text: is just then that you notice the severe burn marks covering Hidius' body.  His face, from what you can see, is even a bit distorted. 
  
  "I know why you are here."
  
  "Will you join me?" you ask.
  
  "No."
  
  "But-"
  
  "Walk with me."
  
  The chief puts his hand on your shoulder, slowly leading you outside.  As you step into the sunlight, you realize Hidius injuries are more severe than you thought.  It appears as though his nose has been smelted off of his face.  You're surprised that his hair is still growing though, which should not be possible.
  
  "How... is your hair still growing?"
  
  "A rude question to ask of my deformities."
  
  "I'm sorr-"
  
  "No.  It's alright, no one has asked in a long time, some around here know the story.  Others think it's crazed nonsense."
  
  Hidius waves a hand to change the subject.  He stops and gestures to the village and the waters ahead.
  
  "Gigalak gave us these lands and these waters so that we could live wild and free.  The Mannate Empire wants to take that from us."
  
  "So help us stop them."
  
  "We can't...  I can't," Hidius says.  "I am dying and so is my village."
  
  "What do you mean?"
  
  "We've been cursed, you see, as made apparent by my condition."
  
  "That's nonsense," you say.  "Taking heavy burn wounds isn't going to damn the rest of the village.  Besides, they look fine to me."
  
  Hidius chuckles.
  
  "It won't be today, or tomorrow, or even a decade from now, but we're all doomed.  I've seen it."
  
  Hidius closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
  
  "Whether or not we stop the Mannate Empire...  something far worse is waiting to take us into a grip of fire."
  
  "Stop this," you say, "and tell me what you mean."
  
  "Nothing we really do this day matters anymore, I have seen it."
  
  You take a deep breath and try to stop yourself from shaking the older orc in frustration.
  
  "No matter what is going to happen, you can't just lay down and die."
  
  You gently put a hand on his shoulder and turn him around to face you.
  
  "We're orcs damn it, and we fight everything that gets in our way.  Living, dead, hell, Empire, whatever it may be.  We don't just lay down and die."
  
  The chief smiles slowly.
  
  "While that may be true of you and yours, I am old and tired of fighting.  I've seen enough horrors to last one thousand lifetimes.  Our time is useless."
  > say "Use that time for a greater purpose"
  "If you think you're gonna die anyways, why don't you use whatever time you have left for something good?" you ask.
  
  The chief shuts his eyes and seems to be contemplating your words. 
  
  "Whatever you think is coming to harm us all, we can deal with it when it comes.  In the meantime, we can't just sit around and let the Empire step on us."
  
  Hidius does nothing.
  
  "I need everyone that I can get," you say, "there are so many orcs doing their part.  Now you need to do yours.  Please... .I'm asking for your help."
  
  At this, Hidius opens his eyes and gives you a side wards look.
  
  "Although your words will be ultimately futile... ..I will help you."
  
  Letting out a sigh of relief, you step to the side.
  
  "One more thing," you say, "stop spreading this doom prophecy to your people.  They're really taking it to heart.  I'm not saying it's not true or whatever, but at least lift their spirits a little."
  
  Hidius nods, and begins to walk back to his hut.
  
  "I will gather a group of warriors, and we will meet your army."
  
  "Good," you say, "make haste, for things are stirring quickly."
  
  Hidius nods, and goes to a group of orcs.  You can't hear what he says, but they all seem to go off to find more orcs.
  
  With satisfaction, you mount your horse to make your way out of the village.  As you head to where you are sure where the next will be, you think that maybe you'll find a place to escape the heat first.
  > Three Months Later...
  It has been six months since you left to unite the tribes.  It has not been easy, but it has been largely successful.  There were a few that gave you trouble, refusing to join in the fight.  Even then, some of their members disobeyed and walked right out with you.  The rest will come around eventually.
  
  Lately, the Council has sent several couriers with messages urging you to hold off in the fight against the Empire.  You always send them back with a "no."
  
  It appears that the humans have really been pushing within the last month, and Galik seems to have taken charge over things since you have left.  Maybe he has finally matured and is ready to take over for you. 
  
  You wouldn't mind not having to worry about all of this; except for the fighting really.  It would be just like the war with the Wister Elves, someone points and you attack, broken up with random bursts of initiative and leadership.
  
  At the same time, your axe itches to go into the fray.  That spark Gigalak ignited into all orcs has not gone out yet.  You begin to wonder where this course of action will take you when it begins to rain.
  
  "It's raining again."
  
  As you make your way back to your camp, you see that it has grown tremendously.  Many orcs shout and greet you as you enter.  While you have been pretty well liked by most of them, you didn't expect such an enthusiastic welcome.
  
  "The chieftain has returned!"
  
  "Hail Nolazir!"
  
  "Our leader returns to us!"
  
  You smirk a bit, it will be a letdown for some if they find out you're thinking of resigning over to Galik.
  
  As you enter the main area of the camp where many of the orcish leaders live, you notice something is different.  Several posts have been erected, with orcs tied to them, while their comrades grimly whip them.
  
  As you turn, looking between your old tent and some of the others, there upon the ground are three slain orcs.  Above them stands Galik, a fiery rage in his eyes.  Near them, stands Grolik, severely beaten and held back by three orcs.
  
  "Galik!" you cry.
  
  Galik breathes heavily and looks up from the corpses to meet your eye.
  
  "Nolazir," he says prowling forward, "stand down!"
  
  "What is going on?"
  
  "These fools disobeyed me.  They were here to sabotage our efforts."
  
  "What in Grikalia are you talking about?"
  
  "These traitors spent weeks scheming and planning," Galik said, "but it was not that alone that caused this? Do you want to know what it was?"
  
  You glare at him, lowering your chin a bit.  Your hands curl at your side as you prepare for anything.
  
  "There are some in the Council who think we should give the humans quarter," Galik says, "parley with them, make an agreement.  These fools pushed this idea, even saying we should compromise with them."
  
  Galik furiously spits on one of the corpses.
  
  "This one thought that we should concede some land to be annexed with the Empire.  Fools."
  
  While you can see the logic in his anger, something seems off. 
  
  "And the rest?" you ask.
  
  "Not so keen on the idea of conceding land yet," Galik says, "but it was only a matter of time before the traitor would get them to turn over.  I know this."
  
  "That's only one of three," you say, "and you think you can justify their executions with assumptions?"
  
  "Nolazir, they were traitors.  I could see it!  It would not have been too long!"
  
  "And what say you for Grolik?" you ask.  "What has he done?"
  
  Grolik slowly looks up at the two of you, a dark look in his eyes.
  
  "When I was...  purging these traitors, he tried to intervene," Galik says, "using much the same words as you have.  Actually, he is lucky I haven't gutted him yet, seeing as he has been a pain these last couple of months."
  
  Galik twirls his sword a bit before pointing it at the whipping post.
  
  "I thought a nice whipping would get him to change his mind," he says, "but he sure is stubborn.  I have only spared his life because he spoke against these traitors, but then he ridiculed me for sending them to Grikalia early."
  
  "So what do you intend to do?" you ask.
  
  "I'm going to kill him," Galik says with a smirk.
  
  "Or more like... " he grins, "you're going to kill him.  Prove your loyalty to your new chief, Nolazir"
  
  Galik takes a few steps back, gesturing you to step forward.  As you do, the other three orcs raise Grolik. 
  
  As you stand in front of him, one of the orcs hands you a shortsword.  As you grip the simple weapon, the texture of the leather grip feels odd to you right now.
  
  Grolik looks at you, shaking his head a bit.
  
  "Don't do it Nolazir," he says.  "I think we know who the real traitor is."
  
  You look at the blade, surely Galik has seen madness, but could you really kill the child of your dear friend Greusim?  The young orc who had often sat on your lap when you went to visit your now dead friend...  all those years ago.
  
  Who is Grolik?  You've known him for a few years, but he is just a lawless orc.  Still, he has shown great promise, and hasn't let you down yet.  Other than your first altercation, he has been a true friend. 
  
  Grolik looks into your eyes, there is no fear.  There is a quiet rage, and even a hint of sadness in his eyes.
  > free Grolik
  With a heavy sigh...  you lift the sword up, gripping it with both hands.  Grolik doesn't even blink as you bring it down.  But you step slightly to the side, slicing clean through the arm of the orc to your left who handed you the sword.  He screams in pain as he falls over, and you run the second through the chest.
  
  As you pull it out, you turn around just in time to deflect an attack from Galik.  As you circle him and parry his blows, Grolik tackles the third orc, turning his own dagger towards him.
  
  "You've made the wrong choice, old friend," Galik says.  "I'm sorry."
  
  You don't respond but, instead, block his swift attack.  Galik fights with ferocity, but you match this with skill.
  
  As you hook your blade onto his hilt, you turn and twist, Galik flies forward.  He drops his sword for a moment but rolls and picks it back up.  Behind him, Grolik and the other orc still struggle, the dagger on the ground and both of them in a deadly grapple.
  
  Galik twirls his sword as you circle each other.
  
  "Drop the sword, Galik," you say.  "It doesn't have to be like this."
  
  "Oh but it does.  Remember, you chose this!"
  
  The last couple of words are emphasized by Galik swinging his sword down at you.  You easily dodge this and take a wide swipe, nicking his arm.  Galik hisses and swings at your head, which you duck as you plunge the tip of the sword into his calf.
  
  Galik cries out in pain and staggers back.  You raise the sword before pausing, instead, taking a step back.
  
  "You truly have gotten soft, Nolazir," he says.  "What happened to the ruthless orc I used to hear stories about?"
  
  "Do you really think I want to kill you?" you say.  "You're the child of my dear friend Greusim.  He was like a father to me, why would I want to kill any of his children?"
  
  "You're just a weakling and a pathetic leader, Nolazir," Galik says.  "My father would be disappointed in you."
  
  With these words still in the air, Galik charges you, first swinging high but then veering low.  With a cry you barely manage to escape, the tip of the blade slicing into your thigh.  Gritting your teeth you slash his chest.
  
  Not once, but twice and then three times; you swing the sword in a perfect arc of fury.  Galik's face twists as he staggers back, clutching his chest.  He raises his sword and stumbles forward, you easily deflect the strike and slam your foot into his knee.
  
  Galik cries out and falls back, rolling to get away from what he thought would be a killing blow.  As he looks up, you see the seething hatred in his eyes.  His sword lays behind you, which he had dropped when you knocked him over.
  
  "Well, what are you waiting for, Nolazir?"
  
  You take a step forward, raising the sword.  As you do so, you remember the first day that Greusim showed Galik to you; when he was but an infant wrapped inside a blanket.  You remember the days of taking him out as a young lad, teaching him how to fish and about the plants and animals.  You remember the closeness you used to share, before Greusim fell, and this wrath took him over.
  > kill Galik
  As these memories flood through your mind, you realize that it doesn't matter what he was.  It just matters what he has become; and that's a murderer.  He would drag the orcish armies into the grave with him, dooming Orcin to an eternity of rule by the Mannate Empire.
  
  Galik laughs insanely as you step forward, and you drive the sword down... 
  
  In the last moment, Galik rolls to the side and the sword slams into the dirt.  You pull, but the blade does not budge.
  
  Standing, you cannot do anything before your foe slams into you.  His fingers dig into your shoulder as he draws a dagger from under his shirt.  He grins and chuckles as he lifts the blade up, intent on slamming it into your chest.  The dagger gleaming in the sunlight, showing you your final moments... 
  
  Galik brings the knife down, your hand shooting up just in time.  Grunting you twist and wrench the blade from his hand.  Grabbing his shoulder you shove the knife forward into his belly, as it slides through surprisingly easy.  Galik gasps, and his hands grip your shoulders.
  
  You rip the dagger out and slam it back into him, this time some splatter decorating your forearms.  On the third strike, Galik's knees buckle and he falls back, guided by your hand.  As you kneel over him, Galik's hands grip your arms and shoulder.  
  > stab him again
  He tries to speak but he is too winded.  Snarling, and with a gleam of victory in your eyes, you plunge the knife into him a fourth time.  Galik's eyes widen for a moment before his head falls back onto the dirt.  He expels a short breath before laying still.
  
  Panting heavily, you kneel over your once good friend.  You stare down at his face, empty eyes staring into the sky above.  Your brow furrows as you place your hands under him, lifting him up a bit. 
  
  "Why did you make me have to do this, Galik?" you ask.  "Greusim was my friend.  I've known you since before you were born.  You fool."
  
  With this, you drop him, and you look up to see Grolik.  He stands there holding a bloody dagger at his side.  He gives you an understanding nod.
  
  You stand up and start to walk away.  He raises an eyebrow.
  
  "Let someone else deal with his corpse," you say.  "I want nothing to do with him anymore.  It's done."
  
  You drop the dagger and walk to the tent, and, sitting on the chair, you grab some whiskey... 
  > Six Months Later
  The last six months since Galik's death have been eventful.  It took a while for you to reorganize the camp, fixing all of Galik's mistakes.  While it was stressful at first, you managed to delegate some responsibility to Grolik, Gro'tesk, Hidius, and Rolomag.
  
  Everything is now organized, but it seems that the Empire is done playing around.  In the last two months alone, you have repelled several small-scale assaults.  You are sure they are finally going to act and make some big moves.
  
  But so are you.  Soon, these years of stalemates and quiet maneuvering will be at an end.  Soon, it will be time to test the Mannate Empire's true mettle.
  
  The past five years have been filled with hardships and struggles, but you have managed to overcome all of them.  For the first time, you are looking at this conflict pretty positively.  Young orcs trickle in everyday willing to contribute to the cause.  What worries you though is their age.  While there are plenty of experienced veterans in your army, the number of young, inexperienced, and foolhardy orcs concerns you.
  
  Traditionally, orcs have always set out as adults at the age of fifteen.  What this usually means for them is going out and finding adventure and fighting things.  Because of your warlike nature, many orcs do not actually live too long.  Some would even consider an orc such as yourself, at the ripe age of thirty-five to have been a long enough and accomplished life.
  
  Gigalak did not intend your kind to grow old and miserable, but, instead, to put life into your years, no matter how short or long they may be.
  
  You sense someone pulling up to the side of you.
  
  "Still thinking about Galik?" Grolik asks.
  
  "Among other things," you sigh.
  
  "I know you were close to him, but he just went too far."
  
  "I know, it's just hard seeing someone you care about turn into something else."
  
  Grolik exhales slowly, nodding as he does so.
  
  "Sometimes, you'll do everything you can to save someone," he says, "but sometimes you have to do what you have to do."
  
  "What would you know about this?" you snort.
  
  Grolik gulps and looks into the distance before turning his head to you.
  
  "I... .I butchered my entire family and tribe."
  
  "What?" you ask.
  
  "It's...  a long story."
  
  Before you can say anything further, Grolik spurs his horse forward to attend to something else.
  
  A whole throng of orcs march ahead and behind you, as you all make your way down the mountains and to the hills where the rest of your army waits.  Along the way, you have groups of fighters intersperse throughout the hills and rocks just before the plains.  It seems the Empire plans to take you on in open combat.
  
  The scouts alerted you of the huge shift in troops heading this way.  Once your reserves and last line are firmly placed, you call to all of your commanders. 
  
  Kneeling by a rock, you spread a map across it.  Taking a piece of charcoal to mark it up.
  
  Rolomag peers closely at it, rubbing his chin.  Grolik looks out to the hills and then to the plains and forest ahead.  Gro'tesk sharpens his weapons and checks the string on his bow.  Hidius closes his eyes and takes in the crisp air.
  
  You start by marking all of the locations the Imperials should be attacking from.  Mostly, directly ahead of you.
  
  Gro'tesk points to the area in the Southeast.
  
  "I think they'll try sending a few brigades through here," he says.  "While there's no chance they would be able to make it through the mountains in time, it wouldn't take much longer for them to divert through these woods."
  
  You have some light patrols stationed in the mountains, so they would alert your left flank if they saw Imperials moving through there.
  
  "Hmm, we can probably divert more troops to watching that area then," you say.
  
  "Or, we could go through that way ourselves and try to catch them off guard," Gro'tesk says, "whether or not they're coming through that way."
  
  "No way," Rolomag says. "We need all the warriors here that we can get.  Their only real option is to try to push through the plains, and we should try to match them."
  
  "No, wrong way!" Gro'tesk yells.
  
  Grolik speaks without looking to the group.
  
  "I think Gro'tesk is actually right about this one," he says, "we need to keep an eye over that way.  Or maybe even exploit it."
  
  "Yes, if they get cavalry through those woods," Gro'tesk says, "even with our reserves and archers, we won't be able to stop them from wiping through our flank."
  
  You analyze the area, the humans could utilize it, in which case it would be helpful to prepare to counteract them.  They also just might use brute force, in which case you would need to have all of your fighters here at the ready. 
  
  "There is another thing," Hidius says.  "While we can't expect them to come through and around the mountains, see this stretch of open space between the mountains and the trees?"
  
  Rolomag squints at the map.
  
  "Yes, but what does that-"
  
  "If they move some soldiers through here," Hidius says, "they could easily hit this side with a concentrated force.  I suspect they would use cavalry to cover the gap as well."
  
  "Let me position more warriors there," he continues.  "I will keep the mountain patrol there.  But if we see any soldiers or cavalry, we can easily ride in and trap them in between the main force and this one."
  > attack Straight On
  "I like Rolomag's idea," you say.  "The chances of them utilizing either side is nonsense."
  
  "What? Fool!" Gro'tesk yells.
  
  Grolik's eyes snap to you in surprise.
  
  "Nolazir," he says, "are you serious?  This is stupid.  You were the one always going on about how pure strength alone won't win this."
  
  "I can't say I agree at all," Hidius says, "but if I can't change your mind, I will obey."
  
  Rolomag just sits back in silence. 
  
  You nod to all of them and roll up the map.
  
  "I know this won't be easy," you say, "but I know we can do this.  We'll still have the reserves to help us, but as I see it...  we're gonna be able to just push through them."
  
  Grolik shakes his head.
  
  "I don't know about this, Nolazir," he says.  "Why don't we think about this again?"
  
  "No," you say.  "I have decided."
  
  Grolik sighs and goes off to get his orcs ready.  The rest do the same.
  > preparations
  Days later, your troops stand at attention, their mail armor and weapons gleaming in the sunlight.  The red tendrils of the rising sun cast themselves over the sky, piercing the clouds like slender fingers eager to reach into what lay beyond.  The wind's breath carries the fresh morning air through the field, passing through each warrior; the wind carrying the breath they might otherwise hold in anticipation of what lays ahead.
  
  The orcs stand before you, ready to move forth at the sight of the Mannate Empire.  The reserves wait in the rocky hills behind you.  While not appearing so, many orcs are nervous, as any would be before a large battle; but, with hope in their minds and courage in their hearts, they stand by you.
  
  Your horse shuffles, it's ears pricking up.  The song of the Empire trickles from the forest, quietly at first.  But, as the first humans emerge, their hauberks showing crests of their nobles, the standard bearers proudly emerge, their counterparts blaring trumpets and horns.  How kind of them to announce themselves, yet so arrogant.
  
  The columns of Mannate warriors spill forth.  They move simultaneously.  They do not waver or break form.  Their perfect union a direct affront to the free and natural order that was intended for all.
  
  The human soldiers stand at attention, all saluting as their officers move up and down the line.  Some appear to inspect their warriors, some seem to be doing a lot of shouting.  Others stand calmly in front of their columns. 
  
  One knight, which you recognize as such by the helm he wears, rides out in front of the column.  He waves a white flag ahead above him.
  
  "I think they wish to speak," Hidius says.
  
  You scowl at the human riding forth, as if you could not have him crushed.  His hands held up and flag waving as a sign of peace.
  
  Spurring the horse beneath you to meet this human, you keep your hand by your sword. 
  
  Stopping several feet away from the Imperial, you both meet in the field between your armies. 
  
  "Hail Orc," the knight says.
  
  You grunt in response.
  
  "General Levalier has sent me to parley. Will you speak?"
  
  "I will."
  
  "Who may I ask do you speak for?"
  
  "Myself."
  
  "So you are this rabble's leader?"
  
  Peering through the slits in the knight's helmet, his eyes light up in understanding.  His other hand, which lays free of the flag, twitches slightly by his sword.  Your hand already rests near yours.
  
  You peer into the eyes of the knight, your eyes narrowing as you do so.  The soldier looks back, and both of you sit there in silence.
  
  His hand slowly moves away from his sword as he shifts to hold the flag with both hands.
  
  "I have been sent to ask you to disperse your forces."
  
  "No."
  
  "Brute, won't you listen to reas-"
  
  "No."
  
  "I say, while I would not expect a beast of your nature to understand politics.  At least hear the message my general has for yourself."
  
  "The only thing you need to do is go home," you say.  "You could save many of your soldiers' lives today."
  
  The knight huffs in exasperation and turns his horse around.  He gallops back, moving around the side of the columns.
  
  Grunting, you trot back to your spot among your comrades.  You don't trust that they will just up and leave after these years of skirmishes and preparation.  It seems that battle was fated to happen this day, it will progress no matter what words are spoken. 
  > attack!
  The trumpets across the field begin to sound, and the officers riding upon their horses shout and wave their swords around.  With all of your troops in position, you take your horn.  Exhaling, you blow into it, and the other chiefs under you do so as well.  The air is filled with the sound of war as you and your warriors pour forward.  The Mannate humans approach, weapons held tightly and the crest of their Emperor waving in the wind.
  
  Your orcs go to meet them, the might of Gigalak carries you forward to crush your enemies.
  > brute Force
  With all of your forces centered, the orcish lines meet the human's with unparalleled force.  You watch from your horse as weapons and shields collide.  Mail armor protecting both sides from grievous wounds.  It is not too long before your orcs push through the humans first line, bashing and knocking down warriors as the rest overtake them.
  
  The humans give a steady retreat, before spearmen move through the columns to give some support.  Two large columns come down and around from each side, taking a diagonal assault to your front.  On your orders, your fighters divert to stand against it.  As you wave your arm, two bands of cavalry swoop around your lines.  One lead by Grolik and his Red Handed, the other by Gro'tesk and various civilized orc tribes.
  
  Archers in each of your lines work to weaken your foes.  Hidius and Rolomag each lead one of the defending lines to your sides, and you command the center force.  With Gigalak's fist you break into the center.  As your lines push the Imperials back, some Imperial knights by Grolik shake up his assault.
  
  From where you are, you can't reach them.  But orcs from one of the columns rush forth, taking on the knights.  Many orcs to the right fall, but your overall army holds strong, and steadily you push the Imperials back.  The horses stepping over the crumpled remains of orc and human alike.
  
  Grolik blows his horn, rallying his troops.  Nursing a wound in his shoulder, he rides forward, inspiring his fighters to go forth.  Many fight on, even with life threatening injuries.  You gaze to the wave of orcs. 
  
  Grolik circles around them, yelling out orders.  In a moment, his eyes meet yours, before his face scrunches and his brows furrow.  Looking down to his chest, a bloody arrow protrudes from his heart.  Your friend goes limp and slumps off his horse, rolling as he hits the ground.  Many of his orcs stare in confusion, before a volley of arrows shows them the same fate.
  
  From the forest in the Southeast, a column of Imperial soldiers rushes out, covered by archers.  They do untold damage to your right flank.  They sweep in before your forces can organize a defense.  Roaring, you charge forward.
  
  Rolomag starts to divert troops.
  
  "No," you cry, "stay focused.  I've got this."
  
  As you ride by, you see Grolik's eyes glazed, and staring into the sky.  The arrow having gone straight through his heart, and spilling his spirit into the void.  Orcs continue to fall, as the diversion weakens your center line.  The humans in the center gain no ground, but don't lose any either.
  
  Something else in the distance disturbs you.  Circling around, a large cavalry rides through the open plain.  Between the mountains and the forest they go, sweeping into your left flank.  Hidius is just able to mount his horse, fighting off a knight.  You howl in agony as another one rides up behind Hidius, planting his sword through his back.
  
  Hidius falls quietly, and almost immediately.  Somewhere in the fray, you see Silak defending his chief's corpse before himself being killed.  As you rally troops to defend this side, Gro'tesk glances to you, his eyes flashing in anger.
  
  The lines and columns are all in a frenzy, being attacked viciously from multiple sides.  There is no semblance of lines and divisions.  All the orcs fight as one, the Imperials slowly pushing through with reinvigorated fury. 
  
  Slamming the butt of your axe into a hapless soldiers helmet, you let out a roar.  His helmet pinging and denting under your blow, his eyes bloodshot from the trauma.  The soldier twitches before laying still.
  
  The horse you are on cries out in agony, a couple of arrows piercing its chest.  Managing to leap off, you roll to the ground and stand bearing both weapons.  Just in time to meet the blades of bloodthirsty soldiers. 
  
  Hacking, slashing, and bashing you stand by your brethren.  As you remove the head of one soldier, another's spear finds its way through your armor.  Your mouth gapes in pain but you stay silent, grimacing and facing the soldier, you knock his spear away.
  
  With a grunt you shove the sword blade under his helmet and into his face.  Specks of crimson blood cover your arms as the soldier writhes, twitches, and dies.  On the right flank, the Imperials push Rolomag's line ever closer to this one.  The center also being pushed back.
  
  Rolomag, with several injuries, gives you a weary nod.  You are about to return it when Rolomag huffs and falls, an axe buried in his back.  Ahead of you, a beast of a man wrenches the axe from your fallen friend's back.
  
  You charge each other, weapons sparking and colliding.  Grinning, you slam the spike atop your axe into the man's ribs.  He ignores the pain and hacks into your side, breaking through the armor and embedding his axe into your ribs.
  
  Twisting, you make him lose his grip.  Your sword buries into the human's neck as his eyes widen in surprise.  Before you can twist the sword out, a burning sensation shoots through your side.
  
  The axe blade twists through your side snapping ribs and almost blinding you with pain.  Before you can move, the axe blade slams into your helmet.  As this happens a hand pushes you down, before you can twist around the handle slams into your helmet as well.
  
  It's not long before various weapons slam into your armor or pierce through it and into your flesh.  Your body aches all over, before feeling numb as you are overwhelmed.