A memorable battle
romeo_longsword
cloudy sky. I knew we were going for an attack, but I just did not
realise it would seems so, confusing.
All the cable fighters were coming out from their homes while still
adjusting their equipments; some are strapping their blades on, while
some are putting their arrows on their back.
I was standing there in the town central green, nice and early, since
this was the first battle I was taking part, I wanted to show my
enturisum and my discipline by standing still even under this heavy
rain. I stood there and was facing the ground, crossing my eyebrows
hoping the rain will stop hitting right into my eyes.
My hair became wet and weighty, slapped on my cheeks, with the occasion
sparkles of chills hitting on the sides of my face, deflected by my
leather armour.
Soon, more fighters came and gathered, standing by me in formation and
order, surrounded me like a set of walls. As a young elf, I was short
and small; my eye levelled was only to their shoulder height. Since I
could not see very far a head, my attention draw downwards, and onto
the elven bow held by the fighter on my left.
His bow was deep dark red with traditional stylish decorations across
the bow frame. The heavy rain drip down its water resistant surface,
before the rain reached to the handle, it is then soaked by a small
piece of robe.
I also held a longbow, I remember it was so large I could not held it
up without having one end of the bow dipping into the muddy ground,
while half of it was covered in mud, the other end is soaked with rain
water.
Further looking at his equipments, while his hordes of arrows has
feathers so well formed and fresh that would made the arrows give out
the impression if though its was alive. On the other hand, I was still
using the twenty arrows I have been using to practice in the last few
days.
With the rain consistently splashing on my face, deflected from the
other fighters, I begun to question my romantic idea of warfare, the
goal of me becoming a war hero was smashed by the uncomfortable
sensation. My twenty wet arrows that looked more like a pack of dead
chickens, and a bow that appeared to be more like a shove betrayed my
confident.
Further a head in front of the troop, a misty figure appeared in a
distant; our commander was giving out orders. As walls of bodies and
endless raindrops surrounded me, I did not hear his order and plans.
But with a big group cheer, "Harr!" Our troop seems to have agreed
anyway, and then we begun to set off into the wildness, my first battle
experience has begun.
Following the fighter with the red bow seems to have kept them happy
with my position. When you are new to the troop, you always try to find
yourself a war buddy, somebody you rely on in a relationship that you
looking after each other. In this trip, I have picked him as my war
buddy, I planed to be hiding around him, and copy his action throughout
this trip. I believed this way, I would learn what to do, and when the
times come, I would fight hard protecting him from harm. But with the
appearance I had at the time, I did not tell him about the
"unspoken" teamwork I have planed.
As we were matching up a hill, we all changed our pattern of breathing,
into a slow and relax rhythm, we were aware of our breath under such
misty weather would give our position away. I continued as quite as I
could, however, I realise that I was creating a strange sounds with my
feet.
Most of us that day had put on a set of handsome leather boots,
suitable in almost all weather condition. But I did not come from a
rich background; my "boots" were constructed by a pair of leather
soles, rapped by muti layers of bandage.
As the wet ground wears the bandage lose, the muddy water was going in
and out of my boots, making a mud flapping sound every time I placed my
feet on the ground.
After a while, even a few elves turned around and looked at me pulled a
few strange expressions.
We were then hidden behind a pair of small cliffs where the bushes and
green would provide cover for us, we stayed low and waited for a long
time, I hear some noises from a distant, everyone extended their necks,
straighten their backs. Suddenly, I saw some rapid movements from
another division a head of us, from that, I realised the attack has
begun.
It was very quite; there was no drum rolls, no cheer, just a lot of
whispers between the fighters and random sound waves of arrows, cutting
across the air.
After a while, all was claim again, and the attacking elves came closer
to us and gave our group some gestures, then on the top of the hill,
there appeared a pack of orcs, raiding on wrangs, matching along the
path and firing bolts into all the bushes.
Some of us were injured, but managed to held the pain without producing
any noise, other fighters could only encouraged the injured one by
holding their hands really tight, take them lay behind us.
As the splashing sounds from the footsteps of the orc troop getting
closer, a loud and high pitch voice yelled, another division of archers
far behind us all fired into the pack of orcs.
The very first moment we heard the yelling, our commander commanded us
with a gesture with his open hand and confident movement, meaning,
"Hold". Until the rain of arrows falling down from the air, digging
into the ground and cutting the air with such orchestra of high pitch
sound; the orcs reacted and begun rushing into their direction. As
their wangs sprinted towards to them, our group stood up and all fired
at them at once. Being alter, but stiffed, I could not react in time,
but only managed to ready my bow and arrow aiming at the direction.
I remember while holding that bow, I was thinking to myself, "thumb,
thumb thumb". This is because, I tend to worked out a disciplined
that, which ever the direction of my thumb is pointing, that would be
the direction of the arrow would go.
As I got my thought straight, ready to fire, the sound of battle become
very distracting, the orcish crier was strange and intimating, while
the sound of the blades hitting against each other sound totally
different than I am used to at sparing. It sounded like if two metal
club hitting against each other, rather then flexible metallic sound I
expected.
The rain created a misty vision, I could hardly see the whole picture
of the battle, let a lone aiming. As I have repetitively attempted to
aim endlessly, suddenly, an elven body dived towards to me through the
long grass; I was shock and fired my shot.
Luckily, with my incompetent archery skill at the time, it fired
towards to some random direction into the air, followed by myself
fallen down.
In the state of shock of fear, I quickly attempted pushed myself to
find my war buddy. Rolled my body through the went ground, my cheap
leather armour was lose, and half of my body is now covered in mud form
my hair to my toes.
As I tried to run, I had lifted my wet armour and clothing slamming
against my body each step I took. This strange and new sensation at the
time, combined with the whole surrounding, I almost felt death was
near. As I was running around the battlefield, watching the fights
taking place, I suddenly slept down the hill. Losing control, I still
tried to keep quite, thinking about it, my expression must have been
great embarrassed.
Sliding down with my arms swinging around, I slammed into an Orc.
I have never seen anything like it. I looked at it with fascination and
shock as I was falling down to the ground, you would expect anyone to
fall, slamming against such brick wall; I then realised these things
truly are built for warfare.
>From my perspective, I could not see its expression, I could only see
plenty of rain drops falling in to my eyes, but I could tell its body
gesture that he was looking at me over his shoulder, about to take a
strike at me.
My self defend system started to react, I did not take another look and
just clawed as fast as I could away from the orc. My legs were pushing
so fast that; my arms could not keep up with it. Rolling in the mud, I
suddenly felt that everything around me seems to be in slow motion.
Later I learnt that, its called the "shock break", it is because
your body has been in such a high degree of shock, you become drained
out of energy, therefore it enter in a state of a shock break,
regaining some energy so your body can be in shock again.
IN this shock break, my hearing has almost been switched off, and
everything seems in such slow motion, all I could remember think was
that I was praying for some sort of magical help to get me out of this
situation.
Thinking to yourself does help in some degree, I opened my eyes wide,
biting my teeth and I managed to get up and ran forward a few steps,
suddenly, I could hear well again, and everything now was in a speed up
motion. I felt that the orcs was not near, to confirm my pleasant
thought; I turned around to have a look.
What I saw was the most upsetting sight that I could find that day, the
large orcs was holding one of our fighter by the neck, pushed him down
on his need and about to strike with his raised scimitar.
My first reaction was to turn back to the direction where I was
running, but within a split of a moment, a over complete mixture of
feeling made me trued my head to the orcs and scream in such a voice I
could never imagine I could produce.
"Baaaawahhhhhaah!!!" I think I said.
As the crier strike through the air, the moment was dark, as from the
crier, every archers, everyone from our pack, fired arrows at the orcs,
many of them was fired from behind me, just passed my ears.
I had never ever felt so sure, and confident in a battle from that day.
The cried, might be called as the cry for help, or a crier from a
natural defend system. But as the years go pass, the crier that day,
became more and more meaningful. It was a unity for all of us, no
matter where we were facing, it produced such a power that it kept one
of our warrior a live, and a call to awaken our instincts on what
matters to all of us, its us as a unity.
The orc that I screamed at, ended up covered in such amount of feathers
that, I named it "The chicken of war", a little joke that nobody
appreciated at the time.
And now, I am all alone away from my homeland and my people, I accepted
this lonely path long ago and have not fantasised in any other way. But
when ever such density of rain hitting on my face, and such raining
sound striking on the ground, I feel my people are all here with me
again. Each splash of the rain drops is like the hugs they used to give
me. Each drop on my leather glove is like hand shakes we had.