Difference between revisions of "TheDarkestDusk"

Latest revision as of 01:18, 6 April 2010

The autumn sun slowly sank beneath the carpeted mountains behind a haze of greasy smoke, and a man stood tall at the edge of the clearing. Caleb Xarcabard had seen his share of massacre this day, and the greasy smoke that slowly curled and crawled to the heavens were from the mounds of bodies that he and his few good men left had piled up themselves earlier that eve to burn this night.

“Sir!” A young man saluted as he came to attention near Caleb. The young man was Jacob, his only junior officer assigned under him, alone among the other middle aged soldiers that staffed the town of Juniper. Caleb studied him for a moment, looking into his eyes, judging how he was handling the events of the day. Jacob had done what Caleb never could in his youth, exalted into the ranks of the Dragonblooded. In the midst of battle, Jacob had burst into fire, literally, and staunched the flow of wyld mutated beasts that attempted to breach the town hall. Caleb saw in Jacob's eyes a strong passion, whether it be left from the battle; or the young, foolish notions of revenge, he could not tell. Caleb finally nodded to the young officer, acceding him to speak.

“I have the final count sir.” Jacob paused, looking at his feet, “two hundred and forty-seven dead in all, nine of them soldiers.” Jacob paused again, sounding as if there were more, Caleb didn't know if he wanted to hear any more. That left them with only sixteen or so soldiers to guard the fifty odd women, children, and elderly that were still alive.

“And sir,” Jacob started, waiting to catch Caleb's gaze, “We are expected to lose Juyop and Keraka from wounds by the morning.” Caleb held his inner frustration, exerting the cool demeanor that a commander need show his men.

“Thank you Jacob, go take a rest, you deserve it.” ordered Caleb, though he doubted that the boy needed it, his exaltation had left him with energy to spare, for essence now flowed through his veins.

“Thank you sir,” replied an over-zealous Jacob, but he did not turn and leave. He stayed, still looking as if there were more to be spoken. “Sir, we couldn't have made it without you today. We're all grateful to have you. Me and the men thought you should know.”

Caleb gave a melancholy smile, looking up at the boy, who returned his somber grin, and then trotted off to his tent. For a moment, Caleb felt repose, but without Jacob standing to fill his view, only the burning piles of the dead were there to keep his eyes company, and the pain returned.

“What are you going to do now?” Caleb questioned himself, looking to the dirt. His mind was awash with the worries of what to do. The town was destroyed, and the wyld was encroaching even further since there was no hint of civilization to ward off the chaos. He could see the trees warping and twisting themselves in the distance, twisting at odd angles, turning weird colors, and growing or shrinking to colossal or miniature sizes, it was something of a nightmare.

“Yerarrrghh!!!” hollered Jacob, bringing his heavy pole-axe down upon the head of a stunted, deranged looking horse with fangs for eyes, smashing its skull into the rocky earth. “Sir!” he warned in a harsh tone, pointing beyond himself to Caleb, who turned just in time to meet the blow of a pair of wicked claws with his ornamental sword, dashing it aside.

The demented wyld creatures had been spewing forth into the town for almost an hour now, and Caleb could feel his strength, and more importantly his morale, dwindling. This had not been the first time, he was getting old. Experience however had taught him not to let your men see this weakness. Caleb gave a quick salute to Jacob, thanking him for the warning.

“Can you handle yourself here Jacob?” inquired Caleb, raising his voice to be heard above the din of battle. Jacob was engulfed in flames, flames of his own, brought forth from his exaltation of mere minutes ago; he was busy pulling his poleax out from the gullet of a trio of demonic little creatures. Jacob flashed his superior officer a knowing grin.

“No problem sir!” he replied finally, only pausing so long, then whipping his polearm to use again, twirling it about himself, and seemingly without striking a blow, letting his foes fall to the ground about him.

“The boy certainly does have it...” Caleb trailed off to himself, watching in an envious awe of the young dragonblooded. “I'm going to check on Karaka's fang!” he shouted, dashing off before he receive acknowledgement from his junior officer.

Back and forth, weaving in and out of the small alleyways, Caleb made his way towards the south part of town. Bodies lay scattered across the small roads of Juniper, foe and friend alike. Women and children were among the bodies as well as the beasts and soldiers. Nothing short of massacre could describe the carnage wrought about him.

Using a barrel as support while leaping over a pile of rubble, Caleb caught sight of a small girl crouched inside, cowering in fear. He paused for a moment, thinking of something to do to help her, surely her mother had been lost in the confusion, or possibly dead. Feeling helpless not for the first time that day, Caleb decided she was better of in her hiding spot than going with him. He flashed the girl a reassuring smile, then sprinted off towards the south fields. In his heart, he knew he would never see that dirty face again.

Bursting onto a scene of a chaotic melee, Caleb found Karaka’s fang surrounded atop a small hillock, brilliantly fending off a mass of more than two dozen man-sized creatures; a seething mass of hooves, tentacles, hands and weapons. Heaving his chest high, Caleb let forth a deafening war cry.

“Waaaaagggghhhhh!!!” he cried, riding his own feet into the battle. His cry not only sent fear into the creatures, but also gave them stop enough for Karaka’s fang to slay half their number whilst distracted. Caleb soon found himself back to back with Karaka, defending each other’s blind spot, just like in days of past.

For what seemed like an eternity stretched out over an eon, the two fought off increasing waves of creatures borne from the wyld. Mace and sword alike found their respective homes in the empty carapaces of the nightmarish creatures. Eventually, numbers were drawn, and the small garrison of Juniper was losing theirs faster. For not the first time that day, Caleb saw the end coming, and also not for the first time that day, salvation came.

Over the next hill, a lumbering giant came into view wielding an axe the size of two men, this was Juyop. Taking strides not commonly known to his name, he made blazing speed to aide his comrades. Relief flooded over Caleb like a steamy bath after a day working in the fields. Fear again soon replaced his relief, continuing the rollercoaster that was his day; Juyop was not coming to his aide, but looking for it. Galloping after Juyop’s fang, was a giant made of stone and tinder, small trees growing from his limbs, thundering the earth about him. Small fairies darted about his massive girth, creating an impenetrable field of flickering light, blinding to the sight, and all the blood drained from Caleb’s face as the earthen giant brought a full grown spruce tree upon the dwarfed form of Juyop, ushering a sickening snap as his spine broke under the massive blow, only followed by a short scream.

Caleb awoke in a cold sweat, bolting upright. Breathing heavily, beads of perspiration rolled down his forehead. Taking two breaths to take in his surroundings, he found himself back in the base camp that they had made that evening. They had done a forced march of about fifteen miles that night, to distance themselves from the town, which was surely by now overtaken by the chaos of the wyld.

Caleb surveyed the scene around him. The calmness of the tame wilderness about him was misguiding of what he had seen only hours before. Thinking this, he wondered how long he had slept. It couldn’t have been long, with his aging neck braced up against a felled log.

The women and children that they had saved were camped about a small clearing some sleeping, others restless like himself. Mere yards from where he woke, Caleb saw the sleeping form of Karaka. His face was red with fever, valiantly fighting off the poison that was running in his system. Juyop could not be so lucky to fight off what ailed him, his spirit was already ascending to the sun in a pillar of smoke many miles off distant now.

Giving the thought of Juyop’s spirit rest, Caleb turned his attention to the masses before him. In the morning they would start marching towards Greyfalls, where they could leave the women and children safely. From there he and his men would travel back to Lookshy, to tell administration that their town was destroyed, what else was there to do? Caleb expected little help from them afterwards. The only reason the town existed was to supply lumber, and there were more plentiful sources around now.

What little he had worked towards for the past decade was going to fade into nothingness, just as he knew was the fate he would follow. Sadly, there was nothing else he could do. Caleb turned back over onto his side, hoping for another hour of sleep, only to see the creeping oranges of pre-dawn; he closed his eyes anyways.

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