Dig trenches he says.<br/><br/>Alistair had never been so sick of digging in his life. Sure, this would help them immensely in pushing back the Tutar savages, he saw no reason to disagree with that, but that didn’t mean<span style="font-style: italic">he</span>wanted to be the one digging amongst all of these people. He was a knight, and his duty was to fight, this did not suit him at all. Leave the digging to the people who were not as important as a knight was. That’s what should have happened.<br/><br/>But no… this had to be a group effort, didn’t it? They were supposed to band together and all that.<br/><br/>He grunted as he plunged the shovel into the soft earth, muttering something unpleasant under his breath. It felt like he has been at this for ages. This had to be the most tedious thing he has ever done in his life. It was dirty, tiring, and he wanted to just walk away and do something else. In fact, he would be happy if he didn’t have to look at a shovel for the rest of his life. They should be resting up. What good would they be once the Tutar decided to strike, and they were all exhausted from digging?<br/><br/>Sighing heavily, Alistair stopped digging and rolled his shoulder and the wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. His hands were too covered in dirt. He glanced around at the others, who were putting everything they had into these trenches. Well, some of them anyway. He noticed there was a group of soldiers talking amongst themselves nearby. Alistair narrowed his eyes and frowned, tempted to shout at the group. If he had to dig, so did that lot, he thought. But then he got another idea in his head.<br/><br/>Alistair examined his progress, and estimated he had dug good few feet. Earlier in the day, he had helped to finish one trench. He decided this was good enough. Though the ‘trench’ he was working on now looked like he had been digging for some kind of buried treasure than actually digging a trench, it was better than nothing. Hey, digging these trenches wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.<br/><br/>He walked over to one of the men and tossed his shovel in his direction.<br/><br/>The man, taken by surprise, was nearly hit in the head with it, “What the hell?” He arched a brow and looked at Alistair with mild confusion and irritation.<br/><br/>“Your turn,” Alistair grunted.<br/><br/>“What?”<br/><br/>“It’s your turn to dig.”<br/><br/>“Excuse me? I we just got done digging out our trench. The look on the man’s face, as well as the faces of the men around him, were filled with irritation. “You’ve barely put any effort into what you’ve done,” he said, pointing to where Alistair had just been.<br/><br/>Alistair just shrugged, making a face as he dug his index finger into his ear, “Sure I have, put forth effort. I’ve been digging all day… I don’t appreciate being accused of being lazy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a nap. Wake me in a few hours.” As he started to walk away, stretching, he let out an exaggerated yawn. The men he left behind looked on with glares of indignation. They muttered something under their breath, which were more than likely unpleasant things, but Alistair had moved out of earshot and their words had fallen on deaf ears.<br/><br/>As soon as he was a few feet away from the tents, he could see the scout team returning. Judging from the looks on their faces, the news they were bringing was not anything good. Of course, it was to be expected that they wouldn’t bring any good news he supposed. But he wanted, for a moment, to be hopeful that their moment of peace would last a bit longer.<br/><br/>However, that was shot down he got close enough to hear what news the scouts were bringing the Prince.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"The Tutar, My Prince. They come. From the northern reaches of the Ravine, as you predicted."<br/><br/>"How long?" <br/><br/>"A few hours at the most. They will be here before nightfall." <br/><br/>"How many?”</span>Silence, then, receiving no response, the Prince continued,<span style="font-style: italic">“How many, Ayala?"<br/><br/>"Many thousands, My Prince. I would say it is nearly twice the size of the force that sacked Linden and stormed Castle Krinwulf." <br/><br/>“Are you sure?"<br/><br/>"I… I've never seen anything like it."</span><br/><br/>Well, so much for that nap. Alistair frowned a bit, looking around at the startled faces of the soldiers who had been standing around listening in.<br/><br/>“Alistair!” A voice called out. He looked up to see a knight on horseback approaching him. “Don’t just stand there,” the man said, sounding impatient and irritated. “We need your help getting ready.”<br/><br/>“Now? But we’ve been digging trenches all day! Can’t I get a nap first?”<br/><br/>“Absolutely not. Get your ass back to work. We need to move faster, and then gear up.”<br/><br/>The ‘few hours’ had seemingly flew by in one huge blur. Before long, the Tutar were on the attack before he had a chance to blink; their war-cries seemingly shaking the very foundations of the earth. If the trenches weren’t suitable already, there were sure to be more cracks in the earth from these roars alone. It didn’t take anyone long to realize what was happening. The Tutar were out for blood, here to kill. Here to put an end to everything, and destroy what remaining forces there were until they were all that remained on Soluunar.<br/><br/>Alistair quickly grabbed his axe, and mounted the nearest horse. He watched as the soldiers began charging toward the seemingly endless blur that was the Tutari army. His heart was racing.<br/><br/>Once the cavalry was on the move, he wasted no time charging into battle at full speed.<br/><br/>Arrows from both sides flew past him as he urged the horse to barrel toward two Tutari soldiers, axe raised. He let out a battle cry of his own, amongst the thousands of others, to him a symbol of the will to live, and swung as hard as he could at the soldiers. His axe hit the mark. The Tutari soldier had their head taken clean off before he turned to strike the other. That one had managed to avoid sudden death but had suffered a major blow to the temple that he probably wasn’t going to recover from any time soon.<br/><br/>Despite his whining over being exhausted earlier, he was putting in a lot of effort and enthusiasm now. The adrenaline running through him kept him focused on the battle. was hard to maneuver on horseback, due to the sheer number of soldiers on either side, and the trenches that had been carved into the earth, but he was managing well. Well, at least for now. He knew he shouldn’t get too comfortable otherwise he would lose focus. He was still needed out here on the battlefield, where he truly felt alive.<br/><br/>There was nothing but the clash of metal and the smell of blood and sweat out here.<br/><br/>Alistair let out another yell and swung his axe at yet another Tutari soldier. This one was particularly burly, with large fangs and a hideous snout-like nose. He, too, was wielding an axe. The two weapons collided, and it became a battle of force, which caused Alistair to be thrown from his horse. The Tutari soldier kept coming for him. He barely had time to block the attack and prevent being chopped in half.<br/><br/>He put up both hands. One hand grabbed the handle of the axe, the other grabbing the Tutari’s wrist, desperately trying to steer the blade away.<br/><br/>The horse that threw him off was seized by another one of the Tutari and had its throat ripped out. Great. It was thing horses were expendable, but he would have liked to have saved the energy he needed for fighting on foot for a later time. That was just how war was, unpredictable. He had no choice but to go with the flow.<br/><br/>That was until the Prince’s voice boomed over the sounds of battle:<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"FALL BACK! FALL BACK RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"</span><br/><br/>Alistair wasted no time in obeying the command. It was difficult to see anything, there were so many soldiers, so much fighting, hell Alistair could hardly even think straight beyond the fighting. But he could feel something sink into his gut. Something even more sinister had fallen over the battlefield. A cold sweat was building up on his brow, and on the back of his neck. He really should not look at what was coming.<br/><br/>He didn’t want to know... He was a knight, he was out here fighting the enemy, no matter what… He was not supposed to feel fear.<br/><br/>Oh… but he looked anyway.<br/><br/>Drorghans.<br/><br/>He felt his jaw tense, “What the fuck? Oh… Gods have mercy…”<br/><br/>They were hideous things, worse than the Tutar. If he was not afraid of this battle before, he was now.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“THERE IS NO ROOM FOR FEAR, BROTHERS AND SISTERS! NOT NOW, NOT EVER AGAIN! WE FIGHT NOW FOR EVERYTHING WE KNOW AND FOR EVERYTHING THAT SHALL BE!"</span>The Prince shouted. Alistair just felt more afraid at these words.<span style="font-style: italic">"FORGET YOUR BANNERS AND FORGET YOUR KINGDOMS! YOU FIGHT FOR NO TITLES, NOW. NO RECOGNITION, NO LORDS, NO OWNERSHIP OF LAND. NONE OF THAT SHIT MATTERS ANYMORE! NOW YOU FIGHT FOR THE PERSON STANDING BESIDE YOU! YOU FIGHT FOR THE CHILDREN THAT WILL ONE DAY WALK UPON THIS LAND IN PEACE, REMEMBERING THE DEEDS OF THEIR ANCESTORS! WE SHALL ALL BE REMEMBERED FOR WHAT WE DO HERE, RIGHT NOW! WE SHALL BE REMEMBERED FOREVER!"</span><br/><br/>“If we do make it out alive…” Alistair had commented under his breath.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"I HAVE FACED THESE MONSTERS BEFORE! THEY ARE DRORGHANS, AND WE SHALL END THEM, JUST AS WE WILL END THE REST OF THIS HORDE! WE WILL BREAK THEM!"</span><br/><br/>He let out a shaky breath. As much as he wanted to be encouraged, this royally sucked. He wanted to crawl someone and remain out of sight until this whole thing was over.<br/><br/>But the Prince was right about one thing: this was going to be something to be remembered. That thought alone, though probably taken differently than intended, was enough to keep his morale up enough. He could still fight this battle. Whether he would life and see new generations walk upon a peaceful land, or die here and remain trapped in this endless battle, did not matter. This was history in the making, the future of Soluunar. He was not going to lay down his weapon and not take part in something like this. No, he would fight.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"WHAT DO WE FEAR?"</span><br/><br/>“Nothing!” He cried. It was uncertain whether he was crying out to give himself confidence, which in that case worked rather well, or if he was just doing it to help boost the morale of the others.<br/><br/>He charged into battle again with the others, axe raised. These monsters were just glorified Tutar, nothing more. These things could be killed. If it bleeds, it dies.<br/><br/>But all of that resolve was washed away as soon as he had come face to face with one of the advancing Drorghans. As soon as it laid eyes on him, he suddenly felt very small. The thing was huge! It looked even bigger up close and personal. There was no way he could fight these things… There was no way anyone could fight these damned things. What the hell were they thinking even attempting to fight these things?<br/><br/>“Fuck this…” Alistair turned around and tried to run away, back toward the camp. He fought his way through a throng of Tutari, putting every last bit of effort in getting the hell out of there. But he had been too slow. One swipe of the Drorghan’s claws had sent Alistair up into the air just like the Tutar soldiers earlier. A searing pain erupted in his shoulder, all the way to his torso. He flew a good few feet before crashing into a Tutar soldier, which had only added to his discomfort.<br/><br/>Alistair he was seeing stars for a few seconds and was brought back to reality only when he caught the stench of something foul.<br/><br/>He was in a trench, and the Tutar he had been thrown into had been impaled on a spear. There were other dead bodies as well. The best way to describe the scene was something like stumbling upon a sea of death. Mortals and Tutari alike. They were all dead; the expressions on their faces were frozen as if continuing to fight even in the afterlife.<br/><br/>An idea suddenly struck him. Despite the awful smell of blood and mud, he could stay down here. He wanted to live, not die. If he played dead down here there was a chance he might see another day.<br/><br/>It was brilliant!