A story of blood, love, and change... (Medieval Setting)

Warlord Sam

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CHAPTER ONE: The Transformation

Fourteenth Year of the Wind Spirit, Mycean Calander
(1286 AD, German Calander)

Gaaz woke up, feeling the bitter cold of the morning air on his bare back. He sat up, throwing the animal-skins off his lower body. The fire had died sometime in the night, and the ashes weren't even smoldering. Gaaz got up, and went to his water-jar. He shivered as he splashed his face and rinsed out his mouth, ridding it of the bitter taste sleep always left. Soon, the noise of morning in a Mycean camp began to fill the air. All around him, men woke and prepared for the long day ahead; today marked the beginning of the hunting season.

The sun had started its slow descent by the time the hunting party had stopped for its midday meal. Gaaz was among them for the first time, finally past his 17th winter. The men had done well this day, killing six wild boar and almost twice that many deer. Gaaz was imaging the winters-passing feast that would be held that night when suddenly, men on horses rode into their camp! These men had strange weapons and very small, neat beards, nothing at all like the Mycean men. Both groups seemed surprised and wary, but neither side wanted a battle. Finally, one of the strangers came forward, and spoke. His speach sounded familiar, almost a distorted version of Mycean. With gestures reinforcing his words, he was soon understood by the hunters, and invited to talk around the campfire with the eldest Myceans.
Gaaz looked at his best friend, Minn.
"What do you think it means?" Gaaz asked him.
"I just hope that the feast is still on", the ever hungry Minn said.

The men were brought back to the Mycean camp, where they were invited as guests for the feast. It was soon known that they called themselves Germans, and that they came from a great kingdom to the south. The village elders decided that it would be wise to show homage to the kingdom, as it was obvious the Germans were far superior. It was elected to send most of the village youths to serve under these Germans, to both learn their secrets and see the world beyond Mycean hunting lands. Gaaz and Minn said their goodbyes to family and friends, and within two days were heading south to the Kingdom of Germany.

"There it is, Gaaz."
After two months of travel, the young Mycean men were finally in Germany. Gaaz turned to where Minn was pointing, and saw a mountain rising up out of the fertile croplands. This land of Germany was so foreign to anything he had ever seen! As Gaaz examined the mountain, he noticed that it was not a normal mountain; the slopes were sheer, with corners and straight drop-offs, tiny caves all over the place... with a startling realization, Gaaz suddenly understood that this *was* Berlin! The Germans built and lived in mountains of their own!!!
"Its amazing, Minn!!! Can you imagine!? How long it must have taken! How will we fare in this foreign land?"
"Yes..." Minn replied, "I think we will do well here, in the Kingdom of Germany. Very well, my friend."

******************
After six months of training, the Mycean youths became the Third Infantry Division of the German Army under King Stoiber II. The young soldiers were also baptized into the Holy German Church in the year of 1286, AD, and given new names. Gaaz became Valin, and Minn became Sigifrin. The two friends were no longer Mycean tribesmen; their transformation was complete. They had become German soldiers.

A month after their baptism, they were sent to battle against the English horsemen of the east, in the First War of Conquest, Year of the Lord 1287 AD. (Look for this tale in the following chapters.)
 
:goodjob: :D :goodjob: :D

An excellent story, please continue.
 
CHAPTER TWO, (part one): Preparation

Spring of 1287 AD, German Calander
Fort Vicktus, Eastern Frontier

"Well, Valin. You have once again beat me."
Both the young men were breathing heavy, sweat dripping from their brows. Valin held his spear-tip to the throat of his best friend, who had lost his own spear a second before. Sigifrin smiled at his best friend, and was glad he'd never have to face Valin in real combat. Both boys laughed, and Sigifrin moved out from under the speartip. His opponent sighed, and began with his usual complaint.
"I'm going crazy, Sigi! Theres a war going on, and here we are wasting time."
Commander Arin, who had been watching the mock fight, cleared his throat. Both youths quickly stood at attention, with a clipped "Sir", and Sigi almost smiled when he noticed how red Valin's face had become.
"Actually, Valin, in the past few months I've seen every member of the Third Infantry Division improve his combat style and learn some discipline... not to mention teamwork. A "waste of time", as you say, would be sending you boys to die in the first minute of your first battle, against English troops who don't have half your potential. You Mycean boys are tough. You'll see action soon enough, and if you keep up your practice, you may even live through the campaign."
The commander walked off, and both boys finally stood at ease. Sigifrin grinned at Valin.
"You're a lucky guy. If that would have been any other commander, you'd probly be pulling some hard labor right now."
Valin agreed as the boys went to clean up and get ready for mess.

Two weeks later, the Third Infantry Division was assembled in the staging area of Fort Vicktus...
"England has fallen." Commander Arin held a tight grin on his face as the soldiers cheered halfheartedly; many were eager to prove themselves, and the Third Infantry, in battle.
"Don't worry, you'll get your chance at blood. You boys are going to be the first wave of a pincer attack on France. The Second Infantry, in England, will be the other side of the pincer." Commander Arin stopped talking and allowed the cheers to die down. This time, the cheers were full throated from every single soldier of the Third Infantry.
"The French couldn't defend against us on a single front... with an attack from both sides, we'll simply destroy them."
Commander Arin gave the march orders, and the Third Infantry moved out.
 
CHAPTER TWO, (part two): The Battle of Paris

Late Spring of 1287 AD, German Calander
France

"MAKE FOR THEIR FLANK" screamed Commander Arin, leading his division through the thickest part of the battle, which raged outside of Paris, France's capitol. The spearmen did well against the French warriors, mostly peasants armed with crude clubs or pitchforks. Valin thrust his spear at a particularly large Frenchman, but it was deflected by the brute's club. He grinned, revealing several missing teeth, and swung at Valin's head. Valin braced for the explosion against his skull, but realized it would never come after he heard Sigifrin's laughter.
"You'll be buying me some ale tonight, Valin!"
"Sigi, I'll buy ya a whole keg if you save my hide like that again!"
As if to punctuate their conversation, a dead French warrior fell in between them. Valin stood up, and surveyed the battlefield. The Germans appeared victorious once again.

Since the beginning of their pincer attack on France, the German army had not suffered a single defeat. Both the eastern and western devisions, as they had become known, already captured all major French cities other than the capitol and Rheims far to the north. With England all but defeated, it appeared that Germany would dominate the whole of the continent.

"Looks like the battle is over. Just a few pockets of fighting still goin' on, eh Valin?"
Sigifrin's comment broke Valin's thoughts on the war. Valin looked around, searching for a small fight where help was needed, when the giant doors to Paris' main gate began to open. Sigi assumed they were surrendering, when out road horseman after horseman! The French had held their cavalry in reserve, and the fresh horseman immediately began cutting a huge swath in the battle-weary German troops! Valin saw Commander Arin riding to meet them, and ran to join his leader in the fray.
*************
Look for the exciting conclusion to this battle in Chapter Three! :rolleyes: Sorry to cut this short but I'm going out to eat, and nobody is wanting to wait on me :p
 
CHAPTER THREE: A Hero is Born

Late Spring of 1287 AD, German Calander
Paris, France

"NO!"
Valin watched helplessly, running but knowing he wouldn't make it in time. The French horsemen had surrounded the few German troops rallying around Commander Arin, and were slaughtering them. Now only Arin remained, fighting from his horse. He looked like a god, his armor shining in the sun, blood flying all around... but the enemy was too many. For every Frenchman struck down, two more took his place. Finally, a French spear pierced Arin's armor. His sword-arm went rigid, the blade dropped. Another spear, then two more, went into the German commander. He fell, just as Valin reached the French lines. He thrust with his own German spear, striking out again and again, lashing into the French horsemen. Many had their backs turned, so intent on slaughtering the commander that they hadn't noticed the new threat on their flank. Soon enough, he reached Commander Arin. The Germans had seen his bravery, and rallied to Valin, offering protection to their dying commander.

Valin kneeled beside the broken body of his commander.
"Valin... brave Valin..."
"Don't talk, sir. I'll get some water."
"No, stay near," Arin said, as he grabbed Valin's leg, pulling him back down. He let out a tortured laugh, in between spouts of bloody coughing.
"Don't try to fool either of us. I am at peace with dying, Valin. You must keep up the fight, we can still win. Don't let a single death be in vain... not in vain..."
The German commander let out his final breath, and Valin was filled with a cold resolve. He grabbed Arin's bloody sword, and stood up.
"Men of Germany, we must defeat the horsemen! Our commander is fallen, but his spirit is still with us! He cared for his troops, each and every individual! Every death weighed heavily on his heart, and I know he was like a father to many of us... let our fight today be a tribute to his passing! FOR ARIN!!!!"
************
Valin lead the men of the Third German Infantry Division, weary and ill-equipped, to victory over the defenders of Paris. Rheims would fall two days later to the Second Infantry, thus ending the Eastern War of Aggression. Valin became a hero that day, proving his valor in combat, his skill with a sword, and his ability to lead. He returned to Berlin a hero, and was allowed to choose men from all three existing Infantry divisions to form the core of the new Fourth Infantry, the first swordsmen unit to be fielded by King Stoiber II.

Peace will only reign for two short years in the German empire; the ambitious king has his eyes set on the spice-rich kingdom of Russia, to the northeast. The people are tired of war... is Stoiber overestimating the loyalty of the Mycean youth, the boy who now commands the most feared and respected unit in the German army?
 
Excellent story !

Keep on the good work !

Can't wait to see if that Valin is going to take over Germany !

One more word : Screenshot !!!
 
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