march, Steele found himself praying to his new god nearly the entire time. Word had come down the chain that a siege was to be expected, with the Orcs and Goblins holding out on the walls. As the March continued on however it became plain for all to see that the Orcs had no such intent, the walls where unmanned and the gates, unbarred...the orcs meant to make this costly...building by building street by street.
The regiments where weary from the march whilst the higher ups themselves needed time to formulate a new strategy around the Orcs plan.The camp that night was silent, those there had either worked themselves up for inevitable battle or dreaded every second that brought them closer to it, there was no middle ground now, it was too late for that. there where those who where ready, and those who wouldn't be ready until the last possible moment, that instant where axe meets sword, and others still would never be ready, caught unawares and left to bleed on the streets and in foreign alleys. Steele found himself in a fitful sleep that night,mind racing with the possibilities, the scenarios,all in all he slept as most soldiers do on the eve of battle. He awoke to shouting and calls to muster, the powers that be had their plan, and it was time to hear it.
"Alright you louts here it is, the royal scouts are going in along with elements of light infantry they are going to find and map any large groups of Orcs that seem to be holed up or Sticking together, then their gona fall back and call in the Heavy infantry to break em up, then the mediums, that's us, are gona take out those smaller groups, street by street...any questions?"
The Firstsword barked out at length, not even bothering to wait for an answer before...
"good, get your shit stowed we gota be ready to move as soon as the order comes down."
Already packed, Steele padded over towards Urien and clasped a hand on the mans shoulder
"hey man, you watch yorself out here, you see any big groups you let the heavies do their job alright? Don't play the fucking adventurer you got me?"
"Yeah yeah, you watch yourself too you son of a bitch, that fighting's gona be close and brutal you guys are gona need ta stick together."
Urien replied.
Steele nodded somberly and waved the man off as he went and linked up with the rest of the scouts.He set back off towards his squads camp pausing along the way to observe the camps of both the famous War Wizards and the Dragoneers atop their Hippogriff mounts, Steele allowed himself a wry grin. it was said that The Wizards get the fear and awe, the Calvary get the glory, but the infantry are the ones that get stuck in and win the day. He watched one of the riders take off, his mount scribing a lazy circle in the afternoon sky, he was interupted mid reverie however as a senior officer collided with him, sending them both reeling.The Officer was back on his feet in a flash, yelling over the still prone Telsword Steele.
"Watch where the hell your going you useless piece of shit."
The man planted a firm boot into Steele's ribs.
"Now kindly point me towards the Lionars tent."
The as of yet Still prone Steele shot a hand in the general direction of the tent and stood up as the officer ran off. To be in that much of a rush could only mean one thing, deployment.
(( Ohh..and Word aint cheap...I used notpad so the format might be...ehh))
All around him muffled shouts, some orders, others prayers, the sounds of
cook fires being extinguished, the harsh rasp of blade on rough whetstone, that particular one grating against the mans already tortured nervous system.To his immediate left a Blade threw up, spilling his meager breakfast across the dew soaked grass. The man turned back to his squad, watching them stow the last of the gear, First Sword Fletcher upended a bucket of water atop the remnants of last nights cook fire. His eyes didn't need to adjust, it was just before dawn and already the sun could be seen rising...the man paused, no that wasn't right at all the sun doesn't rise in the east...the man started suddenly with harsh realization. Shouts came from all around as men pointed, some dropped down and their knees and renewed their spur of the moment prayers,Others simply dropped to their knees in silence, in the distance was their destination, the city or Arabel was in flames.
First Sword Fletcher kicked awake one of the Blades, in the darkness the man could hardly tell who it was, but by the tone and vehemency of the voice it was probably Blade Andraste. She was seething and railing at the injustice of so early march, as she caught a glimpse of the city however her string of curses slowly rattled off into nothingness, ending in a single silent expletive,
"Fuck".
And at the time the man could think of no better way to sum up the position they now found themselves in.
The man stumbled numbly back towards the campsite, his face set and grim, he went about packing the last of his gear for the march, all the while rattling off an internal prayer to nearly every god he knew, he asked Tymora to watch over him, he asked Besheba to look away, He begged Helm to protect him, and he pleaded with Tempus to rain his fury over his enemies. As the man continued to pray he finally stumbled upon one god, one he knew little about, but enough to say a proper prayer to surely? Torm, he thought, duty, obedience, loyalty and righteous fury, a soldiers god through and through.So the man sat there, sharpening his blade whilst praying,praying that his courage would hold, that he would be able do his duty when the time came, that he might just might see th-a boot snapped him from his newfound god. The man stood with a growl.
"what, what the hell is it? I was sort of in the middle of something."
The Firstsword answered back with a harsh scowl.
"on your feet you lazy bastard we're moving out now."
Fletcher then shook his head muttering to himself.
"I swear they made you Telsword just so no one would have to call you Blade Steele, stupid bastard that you are.."
The man stalked off, muttering all the while.
Steele got to his feet, glancing about as the rest of the squad converged, Andraste, Followed by Neasa, both quite the lookers. Neasa caught Steele's appraising eye and gave him a sharp look, but said nothing.Next came Urien the royal scout attached to the squad, a skilled forester and tracker and a nearly unmatched archer, and also a close friends of Steele's.After that came Damir,Athanaric and Cordell, not the brightest lot but good soldiers who could hold a line, and thats all that counted.Next up where Lycurgus and Cloelia, the lovers, they gave each other a parting kiss before mustering up. Steele fought a pang of jealousy, Cloelia was more than just a looker, she was stunning, and had absolutely no business in the Dragons.And lastly came Mohan and Reiner, bickering as usual, it never really got out of hand though thank the gods...
The squad assembled and their day began with a long march, Steele found himself praying to his new god nearly the entire time. Word had come down the chain that a siege was to be expected, with the Orcs and Goblins holding out on the walls. As the March continued on however it became plain for all to see that the Orcs had no such intent, the walls where unmanned and the gates, unbarred...the orcs meant to make this costly...building by building street by street.
The regiments where weary from the march whilst the higher ups themselves needed time to formulate a new strategy around the Orcs plan.The camp that night was silent, those there had either worked themselves up for inevitable battle or dreaded every second that brought them closer to it, there was no middle ground now, it was too late for that. there where those who where ready, and those who wouldn't be ready until the last possible moment, that instant where axe meets sword, and others still would never be ready, caught unawares and left to bleed on the streets and in foreign alleys. Steele found himself in a fitful sleep that night,mind racing with the possibilities, the scenarios,all in all he slept as most soldiers do on the eve of battle. He awoke to shouting and calls to muster, the powers that be had their plan, and it was time to hear it.
"Alright you louts here it is, the royal scouts are going in along with elements of light infantry they are going to find and map any large groups of Orcs that seem to be holed up or Sticking together, then their gona fall back and call in the Heavy infantry to break em up, then the mediums, that's us, are gona take out those smaller groups, street by street...any questions?"
The Firstsword barked out at length, not even bothering to wait for an answer before...
"good, get your shit stowed we gota be ready to move as soon as the order comes down."
Already packed, Steele padded over towards Urien and clasped a hand on the mans shoulder
"hey man, you watch yorself out here, you see any big groups you let the heavies do their job alright? Don't play the fucking adventurer you got me?"
"Yeah yeah, you watch yourself too you son of a bitch, that fighting's gona be close and brutal you guys are gona need ta stick together."
Urien replied.
Steele nodded somberly and waved the man off as he went and linked up with the rest of the scouts.He set back off towards his squads camp pausing along the way to observe the camps of both the famous War Wizards and the Dragoneers atop their Hippogriff mounts, Steele allowed himself a wry grin. it was said that The Wizards get the fear and awe, the Calvary get the glory, but the infantry are the ones that get stuck in and win the day. He watched one of the riders take off, his mount scribing a lazy circle in the afternoon sky, he was interupted mid reverie however as a senior officer collided with him, sending them both reeling.The Officer was back on his feet in a flash, yelling over the still prone Telsword Steele.
"Watch where the hell your going you useless piece of shit."
The man planted a firm boot into Steele's ribs.
"Now kindly point me towards the Lionars tent."
The as of yet Still prone Steele shot a hand in the general direction of the tent and stood up as the officer ran off. To be in that much of a rush could only mean one thing, deployment.