A scout ran towards them from the direction of the town. “No sign of Stromlings, sir. Not our men neither. Everything’s quiet as can be, sir.”
The Colonel frowned. “I see… Fall into rank.” He said to the soldier. He then raised his voice addressing the entire command. “7th, ready rifles. First company forward center with me. For’ard march!” And so he led them down to the hamlet. The bridge itself was old, as well as barely being wider than two minifigures. The planks clattered under the soldiers’ boots, but there was no movement from the huts. Upon reaching the other side the first company formed a semicircle, their rifles leveled at the huts. The Colonel motioned Captain Conrad to his side. “Surround the village immediately. Harm none, but allow none to escape.”
The Captain’s sombrero bounced almost comically as he wordlessly dashed off with his company, allowing the rest of the regiment to file across the bridge. The Colonel went to cross the bridge, and was joined by TwoEdge. Together they wearily stepped onto the bridge. Dark spots had splotched many of the planks, and more than a few boards had entirely disintegrated. TwoEdge’s foot broke through a less obviously disintegrating plank. With the Colonel’s help he dislodged his leg, the unfortunate plank falling to the river. “So this is our objective?” TwoEdge snorted watching as the plank shattered on the icy river’s surface. “A twenty-brick rotten, sorry- rotting bridge leading across a frozen river to a dozen or so ill-made huts?” “I don’t understand,” The Colonel began, “There is obviously no military use for this bridge, or this village.” “There’s not even a good use for a bridge at all when the Stromlings can simply march as they please across ice thick enough to shatter wood." TowEdge exclaimed, obviously worked up about the matter. “Indeed, but the bridge is not our objective, rather the regiment guarding it. Where are they?” He waved at the empty space, desolate of life save his own soldiers and that of the tiny village.
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
“As I see it there are three possibilities: One, they already left, or two, they were defeated by the stromlings.” “Impossible, there was no battle here. Just look at the bridge, there’s not a single bolt-scorch or sword mark on it.” The Colonel ran his hand over the rough wood. There were a few ancient scars, but nothing to tell the tale of a recent battle. “In that case,” TwoEdge continued, “They must’ve left already, though for what reason escapes me, after all they were under orders to hold the bridge, and of course, there aren’t any stromlings in the vicinity.” “We don’t know that for certain. The scouts should report shortly. But you mentioned a third possibility, what is it?” The Colonel scratched his chin. “I’m afraid you’re not going to like it, Colonel.” TwoEdge folded his arms and stared at his friend. “That’s never stopped you from voicing your opinion before.” The Colonel quipped. The lieutenant colonel smiled. “The third possibility is that this ghostly regiment never existed in the first place.”
The colonel thought on these words silently, resting his elbows on the rail. “I’m not ready to accept that,” He said at last. “It would mean foul play and I don’t wish to ascribe that to any Nexus Force officer without firm proof. Come, let’s question some of the villagers, and see what they have to say.”
The Nexus Force soldiers had gathered fifty or sixty ill-kempt natives and huddled them together in the center of the village. They frowned at the soldiers from beneath shaggy reindeer hoods. The Colonel pointed to a man in the front, who was dressed slightly better than the rest of the villagers. “Are you the chief?” He asked. “I am he, lord.” The man replied, bowing profoundly. “Have you seen any Nexus Force recently?” The colonel continued. “No, my reverential lord, you are the first to visit my humble abode in many hunts.” The chief bowed once more. “Are you certain that none have come to guard your bridge?” “Yes my liege,” He bowed again, “I am certain. I do not know why any would take interest in our humble bridge.” “You have a point there, matey,” The Colonel muttered to himself. “But what of the stromlings? Have you been visited by any?”
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
Ooh, this looks cool! Are the auditions still open?
BearSoliloquy I'm not sure how I missed this, but the auditions will probably be perpetually open as long as I'm writing this. I do have an end to this story arc eventually, but it's long in comming (i.e. I intend to write more than twenty chapters, and I'm only on chapter three right now, so yeah.). So yes audition, drag I mean invite friends. Make sure to read all previous content that I posted here so you know what's going on, and be doublely sure to read the faction trailer on page three to better determine which faction your character is from. Cheers!
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
-last edited on Jun 28, 2018 17:21:00 GMT by Lolli
Post by Lolli on Jun 28, 2018 17:18:04 GMT
“Not since the last mating of the reindeer my lord.” He bowed twice more. “Very well. We want nothing from you. We will camp close by tonight, but you needn’t fear, my soldiers will do you no harm.” The chief expressed his gratefulness by giving another, more exaggerated bow so low that a clump of snow powdered his eyebrows. The Colonel issued orders to pitch camp on the other side of the river, TwoEdge joined him looking tremendously red in the face. “Are you feeling alright, Edge?” The colonel asked, genuinely concerned not just because they were close friends, but also because it is the duty of any officer to take care of and take responsibility for their troops. “I think I burst some internal organs.” TwoEdge grinned, barely keeping from laughter. “You simply can’t imagine how preposterous that village chieftain looked, bobbing up and down like a child’s jack-in-the-box. And there you are, stoically conversing with him just as if he were looking at you all along instead of studying the snow for botanical specimens.”
The Colonel smiled somberly. If they had been back at the base he might’ve seen the humor, but as it was, he never felt at ease when on a mission without a clear objective. The troops were busy building igloos all across the impromptu camp. The colonel stepped to superintend the construction of his own impermanent igloo. He watched as Emarcee heaved a block onto the rapidly shaping dome. One of his builders stumbled with a block in hand. She was of medium build and unrecognized by a colonel who knew all of his soldiers. He moved to hold the block while she steadied herself, “Thank you,” she began, brushing back a loose strand of hair and avoiding eye contact. “But I really was doing fine, I could have gotten it myself.”
“Equally you could have crashed my igloo, and we don’t have that kind of time to waste. Now up, careful as she goes, a little to the left…” He instructed as he helped her lift the capping snow block onto the dome.
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
The finished igloo already looked cozy, especially with the plummeting temperature and the nightwinds beginning to howl. The girl began to climb down the dome and lost her footing, falling face-first into the snow. The colonel smiled and offered his hand which she quickly took. He heaved her up and shook her hand, “I’m sorry but I don’t believe that we’ve met. I know all my soldiers, but yours is a new face to me. What’s your name, soldier?” She dusted the snow off of her uniform while he talked. “Private Essa Tanter, sir.” She saluted smartly as she noticed who she was addressing. “Essa Tanter… Essa Tanter… Oh, yes I remember you,” His smile broadened, “You’re the spaghetti girl!” She winced at this calling back to an embarrassing memory. The Colonel regained his composure before continuing. “What brought you into this war exactly?” “I was drafted, sir.” She said, still avoiding eye contact. “That’s rich, but you’ll have to supply a better story than all that if you want to convince anyone.” He quipped. “But that’s the truth I swear!” “It can’t be, you are two years shy of being caught by the draft.” “That is funny, because people are always saying-” “Oh I wager people say a lot of things, but I didn’t achieve colonelcy for lack of common sense. It is rather obvious that you weren’t drafted. Underneath your cloak you wear a dress uniform in good condition. Any soldier could tell you that their dress uniform is for special occasions and yet you wear yours to build the colonel’s igloo, which likely means you stole it. But why? Also, there’s no way I could forget the spaghetti girl who came with a wave of volunteers for a tour of the Nexus Tower construction.” She was befuddled. “I tore my regular uniform beyond repair in the battle for Yetti Hill, sir. This is all I’ve got till my new uniform comes. Er, sir.” She stammered. “Oh that’s quite alright, you should have asked me to order that uniform though, officers get one-day delivery on that sort of thing. As I recall you’re a bit of a crack-shot.” He said, hands folded behind his back.
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
-last edited on Jun 28, 2018 19:04:08 GMT by Lolli
Post by Lolli on Jun 28, 2018 19:03:56 GMT
“Oh yes, sir, I am,” She began excitedly, the way most people respond when they talk about what they love, “I could probably blow an ant off that hill.” She raised her hand towards the horizon and froze. “What is it?” The colonel looked past her pointing arm. A horsemen has just crested the rise over which they had come and was presently dashing towards them. The colonel unslung his rifle – there, in full pursuit of the solitary horsemen was a band of maelstrom horsemen, silhouetted against the evening sky. The Empathizer riders reined in their horses at the sight of a Nexus Force encampment and fled for cover. The lone horseman slapped his steed furiously- it was one of the colonel’s scouts. Foam dripped from the exhausted horse’s mouth. Breathless, the scout climbed off his horse and fell at the colonel’s feet. “Stromlings, sir,” He rasped, “Thousands! They’re all over.” TwoEdge grasped the Colonel’s arm. “Look!”
There, on the hill’s summit and in all directions surrounding the hamlet, emerged a great multitude of Stromling empathizers.
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
NOT THE SPAGHETTI INCIDENT!!! I could die of embarrassment…. All great new parts and thanks for putting me in!! I can't wait to see how this goes!! LE BAD GUYS ARRIVE!!!
Age: Not talked about, but appears to be around 20
Short Backstory: Trained for self defense with the quarterstaff and baton. Volunteered when the war came around. Is very good at fighting with batons or any type of staff... is decent fighting with other weapons, but not good enough to take down someone experienced with their own weapon.
Personality: Typically doesn't talk with anyone except one or two friends. I mean, he would talk to someone other than a friend if that person started a conversation, but not otherwise. If you get to know him, he has a sense of humor, is loyal to anyone he trusts, and is nice over all. He is not cocky, but he is confident in his skill with any baton-type weapon.
“That could be a problem.” TwoEdge chafed his hands slowly. “That is quite possibly the biggest understatement I have heard yet, Edge. Quickly, we must fortify our position!” The Colonel raised his voice. “7th, everyone to shovel and pick! I want walls of snow and as muck of this frozen dirt as you can dig built up on both sides of the bridge!” He dashed among his troops, helping his captains organize the working parties in the gathering despondency. A tall man with angular features confronted the colonel. “Sir, where d’you want us snipers to go?” These were the elite from Company Five, the best in a regiment already renowned for its marksmen. They could change the battle’s outcome entirely. “Take the village and loophole the walls. Tell the natives that we’re trying to protect them, and that they can stay in their homes, but we must have men with them. Any damage done from the fight will be paid for.” The snipers saluted and raced away. “Do you want the wall across the ice, sir?” Captain Conrad asked. “Yes, and spread a layer of snow on the river’s surface. I don’t want chips flying at our faces every time a bolt hits the ice. Overturn the wagons and incorporate them into the barricade.” A swath was scrapped in front of the wall, forming a dry moat, but even the iron shovels couldn’t break the frozen topsoil. The Colonel paused with TwoEdge on the bridge to survey the rising fortifications. “This all will help in hand-to-hand combat, but it’s hardly any use against blaster bolts or bullets. Nonetheless, a soldier is always protected in his mind when there is something between him and his enemy.” He said, moving to inspect the parts of the wall at random. Darkness soon cloaked the position as maelstrom cloud-cover blocked the moon’s gentle rays. Soldiers dropped their tools as the wall reached shoulder height, moving to squat round their campfires.
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
“Perfect time for a surprise attack, sir,” TwoEdge whispered while he and the Colonel inspected the perimeter wall. “They may attack, but they won’t find us at all surprised, Edge” He said, punching the thick snow wall to test its firmness. “Is it your intention to wait for them to attack, sir?” TwoEdge asked astonishment underlying his tone.
The Colonel stared over the wall into the black night beyond. Dim lights glimmered on the hill’s crest, marking empathizer bivouacs. Several shadowy forms crept from the Nexus Force encampment, melting into the darkness. It would prove to be a harsh night for the sentries.
“I don’t know,” The colonel answered slowly, “That’s what we must decide. The Maelstrom Empathizers usually travel in either patrols of a few hundred, or as small armies of several thousand. According to what we’ve seen and our scout’s reports it must be the latter, leaving us outnumbered four or five to one.”
“We’ve known worse odds, but we’ve also known more defensible positions haven’t we.” TwoEdge wiped his sword with a dry cloth. “That we have. Tactically, our position is abysmal. They quite literally have the high ground, they could group and prepare for a charge unseen by us, and they would have the momentum to overrun our walls. We could smash a good number but after that-” the colonel fell silent and clenched his fists. He could feel the responsibility that weighed in his shoulders. The lives of hundreds of the Force’s finest soldiers depended on him. In that instant he knew what had to be done, and he knew that it would cost him his best friend’s life if it failed.
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
Are the auditions still open? 
