Snippet #1866768

“We march for Cirdore...'And we shall know no fear!'..”

The war-cry echoed all throughout Ophelia’s body, reverberating off each and every bone, renewing it's vigor with each droning step she took. All around her the twisted trees of Eganthill loomed, stretched arms risen towards the heavens, boney bark fingers gnarled towards each other, thick skin-like leaves nestled amongst one-another, creating a maleficent canopy that only the most stalwart rays of light dared pierce. Mighty trunks of IronWood surrounded on all sides, standing shoulder to shoulder like soldiers, providing only tiny crevasses to slip through, and swaths of ample shadow for those with fowl intend to hide, while mighty, jagged roots jutted from the ground at obscure angles, making the terrain a nightmare to traverse. The animals had long fell silent, and the ghoulish breath of chilled air howled mournfully, like a Revenant looking for her former love, drowning out the heavy footfall the Vanguard and her soldiers.

The trees had been softly declining for days now, and the company of soldiers had finally pushed themselves into seemed like a small clearing. “Halt...” Ophelia’s icy hiss shattered the silence she and her men had been entrenched in for days, and for sureties sake she rose her hand to formally signal the order which her troops obeyed without hesitation, falling into a line behind her.
“I don't like this..” A gruff and ragged voice clawed itself from the owner's throat, drenched in unease. “I don't like this at all, Captain..Why would we stop here? This clearing doesn't seem safe in the lea-” Before the man could finish his descending sentence, Ophelia had spun around on the heel of her thick plate boots, and backhanded him with a mighty iron gauntlet, before grabbing his throat. “What exactly are you implying solider?” Her voice was a cascade of fury. “That my judgment is unsound, or that you're afraid? Tell me, which one do you want your death to be for?”Tensions had been running high for the last week, and the normally firm, but reserved Captain was far beyond her last nerve, and fully intend to kill at this stage, but before she could continue her irate barking a single, soft, metallic “click” rang out from the ring of trees around them.

“Captain,” The rear soldier spoke up now, but in vain due to Ophelia’s mood. “I can hear it, soldier.” She hissed. “That means the scouts were right, they have heretics with them...Form up, now! Sound off, ascending, now!” The command and urgency in her voice was more than enough to instill raw fear into the soldiers, who took position in a circle around her, kneeling and with rifles drawn.
“Phrax, Aye.” “Kalin, Aye.” “Ferras, Aye.” “Jarris, aye.”
The soldier's droning barely registered with their Captain as her steely green eyes darted between each and every tree, noting the gun barrels behind most, and adrenaline-floodgates opening with each. Her raised hand slowly clenched into a white-knuckled fist. “Hold steady, men. Fire on my mark..” Time itself seemed to pause for the warriors, every moment they took, precise, every muscle twitch, calculated, and every finger rested heavily on a trigger.

“For Harak's honour, ATTACK!”

The forest erupted with the sound of MarkVIII rifles, trees groaned and splintered as high caliber rounds tore their bark like flesh apart, while screams and heavy thuds swelled amidst the cascade of bullets., and Ophelia’s howling voice rose above the chaos. “Let these degenerates know who comes to claim their lives today!” “FOR THE GLOURY OF THE HONOUR GUARD!”
Each man stood fast as bullets sailed past them by fractions of inches, each man pressed the assault when bullets dared hit them, and each man roared in a bloody fever when their bullets bit flesh, but it was quickly realized that the were making no true headway. Frustration as wave after way of heretic shattered on the Honour Guard's defense finally broke loose. “Form tighter, men! Supportive fire only, rain Harak's fury upon them!” The Captain's hoarse shout was issued as the formidable woman broke into a full sprint, right into a river of bullets.

Blinding fury consumed her without remorse. Judgment and self awareness were lost in the frantic fury of her deafening heartbeat, and the thundering of her grieves. The human and Ladren forces had no clue as to what hit them. Ophelia had managed a fifty yard dash in full plate in record time, and leaped with all her might, crashing down on a Human gunner, crushing his ribs with a sickening crash. Like a savage she whirled around to her next victim, grabbing him by the throat with such extreme force not only did his neck break, but when she flung his corpse it's head tore clean off. Grabbing the axe that rested on her left hip, and issuing a roar of raw blood-lust as she wildly launched herself at the gawking Ladren. Harsh steel bite through iron, steel, boiled leather, flesh, and bone, as horrific cracks and scream flooded from the treeline as a virtual river of blood began to flow.

The four Warriors, still in the clearing, long out of ammo at this stage merely stood, and waited for their Captain, or the Ladren to show themselves. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes ticked on, and on, and on, until a soldier finally spoke up. “Do you think she got herself killed..?” The highest ranked of them opened his mouth to answer, but a completely naked, and blood-soaked woman beat him to it. “And what kind of idiotic question is that?” Shock and awe hit the men, who stuttered and bulked for words. “Captain..Wh...What happened? Where are they? Are we..Safe?” In response, a devilish grin fell upon the blooded captain. “Any warriors they had are dead, check corpses, collect ammo, and arms, find my armour in there somewhere, then burn it. All of it. Start a fire, and let it eat away at this good forsaken pit of a forest. Someone'll put it out eventually..And call for a goddamn evac..I've got some bullet wounds just dying to meet a doctor..”