The Golden Reach

DeletedUser

"Very well. I will go to jail but, only if you admit it wasn't me who killed your mount and 2 of The People get to escort me to my cell so that you don't pull a fast one on me also I want to be able to have visitors at my cell once per day and shorten the sentence because it wasn't me that killed your mount." I said. "I have learned my lesson. Here is the pig." I said as I handed over the pig. You may take me away. Who will escort me there?"

 

DeletedUser


Eldar'o laughed "Yes, it is the curse of youth to make mistakes. The young Dylan takes that a step further however. I recall stealing chestnuts, but I don't think we ever attacked a member of the Cold Cape Militia, did we?"

When she whinced, Eldar'o could have sworn he felt physical pain aswell. He wished that he had been able to slence the second guard without so much ruckus, Mosi would not be here, in the healer's hut. Eldar'o inwardly kicked himself and swore that he would never put anyone else's life in danger again. Especially Mosi's.

Dylan would serve his sentance, hopefully a short one, and then come back reformed and with his lesson learned, hopefully. It was not a habit of the people to attack Cold Cape Militiamen, doing so to the wrong person could provoke a counter attack, one that the people could not stop. It was a lucky thing that the boy had attacked one of the good natured Militia, otherwise he would be dead already.

Eldar'o tried to focus on Dylan, tried with all his might, but his mind kept drifting back to the woman laying on the cot in front of him. She looked beautiful to him. Her back was straight. Her hair was smooth, on the pillow, where she lay. Eldar'o sensed afection, but he wondered if she felt for him as he did for her.

Eldar'o gently laid a hand on Mosi's blanket covered stomach and looked into her eyes. Raw emotion glinted in his own, like unshed tears "You are of help to me, Mosi, you always have been."
 

DeletedUser

Kalor looked over the force he had assembled with great anticipation. For reasons he did not entirely understand, the Slaver guildmasters did not allow him to gather an army of more than 23 men. Thankfully, their weapons, armor, training, skill, experience and spirit were all superior to those of the Outcasts. Hopefully, they would be a match for the countless Outcast warriors they would inevitably face. With the force gathered in front of him, he began to brief them:

"Men, this is your finest hour. This is the day you have been saving your heaviest weapons and armor for. You have been selected from hundreds of Slavers for this mission because you are the strongest, most competent men that the Slavers guild could offer. Today, you will reap revenge on the Outcasts for their unjust and unprovoked attacks on our brothers, which killed four of our best men and injured several others. Today, I want you to kill at least eight Outcasts, two for each of our fallen brothers, plus another two for each one of us that falls today. In other words, if we all die, there must be at least 56 dead Outcasts lying before us.

That brings us to today's plan. There are 24 of us in total, divided into six squads of four men each. Red, Gold and Green squads will attack as the first wave. Purple squad is equipped with shotguns, and will arrive next to tear the enemy apart. Blue and Orange will follow up. The focus of today's mission is to kill Outcasts. If you wish to take prisoners, you may, but that is not the objective. This is the day you've been waiting for. Today, you shall finally partake in an honorable battle, one that Golden Reach has not seen in far too long. This is a day that shall be remembered by generations to come! If the lesson is learned, then no living soul will ever again interfere with our business! Most of all, the Outcasts will rue the day they challenged the Slaver nation!"

Cheers erupted from the force, and they became deafening battle cries. They poured onto the boats they had hired, and set sail. Night fell as they headed out, and they sailed on under the cover of darkness. Kalor passed out innovative devices that he had built: lengths of pipe filled with gunpowder and shrapnel, sealed at both ends with a fuse inserted. Before the apocalypse, such a device would be known as a "grenade". They landed a ways inland from the sea via the river, and ventured into the thicket that separated the riverbank from the northern edge of the Outcast village.

Sneaking up on the village, they began their attack with a volley of makeshift grenades. Some turned out to be duds that did not detonate, but most functioned as intended, causing explosions that sent shrapnel flying everywhere. Screams were heard as chunks were torn out of buildings and other structures. The first wave opened up with their various firearms, sending clouds of lead tearing through the village. The battle for revenge had truly begun.
 

DeletedUser

"GO GO GO GO!!!" James yelled out. He rushed his men forward as Kalor screamed out orders to the rest of the men. James and his squad of men charged forward into the village. He was the commander of Gold squad. He was the first in. And probably, they were not gonna be coming out.

James and his squad of three other men rushed in. James pulled out his pistol and lunged behind a wall of a destroyed Outcast building. He blindfired into the fray of Outcast warriors that tried to rush back and attack. He yelled at the other three men to raid the building next to him and to search for new "meat".

"I'll hold the line!!! GO!!!" James yelled out. He pulled out his rifle and sword and rushed into the heat out battle. He jumped into the air and thrust his sword into the nearest Outcast. He pointed his rifle to his right and shot an Outcast point-blank in the face. The battle raged on around him as he fought on.
 

DeletedUser

Just as dark fell and I was about to leave the village to spend my time in jail explosions and screams started up from every direction. "Cold Cape isn't so friendly with the Slavers. i said maybe you and your small army can help The People defend our town?" I suggested. "Your reward would be the bodies of dead Slavers everywhere. Think about I said taking my weapons from the militia officers saddle bag. I'll be back after I bust some Slaver heads open otherwise I'll die either way I'll serve my sentence. Your choice defend,run, or hide?"
 

DeletedUser

Kalor blasted away at fleeing Slavers with his AK-47. The battle was going well, possibly better than he expected, but he was careful not to get carried away. Purple squad had arrived, and was employing their shotguns, sending chunks of Outcast flesh flying from close range. Kalor tried to count the Outcast bodies, knowing that he would have done enough damage once the number reached 56. He had lost none of his own men so far, which would mean he would have done enough with an Outcast body count of 8. Regardless, he kept firing, and more Outcasts fell.
 

DeletedUser13682

"Well, this was a great dinner, thank you," Roland said to the elder. "Now, I shall take the boy, and may God be merciful on him." Roland got up to leave, bowed slightly to the elder, and walked outside. Having grabbed the rope, Roland walked over to where the boy's tent area was, but before he could reach it, a white object fell from the sky, and landed near him. Curious, he picked it up, and found it to be what would have been known as a nail bomb in ancient times. Of course, Roland didn't know that. All he knew was that if it exploded, he would be a dead man. So, he did what anybody would do, and chucked it as far away from him as he could. Now, he was lucky, this one was a dud, but many of the others that were now falling from the sky weren't. Bombs were blowing up everywhere, spreading deadly metal pieces everywhere, maining any who were in the injury radius, and killing anybody closer than that. After the bombs were done exploding, there was a moment of silence. Somebody asked, "Is that it?" Ironically, a second later, she got shot through the head.

"Get down! Get down! Find a weapon, and fire at anything firing toward you! Find cover!" Roland was attempting to yell, but of course, it it hard to yell over a multitude of firearms, most of them the vile automatics and semi-automatics that were deemed unclean. "You, get over here!" Roland yelled, as he grabbed a fast looking boy. "Take this," Roland said, and handed him a hastily written note. "Run it to Cold Cape. You know where that is? Good. Take it there, give it to the guard. If you hurry, we'll save your village." The boy nodded, and ran as fast as he could, disappearing into the distance, toward Cold Cape. "Rally together! Fight as a unified force! You have vastly superior numbers to these people! Use that advantage and win!" At one moment in the battle, Roland thought he saw the boy Dylan, telling him to fight, but it didn't matter. By the time he did recognize Dylan, the boy was gone. Now it was Roland's turn to fight. He whipped out his revolvers, emptying them into oncoming, what were now identified as slavers, and killed 3 of them injured 4 of them, and possibly hit another 6. With no time to reload, Roland pulled out his bayonet, 16 inches of cold steel blade, and fought by hand. After bringing down another 2, a horn was heard, the horn of the Cold Cape Militia. It had worked! "Hear that slavers? Surrender now, and maybe you won't all die. Either way, the battle is lost to you!" Roland smiled as the sound of horses and deer came closer, and another body slid off from his bayonet.
 

DeletedUser

James ran at an Outcast equipped with a bayonet. He swung his sword to attack him, but the Outcast blocked it. James held his blade against the man's bayonet, keeping him and the Outcast at bay.

"Your tougher than all these other pieces of meat. You'll make a great slave once I take you down," James said with an evil smile.

The blood of more than 9 Outcasts ran down James' face and his clothing. He knew by now, the rest of his squad had taken as much "meat" as they could and brought them back to the boats. He knew that this one would be his prize for the battle. If he didn't die that is. He kicked the Outcast in the stomach and jumped back. He spun his blade and got into a battle stance. He sheathed his rifle and yelled at him.

"Come and face me meat!"
 

DeletedUser

"If I survive this battle, I'll kill the guildmasters personally for not letting me bring more men", Kalor thought, having just lost a third of his force to a single enemy, who he then realized was a Cold Cape militia. He heard the horn signaling the rest of the militia, and he sprinted back to the boats. He grabbed one of the boat's captains, and shouted in his face, "I don't care what the guildmasters said, go back to Slaver Island and get more men! That's an order!". The boatman complied, and the other boat's crew followed after.

Kalor then dashed back into the fray, tearing at the Outcasts with his AK-47. "Don't let up!", he barked. "As long as there's air in our lungs and blood in our veins, we haven't yet lost!". He killed several more Outcasts, making sure to make up for the men he had just lost. He found the militiaman that had killed his men dueling with the leader of Gold squad. He smacked the militiaman upside the head with the butt of his AK-47, knocking him to the ground, and delivered a swift kick in the jaw to him. "Sorry to spoil your fun", he said to his comrade, who had been bragging about taking the militiaman as a slave, "but now's no time for small stuff. Shoot to kill!". He charged back into the crowd of fleeing Outcasts, now hacking away with his machete, blood and chunks of gore flying from his blade.
 

DeletedUser13682

Suddenly, just when Roland was ready to call it quits, a sword equipped man came and attacked him, Roland was easily able to block the attack. "Why don't you slavers just give up?" Roland asked. "The militia will be here any minute." Of course, the slaver paid no heed to Roland's warning, and kept fighting him. He noticed that the slaver was covered in blood, but that was all before the slaver said that he would make a great slave. "I don't believe in slavery, boy. Therefore, I can't be a slave." Roland blocked another swing from the slaver's sword, only to get kicked in the gut. Though the air was gone from him for a second, Roland got up nearly immediately, and became ready to fight again. "Boy, I ain't no peace of meat. I am a human being, and a human being that won't be your slave. You hear me?"
 

DeletedUser

James sighed.

"You damn well spoiled my fun," James said. He charged back into battle with the militiaman. He tackled him with his shoulder into a building. He kicked him square in the face and then began to brutally beat his face in with his fists.

"NOW I'M HAVING SOME FUN!!!" James said with a laugh that would have a chill go down your spine. He got back up and spit on the militiaman.

He gave a small chuckle and pulled out his P90.

"Stay away from him slaver scum!" an Outcast yelled out.

He tried to run up and attack James from behind, but he was too good for that. He pointed his pistol without even looking and fired a single bullet into the Outcast's face.

"Your men are pathetic. Truly, and utterly, pathetic," James said with an evil grin.
 

DeletedUser

Kalor turned around, and found that the militiaman had gotten back up, and was fighting again, blabbling about how he didn't believe in slavery and other nonsense. "You won't make such a great slave when you're dead!", Kalor shouted, swinging at him with his machete. He hacked at the militiaman with raging fury, since he had caused a great inconvenience to Kalor, forcing him to kill ten additional Outcasts to maintain his policy.
 

DeletedUser

I fought hard and blood smeared me all over. This was my chance to prove myself. Suddenly I heard the militia horn and thought we were saved until I looked over the water and saw something that shocked me.

"Slaver reinforcements!" I yelled out.
 

DeletedUser13682

"You know," Roland said, when he had been tackled into a building, "I think that boy I came here for is a better fighter than you." Historians debate whether this prompted the slaver to knock Roland down, and beat his face, but either way, the slaver did, which actually saved Roland, for where his head was a second ago, a machete appeared, wielded by another slaver. "You... hit... like... a... girl..." Roland told the slaver between hits. He was unable to do anything for a moment, until a poor Outcast sacrificed his life, possibly for Roland. Roland grabbed his bayonet, running it through the slaver's chest, and pulling it out, next slashing the other slaver's ankle. Getting up, Roland found some shelter, where he was able to reload his revolvers, and prepared for anybody who might try to get him while the militiamen were closing in.
 

DeletedUser

Kalor fought on, and heard an Outcast shout "Slaver reinforcements!". He looked back, and saw that the boats with reinforcements were already arriving. "My, that was quick!", he thought, delighted by the boatmen's swiftness. With his rear protected by the reinforcements, he could now focus on the more immediate threat. He climbed up to the bridge and fired his AK-47 into the oncoming militia, killing their mounts and causing them to be thrown to the ground.
 

DeletedUser

James was able to quickly jump back before the blade thrust into his chest. The slash that aimed for his leg hit his plated shin guard. James held his sword in his left hand and his pistol in his right.

"Come out militiaman. I'm gonna gut you myself, then eat your heart for dinner tonight. I'll eat some fava beans with it too," James said with a laugh as he made a slurping sound afterwards.

James looked at Kalor and then back at where the militiaman was hiding.
 

DeletedUser13682

The little 'promise' made by the slaver disgusted him. "Barbarians," Roland muttered to himself. Just then, another militiaman ducked into cover with him. "Good news, and bad news sir. We have arrived, 24 of us, but they already killed our mounts, and one man is injured. There is intense fighting throughout the village, but I believe we are slowly making progress. More men armed with heavy weapons, including that large cannon will be here shortly." Roland thanked the boy, and yelled out to the slaver. "If you want me, why don't you come and get me. Don't worry, I won't bite you!"
 

DeletedUser

Kalor turned around to see a militiaman fleeing from cover near where the first had hidden, and Kalor felled him with a single shot from his Glock. He turned back to the bridge and emptied is clip into the other militia, still halted by the mount casualties, and dove back into cover before they could react. The Outcasts were now in full retreat, and he began to count the bodies. They had most likely killed enough Outcasts to consider the mission a success by now, but he would have to deal with the Cold Cape militia before he could retreat to the safety of Slaver Island.
 

DeletedUser

Brad had been in the assalt on the Outcast village. Brad took his machete and slashed at a Outcast's head. Moving on to another outcast when he saw a Cold Caper. By him he saw a young outcast. A Outcast surged at Brad but he finished him with a single shot from his P90. With a machete in one hand and a pistol in te other, he pushed on. Then he felt a pain in his shoulder. He turned to see he had been shot in the shoulder. He turned and saw the young outcast with a weapons pointed at him. He hadent been out of the fight yet. He took cover and returned fire with his Ak-47.
 

DeletedUser

Mosi's eyes were on Eldar'o and there was a warmth in the room, just as the first pipe bombs flew over the walls of the Outcast village. The deafening consusion was almost enough to cause Eldar'o to black out entirely, but he stubbornly hung on, as the fighting began to break out. Eldar'o's hand tightened reflexively on the blanket covering Mosi, as he was thrown backwards out of this chair. He was tangled up in the blanket for a few moments, before he was able to stand.

Eldar'o had time to stumble to the window, before a second pipe bomb landed just in front of the glass. It exploded, as Eldar'o ducked for cover. Shards of glass and shrapnal from the improvised grenade cut Eldar'o's face in superficial spots, before he was able to get out of the way.

The room started to become hot again, but not as it had before, but with fire, as the roof of the Assaou's hut caught fire. Timbers began to fall in the main room, squashing innocent people into an early grave.

Through the falling dirt and debris, Eldar'o found the side of Mosi's bed. He place a hand on her chest and felt for a pulse, there was one. With all of his might, Eldar'o thrust his hands between Mosi and the cot and lifted her bodily up. There was a mighty crash as he did this, as more timbers fell in the next room over.

Mosi looked unconscious in his grasp and her motionless face filled Eldar'o with hate once more. His inner fire was stoked to an all time fury, as he used all of his weight to push the door down, into the main chamber, and saw a mother and her newborn baby dead, a fallen timber having skewered them both through the chest.

It was too hot inside to stay, so Eldar'o had no coice, but to run for the exit. Mosi was clutched to his body. He realised, as he broke down the door to the outside, that with his every movement, the stitching that kept the wound on her stomach closed was tearing at her flesh. Her blood began to filter down through the layers of clothing and bed clothes and soak his hands and chest.

Tears began to roll down Eldar'o's face, as he turned away from the fighting and ran to the south, away from the oncoming slavers. Away from the death. Away from his people.

Mosi was more important to him.

Ahead of him, a group of Slavers began to walk up the street. They used machetes, firearms and their barehands to kill and maim anyone whom they could see. One slaver tore a newborn babe from a mother's grasp, before throwing it against a wall. The child's head was smashed open and a life was extinguished forever.

Eldar'o knew, even without Mosi in his arms, he woul dnot be able to charge a group of four slavers and expect to live. Instead he turned and ran down a path, created by two homes erected close to each other. Looking back over his shoulder, he watched as the Slavers marched past, towards their orgy of death.

As soon as he felt he could, Eldar'o left the alley and continued down the street. He could not help, but step in pools of congealing blood, there was no way clear of it. Bodies lay broken and beaten in the middle of the street, against a background of burning homes.

People cried out, their hands outstretched from burning buildings, for help, but when they did, Slavers smashed the hands trying to free themselves from the homes. A small paradise had been crushed this night, because the ego of a few men could not handle a defeat.

He ran. Eldar'o ran as fast as he could, while holding Mosi. The smell of burning human flesh spurred him on. The thought of what would happen to Mosi if they were caught gave strength to his battle weary frame. He ran.
 
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