Subj: [ffml] [MW] Fleeing the Horde
Date: 00-03-01 01:33:51 EST
From: skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to: ffml@onelist.com
To: ffml@onelist.com
From: "Sky Hall"
(Limp Bizkit "Break Stuff")
Tim stood at a crossroads a few miles away from Doma. He stared at the
rising column of smoke that was once the beautiful capital of the great
nation.
"It’s just one of those days," said Jayel.
"I just didn’t want to wake up," said Tim. "Everything just sucks."
"Yeah," said Jayel. "Well, I’m sure Lord Cyan wasn’t expecting the Moogles
to be so strong."
Tim sighed. "I joined Doma in this war because of their long history. Now
in the space of a month, it’s all destroyed."
Tim sneered. He grinded his teeth.
"How long are we to hold this crossroads?" asked Jayel.
"Not long enough," said Tim. He turned and faced his brigade of men, as
well as a couple of loose squads of men. "You hear that? We are to stay as
till the end of this day, if possible. I know we can’t do that, so we stay
here till I can’t fight anymore. Is that a deal?"
The men all looked surprised and gave a unified grunt of assent. "Hurrah!"
Jayel grinned lightly. "And I’ll make sure we all live through this
fight." Another "Hurrah" was given.
Tim turned back and faced down the road. Though he could not see the
enemy, he was sure he could feel the approaching rumble of moogleboars,
chocobos, and even small magitek armors racing towards him down the road.
Chasing down whatever stragglers they came across.
As the first moogleboar rounded a turn in the road and came charging
straight on, Tim held aloft his shield and longsword and gave a warcry,
which was picked up in volume by the rest of the soldiers.
The moogleboar made a swipe with it’s sharp claws.
Tim ducked and twisted his body, bringing his sword in a backhanded swing,
slicing under the forearm of the boar. The beast screamed bloody murder and
thrashed back. Tim caught the arm of the boar on his shield, then drove his
sword into the lower abdomen of the boar. The pain was so much, the boar
retreated.
A moogle appeared in the boar’s place and Tim swung high. The moogle
ducked, deflecting Tim’s sword with it’s spear. Tim followed with a kick to
the stomach of the moogle. The small creature doubled back and rolled away.
"Grah! Come on!" yelled Tim, egging on the moogles that stood at bay.
Two approached, their spears probbing and feinting. Tim used his shield
and sword to deflect as he moved his body closer to the moogles.
Tim grabbed the spear of the moogle on his left and swung it down, forcing
the spear of the other moogle into the ground. Tim stepped on the two spears
and then swung his sword into the body of the moogle on his right. It caught
it’s arm, then skidded up to slice into the head of the moogle. The small
creature screamed and released the spear, clutching it’s bleeding wounds.
Tim then faced the moogle to his left and brought the hilt into the forehead
of the small white beast with such force that Tim heard a loud crack.
Tim released the spear, and pushed kicked the little critter into the path
of a Lance Henriksen.
Turning back, Tim barely avoided another spear thrust by a moogle. Tim’s
new opponent had a red mark across it’s face. Tim sneered at the thought
that it must be blood.
"I hope you know I’m like a chainsaw," said Tim, his eyes glazing over in
bloodlust. "I’m going to enjoy breaking your fucken face."
Tim swung wildly, his sword clashing against the spear. The moogle barely
managed to step back from Tim’s return swing. Wielding his weapon deftly,
the moogle swung and stabbed quickly, making Tim quickly take the defensive
and hold his shield as a block. Tim had to back up step by step as the
moogle pressed it’s attack. Tim managed to deflect the spear with his
shield, and extend forward his sword in a quick thrust that stabbed the
chest of the moogle.
Grunting in pain, the moogle retreated a step, one hand clutching the open
wound. Seeing that the blood did not flow like a torrent, the moogle grasped
it’s spear again and made a stab at Tim’s face. Tim barely managed to move
his head, the spear point cutting his ear lobe.
"Ah! Damnit!" grunted Tim. He kicked his leg, sending the spear up.
Before the moogle could bring it’s weapon down, Tim stepped up and used
his sword to keep the spear aloft. He then grabbed the shaft with his shield
hand, the strap keeping the shield on his forearm. The two struggled for
control of the weapon. The moogle tried pushing against Tim. Moving his
shield hand upwards, Tim regrasped the shaft, then moved his sword from
holding the spear and swung it around, bringing the blade mercilessly down
upon the body of the moogle. The arms were severed clean.
Tim’s legs and lower body were sprayed in blood. The little moogle hands
still clasped the spear, as did Tim’s hand.
Planting his sword, Tim took the spear in his right hand, held it aloft,
then hurled it straight at an approaching moogle. The beast, wielding a
small shield and sword, took the spear in the head and fell backwards.
Tim regrasped the sword and studied his surroundings. A few of his men had
fallen back, injured and exhausted. But a good number still stood ready. Tim
fished out a potion and drank it. He then wiped his sweat covered brow.
Energy began to flow back into his limbs and the pain in his ear didn’t hurt
as much.
"We are just getting started!" shouted Tim.
"Hurrah!" shouted the men.
"We aren’t done teaching this moogle bastards a lesson!" shouted a
soldier.
Tim grinned evilly.
Softly, to himself, Tim said, "I am the High Lord of All That…" he stopped
and shook his head. Loosing his train of thought, Tim spied a new target and
advanced on a moogleboar, alone.
The frigate pitched and rolled lightly over the gentle sea. The sails were
full of wind, the sky clear, the sun bright, and the ship bustling with men
and activity.
On the main deck, Tim ambled along, his left arm in a sling, his right
bandaged in several places. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes had dark
circles under them. His uniform shirt was unbuttoned half way down and some
wrappings to a bandage were visible.
In the past two weeks, Tim and his men had fought the moogles in a steady
delaying action from Doma to the sea coast. Losses were high on both sides,
but the Alliance had been able to stem the tide of the moogles and allow
more and more refugees flee before the moogle horde.
Tim’s left arm had been strapped to a shield that whole time and had taken
so many blows that it was left bruised and battered to the point of being
useless. He could barely make a fist with his left hand. The rest of Tim’s
body bore the testament of many hard fought battles.
When Tim’s command had finally reached the shore, at a small fishing
village, they had decided to immediately leave. The locals were not totally
fighting or fleeing the moogles, so Tim decided to not make it an issue and
to save himself and his men any more stress and tension, and got aboard the
first ship that sailed by.
Two days had passed, and the ship was finally heading away from Doman
shores. Tim had decided to sail for Nikeah. For what reason, he could not
rightfully say. But when given the choice between South Figaro and Nikeah,
Tim felt the northern port was the place to go. Also, Tim felt the three
week voyage would provide a nice respite for him and his men.
Tim spied a spot between two cannons and went over to it. From a bundle
under his arm, he laid out his hammock, then laid down his blanket as a
pillow. Tim then, with difficulty, removed his shirt and rolled up his pants
(he had left his boots and socks below decks). Tim then laid down, his head
against the gunwale of the ship.
The gentle rocking of the boat soon soothed Tim. The sun soaked into his
pale skin and warmed his body. His sun-burnt face was shaded by the gunwale.
Soon, Tim fell asleep, his body relaxing, finally.
Jayel came on the main deck, hobbling on a cane. He had taken a nasty blow
to the leg by a sword, but would heal, hopefully to the point where he could
walk well. He spied Tim’s sleeping figure and studied his commander for a
moment.
"You are indeed a great man," said Jayel. He sighed.
Following his lieutenant’s example, Jayel himself had his bundle with him
and found a spot between two cannons. Having felt that he earned it, Jayel
set himself up a bed and laid down, soon falling asleep.
The captain of the boat soon walked along the deck, keeping the idle
soldiers busy with menial chores. But when he saw Tim and Jayel, he kept his
voice low and looked upon the two men.
"Such good men," said the captain. He sighed.
The captain continued about his business and Tim and Jayel slept the best
sleep they had in weeks.
--Sky
______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com
------------------------------------------------------------------------
GET A NEXTCARD VISA, in 30 seconds! Get rates
as low as 0.0% Intro APR and no hidden fees.
Apply NOW!
http://click.egroups.com/1/969/0/_/175046/_/951891759/
------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------- Headers --------------------------------
Return-Path:
Received: from rly-zc05.mx.aol.com (rly-zc05.mail.aol.com [172.31.33.5]) by air-zc01.mail.aol.com (v69.17) with ESMTP; Wed, 01 Mar 2000 01:33:51 -0500
Received: from hm.egroups.com (hm.egroups.com [208.48.218.15]) by rly-zc05.mx.aol.com (v69.17) with ESMTP; Wed, 01 Mar 2000 01:33:28 -0500
X-eGroups-Return: sentto-5708-53612-raumkatze2=aol.com@returns.onelist.com
Received: from [10.1.10.38] by hm.egroups.com with NNFMP; 01 Mar 2000 06:22:40 -0000
Received: (qmail 9992 invoked from network); 1 Mar 2000 06:22:38 -0000
Received: from unknown (10.1.10.27) by m4.onelist.org with QMQP; 1 Mar 2000 06:22:38 -0000
Received: from unknown (HELO hotmail.com) (216.32.181.31) by mta2.onelist.org with SMTP; 1 Mar 2000 06:22:38 -0000
Received: (qmail 81530 invoked by uid 0); 1 Mar 2000 06:22:38 -0000
Message-ID: <20000301062238.81529.qmail@hotmail.com>
Received: from 206.173.196.160 by www.hotmail.com with HTTP;
Tue, 29 Feb 2000 22:22:38 PST
X-Originating-IP: [206.173.196.160]
To: ffml@onelist.com
MIME-Version: 1.0
Mailing-List: list ffml@onelist.com; contact ffml-owner@onelist.com
Delivered-To: mailing list ffml@onelist.com
Precedence: bulk
List-Unsubscribe:
Date: Tue, 29 Feb 2000 22:22:38 PST
X-eGroups-From: "Sky Hall"
From: "Sky Hall"
Reply-To: ffml@onelist.com
Subject: [ffml] [MW] Fleeing the Horde
Content-Type: text/plain
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit