Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Border Wars: Skirmish
Date:	99-12-31 16:35:18 EST
From:	skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to:	ffml@onelist.com
To:	ffml@onelist.com

From: "Sky Hall" 

(I hope you guys like this post. I was "in the zone" when writing it. Also, 
I wasn't sure what to call the town. I was thinking that a tribute to 
Lorinan would be nice. At least that's better then calling it Rocktown.)

  “Alright, take A company and sweep left,” said Hisel.
  The sergeant for A Company nodded and moved off, his men following.
  “B company, take the right,” ordered Hisel. The sergeant complied.
  Tim was right behind Hisel, watching and waiting. In the slight gloom of 
the forest, it was hard to tell how many men there were, but Hisel and Tim 
knew.
  They were in the Veldt Forest, on the outskirts of the Doma territory. 
They had been stationed there for a week now, as part of the Veldt Corp. The 
moogles had been making incursions all along Doma’s borders, and the Veldt 
Corp was to protect this area from moogle occupation.
  Since the Veldt Forest was so large and in Alliance hands, the Doma 
soldiers had a slight advantage. They were given a few days to familiarize 
themselves with the area before the first reports of moogles reached them. 
Since that time, the second brigade, under the command of lieutenant Hisel 
had been busy everyday, patrolling and rooting out moogle units.
  “Tim, take control of C Company and follow my lead,” said Hisel, turning 
to his Sergeant Major. “I’ll lead D Company.”
  “Sir,” replied Tim, quietly.
  Hisel set off at a fast pace, half running, half bounding, as he made his 
way through the thick forest. The land was very wild, and afforded only a 
few navigable trails and even fewer roads. The moogles were moving along the 
roads and trails, trying to penetrate the inner defenses of the Doman 
forces. However, the Doman officers used sneak attacks, regular patrols, 
good surveilance, and just plain appearing out of nowhere to keep the moogle 
advance in check.
  Tim reviewed the general map in his mind as he kept to Hisel’s right, 
matching his pace and direction. Ahead of them lay a couple squads of 
moogles. Their exact position was unknown, but they were heading northwest 
to Doman territory. Hisel’s brigade was going to intercept them on the trail 
the moogles were using, heading in a northeastern direction.
  They would hopefully come across the trail and the moogles somewhere along 
it. They would then attack and annihilate the moogle forces.
  Tim breathed a sigh, hoping that this would be the case.
  Ahead, Tim saw a lighter patch of green and assumed they were nearing the 
trail. He side-stepped a bush, feeling it’s branches scratch against his 
bear fore-arm. It was hot in the Veldt Forest, almost like a jungle, but 
without so much humidity. Tim wore short sleeved shirts and respective 
armor, to keep from bogging down with the heat.
  Before Tim was aware, he had stepped into a small clearing. He stopped and 
looked to his right. Hisel had stepped out and looked just as surprised. 
Hisel looked left as Tim looked right. The two saw what they had been 
expecting. Moogles were to either side of them.
  “C Company, to the right!” cried Tim.
  “SPOON!” shouted Hisel as his men attacked.
  Tim drew his sword, which he had slung on his back, forward and had the 
down-stroke cut into the weak block of a moogle’s spear. The creature 
grunted, then shrieked, as Tim’s sword came down and sliced into it’s ear. 
The white beast backed away, clutching it’s ear, as Tim readied against 
another moogle.
  In the distance, Tim heard clashing and knew that B company had come out 
of the forest and was engaging the moogles from beyond. Tim sneered in 
delight, as he renewed his attack against his opponent. The human brigade 
had basically come and cut the moogle forces in half. Not only that, but had 
surrounded them and both sides. Two pincer attacks were being carried out.
  The moogle fell at Tim’s feet with a final, weak struggle of it’s limbs as 
the dark came over it’s eyes. Tim let a moogle with a spear lunge and 
over-extend itself. Tim stepped back, and a soldier from his company stepped 
forward and took the advantage.
  Surveying the battlefield, Tim saw that the trail they were on was indeed 
small. The brush and trees was so close, that at the narrowest spots, only 
two men could walk abreast, in the larger spots, five men. This made numbers 
unimportant, and instead skill in weapons and endurance would now matter.
  Tim grinned as his soldier felled a moogle, then stepped over it’s body to 
face the next opponent.
  Looking back, Tim spotted Hisel, his sword out and dripping blood. Tim 
called out to him, “I think we found the sweet spot, sir.”
  Hisel responded with a wicked grin. “Aye. Let’s give the moogles some more 
candy, boys!”
  This was answered with a cheer as the men leapt into action. Soldiers 
began crashing through the bushes and trees, as they tried to flank the 
moogles in their narrow columns.
  Tim jumped up and grabbed a tree branch, pulling himself up with one hand 
to look over the heads of his men to see how A and B companies were doing. A 
company was doing well, holding it’s own. The moogles lead element had been 
trapped by A company’s surprise. However, Tim spotted movement beyond B 
company and got a sneaking suspicion that more moogle reinforcements were on 
the way from the southeast.
  Tim ran to Hisel. “Sir! I think enemy reinforcements are coming from the 
south!”
  Hisel, who was looking northwest, turned and said, “Then grab some men and 
get going.” But Tim was already detailing men to help him.
  Seeing that the situation was well in hand in the center, Tim grabbed a 
squad from each company, seventeen men total, and lead them north, through 
the forest, then turned them east, then south. They re-emerged from the 
forest just beyond B company. Already, the sergeant for B company was 
getting one of his squads ready to face the new threat. He looked relieved 
as Tim appeared on the scene.
  “Continue the fight against these moogles,” ordered Tim. “Hurry, though. I 
think we’ll need reinforcements with these new-comers.”
  The man nodded and began bellowing orders, urging his men on.
  Tim got his two squads together. “Shieldmen, in front. Two-by-two.”
  Four soldiers, who had been carrying shields on their backs, unstrapped 
their loads and held the large wooden shields before themselves. Two stood 
in front, two behind.
  “Ready? Charge!” The whole mass of men moved at a brisk run down the 
trail.
  Already, the lead elements of moogles could be seen. They were now 
running, two moogle-boars side by side, galloping on all fours, coming to 
aid their brethern.
  Tim followed the shieldmen, his sword at the ready. He knew this would be 
tough.
  The two forces came together rapidly. The moogleboars roared as they 
leaped at the two lead soldiers. The men brought their shields up, catching 
the boars lunges, and being knocked back. One of the men behind was also 
knocked over. The final shieldman was able to stay on his feet, but he 
encountered a moogleboar with a large club.
  The moogleboar swung, but the soldier had the heart not to give ground. At 
his feet, his fellow human soldiers were lying. To back up would give the 
boar opportunity to strike at them. So the human soldier stood, with 
resolution in his face, determination in his eyes.
  The club swung sideways, and it struck true on the shield of the human. He 
was knocked to the side, into a bush, into the darkness that lay beside the 
trail.
  Now, all that stood as opposition to the moogleboar was Tim.
  Tim had just slowed his pace down a little, but seeing the rapid sequence 
of the soldiers being knocked down, and the final shieldman being cleared 
from the path, Tim reacted with reflex, charging into the moogleboar as it’s 
swing went wide. Tim’s sword barely cut into the abdomen of the beast, his 
shoulder colliding against the white, furry rib cage of the animal. The 
moogleboar stumbled back, but did not fall over.
  Tim recovered and stepped back. He ducked in time to miss the back-knuckle 
of the moogleboar as it swung it’s free hand at him. Tim barely had time to 
bring his sword to bear and managed only to cut the boar’s leg slightly, 
before backing away.
  His pulse racing, his ears unable to hear anything, his mind going blank, 
Tim shouted over the dull roar that echoed in his ears. “Forward!”
  He could barely feel the push of the men as they moved pass him, engaging 
the moogles.

  Later that day, the brigade walked down the trail, eventually linking up 
with the main road that led back to Loritown.
  Loritown was the base of operations for the Veldt Corp. It served as the 
base camp and the supply depot for the soldiers. As well as a staging ground 
for the counter-assualts and new units that arrived.
  Everyday, Tim’s brigade left at dawn, seeking out moogles. And every 
evening, they marched back, fewer in number, looking bloody, dirty, and 
grim.
  Tim carried a bastard sword on his shoulder, a war prize from a moogleboar 
he helped slay. The large beast had cut down four men, before it was 
over-powered by Tim and six other men. In all, Tim had figured they had 
killed eighty moogles that day, driving off another forty into the forest, 
or back down the trail. The humans lost ten of their own. Tim did not want 
to consider where the odds lay. He knew that the moogles numbered a great 
many, and the humans not as much.
  Moving past the great earthern walls which had been erected, Tim led his 
brigade on the familiar course back to their tents. Tim almost felt like 
dragging his feet, especially under the great weight of the sword, but 
reminded himself of the need to appear strong before his men.
  At the site, Tim turned and faced his men, who formed up. Hisel stood a 
few feet behind Tim.
  “Attention!” bellowed Tim. The men did so.
  “You men performed admirably today,” said Hisel. “You fought hard, and we 
defeated a great enemy force. You are all congratulated, and are all honored 
in my eyes. Now, get some chow and get some rest. The moogles may be hurting 
today, but they are not beaten.”
  Hisel turned and walked off to his tent. Tim dismissed his troops. With 
the help of Martin, Tim erected two poles, and from them hung the bastard 
sword on a horizontal before the camp. It was a true war trophy, taken as if 
from the hand of a god. But Tim’s company did not feel immortal. Already, 
they had lost seventeen men in the one week they had been stationed there.
  The men were becoming experienced, and Tim and Hisel knew that the 
casualties would decrease with time. But it seemed that a long time had 
passed since they had enjoyed soft beds back in Doma. Now, they slept on 
blankets on hard ground. The meals were good, hot, and as much as the men 
could fill their stomachs. And after bathing and putting on clean outfits, 
the men would then crawl onto their sleeping blankets and close their eyes.
  Rest came for the weary. But for Tim, he had to write letters to the 
families of the fallen.

--Sky

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From: "Sky Hall" 
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Date: Fri, 31 Dec 1999 13:27:17 PST
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