So I do the only thing I can possibly do at this moment, end his suffering; I draw my carbine and shoot the dying boy’s head, which is soon followed by a kick to the face from the knight in front of me.
…
“The only son of Caesar that has the right to be a successor is the son that has served as a Knight of Remas.” It was something that was taught in every school house. A Knight was a hero, he was what every young boy aspired to become. But these knights that were standing in front of me weren’t real knights; they weren’t the war heroes that every soldier cheered for whenever they rode into battle. These were the arrogant scum that everyone secretly or som
“This was your first battle wasn’t it?” she asked as she pulled out the 3 inch long piece of shrapnel lodged to my right leg. I grunt in pain of course. “Yes” I reply while trying to hold in the pain. She laughs a bit and applies a concoction of herbs and plant jelly on the wound. “So, what was it like?” She asks. The moment those words enter my ears, I vividly remember the events that had transpired that day, the smell of Lurti’s vomit, Trosdig’s whistle, the heat wave that accompanies every cannon shot and finally the feeling of a sword going through the insides of another man. “You’re about to vomit aren’t you?” she asks me. “What?” I reply, slowly realizing the anxiety and fear beginning to crawl its way out of my mouth in the form of the oats and fish I had earlier this morning. “
“You think it’s odd how the whole camp is not worried after those attacks?” Pal’lacon asks me as we lazily look at the storm slowly filling up the valley with water. “A few angry unpaid mercenary barbarians turned bandits are not things to be worried about, I bet the others are more worried about missing Mistress Raletia’s dance show back in Iasi. After all, we did survive the Persians.” I reply. Pal’lacon nods his head and lights up his pipe again. “That’s not what worries me, I just don’t want to watch another bleeding farm boy get shot in the head” “You weren’t the one who shot him, old man” I reply while throwing stones at the mud. “I’m sorry Molag, I understand you’ve never done that---” “Done what? I’ve killed dozens if not hundreds before I killed that boy. What’s another nameless person on my list?” I find myself rather surprised at the outburst. “Sorry, it’s just
“Pup! Wake up! Get up you stupid turd! We have only a moment to gear up until the Captain arrives!” I wake up to the sight of Varkii’s mouth spewing saliva at my face. A headache pierces through my head as I pick myself up off the moist dirt. The rain was still pouring but the camp was in full alert, a dozen Centurion whistles could be heard along with the shouts of their owners to accompany them. I could hear Trosdig’s rough voice in the background, ordering the 46th Cohort to gear up. I pick up my shield, tighten my sword belt and wrap my rain cloak around me. Varkii tosses me my helmet and I catch it. A piece of shrapnel that was still stuck to it pricks my hand, ma
“Reform lines! There’s another one!” Trosdig screams while trying his best to balance himself on a pilum, while aiming his carbine at a single large barbarian. The man charging at us was covered in a large brown cloak and he seemed to be nearly twice the height of a normal man and he was covered in burning bolts from the cluster shells. The barbarian wasn’t carrying any weapons at all and he ran in a limping manner. I join the others and fire at him, but nothing seems to faze him. The gunners also begin firing at him, but he just kept lumbering on. One soldier throws his pilum at the barbarian hitting him on the left shoulder, it barely seemed to hurt him. “Throw pilums!” Trosdig screams again. A few more pilums hit the barbarian, but he continued to move. A cluster shell detonates above the barbarian, coating him in more burning metal bolts and yet he still lumbered on.
I wake up inside a horse drawn wagon beside other wounded. I pick myself up and stagger out of the wagon, the smell of factory smoke and urine and feces fill the air, city smells we called them. I guess we had returned to Iasi then. “Molag!” it was Lurti calling. “You’re finally awake” He says while handing me his water bottle. “I was out?” “Nearly a whole day, you’ve been asleep since we left Gravlin Valley.” “What happened?” “We had to fall back, the Company lost a hundred men.” “What? They were just damned scavengers?” “I know but those strange weapons, the ones that charged at us. We were not prepared for that.” “Providence’s name, what were those things anyway?” “I don’t know brother, let’s get you to the tent, we need you rested.” Lurti brought me back to the squad tent where we first stayed during the end of the Long War. It was as messy and unkempt as when we left
Trosdig then blows a whistle and in comes a number of wagons filled with barrels and crates filled with drink. “Courtesy of the taverns of Iasi, You’ve earned it!” The men cheer in unison as our benefactors split open the barrels and crates revealing ale and various bottles of liquor. Like the rest of the company I join the revelry as we are thrown bottles of rum, wine and pints of ale. But I see something strange in the corner of my eye, a man was shaking hands with Trosdig, it wasn’t the Captain nor was it any of the other Centurions. It was a man who was sporting a bright red sash over something that resembled Praetorian armor. But then I realize his face is familiar, it looked like the man the Captain was riding with back in Gravlin Valley. It was somehow unnerving, but then the curiosity disappeared as both my brothers throw me a bottle of my favorite liquor, Blueber
“From our lord and Emperor Caesar Randall Tiberius, Supreme Leader of Remas and Recipient of the People’s Senate. ‘I hereby Declare a State of the War in the Remanian Empire. Our War with Persiais over, but we face another foe. A massive rebel force that seeks to raise anarchy, death and to ensure Destruction of all that we have fought for. They have assaulted the cities of Londana, Stantum, Barcelos, New Capua, Rendra and the Capital herself. They have slaughtered many good Remanian citizens and are robbing us of our hard earned peace. Let us remind these fools of the Might of Remas. Glory to the Legions, Strength and Honor and Roma Eterna’ “ After finishing Captain Gilderscrowns ordered us to be ready to mobilize in two hours. Just like that, we were officially bac
After forming up, a group of officers led us to a set of habitation tents near the perimeter of the Southern walls of the fort, from which we were split up and assigned to the tents by squad. “Get some rest, you’re moving out before dawn and meeting up with the rest of the legion at the main fortress.” Says one of the Officers, we salute in response and begin unpacking. Trosdig had again released me as scribe after remembering my bad arm and took in Frederick this time. Once we settled by the tents, Cub passes by and I strike up a conversation with me “I thought there was a meeting?” I ask him “