by Caiaphus
They had come without warning. The sun was still setting when they struck. It was strange, thought Von Strohm, these creatures hated the sun as much as they hate us. The monsters had taken the small outpost by surprise. The small defensive structure was called Fort Hohler Mann. It was a basic bastion. Tall spiked pine trunks formed the wall. Inside this basic barrier, was a parade ground, a shooting range and sleeping quarters.
They were caught without warning. Men were eating and drinking when the wave of flesh struck. There was a mad panic, as surprised men struggled to draw their weapons, and create some semblance of defense.
Colonel Kurt Von Strohm saw the look out cop a black missile to the chest. The black burst of magic spread out over his body, and seemed to seep into his flesh. The man looked up, seemingly unhurt, and smiled in relief. Then, his hair started to bleach grey, and his skin wrinkle. He looked at his hands, hands that had been, seconds before, whole and young, now old. He opened his mouth to scream, but instead, his face contorted into a horrible grimace, and he fell over dead. His remaining flesh kept aging, eventually shriveling away, leaving a grinning skull.
Von Strohm wasted no time, he ran out of his office, grabbing both his pistols, and sword from his desk as he went. He strapped his sword belt on, and cocked his pistols as he sprinted towards the weapons locker, his breath catching in his throat, the chilly evening air choking him.
“I’m getting too bloody old for this” he though irritably. He reached the locker, and grabbed the handle. It didn’t budge.
“Bloody thing is locked” He cursed, and, not bothering with fumbling for the key, he simply leveled one of his pistols and shot the lock off the door. He threw the now useless pistol on the ground, and drew his other one. He spun around, took rapid aim, and shot one of the monsters, as it attempted to shamble across the parade field. He watched in horror as the creature hit the ground, seemingly dead. Then a black cloud appeared over it. The cloud seeped into the dead monster, through its nose and mouth, and it pulled itself back on its feet. Its jaw and most of its neck had been blasted off, but still it came on.
“By Sigmar” Von Strohm breathed, and said a quick prayer. He turned back to the locker, and pulled out another two pistols, stuck them in his belt, and selected a large heavy spear.
As he ran out of the weapons locker, he snatched a rifle from the bench, cocking it as he ran. He jumped down onto one knee and shot another of the creatures. The shot caught it in the stomach, guts spilled out the wound. The creature flew backwards from the force of the shot, but amazingly, it got back on its feet and kept walking. He cursed and barked out an order to the soldiers dashing to the locker.
“Grab rifles and spears. Form a defensive perimeter around me.” The soldiers were well drilled and trained, and like a well oiled machine, the score of men found rifles, pistols, and long shafted spears. As one they fell to knees, their stomachs, and just generally threw themselves into firing positions.
“FIRE” screamed Von Strohm. As one they fired. Some of the creatures fell, but many kept walking. Guts, intestines, and in one case a head being dragged behind them.
The soldiers started to reload, and as they did, Von Strohm turned to one of the soldiers, quickly looked at his rank badge, and addressed him.
“Corporal!” he boomed “Take another man, run to the village and warn the civilians. As of now, it is under martial law. Get everyone out. Try and raise some Free Company whilst you’re there.”
The Corporal nodded, grabbed another soldier, saluted and dashed away. Away from the tight group of soldiers, and away from the approaching horde.
“Sigmar protects.” Whispered Von Strohm, as they ran off. He turned to his soldiers. He knew they were good. For years they had trained together, eaten together. Now they would die together.
“We’re in for a long night” He said to no one in particular.
-0-
By now the sun had well and truly set. The only light in the sky was the moon and stars. It was a full moon that night. If Von Strohn had have been the type, he would have noticed that the winds carried a strange smell. They didn’t smell of the normal late autumn smells. Decaying leaves, rain, and the natural smells of the world preparing for winter. No, that night, the winds had the smell of something else. Magic. More specifically, the magic of Shyish. The wind of approaching death. Death would reap a bitter harvest that night. The winds do not lie. The fusion of the amazingly high levels of Shyish in the wind, the approaching winter, and the full moon would have given an Amethyst, or even a necromancer, great power. Unnaturally so.
But, unfortunately, Von Strohm was a soldier, had been one for almost 30 years. He wasn’t the fanciful type, and distrusted magic as much as any pious priest. He liked to be able to see what he was fighting, and to be able to see what he was fighting with. No fancy Shamcy magic wands for him. Good honest Dwarvish steel. That was how Von Strohm liked to fight. Only the final execution of a spell is visible. Before the fiery blast, or the black mist that the mortal eyes views, there is a battle in the mind of the castor. A fight within its soul. Sometimes the battle lasts seconds, sometimes many years, and sometimes centuries. Von Strohm didn’t know much about fighting in the soul. His fights were with steel, and with flesh.
“Pity” though Von Strohm. “One of those wizards would come in real handy now.” Even though he distrusted them, he could not deny that sometimes their spells were used to deadly effect. The power to cast a powerful fire ball, or spontaneously rout an enemy force should never be underestimated, and many battles had been won with the aid of wizards, and those like them.
The monsters were hanging back, just outside of rifle range. Loitering about near the quarters. They were silent. Not making a word as they just stood there. It was unnerving. Not even a guttural scream. They stood completely still, and completely soundless. Occasionally one would shuffle forward, only to be shot down. The soldier’s rifles were just as effective as before, but this time it was five or six lead shots into each creature. And that took its toll. It had been a good 10 minutes since the corporal had gone to warn the village. The colonel considered falling back, but knew that he needed to give the civilians as much time as possible to get to safety. That was a soldiers job.
“Strange,” thought Von Strohm, why didn’t they attack the village first? Surely it would have been easier to kill poorly armed, poorly trained civilians than professional soldiers. A thought flashed across his mind for a second,
“What if this is just a splinter force, and the main force is attacking the village?” but he quickly dismissed that thought. These were monsters. Creatures without thought or logic. They acted on instinct. At least that was what the lecturer from Altdorf had said. Von Strohm had had to attend some lectures three summers ago from some prissy idiot civilian, who had never seen a battle, and would have wet himself if he had. The colonel thought a quick prayer that the idiot had been right, and repented of all the criticism he had said about the man.
“Sir.” the voice snapped Von Strohm out of his thoughts “What are your orders?” Von Strohm turned to face the man. He was a private, reasonably young, and handsome enough, although he would win no beauty pageants. He seemed tough, capable, and strong. Von Strohm struggled to remember his name, he probably hadn’t mucked in with the men as much as he should. He gave up.
“Whats your name soldier?” He asked gruffly.
“Carpathia.” He replied. “Constantine Die Carpathia.”
“Well Carpathia,” started the colonel, “my orders are to sit tight, keep firing, keep reloading, and keep alive. For as long as possible.” He looked into the eyes of the soldier. He was so young. Too young to die. The Colonel saw fear in those eyes, he saw anxiety, terror. But he also saw determination.
“Yessir” came the reply. “A bronze coin says I outlive you sir” The colonel couldn’t help but smiling.
“Very well soldier. A bronze coin.”
-0-
Corporal Kleautz ran down the road as fast as his highly trained legs could carry him. The young private was keeping up fairly well, which was in itself, no mean feat. Kleautz was the fastest man in the outfit, and had won several inter-regimental races. this greatly boosted the soldiers of Fort Hohler Mann’s morale, and wallets, and as such he was a popular soldier. It wasn’t often he had to buy his own beers at the Mess. Admittedly, he was a sprinter, and the 2 mile hike to the village was a sprint in no one’s book, he was still very fit. Fitter than even the average piston legged soldier.
Kleautz was a Corperal after only being in the service 9 months, and was rising through the ranks quickly. He was a career soldier in the most literal sense of the terms. He had joined the ranks of the Glorious Imperial army, not out of a sense of patriotism, but because that was where the money was. You could make in 2 months what most civilians made in a year. Only the ones with political friends, or with smarts, made more dough than a soldier did. Truth be told, Kleautz had neither. Sure, he was smart, but not smart enough to make it in a world where only the really smart made real money.
So he enlisted at the tender age of 17. Technically this was too young, but the Major in charge of the enlisting service didn’t seem to care. Kleautz’s parents didn’t care either. If their son wanted to serve in the army, win fame and glory, and be kept out of trouble then who were they to argue? Also, it was one less mouth to feed, and with 6 brothers and sisters, there were a lot of them.
They were about at the halfway mark, and were making good time. Kleautz thought it about 3 minutes, and with no interruptions, they should easily make it to the village within 10.
“Piece of strudel” He thought. He didn’t want to think what was happening to the men he left behind. By now they were probably dead. Or worse. Kleautz wasn’t a religious man, but he was still praying quietly between breathes. He didn’t exactly know what those things where, but he had his hunches. Kleautz may not have had many smarts, but he wasn’t stupid, and what smarts he did have where shrewd ones. Also, his hunches where usually pretty good.
If they reached the village in another 4 or 5 minutes, he should be able to evacuate the civilians in less than 20 minutes. The people round these parts didn’t keep much, and he didn’t think many of them would muck around. The threat of an invasion by enemy forces did that to a person. Sure, there would probably be a couple of trouble makers. The usual, the mayor, who was annoyed that his busy schedule (corruptive activities) had been interrupted, and some do-gooder civilian who would dispute the realness of the situation, he would probably say something like:
”How can we be sure this is actually happening? For all we know, you could be some young soldiers having a prank. Where is written authority?”
Stupid Civilians. But, then again, Kleautz had martial powers didn’t he? So if they got too stupid, he could always shoot them.
If he made it out of this alive, there would probably be a promotion in store for the young corporal. Provided, naturally that he didn’t shoot anybody. Of course, promotions also included pay rises as well, although that wasn’t the real reason he was doing it now was it? He was fairly confident that his heart would still be beating at the end of this night. He had no idea how right he was. It didn’t appear that these monsters could move very fast, and he didn’t think that one of them would be capable of mounting a horse. Yes, he was safe. So he thought.
“Piece of Strudel” he thought again. That was when the wolf appeared out of the shrubbery and launched itself at his throat.
Getting paid wasn’t the only advantage to being in the army, and quick as lightning Kleautz brought his pistol up and shot it in the jaw. The wolf’s momentum still carried it through the air and it hit the corporal dead in the chest. Kleautz fell to the ground, and brought the pistol up to hit the beast, but by the time it hit the ground it was already dead. Kleautz struggled to get the dead weight of him, and the private reached down to help him. Together they managed to heave the large wolf off him, and Kleautz sprung up and drew his other pistol, his useless one already on the ground. Kleautz cursed at himself for not remembering shot and powder, and instead took out his frustrations on the wolf, kicking it angrily, just to make sure it was dead.
He thanked the Private with a nod, and drew his sword. He held his pistol in his right, sword in the left, and motioned for the private to do so as well. The private decided to draw both his pistols, cocking them, and brought them up into a firing position all in one fluid well rehearsed motion. He looked across at Kleautz and grinned.
“Smart ass” Smiled Kleautz
“I use the tools I’m given. Sir.” Kleautz noticed that he had remembered to bring shot and powder.
“Very good soldier” replied the Corporal.
“Strange.” He pondered aloud. “What the hell was a wolf doing here? At this time of year? In these woods? I’ve never seen one hereabouts before. More to the point, why was it attacking us?
“Attacking you.” Kleautz glanced at the private. “Sir”
“Yes private. He was. Well done.” Truth be told, Kleautz was scared, and he became sarcastic when scared.
“Why would he be attacking just me then?”
“I don’t know sir.” Came the swift reply. “Maybe he saw your stripe.”
“I’m not amused Private” Kleautz said with his most ‘un-amused’ tone of voice.
“I wasn’t trying to be amusing, Sir” replied the Private in the same tone. Kleautz grunted, secretly thinking he had chosen the wrong companion.
He had scanned the foliage during the small conversation, and was fairly satisfied there was no more immediate threats. He uncocked his pistol, tucked it into his belt and sheathed his sword
“Lets keep moving. We’ve wasted enough time. Double time it soldier.”
“Yessir” was the automatic reply.
A lone, distinct, ear shattering shriek cut through the already chilled air. It seemed to go on for eternity, although it couldn’t have been more than 20 seconds.. It sliced through the air like a knife, and froze the small contingent of soldiers to the core. Von Stohm wasn’t much for fanciful thinking, but he could have sworn that his very bones hardened and shivered along with his body.
“Sir…” began Carpathia
“Shhhh” was the colonel’s quick reply. His mind was working rapidly. He had only heard a shriek like that once in his life before, when he has a lad, of only 10 summers. Last time he had heard it, his mother, his father, and all his brothers and sisters had not seen another sunrise. At least, they had not seen one with living eyes. But that is a tale for another day. All need be told now, was that that scream heralded death to all who heard it.
Icy terror gripped the colonel’s heart. He glanced upon the approaching hoard, only dimly light by the night’s moon and stars.
“They’re growing restless.” He whispered. And, sure enough, the monsters were beginning to grow agitated, their shuffling was becoming frantic, and guttural growls were becoming more frequent. They were no longer silent.
He had grown tired of just standing here, waiting for something to happen. The runners must have reached the village by now. He decided it was time to move, and pray to Sigmar that the village was exacuated.
“Men,” he ordered, quietly, “Begin to retreat…..slowly. We don’t want a charge.” It was true, he didn’t want a charge, but he also knew how important it was for the soldiers to keep their cool. If they started to run, it would mature in a hysterical retreat, and he last thing the colonel needed was hysterical soldiers.
The soldiers stood up, their rifles still held at the ready, slowly walking backwards.
“Sir,” whispered one of the soldiers, “Why don’t we run? Those things are slow, they couldn’t charge”
“You’re right son,” Said the colonel looking for a reason, other the hysterical soldier one. He knew they wouldn’t like that one bit.. “But those things,” he pointed to a small pack of wolves that were slowly making their way through the horde of monsters,
“Could” The soldier gulped, and nodded his head vigorously. One of the wolves began to break away from the pack, and calmly trot towards the ring of men. Von Strohm sighted along his rifle and took careful aim at the beast. As he was about to pull the trigger, the wolf looked at him.
It didn’t look at him like a normal wolf does. With hate and savage fury in its eyes. It looked at the colonel as a noble would look down upon a stupid slave. His finger loosened on the trigger and the lowered the rifle to get a better look at the wolf. Its body was completely black, but it had a white nose. It calmly sat on the ground. As it sat, Von Strohm saw it had a dash of red mixed in its jet black fur.
“Bloody odd looking wolf” he muttered, and a corporal voiced his agreement. But the oddities didn’t stop there. It arched its pack, and began to wag its tail, as a dog does when it wishes to play.
“What the hell?” Carpathia put to words the colonels thoughts, as the wolf began barking at them. Not howling, barking. The colonel looked on in astonishment, as it jumped up and down, barking playfully at them. He uncocked his rifle, and stared at the beast with suspicion in his eyes.
The beast must have sensed that the men didn’t want to play. It again lay down, put its head between its paws and stared at them. Von Strohm didn’t want to waste any more time. He had foolishly stopped walking backwards the whole time this spectacle had been occurring, as had his men. He turned to look at the horde with a suspicion forming in his mind. He let out a sigh of relief, as he saw that it hadn’t shuffled forward any more.
“Men,” he ordered, this time a little louder, “Lets get the hell out of here.” The soldiers muttered their agreements, and started to move again. This time a little faster.
“You will find that a little difficult,” Said a strange voice. It sounded….cold. There was no warmth in the voice, and it had strange accent. It had also came from were the wolf had been sitting. Von Strohm turned in horror, expecting to see a talking wolf, instead he saw something even more odd…and more frightening.
On the freezing grass, there lay a boy, of about 13 summers. He was positioned on the ground in exactly the same way as the wolf had been, with his head propped up on his hands. Von Stohms brain stopped working. He had seen a lot of strange things in his time, but this had to top them all. He shook his head as he examined the boy. His face was deathly pale, and he was dressed entirely in black, except for a red trim around the edges of a light cloak that was coiled around him.
Von Strohm eyed him with distrust, and brought his rifle back up. This time, however, he was not so foolish as to stop walking. He kept taking slow steps backwards, compensating with his rifle at every stride.
“Why would I find that difficult lad?” Asked the colonel evenly. He didn’t use his voice he reserved for small children. He used his voice that was reserved for soldiers. Harsh, but in no way demeaning. He knew this was no ordinary boy, and didn’t think it wise to condescend him. He had made enough foolish mistakes tonight, he wasn’t about to make another one.
“Because,” began the boy with a hint of a sneer in his voice “while you were amused by me, my wolves have circled you. Oaf” Von Strohm spun around, and sure enough, was greeted by the snapping jaws of a large wolf. He turned back to face the boy, and sighted along the barrel of his rifle, fully intending to shoot the cocky youth. But something stayed his hand. He couldn’t kill a lad. No matter how many evil pets he had. He decided to try reasoning with him first. He called out to him, still keeping his rifle up.
“What does the pretty little pale faced youth want?” He asked. This time, however, he asked it differently. He laced his voice his sarcasm, and demeanment. His plan was to annoy the boy, and maybe cause him to make a mistake. Also, if this boy was responsible for tonight’s happenings, then he decided he didn’t like him very much. Evil pets be damned.
If Von Stohm was hoping to agitate the boy, he was disappointed. The lad merely laughed a harsh scorning laugh, rose to his feet, leered unpleasantly, and spat in the Colonels direction.
“It’s very simple Colonel.” Began the boy, this time with even more sneer, “What I want, is to send your soul to Hellgates.” Von Strohm sighed, and shook his head slightly as the boy’s foolish statement. He had grown tired of the conversation, and felt that he had given the youth ample opportunity to reason He also felt that the last statement ruled out any sort of parlay, and now it was his unpleasant job to kill the boy.
He didn’t utter any banter, nor scything words. In the real world, you didn’t give your enemy a chance to react when you had the upper hand, by quoting some stupid line, that a dead man wouldn’t remember. With his rifle already raised, and the sights fixed between the two pale blue eyes, all that was left was to pull the trigger, which he did without hesitation.