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Author Topic: Twenty second wave.  (Read 1203 times)
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« on: August 08, 2008, 11:56:24 AM »

The target was at three hundred yards distance.
The Empress took a deep breath and kept it in her lungs, stretching the bow string at maximum. She glanced at the target once again and concentrated. Her hands had to be extremely calmed. She had to merge with the arrow and make it her will.
It was not easy.
Pictures from the last massacre were coming into her mind again and again.
"And the Earl too, who
(was cut to pieces)
perished to give me time to fight off the Wild Flinstoun."
She hated that thin voice, emerging from time to time in the back of her head, piercing her mind, trying to drive her mad.
The Ruler of the Aiarian Empire finally exhaled the air out of her lungs, closed her deep blue eyes, trying to drive the nightmares out and let the arrow loose with ease.
The target was pierced 2 inches to the left from the bull's eye.
"I'm losing training."
She heard approaching steps.
Fortress Defense Commander came closer quietly, keeping a respectful distance. He knew he should not disturb his Sovereign, while she was shooting with her bow.
The Queen put the unreachable and cold mask on her face again and, with a commanding gesture, made him approach.
'He is coming again, Your Majesty', the Officer humbly spoke.
The Empress made a long pause, looking through him, at the flawlessly arranged garden. Her garden.
"My whole life."
'How big is the army', she asked, with her voice cold and calmed like the surface of a mountain lake.
'Big enough, My Queen.'
The blond ruler expected this answer.
She knew what must be done.
'Ready my horse', she ordered, 'I will negotiate with General Flinstoun. I hope he will take me and spare my people.'
She left the Captain with his tongue lost and exited the archery, fast pacing.
Four hours later the Aiarian Queen, heir of one of the oldest imperian families, deeply adored and respected by her people... was chained and forced to watch in silent terror as General Flinstoun destroyed her Fortress, killing everyone.
The Wild nomad leader was not touched by her plead.
Not at all.

Twenty second wave results

Imperian Fortresses destroyed: 812
Defenders' victories: 323

Nomads killed: 9897926
Imperian soldiers killed: 3214166

Oton was just about to go to the stables to change his horse's shoes, when he heard the Steppe Sons' roar.
Marshall Flinstoun was riding, excepting the soldiers' appraisals. He was as if he just seized the whole world. His massive chin was so high.
"Miserable megalomaniac!"
Butcher's face instantly was filled with blood. He hated the Wild in his guts.
Flinstoun had tied somebody behind his horse.
A woman.
Scratched all over, her feet all in blood, obviously severely beaten and tortured. She was barely standing straight up. She was probably walked the whole way back to the camp like that.
"She must be somebody important, otherwise he would not drag her with him."
Oton looked at her face.
Behind the dirt and the blood there were steel blue, with gray shades eyes, who were both ice cold and hot like lava wells.
Those eyes were lit with hatred and indocile.
"That woman will never be subdued. She must be an Empress indeed."
Something turned up side down in Oton's soul.
Before the Butcher realized what happened, his feet took him... exactly where they were not suppose to.
He went in front of the triumphant leader and grabbed his horse's reins.
The roar disappeared this instant. Everybody was watching the scene.
'What will you want for your prisoner... Marshall', Oton forced himself to bow in respect.
The silence was full.
Flinstoun smiled. Nothing could ruin his joy. And, here, even his greatest rival was paying his respects in front of the whole nomad host. His success was complete.
'Let her be a present for the First Marshall of the Horde and... my best friend', he replied and his smile widened.
The Sons of the Steppe burst into approval, proclaiming both their Leaders.
« Last Edit: August 09, 2008, 08:39:18 AM by Oton » Logged

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