Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Interesting Treasure
Date:	00-06-16 19:37:26 EDT
From:	skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

  The campaign had been going well.
  Tim rode along with Evan, leading his main element of heavy infantry and 
spearmen. They
followed a road in land from the coast. To their right and left rode the 
rest of the Tim’s
command, following parallel roads. The whole unit was moving steadily 
northeast, clearing
that section of Doma.
  In the week since they had set out from Clam Cove, Tim had decided to let 
the fast cavalry
and Ricca’s Rangers leader the way, sweeping through the land. Tim had the 
slower foot
soldiers take the roads, with the light infantry sweeping the land in 
between.
  What Tim had not planned for was how successful Ricca’s men would be.
  Like a brush fire, Ricca and his men swept through the countryside, almost 
dragging the
cavalry along, who acted as their guides and scouts. They moved so fast that 
they often ran
right into moogle patrols, but were so battle ready they quickly slew the 
unsuspecting white
furred beasts.
  Tim would encounter a bend in the road or a blind spot beside a hill where 
a score of
corpses were spread out. The casualties had been very light, no Rangers 
seriously injured
and only Doman soldiers injured. So far only one fatality had been reported.
  Tim, however, did not know where Ricca or his men were, or how far they 
had progressed.
Little word was sent back, telling Tim of Ricca’s progress, but he assumed 
they were at least
a day or two ahead of Tim’s position at all times.
  Regularly, a scout would report a cache of food and arms that was under 
guard by a group
of rangers. And occasionally Tim’s men would find a force of moogles that 
had taken a
defensive position in a town, old fortress, etc.
  When a scout reported in a new sighting, Tim was relieved that he and his 
men would get
some fighting in.
  Following the scout, Tim discovered something he had feared. Riding 
through a grove of
trees, Tim came upon a large open farmland, with a manor house in the 
center. A few
buildings surrounded the house. There was a line of trees and a few hills 
making up a large
circle which surrounded the large stone and wood structure.
  A ranger rode ran over to Tim as he approached.
  “How many?” asked Tim.
  “We think there may be a hundred or less moogles in the house, sir,” said 
the man.
  “How many men do you have here?”
  “Twenty rangers and five cavalry, sir,” answered the man.
  Tim stopped himself from blanching.
  Twenty men were able to keep close to one hundred moogles bottled up. Tim 
was almost
not surprised.
  “Alright,” Tim turned to the scout. “Send word to Evan to bring the men 
here.”
  “Aye, sir,” said the scout, hurrying off on his chocobo.

  Tim surveyed the area. His men had formed a large circle around the manor 
house, and
Evan was hurrying between the squad leaders, instructing which group to 
enter which door
and which group to remain outside and water any escapees. Several archers 
had also taken
up position and were firing arrows into the building when a head poked out 
of a window.
  The Norland sergeant approached Tim. “Sir, are your men in position?”
  “Yes, why?” replied Tim.
  “Captain Ricca instructed me to move out as soon as you had taken charge 
of the situation.
With your permission?”
  Tim sighed. “Very well. You may go. But tell Captain Ricca I would like 
more
reconnaissance from him. I would like more messages telling me what he is 
encountering,
how he is progressing, etc. Do you understand?”
  “Yes, sir,” said the man, saluting.
  “Very well,” said Tim, returning the salute. “Get going and good luck.”
  “Thank you sir.” The ranger mounted and signaled his men, who quickly 
followed their
sergeant onto the road and out of the manor lands.
  Evan then approached Tim. “We are ready, sir.”
  Tim turned. “Very well, signal that attack.”
  Evan signaled a trumpter, who blew on his horn. And the attack was on.
  As Tim sat on his chocobo and watched, squads of men rushed the building. 
Several of the
spearmen had been left outside to guard the action, though a few squads had 
abandoned their
spears and shields for short swords and followed the heavy infantry into the 
building.
  As the men neared the building, a few arrows and bolts shot out from some 
of the windows.
Tim heard some of his men scream out in pain. At the doors of the building, 
impromptu
battering rams were brought to bear and the wooden doors were quickly bashed 
in. The men
swarmed inside.
  As Tim watched, he heard screaming and fighting inside. After a while, a 
moogle was seen
falling out of a window.
  “Probably thought he could fly,” said the bugler.
  After a while, the fighting ceased and men began filing out of the 
building. Evan
approached Tim and saluted.
  “All clear, sir,” said the leiutenant.
  Tim returned the salute. “Very good. See to the men and prepare to move 
out. We still got
some daylight left.”
  “Yes, sir.”
  Tim walked into the manor house.
  Doma had a few noble, very honorable families that acted as it’s ruling 
elite. And these
people were usually living the county seats of each section of Doma. But 
they would
accumulate wealth and purchase countryhouses to rest every now and then. 
However,
wealthy merchants were also known to have their own manor houses. But Tim 
noticed that
this house old and seen reconstructions through time, meaning it had been in 
a family’s
possession for some time.
  Tim strolled down the main hall, and took in the sight. A moogle corpses 
where struin
about, some on their backs, some on their bellies, indicating whether they 
fell fleeing or
attacking. Through a drawing room, Tim entered a parlor. He then followed a 
short hallway
and ended up in a study. There were several books still on the walls.
  Through the open windows, Tim could see his men in the courtyard, tending 
to a fallen
comrade. He turned in and looked at the study. He noticed that the light 
cast shadows
through the windows and iluminated the room strangely. Tim realized the 
light came from
the reflection off the moogle blood on the floor.
  Tim took notice of a bookcase on the side of the room. The wood in the 
base was slightly
warped due to a sword strike that sliced the edges of several shelves. Some 
of the boards
were bent down from the blow, and some of them seemed off balance. Tim 
studied the wood
and noticed that hte backs of the shelves were wooden.
  Tim then saw that hte wood in the particular section was pushed back.
  Fiddling with the shelf, Tim heard a creaking and then felt the shelf 
slide back some. He
pushed harder and the shelf gave way, sliding back. Tim pushed it back as 
far as it would go,
and saw a small hallway behind the shelves. Tim grabbed a candle from the 
outside room
and lit it, using that as light as he entered the secret passageway.
  Tim came upon a small room with a chest in it. The chest contained some 
gold, jewels, and
important papers. But Tim felt something important was in here. He had been 
drawn to this
room for some reason. He closed the chest, and looked behind it.
  In the small space behind the chest, Tim could see dustballs and cobwebs. 
He also saw
something else within it. Blowing away what he could, Tim reached in and 
grabbed the
object, pulling it out. Tim marveled as he realized he was holding a sword.
  “How’d this get back there?” Tim wondered aloud. He studied the wall and 
saw to brass
fittings on the wall. He deduced that they must have been hooks to hold the 
sword up.
  Tim set the candle on top of the chest and grabbed the hilt of the sword. 
He pulled it free
and thought for a moment that a blue spark of light emitted from the blade. 
He pulled the
sword free and studied it. The light was dim, but Tim could see in detail 
the fine edge, the
broad blade, and the skilled craftsmanship of the blade.
  Tim grabbed the candle and carried his discovery back to the study. He 
then quickly reset
the bookshelf, hoping that no looters or thieves would discover the secret 
room. The family
that owned this manor would likely need the wealth stashed there to help 
them rebuild when
Doma was reclaimed.
  Tim brought the sword to the window and studied it some more. It was a 
broadsword, the
blade wide and set with runic symbols upon it’s spine. It was light enough 
to be wielded in
one hand, but the handle allowed a two hand grip if necessary. It was the 
right length to be
worn on the hip.
  Tim gripped the blade and held it at the ready. Tim felt a sense of power 
flow through him.
This sword was designed for a warrior, to be used in combat, to slay 
enemies. Tim knew this
sword was to be his. It would help in the fight against the moogles.
  Tim put the sword in it’s old, dusty scaboard and left the study. His men 
were ready outside
and he mounted his chocobo and continued his march northeast.


--Sky

Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] The Warrior Awakens
Date:	00-06-22 04:48:35 EDT
From:	skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

  The men sat gathered around the fire.
  A fallow field made the camping ground for Tim’s battalion. Some furniture 
from some burned out houses and a several logs had been brought in for the 
men to use. Around one campfire, Captain Tim and his lieutenants sat, eating 
from wooden bowls and fixing their equipment and armor.
  The men were resting from several weeks of hard fighting. Tim’s orders had 
been the lionshare of the Doman conquest. He had to take the longest path 
and march his men to the most northern Doman province. And once there, he 
would await orders to begin the march south, towards Doma City.
  Tim had surprised himself by clearing his way to his destination two weeks 
ahead of schedule. Now the dragon riders were patrolling and the men 
preparing for what would be a major push south. Already two other battalions 
had taken up position along the coast left clear by Tim’s men. Tim was 
certain that the rest of the Doman army had arrived by sea and that things 
would be ready as soon as his dragon messenger returned.
  “Five thousand men to conquer what was once held by fifty,” said Evan. He 
had his armor off and was just wearing a woolen shirt. He held a wine skin 
in one hand and an oiled cloth in the other, absentmindedly applying it to 
the joints and chain mail of his armor.
  “Five hundred men took what was once held by five thousand,” said Jayel. 
“It can be done.”
  “But that is because of Captain Tim,” said another lieutenant, Bakkes. 
“His training and his leadership have truly paid off and we will soon be 
victorious.”
  Tim did not look up, but continued working on his new sword. Jayel studied 
his commanding officer. He had noticed a change in Tim lately. Where before 
the Captain had been almost timid in his plans and strategies, Tim now was 
more brash and aggressive. He was leading the men, instead of Ricca leading 
him. Because of this, Jayel had seen little of his commander till this week.
  Tim took a long look at his sword. In the time he had acquired it, Tim had 
oiled and sharpened it till it looked new. The blade shone with radiance in 
the firelight. The runic symbols seemed to glow.
  A flapping sound could be heard overhead and there was some commotion. A 
man ran up and saluted Tim, who returned the gesture.
  “Report,” said Tim, his voice commanding.
  “Sir, General Wang says the last of the troops have landed and all the 
forces have taken their positions. In a week’s time, we are to launch the 
general assault southwards. He also orders that we try to keep our front 
close to our neighbors, so that we may assist the others as necessary. 
General Wang also sends his compliments on your success, sir.”
  “Very well,” said Tim. “Get some food and rest.”
  “Yes, sir,” the man saluted and departed.
  “Gentlemen!” said Tim, he stood up, holding his sword underhand. Everyone 
in the circle turned their attention to Tim.
  “We are now ready to seize the ultimate victory for Doma. I have trained 
you hard and I have trained you well, and you will not fail me. You have the 
opportunity for greatness before you, and you will seize it. You are all my 
men, my strength, my power. I have molded you into a weapon as fine and as 
detailed as this sword.” Tim held the weapon aloft for emphasis. Everyone 
stared in awe.
  “Tomorrow, we march south. We shall slay every moogle that crosses our 
path. Nothing that opposes shall stand in our way. The citizens of Doma 
shall sing our praises as we march through the streets. The moogles shall 
know fear. We will spill more blood in this campaign then the reptites of 
old. We shall spill a river of blood as we march to Doma.”
  “But sir, General Wang wants us to check our progress, to aid the other 
battalions in their assaults,” said Bakkes.
  “The General was angered at me for disobeying orders and getting the help 
of the Norlandese Rangers, but he had train the army to be better. He then 
gave us the chance to prove our mettle, and to deal the moogles a mighty 
blow by allowing us to lead the assault against the moogles. The general 
wants us to succeed. He demands that we fight and that we achieve victory.”
  Tim was pacing about the fire, looking at each of his men in turn. Several 
soldiers had gathered round to watch.
  “We shall fight as the great warriors of old fought. We shall seize the 
greatest victory. No one will stand before our might, our power.
  “I have told you men before, about the power of battle. About the power 
that is held within us all. The energy that we have that builds and develops 
when we train as soldiers, as warriors. It is this power that makes us as 
Gods on the battlefield. When you battle, think not about dying, or fearing 
death or pain. But think about victory, success, power over your enemies. 
The moogles are weak against us. The moogleboars a oversized teddy bears. 
These things are not to be feared, but faced and defeated.
  “As great as your opponent may be, that opponent will not be as great as 
your power, your fury. For we are mad, are we not?” Several men assented. 
“Have we not lost our home to these invaders?” Several more men agreed. 
“Have we not come back to take back what is ours?!” Everyone around shouted 
in unison.
  “Then I say damn these moogles. Damn them to the darkest hell, for we are 
the plague of the Gods, come to swipe down upon the moogles divine justice. 
The moogles shall bleed from our swords. They will die upon our spears. They 
will quake at the sound of our boots upon the ground.
  “Remember that we are soldiers. That we are men. That we are warriors of 
Doma! Within you flows the blood of great champions and fierce warriors. 
Your ancestors have fought countless battles, have defeated hosts of 
enemies. We shall be no different. Why did we lose Doma in the first place? 
Because our warrior spirits were not awakened yet. We had fallen into lax 
behaviors regarding our history and our honor. But no more. We, the warriors 
of Doma, have been reborn!”
  Everyone gathered cheered.


--Sky


Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Blood
Date:	00-06-22 20:59:57 EDT
From:	skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

(WARNING: The following post contains graphic and detailed violence and 
bloodshed. If you are easily offended by battle scenes, don’t read. But if 
you enjoy hard core action and guys kicking ass left and right, read on, 
brother.)

  “Where’s that scout?” demanded Tim.
  He paced along the small road his men had stopped at. A stand of trees to 
his one side, open fields to the other. The passed through the trees, and 
Tim wanted to know what was on the other side. Dragon riders were covering 
the entire area, and were instructed to land and give reconnaissance to any 
unit they spotted. This restricted the movement of the dragons and their 
overall effectiveness, but gave the ground troops better knowledge of where 
the moogles where.
  Although they still had a few days before the general assault would begin, 
the moogles had already caught wind of the Doman army landing and 
undoubtedly had sent word to Vector. The moogles were beginning to abandon 
their posts and organize. They would soon have formations of hundreds of 
troops ready to face the Doman soldiers.
  Tim looked up at the sound of a dragon flapping it’s wings. The large 
beast descended in the field and waddled over a few steps. Tim walked over.
  “What news?”
  “Sir, I think there is a moogle force on the opposite side of these trees, 
probably marching south. And there are two more forces heading towards a 
crossroads with this road to the south.”
  “What size?” asked Tim.
  “They appear small, sir. I counted thirty moogles in each group, maybe 
more.”
  “Very well. Carry on.” Tim dismissed the Norland Dragon rider and walked 
over to his mount.
  “Ready to move!” shouted Tim. The order was carried and the men ready.
  “Ride!” ordered Tim.
  The captain immediately spurred his chocobo forward and was racing down 
the road at a good trot. The vanguard, who were supposed to lead and keep 
their commander out of danger, hurried to take their positions.
  Tim had sixty Norlandese rangers and cavalry with him. Ricca and Jayel did 
likewise. The three men formed the lead elements in Tim’s strategy of 
attack. The chocobos were the lightning strike element, shooting through the 
land and taking out any small pockets of moogles they encountered. The light 
infantry was right behind, scouring any potential hiding places and 
assisting the cavalry if they encountered any heavy resistance. Evan led the 
spearmen and heavy infantry behind, trying to catch up.
  Tim raced through the trees, his mind focused on a mental image of the 
terrain and enemy positions. From the scanty information the scout gave, and 
with no knowledge of the countryside, Tim was able to “see” what lay ahead. 
His intuition told him what to expect, where the enemy lay, how large their 
numbers where.
(Rob Zombie “Superbeast”)
  The trees they had been riding through parted and Tim found himself in 
large open fields, stretching to his left and right. Directly ahead, a 
moogle unit was marching south, away from Tim. A crossroads lay just ahead. 
To his right, Tim could see another moogle force marching for the 
crossroads; and to his left the same.
  Tim looked behind quickly, seeing that his men were quickly gathering up. 
Tim drew his sword from his back and held it aloft. Every soldier followed 
suit, the metal scraping from the scabboards.
  Tim could see the last of his men had arrived out of the trees.
  “Charge!”
  The men all gave a battlecry and urged their mounts forward. The chocobos, 
both the yellow riding chocobos, and the larger mountain ones ridden by the 
Norlanders, raced along the road. The pounding feets of the large birds 
began resonating into a rumble that filled the air.
  The moogles had been unaware of the humans till they heard the shouting. 
They turned and were just beginning to organize themselves when Tim’s charge 
caught them.
  Riding through, Tim focused on his targets. He steered his steed to the 
left and began circling the group. A moogle with a spear stepped out, Tim 
spotted the weapon and swung down with his sword. The spear went down, 
getting broken by a chocobo’s foot as it lay on the ground. Tim then swung 
his sword upwards, slicing into the abdomen of a moogle. The creature 
flailed, dropping it’s short sword, and stumbled backwards.
  Tim reached the end of the moogle unit and turned to confront it’s back. 
The moogles at the back were startled from the sudden onrush of the human 
troops. Many had their backs turned outward, and it was to this exposed 
flank that Tim slowed his mount and began hacking and slashing. One blow 
caught a moogle in the shoulder, another to the neck, another in the 
ribcage.
  Tim stopped and urged his mount back. The Doman forces had superior 
numbers and had quickly surrounded the moogles. The moogles were screaming, 
bodies were dropping. Tim could see that the moogle force was almost 
decimated.
  Tim turned to look at the moogle force coming from the right.
  “Ready men!” he called out. The officers began organizing their men.
  Tim did not wait, but saw that twenty men were ready to follow.
  “Charge!” Tim shouted, the battlecry going up.
  The Doman and Norland soldiers, making up the Alliance forces, charged the 
next moogle force. This unit had seen what was going on, and was charging 
down the road to aid their allies. At the realization that Tim and his men 
were coming after them, the moogles slowed and began forming a battleline.
  Tim looked back quickly. More of his soldiers were following from the 
first engagement, a few soldiers finishing up the panicked and wounded 
moogles. Tim could see that close to fifty of his soldiers were following 
him, twenty in a dense pack close to their captain. Tim was leading the 
charge.
  Tim leaned forward, his sword forward and up.
  “Ah-Yeah!!!” Tim yelled as he neared. He turned his chocobo, circling to 
the left, his right sword arm facing the moogles. He swung out, his sword 
strike taking one moogle in the face. Tim swung down, a moogle spear 
snapping in two before his blow. He swung up, a moogle getting cut on the 
chest, the creature yelping in pain, clutching it’s ribcage.
  A moogleboar loomed upwards, and Tim leaned back as the large beast took a 
swipe at him. The boar turned, following Tim, going for another strike, but 
a Doman soldier speared the creature in the abdomen. The boar screamed in 
pain and turned to look at it’s attacker. A ranger then speared the boar 
straight in the chest, puncturing it’s heart.
  Tim reached the back of the moogle unit and slowed and turned his chocobo. 
The moogles here were bewildered like their comrades, but at least were 
facing outwards. Tim swung his sword frantically as several swords and 
spears began thrusting their way at him. He deflected the blows and urged 
his mount back. The moogles were pressing their attack on Tim.
  A Norlandese ranger appeared behind the moogles and with his sword, 
slashed three moogle across the back. The moogles fell forward, gurgling and 
screaming in pain. A moogle turned and faced the ranger, but was quickly run 
through. Tim spurred his chocobo forward, the animal leaped a few feet 
forward. Tim then turned it back to his opponents and engaged the closest 
one, who had turned to face him. Tim deflected the moogles sword and swung 
low. The moogle parried and made a feint. Tim fell back, then returned a 
feint. The moogle swung up at this, and Tim kicked the moogle in the head. 
The smaller creature stumbled backwards, knocking over a comrade. The ranger 
finished them all off.
  Tim saw a Doman soldier on ground, being mauled by a moogleboar. The 
captain urged his mount forward and struck deeply at the boar, slicing into 
it’s kidney area. The flesh parted, even though the hide was thick and 
strong. Blood began spurting forth and the boar howled in pain. It turned on 
Tim and made a swipe with his paw. Tim had backed away after his attack and 
began leading the chocobo on. Like a bull and a bullfighter, Tim began 
teasing and playing the boar, leading it forward, flashing his sword before 
the boar’s eyes. A ranger appeared and struck his spear into the boars 
opposite side. The boar snarled in pain and turned on the ranger. Tim then 
struck forward, cutting the boar’s shoulder.
  Tim looked about. The moogle unit was quickly being dispatched, the third 
was nearing the crossroads. Then Tim saw another moogle unit emerging from a 
stand of trees to the south. This fourth unit looked as big as the others, 
and was marching, not having taken notice of the initial fighting.
  “Ready men!” Tim ordered. What officers not engaged or busy, took heed and 
began organizing what men were at hand. Tim led his chocobo around the site 
of the slaughter and faced the new moogle threat. He looked to either side 
and saw that twenty men were awaiting his command.
  Tim held his sword aloft and shouted, “Charge!”
  The force set off at a full gallop. They raced down the road and quickly 
neared the moogle force coming to aid their allies. Tim could see the large 
shapes of moogleboars looming up behind the initial ranks of moogles.
  Tim once again veered left and avoided some of the initial strikes sent 
out by the moogles. He kept veering left, and found himself beyond the range 
of the moogles. He veered right and saw that the moogles were spreading out. 
A moogleboar sighted Tim and began charging him. Tim pulled his feet from 
the stirrups and gripped his saddle with just his knees and feet. The boar 
neared him. Tim turned his mount away and jumped, his momentum carrying 
forward and over the moogleboar. The white beast was unprepared for this 
action and almost stopped in it’s tracks. Tim was pulling a somersault and 
had his sword aimed at the moogleboar.
  Looking at the white furred back of the beast, Tim struck, his sword 
slicing into the furred torso of the boar. The animal screamed as Tim’s 
momentum carried him forward and the sword savagely ripped through the flesh 
of the boar, and grinded against the bone of the hip. Tim continued to roll 
through the air and felt the sword slip free from the wound it had created 
in the boar. Tim’s body landed and rolled, crashing into a moogle.
  Tim felt a strong blow strike his back and looked over to see a moogle 
trying to stab him with a spear. The spear had struck the armor he wore and 
had deflected. Tim reached out his left hand and grabbed the moogle’s leg, 
lifting it and causing the moogle to trip and fall on it’s back.
  Tim looked around and saw another moogle charging at him, sword at the 
ready. Tim laid out, then rolled, avoiding a downward stroke. The moogle 
readied his sword and swung at Tim’s head, but this was deflected upwards by 
Tim’s sword. The captain then forced the sword forward, the blade catching 
the chest of the moogle, it’s sharp edge cutting into the skin, muscle, and 
tissue above the ribcage.
  A look of pain came the moogle’s face as Tim got to his feet, continuing 
to drive his sword blade against the body of the smaller creature. It 
stumbled back and landed on it’s back. Tim swung down, slicing the throat of 
the moogle.
  Tim turned and saw a moogle boar engaging a ranger. The ranger was on his 
feet and toying the boar, using the spear to prod and keep the boar at a 
distance. The boar swung wildly, trying to slap the spear from the ranger’s 
hands. The ranger managed to avoid this every time, instead giving the boar 
very bloody front paws. Angered, the boar growled, and leaped at the 
Norlander. The man stepped aside and away from the boar. He quickly drew a 
knife from his belt and stabbed it into the boar’s shoulder, near the spinal 
column. He pulled it free, a fountain of blood erupting from the boar. The 
boar turned on the man, and was greeted with a spearpoint jamming it in the 
face. The man twisted the spear, creating a crunching sound and causing 
blood to spill forth unto the ground.
  Tim turned and saw two moogles coming at him. He strode forward, 
determination in his steps. A moogle lunged forward with a spear, Tim 
grabbed the shaft with his left hand and pulled on it, causing the moogle to 
trip forward. The blade of Tim’s sword sliced into the moogle’s neck.
  Another moogle swung his sword, Tim stopped and deflected. He then swung 
down hard. The moogle brought up his sword to block, but Tim’s strength and 
height caused the smaller creature to buckle, and Tim’s sword sliced into 
the moogle’s shoulder. Screaming in pain, the moogle dropped it’s sword and 
fell to it’s knees.
  Tim looked about. Almost all of his troops were now gathered around him. 
The fourth and final moogle force was nearing them, the moogles and boars 
shouting at the humans.
  “Ready men!” Tim shouted.
  Every man to the last shouted in unison, “Ready sir!”
  Tim hurried through the mess of dead and dying moogles, some still 
fighting, and his men. He reached the open ground and faced the oncoming 
moogles.
  “Can we do it, sir?” asked a Doman soldier. He had a bloody bandage on his 
arm and was breathing heavily.
  “I am the Lord of All That Kicks Ass!” Tim said. The soldier took a deep 
breath and resolution dawned on his face.
  “Yes, m’lord!” said the soldier.
  “Prepare to die, moogles!” shouted Tim. “Charge!”
  Tim ran forward, leading his men.

  The sun began setting, and the tired men settled down to camp. Cookfires 
were begun, and the men began to eat.
  Tim sat, holding a poltice to his neck. He pulled away the bit of moss to 
see how much blood was seeping out of his wound. He reapplied the moss and 
held it there, looking about, he saw a company of light infantry come 
through the trees. The men quickly hurried over to Tim’s camp.
  The sergeant saluted Tim.
  “Sir!”
  “Greetings, Sergeant Virges,” said Tim, returning the salute. “How are 
your men? Tired?”
  “No sir,” answered the sergeant. “We encountered no moogles today. It seem 
like they are pulling out and heading south.
  “Aye, they are.” Tim looked about the fields. “Since you men are not 
tired, you can take guard duty. And see about burning those corpses.”
  The sergeant saluted. “Yes, sir.”
  Tim returned the salute and went back to his campfire. He sat down and 
inspected the poultice on his neck again.
  “Finally, the blood has stopped.”


--Sky