Horse General

A Story by crusad3r

a short-story(not yet finished) by a heroic general leading his armies against much more numerous foes.

"Walking down by murky waters, he realized there is no way to cross the damp, yet bewitching swamps of Luisiana. His company trapped in a hell of a battle towards Augustgrad, with no mechanized support or aircraft. Yet he was not without hope, his faithful companion Dovahkiin kept him safe wherever he led. Be it the training fields of Chaur, or the deep, blood-soaked trenches of Bismor. A man without faith in God he was, yet he always wondered how such a miracle be possible. His beloved Dovahkiin mustered in his master the will to live everytime the situiation got a little dire. Anyways, getting stuck in the swamp was a nightmare for any good tactician. It slows your speed by so much, and if the landmines or the rain of bullets won't get you, be damn assured that swampsharks and other mundane beasts will gut you down. So he did the rightful thing, by his own accordings, and marched on in the gutter, as Augustgrad would surely be overwhelmed would he not be there in time. Pedaling for days on the back of his horse, he scouted ahead of his company for sign of enemy activity, yet kept a good radio contact with his men who needn't i say, were haplessly on foot. So he went on and on, passing thru all sorts of iminent dangers that would make a man run for his life, and finally reached the end of the nightmarish waters.

There lay the desacrated bodies of GoodWolf company who were supposed to provide supplies for his own company, named Doomseekers. Why would anyone in his right mind chose such a machiavelic and black name you would ask. Well, the answer is simple; prime example would be the fear that the name instilled in his enemies. Secondly, he had an impecable reputation of getting his men alive, safe and sound, thru hell and back, while riding the back of his Dovahkiin, like a businessman would read the newspaper. It all seemed so... eerie and unnatural, even if he repeatedly disestablished the questions regarding any preternatural powers he might have had, other than his incredible feat in leadershit. In any account, reaching the GoodWolves tents proved a shocking site for him and his troups, hellborn as they were. The enire company was not only decimated, but lay in a deep pool of blood. More to the horror of witnesses, the female victims were brutally decapitated and within their flesh, they bore the carvings C.L. As big as he was a leader, so he was in size. But neither size, n'or manhood could keep him on his horse as he saw the shock instilled in his men. He rushed to the nearest medic in hopes that he could save some of his bretheren, a vainful effort. As crucified in awe as they were, they pressed onwards, Augustgrad being 40 miles away. They had to cross the main town of Eddsmuth and the 46th highway. So he pressed forward, not before alowing his men to mourn the vicious deaths of GoodWolf company.

Dusk was slowly lurking his way in the day, so he rushed his men into Eddsmuth to find shelter and fresh food for his men. The huge, metallic fence around Eddsmuth was made in an attemt to quarantine the place 14 years ago from the degenerates that kept breaching its streets. As they neared the inner set of fence arounc Eddsmuth, they inhaled a deep stench of decay and malevolence. This was very confusing to them, as they found Eddsmuth shut down, with burning crosses in the distance as they neared the student's quarters. Pushing north, they noticed a man who bore a close resemblance to a bear standing tall against a cross, with nothing but a blunt hammer in his hands. As Eddsmuth was an odd town, and the general being an outsider, he thought of all this as a local banquet, some urban festivity of the students. But as his company approached the strange bear-man, he was deafened by a battleshout so terrifying it made a sixth of his company seek refuge. Needless to say, the bear-man lunged at the general with his hammer high, but was shot down before he could get in range. As the noise of the gunfire echoed thru the streets of Eddsmuth, another bizarre, yet welldressed and grimmed man appeared before him. The suitsman offered them safe passage out of the city as he had no quarrel with them. Hearing from his scouts that all the buildings were barricaded with at least a hundred men, he unwillingly accepted the offer of this strange suit as the surprise advantage was nullified by the shout. But as he neared the exid of Eddsmuth on 46th highway, he heard the same battleshout as before. This time, without no warning, his company was taking heavy fire, being caught in a small street with no flat land. As he could not properly identify the assailants in this engage, he ordered his men into a larger space, so to have maneuvrability.

As his company ducked the bullet rain into open space, he was met by 4 tanks blocking his escape onto the highway while the unkown assailants kept firing at them. In a flash of bravery, he charged towards the tanks but he dissapeared in a smokescreen while the rest of his men followed in his steps. Morning after in Eddsmuth, 300 dead soldiers lay in the deep, blood drenched street. So was the story of Hartman who led his company to safety uncountable times, yet unable to escape the massacre"

-I almost felt asleep during it, yo. You should try using a litte less fiction in it, said Ben.

-Hey, it's not my problem you don't have a vivid imagination, Boone responded.

-All of you worms, in your tents, clean your boots, brush the s**t of your uniforms. Tommorrow we make for Augustgrad.

-Sir,yessir.

As the moon slowly faded away, the sargeant woke up the soldiers of 41st Company faster than the rising sun. All geared up, marched towards the city of Augustgrad, where the great battle lay before them. It was not only a matter of bloodshed, as some have said, it's a matter of independence, liberty and price for the RW Utopia. A shining beacon in dark hours, Augustgrad was the place where Utopia was formed 100 years ago by long and hard-fought battles. A century ago, they fought the same enemy they face now; the high-evolved democratic states of the West. Now this might not seem a bad term from where you're standing, but rest assured that democracy has proved to be a faulty and much less colourful rulership than the Utopians brought to the table. As such, the slang for democratic states became "SIEL" or "CL", short for Colourless.

"In old times, the now-defunct USA was ruled by a collective of people set on blind idealism, that of turning life in just a simple equasion, with no variables to be left for randomness, just constants that could be controlled by the gathered toughtprocess of elite human beings. Slowly, the Europeans felt the dark, but vivid nightmare where USA was aiming at, and marched like a bull across the ocean into the old middle and south Americas. Swedes, in particular, were very fond of the new war, priding themselves as the new vikings who will re-discover the peace and tranquility of the place. As such, the RW Utopia was formed, a conglomerate of states such as: Great Britain, United Ireland, Germany, Italy, the nordic states and almost all of east European countries, minus Ukraine that is. And seeing how every European state was governed by a right-winged politic, they proclaimed themselves as Right-Wing Utopia, a place where every man has the right of chosing his own colour in life, where the old-forgotten hatred was put aside and fueled towards a great enemy to private life and humanity.

So in short, the Utopia defeated CL a century ago at Augustgrad and forced them into a seemingly well-thought plan of re-colouring the old Americas, with teeming forests ripe of game, vast unshattered plateaus of greeness and sky-scraping mountains white of snow and wisdom. Eventually, a new leader rose to proeminence in the CL, a savior, so he said, of the long-forgotten democracy. Only this time, CL was more prepared and able for war than they ever were. Leader forced all the colour of the land into a blood-hungry warmachine destined to erase and rewrite the history of the past.

We, my fellow freemen, must drive this pestilence out of this world, for if we do not, we shall live an eternity in a state where no man or woman deserves to be. A state where there is no time yet there is no destination, and man is captive into his own mind. I say to you, this will not happen. This we will not allow to happen. We ride to Augustgrad and we shall bring the Colourless giant to its knees once again. Death or glory!"

-Wow, that was a real shocker, whispered Gregor.

-Yea man, back at the academy they thought us half this s**t was fiction, responded Ben.

-Well now, afterall, seems vampires and ghosts outta be real and we got to put some f*****g colour into those undead beasts.

-Hellyeah!

-Both of you, shut your moth and keep moving, we're not even halfway to Augustgrad and you two are scared shitless, said Boone in a commanding tone.

As the 41st Company marched in full armor to meet the nightmare of Augustgrad, in a faraway bootcamp the full might of the CL masterminds was gathering. The engineers, as they were called by fellowmen, were scheeming the battleplan.

-I highly suggest we hammer them from South and East, as our scouts report that Utopia troops have not been sighted there, Anton proposed.

-It can be a good plan Anton, but we have no knowledge of the enemy's foothold beyond Augustgrad. We can be walking into a deathtrap and the beauty of it, they won't even sweat it.

-The more we debate the more time we give the enemy to strengthen their position. I've had enough of your variables left and right. What we know for sure is that we outnumber them 3:1 yet their soldiers feel no fear. It's as if i'm leading their troops. Our battery will soften the enemy camps at south and east of Augustgrad while we make a charge right through the gate of it.The words of the Leader were wise, as Utopian positions east and south of Augustgrad were on hold, right in range of the CL artilery.

As the 41st platoon reached the 20 milestone to Augustgrad, they were left with a dreaded sight and a bitter taste, as they saw a gruesome sight. Along the highway, the mutilated corpses of the GoodWolf company were nailed to crosses. It seemed like an abomination, with lots of men losing their bearing and vomiting on the ground at the sight of the macabre. Boone, with a serious and vengeful tone said:

-So the legends are true. GoodWolf company, the heart of Utopia was cut down. I shall make it my goal to behead the goddamn devil who did this.

-I have to say Boone, this doesn't look like the work of Colourless. Even such an ensnared and mindless beast wouldn't have done such an atrocity, Ben replied with somewhat confidence.

-I didn't asked for the b*****d's name, I just asked for his head.

-Gents, I regret i don't have some toiletpaper to whipe your sorry asses but we got to press onward. Augustgrad needs us. And rest assured that every motherfucking psycho who touched GoodWolf company will be brought to justice.

The sargeant did his best to keep the men in line, but a nightmarish feeling surrounded them. Most of them were in a trance, still mesmerized and horrified by the hellbound encounter.Boone was uneasy himself. He was a tough as nails man, hard pressed since he was but a child to be a calculated and idealistic man. Yet he suffered a great loss in his life, that turned him into a much silent man than he was before. His only friend, Ben, was slowly beginning to doubt Boone as a spy for the CL as his withdrawal from the world has only made him more harsh and ruthless. But alas, Boone was a hero of the Utopia, a legend on the field. Where he led, others would follow undoubtedly with absolute disregard for their own safety. Everyone knew this, and they all respected Boone, cold and distant as he was. Especially the Sargeant, whom he shared a not so happy past, where Boone had to make a rought survival decision against his orders. So the 41st company was mentally shaking. Questions about GoodWolf company and Boone's allegiance started to arise, about the iminent defeat of Utopia at Augustgrad and their humanity in such an atrocious war.

Later that day, 41st approached 2 miles of forest that separated them from Augustgrad, where history would be written.

-Only 2 more miles lads and we'll be right in hell's core, shouted the Sargeant.

-Hey, don't you feel something odd about this forest? Like there's more to it that the eye sees, whispered Ben towards Boone.

-I can smell the CL miles away, they are not present here.

-I'm just saying, something is out of place here.

-Yea, your mind.

-Well, f**k you too Boone. If we do get a surprise present, be sure to put it on your paycheck.

-Enough you too. Making too much noise is always bad and I really don't want to be the artist of our demise, said the Sargeant.

As 41st made it's way thru the forest, they were being watched. Not by God, but by a terrible adversary. One that has no mercy towards the weak and impure. Just as the story of Hartman and Dovahkiin goes, one man in a well-tailored suit greeted them in the thick forest.

-A good day to you gents. Now before you go spraying me down with bullets rest assured that my men are going to cut you down. I have a proposition for you, and daresay, you already accepted it. That is, if you value your lives. So please, follow me.

More and more rumors and gossip were circulating in 41st company, but they slowly followed the Suit, who seemed to be talking quite a lot with the Sargeant. As they reached a make-shift bootcamp, they saw the CL acronyms sprayed all over. At that moment, they thought the enemy has done a such a good trickery that out here in the middle of nowhere, their deaths would be insignificant with noone close-by to hear the shootings. But things soon began to clarify.

-As I said before, i have a proposition, said the Suit. My contractor, or shall i say, master, wants you to get safely into Augustgrad. Yes, you heard me right. As a matter of fact, I shall give you a quarter of my own troops for safety purposes.

-Identify this... master of yours, shouted the Sarge, angrily.

-Why good sir, please, relax. No harm will come to you or your company if you just do as you're told. But since my master no longer wished to remain anonymous, i shall reveal his identity. He is the great Caesar of our time, a long lost bloodline from the ancient Rome has now resurfaced and He, will be the artist of this aeon. Your battles amuses him, but he still wishes the demise of Colourless. So, since you are the enemy of our enemy, you must be our friends. And I daresay, what better confort can a man have in life other than knowing his rears are guarded by the might of Caesar's Legion.

In a moment of silence, Ben said with a raised tone:

-You murdered the GoodWolf company. You charred their corpses and inscribed them like cattle. I knew Colourless couldn't be such a heartless b*****d.

-Well, as you see, your dear and dead GoodWolf company were working for my master as well. And, when they refused to bring notes about Hartman's where abouts, they were delt with severly. Rest assured, GoodWolf was a company that had no principles in life and no greater ideals other than own satisfaction and bloodshed, and we gave it to them nonetheless.As the 41st took time to digest the story, from the woods another great entity made its presence known.

-I see you still remember that lie, Edgar, said Hartman. The one you told me too before i blew your heart out. But a heartless b*****d like you don't need one.

41st was in such a revitalizing shock at seeing Hartman and Dovahkiin live, that their battlespirit was up and they were ready for kicking some Legion asses. Seems like Edgar didn't expect this one twist, as Hartman surronded him with his own men and 41st being in the center, the Spiritbreakers company of the Legion was swiftly annihilated and left to rot. Edgar was the only one who made it in the hands of Utopia, as other Legion soldiers either died or suffocated by the weight of corpses. Hartman took its time and went to the 41st company and greeted them properly.

-Good evening boys, i see you made it this far so Augustgrad must not be far. I spent a lot of time and effort into finding Edgar, but somehow he seemed to have found us first. Rest assured men, that me and my fellow soldiers will be charging alongside you into Augustgrad. But first, I want to know who wants to skin this b*****d alive.

-As i die in suffering, so you shall be remembered in the history books as a martyr of suffering once Caesar gets his hand on you, said Edgar, obviously unshaken by what was about to happen to him.

-Yea? Well you can greet him in hell, worm.

With a swift strike Boone cut Edgar's head off, to the surprise of Ben who knew him a much more calm man. Nevertheless, with the smaller foe out of the way, the remnants of Doomseeker company and 41st began a slow but steady and confident march towards Augustgrad, where they would meet their enemy straight on.