I can feel the soft breeze as it lightly passes me, the smell of blood and emptied bowels thick in the air as my men die around me. My sweat is cooled by the wind as I ready myself to die, my thick armour a comfort upon my wide shoulders as I grip my war hammer, again ready to end more foul lives. We were but three hundred men on our way to the capital, Middenheim, when we were set upon by a hoard of Beastmen their ugly faces twisted in rage and hate as they poured out of the thick forest. A sigh leaves my lips, turning into a fine mist in the coolness of the morning, nothing to do but fight and hope to take as many of these disease ridden curs to the grave with us.
My men, their distinctive armour and wolfs cloaks, fight like they have never before, perhaps the knowledge that they will all die no matter what gives them strength on this cold morning. I move forward back into the main battle line, landing my war hammer upon the chest of a large Beastman, its animal eyes widen in shock as its life is crushed from it, spinning I plant my next blow cleanly into the side of another’s head, grey matter sprays from its cracked skull as it drops the gore laden forest floor.
I feel the rumble before seeing the Knights of Ulric, again, come crashing into the massed ranks of the Beastmen, their bleats of terror warm my heart as their crushed under the mighty war horse’s of the Knights, and those that still stand are quickly smashed to the ground by the frenzied Knights as they also try and take as many with them into the after life. It won’t be long now, only a few still stand. The Knights of Ulric are slowly over whelmed by sheer numbers, men pulled from their steads and hacked apart, their blood feeding the already soaked ground. I take a heavy blow and stumble back, my heart is like thunder in my ears, several massive brutes come at me large axes at the ready and death in their eyes.
I look over the battle field as my end draws near, the bodies of the Teutogen Guard litter the battle ground, horrible wounds gaping back at me, I smile, I know an odd time to let a smile creep across my face, but we have died well today more than eight hundred foul enemy have given their lives to our war hammers, and now I will try to add a few more to that tally. The first dies quickly, as savage blow to its face, as another tries to land a blow upon me, turning and moving to the side it misses me, I knock it from its feet, finishing it with a powerful blow, it squeals as it dies. Suddenly my breath is taken from me as I’m hit from behind; I drop to one knee as I struggle to regain my feet, my long hair hangs over my face hiding the wide smile that paints it. Another blow removes my head; a great fountain of blood announces my death. Now I’m just another ghost of the many battle fields that cover his land of mine.
A Short Tale.
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I like it!
Originally Posted by Cholio
? Nice story 
Another very well-crafted story, my friend! Hope to see more of those in the future.
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