Subj: [ffml] [MW] Bloodier
Date: 00-08-23 09:36:29 EDT
From: skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to: ffml@egroups.com
To: ffml@egroups.com
The morning air was brisk and cool. Tim had his eyes closed, his mind
clear, nature and the coming autumn his only thoughts. Taking in a deep
breath, Tim could smell earth, lumber, and sweat.
Opening his eyes, Tim came back to reality and took in the sight. He stood
atop an earthern wall a half mile long which straddled the road between Doma
City and Southvale. A few hundred yards before the wall was the bridge to
Southvale, having been rebuilt by the moogles across the broad river. The
wall was the first defense against a very large moogle force occupying
Southvale, which had also been rebuilt since it's initial destruction by the
moogles.
Tim walked along the wall to the west, examining the makeshift ramparts
and work going on.
The wall was five feet high and seven feet wide and made of solid earth. A
trench had been dug before the wall, and this was between five and four feet
deep. Tim knew that the moogles themselves could not easily breach this wall
unless they had the aid of ladders and possibly rope.
To buttress the front of the wall, logs had been brought in and pegged
together, forming a wooden front to the wall. This would shore up the wall
in cases of rain, and since the logs where vertical, make it difficult to
scale. Fire was the only concern, but with the plentitude of dirt and water,
Tim felt confident that any incendaries hurled by the moogles could be
quickly extinguished.
The top of the wall had wooden posts sunk in it, and between these lumber
boards had been nailed in place. This small palisade was a foot away from
the front of the wall, giving a small walkspace before the wall. The front
of the small fence was then plastered indiscriminantly with metal shields
and plates, these nailed into the wood, providing a good, strong, and solid
defense for the defenders.
The back of the wall ramped down to the camp, but bricks were being made
and slowing replacing the ramp to shore up the other side of the earthern
wall. Tim felt certain that soon, he would have a strong square wall
surrounding his makeshift fort.
Tim neared the corner of the wall and saw Evan working. The burly man was
carrying two large logs from a timber wagon and carrying them under each arm
to the wall. He walked gingerly, but kept steady and managed to set the logs
in position. He then hoisted a log up and secured it against the log to it's
right, while a carpenter with a magically powered drill went to work making
a hole in the log to place the wooden peg.
Tim chuckled to himself, then spoke down to Evan. "Try not to wear
yourself out, Lieutenant. I don't want your arms to get sore."
Evan grinned broadly. His dark hair and mutton chops enhanced the sparkle
in his eyes and his white smile. "It is no worry, sir. I used to carry two
logs around in the morning all the time back on the farm. That and a sack
full of stone, for firewood and to make fences."
Tim grinned back at the man.
"How faires Lady Nighthawk?" asked Evan, wiping his brow.
"I think she is well," said Tim. "I sent Trui and a covered wagon to her
to carry her to the front. Not sure if she took the offer or not. But I hope
she is alright. I had a bad feeling when I left her that night, like a
nightmare had come back to me, but it passed." Tim looked down and shook his
head.
"I hope she is well. Those avariel do a dickens of a job in scaring the
moogles.”
“Aye, that they do.”
Tim looked about, studying the camp his men had made, the trench and mound
that formed the outline of the fort to be. The square was much larger then
Tim's small force. But Tim knew that later more men would be coming through,
and since Southvale and this fort would be the key points of contention, he
had better make it able to hold enough men. Tim also did not want any moogle
forces surrounding the fort in any way. This war had to have a front, and
the enemy had to be faced in one direction. The Domans had no more time or
man power to fight multiple fronts.
"I wonder if Doma City has been taken yet," pondered Tim. He did not say
it loud enough, but those men near him also took a moment to look north and
ponder the fate of the rest of the army and the capital city.
"I hear the moogles launched an assault against Hiel Keep," said Evan,
heaving the other log up and into position. "General Kat and her Henriksens
were able to keep them at bay. Though I'm surprised there are moogles to the
east of Doma."
"Aye, it is strange," said Tim, looking south. "Probably an expeditionary
force for the lands to the east." Tim paused. "Trying to make a break back
home, or maybe throw off our plans. Make us think there was a new moogle
army to the east."
Evan looked concerned. "Do you think the Henriksen army can defend our
lands if a new army does appear to the east?"
Tim shrugged. "The Henriksens are still a mystery to me. And whether their
General has the intelligence and ability to lead her troops is the real
question."
Evan nodded, watching the carpenter hammer in the last peg to the log.
Tim looked inside the wall and saw a peasant woman carrying laundry for
the soldiers. Tim was glad the local villages had not been destroyed, and so
was able to call upon the local population for aid. In particular, their
blacksmiths and carpenters.
Tim descended the wall and went to his command tent.
"Sir, the moogles are coming."
Tim leaped from his desk where he had been writing and ran out of the
flaps of his command tent, nearly knocking over the messenger. Racing down
an aisle of tents, Tim reached the base of the wall and sprinted up the dirt
slope to the top. There he caught the edge of the palisade and stared out.
Across a few hundred yards of open ground, along the bridge and open water,
to the open ground before the walls of Southvale, Tim could see a moogle
force mustering. Moogles were marching forth from the Southvale gates and
from the large moogle camp surrounding the fortitifed city.
Tim turned and saw the messenger running to catch up to him. "Sound the
alarm and have the troops prepare for battle, go!" The messenger, still
sprinting up the slope, turned on his heel and headed back down, racing down
the aisle.
Tim, walking backwards, tore his eyes from the moogles starting to form
into units on the opposite bank. The colonel of the Doman division raced
back to his tent and put on his armor. When he emerged, his diamond armor
gleamed in the clear light of the midday sun.
The camp bustled with activity. Civilians packed up their belongings and
began hurrying away. Archers carried armloads of quivers to the wall.
Soldiers put on their full body armor. Engineers readying their engines.
Tim hurried back to the wall and took a position in the center. He watched
the moogles which were now beginning to cross the bridge.
Around Tim, men took their positions. A line of archers manned the wall,
and knights began filing into the moat below, crouching down so as not to be
seen. Tim rested his hand on a post of the palisade and licked his lips.
"This will be a good fight," he said aloud.
The moogles crossed the bridge and began forming a circle perimeter,
expanding the diameter as more moogles crossed the bridge. Tim guessed the
moogles had around two thousand troops. That meant this was a sortie to test
his defenses. Tim would have to show the moogles what to expect.
"Shall I raise the flag, sir?" asked a sergeant.
"No, not yet. Wait till after we defeat them. So they know why they lost."
Tim grinned evilly. The sergeant returned the grin.
The moogles had almost completely crossed the river and changed their
formation from a circle to a battle line almost six hundred abreast. The
moogles bore shields and spears in the front lines. Large shapes scurrying
behind the lines told Tim that their were moogleboars present.
"Signal the cavalry to come out and wait on the edges, let the moogles
know they can't escape to the east or west," Tim ordered the sergeant. He
relayed the message to a trumpter, who signaled the dragoons out of their
forest hiding places and into the open. It was now apparent that the moogles
were boxed in.
Undisturbed, the moogles blew their own signal and began marching forward,
a steady drum beating out the cadence for the march.
Tim chuckled and turned to his sergeant. "Get the drummers to start
beating their drums. Let these moogles know who has a better sound system. I
want our drummers to beat." Tim emphasized the last word and the sergeant
grinned.
Soon, the human drummers began beating out their own cadence rythym. It
started out a little slower then the moogles, but was obviously louder. Tim
could feel the post his hand rested on rattling softly to the bass. The
rythym slowly picked up in tempo, building as the tension built.
(Metallica "Battery")
The moogles continued to march, having crossed halfway across the open
space. Tim raised his hand and shouted, "Artillery!"
Archers readied their bows and ballistas and catapults were primed. Tim
dropped his hand. The artillery unleashed a furious onslaught. Arrows,
bolts, and rounded stones carried through the air and struck about the
moogle line. Tim had some fire oil, but would save that for a later
occasion.
The moogles stood up well to the battery, even though the screams of the
dying and wounded erupted from the moogle lines. The battleline continued to
march forward, their own drummer continuing his steady tattoo.
The ballistas and catapults soon could not fire anymore, since the moogles
were too close.
"Dark knights!" shouted Tim.
A dozen soldiers with black tinted armor stood on the wall, evenly spread
out, and drew their swords. They held them at the ready.
"Dark wave!" shouted Tim.
The Dark Knights unleashed a dark, ripplying wave of energy that swam
through the air and struck the moogle line in pockets. Many moogles were
knocked back, some fell to their knees, dark energy swirling over thier
bodies and creating tremondous pain.
Tim grinned. The moogles were beginning to falter in their march.
Climbing over the palisade, Tim stooped down and then jumped down into the
moat. The ten foot drop was no difficulty, but the additional forty pounds
of armor made Tim's legs and feet ring in pain. He awkwardly stood up and
moved over to where Evan stood, his longsword stuck in the ground before
him. He had his head raised slightly to observe the action.
"Are you ready, lieutenant?" asked Tim.
Evan turned to Tim and closed his mouth and swallowed. "Yes, sir."
Tim stared into Evan's eyes and removed his gauntlet. He grabbed Evan by
the shoulder and spoke harshly to him.
"Come on, Evan. Where is your fighter's spirit? Where is the power that we
all know you have?" Tim grabbed Evan by his collar and shook him. "You are a
soldier, a warrior. You have come here to taste blood. Don't tell me you are
a coward now." Tim slapped Evan across the face. "Are you a god sent here to
destroy your enemy?!" Tim slapped him again. "Are you the lord of the
battlefield?!" Tim slapped him again, making Evan's cheek turn red. "Answer
me!"
Evan's left hand came up and brushed Tim aside, as if he were nothing, and
his right hand took the hilt of his longsword. Pulling it from the earth he
raised it aloft and gave a mighty battlecry.
The stunned soldiers around them watched the show and then joined Evan in
his battlecry.
With a grunt and a look of pure determination, Evan charged up the slope
of the moat and into the moogle battleline. The rest of the soldiers surged
in a wave after him.
Tim grinned to himself as the berserker rage he had created in Evan gave
him the power to charge into combat. Tim then heard Evan's sword cleave
through wood and iron and flesh.
Tim drew his own sword and climbed out of the moat. He took witness of the
carnage. Although the moogles outnumbered the human soldiers nearly three to
one, the artillery and surprise counter-assualt from the knights hidden in
the moat overwhelmed the hardened moogle troops. They had now broken
formation and were fighting in melee with the human troops.
Tim turned to the wall. "Tell the cavalry to advance and to stop any
moogles from escaping either to the sides or back to the bridge." The
sergeant saluted and hurried off.
Tim held his sword and shield at the ready and entered the fray.
Tim's men had been at rest for a while. Not fighting for a week and not
having marched for three days, the humans had renewed energy and vigor. The
moogles themselves must have been waiting for a fight for a long time, since
they seemed to leap at their opponents with zeal.
Tim walked through, following the advance of his men. He had not been in
combat for weeks now, and felt rusty and in need of the exhliration of
battle.
A moogle had wormed it's way forward and was dodging offhand swings from
soldiers. Tim spotted the creature and advanced. The moogle's short-sword
came to the ready and feinted. Tim riposted and lunged. The moogle tried to
dodge, but tripped and got sliced in the ear. Dark moogle blood began
spurting forth and down the side of it's head.
The moogle attacked, swinging it's sword up and then low. Tim deflected
the high swing, and then stepped away from the low, countering with a
downward strike which struck the moogle's sword solidly and sent it to the
ground. Disarmed, the moogle paniced and tried backing away, but a human
soldier struck the moogle from behind, nearly cleaving it's head off.
Tim advanced further into the battle, helping one soldier dispatch a
troublesome moogle with a spear by simply grabbing the spear with his shield
hand and letting the soldier take the killing blow.
Tim felt very confident and strode further into the thick of the battle,
where his men where pushing around, bumping into each other as they
desperately tried to fend off their moogle opponents. Then Tim came face to
face with a moogleboar. The creature had just charged a human soldier,
sending him rolling into a group of other humans. It then spied Tim and saw
the gold cord on his shoulder, signifying his commissioned officer rank.
Tim stood ready, his shield before him and his sword in position. The
moogleboar charged and Tim side-stepped, letting the moogle's charge deflect
off his shield. Tim could the strength the boar had as he barely managed to
keep the boar at bay. The moogleboar turned quickly made a swipe at Tim,
it's clawed hand aimed at Tim's face.
Tim barely caught sight of the strike through his helmet visor and leaned
back, taking a step. Hearing a scrape, Tim realized how close he came to
missing the blow and swung his sword back.
The moogleboar avoided the attack and made another swing. Tim raised his
shield to block and nearly lost his arm as the boar's strike hit Tim's
shield with such force that it nearly knocked the shield out of his grasp.
Tim grunted and this time charged the moogleboar. His shoulder struck the
ribcage of the boar and caused the heavy animal to almost lose it's balance.
Stunned by the attack, the boar stared at Tim. In this moment, Tim stepped
back and swung up with his sword, slicing the hardened skin of the boar. As
the blood from the boar touched the blade of Tim's sword, Tim himself could
almost feel his strength grow within himself.
Tim swung again, an even blow directed at the boar's face. The boar ducked
and stepped forward, snarling and snapping it's powerful jaws. Tim stepped
away and delivered a kick to the boar's jaw. The animal grunted in pain and
leaped at Tim.
The animal struck Tim in the body and Tim fell on his back, the boar's
paws on his shoulders. Tim was trapped and had the breath knocked out of him
by the blow. The boar leered down at him, it's fangs glistening and dripping
drool. It opened it's jaws at Tim threateningly, then a look of shock came
over the boar's eyes. The creature scrambled off and Tim saw a knight with a
spear drive the boar off.
Tim tried getting to his feet, but his sore shoulders could barely make
his arms work. A knight grabbed Tim by his arm and helped him to his feet.
Thanking the man, Tim surveyed the area.
He could see moogles falling and running around, his own men slaughtering
the lot of them with impunity. He looked at the bloody ground.
"We'll have a bloodier mess later, I'm sure. But today we truly kicked
ass." Tim let his voice boom, and those soldiers nearby cheered.
Tim stood on the slope of earth behind the wall and surveyed his men.
"We lost five men today, three seriously injured, and ten injured but will
be able to return to duty. You men did well today. We fought a superior
force and decimated them. Not one fled across the bridge. You men are all
hearby commended for your success."
A cheer went up among the ranks.
"And as a sign of appreciation, I would like to present this gift to
Lieutenant Evan for his fine service and the excellent training which he has
given to you men."
Two men came forward, carrying a small litter with a cloth covering it.
They stood before Tim and he unveiled a suit of armor. On the breastplate
was the image of Alexander.
"May this sacred armor serve you well, Evan."
The leiutenant walked forward and touched the metal, feeling the power
flow through the metal and into his body.
"Thank you, sir."
Tim smiled broadly at Evan.
--Sky
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Date: Tue, 22 Aug 2000 15:35:12 PDT
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Subject: [ffml] [MW] Bloodier
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