Subj: [ffml] [MW] Saving Private Tyler {part 1}
Date: 00-02-07 18:20:25 EST
From: darklord@compusmart.ab.ca (His Dark Lordship)
Reply-to: ffml@onelist.com
To: ffml@onelist.com (ffml)
From: His Dark Lordship
"War is hell. Unless you happen to win it. Then it's kinda fun to look back
on, in a sick sort of way."
- Unknown.
Curt sat beside Magnus in the small boats the Moogles had prepared for the
naval assault.
A day before, several high ranking officials took several soldiers into
some
fairly tame looking airships. The rest of the soldiers were sent to this
sea point where they were supposedly attacking Southvale from the east. He
didn't quite understand, but a grunt was supposed to understand, just
follow, he assumed.
Magnus looked around with a rather obvious amount of anxiousness. He wanted
to kill something, obviously.
What was mostly on Curt's mind though was the fact Tyler had been abducted
a
few days before. He didn't know where Tyler was either.
Of course, the fact that they were launching a full scale invasion and Curt
still had a wounded arm didn't exactly ease him either.
The small group he was a part of was comprised of a mosiac of Vectorian
soldiers and Moogles. One in the back nervously clutched a crossbow. Around
them he saw boats full of Moogles, and boats filled with Vectorian
soldiers.
The beach was before them. Curt looked at the lead boat. He saw the man in
the front. He saw a bolt portrude from his head. Then, in a brilliant
crimson flash, the boat was gone and the waters were impurified with ground
human flesh.
Curt threw up.
His commander was shouting something. He couldn't hear. Magnus nudged him.
"Get out of the goddamn boat, Curt!"
Curt jumped up rather quickly. He flew from the boat alongside Magnus and
landed below water, his armour bogging him down. He felt a heavy vibration
and quickly realised that the boat had been destroyed. The water itself was
already a faint crimson, and small fish were picking at the remains of
those that didn't make the beach. A rib brushed across his nose.
Curt was in shock, and would have likely remained sititng in the water,
bogged down and drowning, had Magnus not grabbed him and hauled him towards
the beach. Most of the soldiers were already on the beach... litterally. As
Curt revealed himself from the water he saw tons of Vectorian and Moogle
soldiers lying about the beach. A good majority of his platoon was strewn
about. As he slowly regained his senses, Curt tripped over his commander's
severed arm. As he hit the ground he heard a thump behind him, and looked
back to see a crossbow bolt where he had stood a second before. He saw his
commander nearby, missing his arm and part of his left body, screaming his
head off from the pain.
Magnus dragged Curt behind some cover. The Moogle with the crossbow was
there as well as a few others from the platoon. Most of them were dead.
"We're not close enough.." grumbled Magnus. "We have to get to the beach."
Looking about, Curt saw another member of his platoon lying on the ground,
holding his intestines. He was screaming something... Mother?
Curt threw up again. He had never seen this much blood.
Magnus looked about, and decided to take charge.
"Alright shorties. We're making a full out run to the upper land there." he
pointed to an area inbetween the Doman fortress and the beach. "Anyone who
doesn't make it save me a warm spot in Valhalla."
The soldiers all nodded. There wasn't exactly much strategy they could put
to effect.
Magnus yelled something and the company make a full charge at the beach.
Curt saw someone ahead of him go down, a bolt portruding from his knee. Not
knowing what else to do, he grabbed him and started dragging him along.
Once again he looked around. Some medics were attempting to patch up a man
with a large gash on his chest. The bleeding apparanty had stopped, and
then suddenly a bolt struck his head. THe medic swore and then was hit by a
bolt, this one with a stick of explosives on it. In a bright flash the medi
covered an area of ten feet, and his former patient was bathed in his
blood.
The weight Curt was dragging seemed lighter. He looked at it. He was
dragging a torso. He shook his head.
"Where the fuck did your legs go!?!" he kicked the corpse in the head.
He heard Magnus calling for him. Curt quickly remembered the charge. With
speed he didn't know he had, he was with his platoon.
The Moogle with the crossbow was at this point taking aim, with some
explosive bolts of his own. The fuse was set.
"GO!" yelled Magnus, and two soldiers rushed out, running to the base. The
Moogle fired the bolt and struck a man on the fort. An explosion ensued and
the charging men were showered in the Doman's remains. One stopped and
looked like he was throwing up. Then, a small wrapping hit him and he
screamed, clutching his skin as it slowly was set ablaze.
Curt was about to throw up but decided it would be better not to. Only he
and Magnus were left, as well as the Moogle sniper.
"Kupo... get ready you sexy dogs." chuckled the Moogle as it took aim.
Magnus looked like he was about to say something but then the realization
hit him. "Let's go Curt!"
Curt and Magnus charged. Curt pulled out his longsword and bellowed out
something about Doman bastards, and he felt more body part and fluids
strike him from above. He no longer cared. Soon, he, along with Magnus and
several other platoons that were conducting the same activity clambered
over the walls of the fort. Now it was personal.
Curt saw a Doman archer pull out a broadsword and charge at him. Curt
ducked
the initial swing and thrust his sword up through the soldier's gut. The
soldier clutched the would and yelped as Curt threw him over the fortress
wall. He saw a pile of the greek fire the Domans were using. Ardrenaline
flowing, he grabbed a package and threw it at a clutch of Doman soldiers
near a bunker. They screamed as their skin slowly combusted. With a second
clutch he rushed to the bunker and threw it through the door. Domans came
pouring out, screaming amongst the flame. One fell on the ground before
Curt. He kicked it in the head.
Curt looked about. He saw Magnus, with his great battle axe, howling like a
wolf and cutting down soldiers left and right. He saw the Fortress'
commander, a woman in her thirties, slicing down moogles, but ultimately
falling to a group of four moogleboars, which pounced on her. Served her
fucking right.
A Dragoon slowly proceeded towards Curt. Curt jumped back and dodged his
lance. Curt grasped the spear, dropping his sword in the process. The
Dragoon pulled him back with impressive strength, and clutched him by the
throat.
"Moogle sympathiser...." said the Dragoon.
Curt, in desperation, shoved his last clutch of greek fire into the
Dragoon's mouth, and sent his knee into the Dragoon's jaw. The Dragoon
tried to scream, but couldn't. Not taking the possibility of the napalm
catching onto him into account, Curt shoved his fingers into the Dragoon's
mouth, effectively forcing the dragoon to swallow it. The effect was
instantanious. The Dragoon dropped him, clutching at it's throat, which was
covered in an armour brace. Quickly, he began tearing off his armour,
clutching the burning feeling in his body. Not knowing what else to do,
Curt delivered a swift kick to the Dragoon's stomache.
From the burning heat inside of the dragoon, and the gases released from
it's stomache, the Dragoon's life was over. The entire torso of the elite
soldier exploded, showering Curt with bones, blood and organs alike. Curt
looked down. The dragoon's liver was caught in his breastplate.
Suddenly, the ardrenaline faded away and realization hit Curt.
He fainted.
* * * * * * *
Curt slowly awoke in a fairly soft bed. His legs and chest severely ached.
He looked about the room and saw several less fortunate soldiers who were
missing limbs, skin, or were dead and no one had realized it yet. A sudden
fear struck Curt, and he tried to move his arms. They worked. He sighed in
relief and then attempted to move his legs. They also worked. Toes too. He
was in one piece.
He saw Magnus stroll him. He had more scars on him than skin, and hadn't
washed his hair and beard yet, as one could clearly see them caked in
blood.
"Hey, Curt. Nice fight with the dragoon there."
Curt thought for a moment, and remembered the exploding dragoon, and how he
was covered in everything from blood to excesss urea. He immedietely turned
to the side of his bed and emptied his stomache onto the floor.
Magnus chuckled.
"Did we... win?" asked Curt, wiping the phlegm off his mouth and then
regretting moving his arm at all.
"The fortress is ours. They figure you'll be walking in a day or so. And
guess what?"
Magnus quickly showed off the badge on his cloak.
"They promoted me. I'm now Leutenent Magnus." he grinned. "And you're in my
squad, so you'd better heal up fast, Corpeal!"
They both shared a hearty laugh, and then Curt suddenly ran out of energy
and passed out.
--
The eternal lord of darkness...
"And if our dreams sometimes come true, then what of our nightmares?"
-GM of FF2c
-Former ruler of the ffml
ICQ UIN# 23424269
IRC Nicks: TheDarkLord, GannondorfDragmire, occasionally Blackthorne
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Date: Mon, 7 Feb 2000 16:14:49 -0700
From: His Dark Lordship
Reply-to: ffml@onelist.com
Subject: [ffml] [MW] Saving Private Tyler {part 1}
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