14 - Battle

Blood, screaming, carnage...

I think it was Scott, who died first. Or, maybe it was Cate?


So much violence.

When a crazed man with three arrows sticking out of him is swinging an ax at you, there's not much in the way of rational thought or observations. There's just blood, gore, and chaos.

In the end, really, it's just chaos.

"HOLD!" I remember someone shouting that, in the start. [Berserker] for a class must give some serious perks in battle, because my spear was a surprisingly perfect hit, and it didn't make a lick of difference. Impaled or not, they just kept coming. Even as more spears, from the troops behind us, layered in over our shoulders. Some of the enemies attacking might as well have been kabobs, but they didn't die.

At least, not nearly fast enough for our sake.

One of the opposing figures was a cut above the rest. [Greater Berserker] stood boldly compared to those around him, and his weapon was a force of nature. Two handed, the battle axe cleaved through half a dozen spear- to break part of our line. On either side, ferociously screaming men dived forward, seizing the gap.

The battle was met, in all the worst ways.

Scott went down.

That's how it happened... yes, Scott went down first. Then- then it was Cate. Mars was knocked down, but someone pulled her back, and one of our side took her place. At some point, I tripped, I think. I ended up on the ground, next to them. Not so lucky as Mars, someone stepped on me, another person fell on me. More bodies crashed into the line, more Berserker-kabobs, screaming and shouting. Then, the spear line was being pushed against bodies.

Not really a retreat, but step by step, things were getting wedged too tightly. I was getting stomped on as people moved. Whoever's body happened to be on top of mine, saved me from some of it, until it began to smother me. Moments later, I was fighting for air.

Mike, I realized.

It was Mike's body, on top of mine.

The wound was so bad, I didn't even realize it was him for what must have been minutes. The armor we were given didn't stop the ax he'd been hit with at all. Not the first attack, or any of the ones that must have followed it. Beneath him, surrounded by other bodies, I waited as the noise faded. Peeking out, I could see the armies were clashing, but far off. The flank we'd been assigned to was mostly... not calm, but not nearly as violent. The [Greater Berseker] fell, a pincushion. It seemed that soon after, the last of the [Berserkers] had finally been put down, and the line was approaching again. From the horns and horses emerging to lead, I had to assume there was an intent of circling around the enemy, but for all I knew there was some other objective.

The enemies reacted to this. Archers, or some other ranged group, shouting and running nearby. Either away, or towards them, I held my breath on and off, praying they wouldn't find me. There was no point in getting up early, and winding up dead for no reason at all.

So, I lay there, quiet among the dead, until nightfall. Until I had identified everything and anything. Until the bodies around me had begun to grow stiff.

[Criteria Met]

[Special Skill - Obtained] - [Hide Presence]

[Hide Presence] Level 1

You have hidden yourself in plain view of the enemy, and lived to tell the tale. While so might think of you as a coward, it's likely better than being a dead coward.

Finally, I pulled myself free and began to limp back to camp.