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POV of a recruit
Brauzeit -26-Kaldezeit-7-2492
"My legs are burning…" I gasped, almost breathless, as the weight of the pack pressed my shoulders down as if I carried stones.
"Don't even say it," Lukas replied, dragging his feet. "I can't believe we have to march this far. One of my uncles served in the state army and he never ntioned marches this long, the kind that tear your legs apart… But look, the sun's going down. Rest must be close."
But rest never ca. The march went on endlessly, until, after what felt like another eternity, the order finally ca. The n collapsed onto the damp grass like empty sacks. So didn't even set up their tents: they just lay where they were, breathing heavily, eyes vacant.
That had been our life for over a week. Rise at dawn, eat in haste, march for hours, barely a pause at midday to chew a dry crust, and then walk again until the sun sank behind the forests. A cycle with no end.
We had already crossed into Talabecland. The landscape had changed: endless dark forests, narrow paths, and the constant feeling that sothing lurked among the trees. Only once did we spot a lone beastman, but the Elector Count's veterans didn't hesitate: they leveled their muskets and shot it down before it could flee. The creature fell among the branches and leaves, and the tallic stench of gunpowder mixed with the damp of the forest.
It was all pain. My whole body burned: legs, arms, back, neck. There was no redy but to grit teeth and carry on. The dwarfs marching with us seed to endure better. They moved more slowly on their short legs, often climbing onto wagons to keep pace, but their endurance put many to sha: they could march full days without complaint, with the sa stubbornness they showed when drinking ale.
Food was the only thing that kept us sane. With the flour we carried we baked bread in portable ovens hauled on supply wagons. To that was added dried at rationed each day, eggs when luck allowed, and thick soups where fresh beef from cows bought in the villages was thrown. The hot broth, with the strong taste of at and spices, was almost divine relief. Many said it was the only thing that let them sleep at all, even with legs burning and bodies trembling with exhaustion.
The weather worsened with each step. Leaving Altdorf behind, snow began to fall in scattered flakes. Rare in Reikland at that season, but in Talabecland it beca more common by the day. The white layer grew beneath our feet, covering roads, trees, and fields. We cursed the march, but blessed the thick clothes we had been given. At least they kept the cold from cutting to the bone.
We followed the course of a frozen river, advancing slowly, until we reached the castle of the Elector Count of Talabecland. It was a strange halt: we were made to wait for hours outside while our lord, the Prince of Marienburg, spoke with the local noble. None knew what was being discussed, though rumors spread from mouth to mouth: pacts, routes of march, or simply arrogance between lords.
At last the prince returned without explanation, and the column resud its path toward Talabheim, where we were allowed two days' rest. It was a necessary reprieve: we could sleep better, wash in the frozen river, repair boots and clothes. But even there we weren't spared training. This ti we practiced with spears and short swords, simulating basic defenses for when the lines broke. The instructors made it clear: firearms were our main tool, but in war there always ca a mont when powder ran out, or the enemy was simply too close.
The veterans of the Elector Count, barely five thousand hardened n from past campaigns, would be the first line in any battle. We, the new recruits, were expected to hold the rest.
In Talabheim, supplies were bought in staggering amounts. Hundreds of wagons loaded with grain, salted at, barrels of water, timber for stakes and nails for camp fortifications joined the army's baggage. With them also ca rchants, like carrion drawn to the sll of war, setting up along the edges of the column. They sold everything imaginable: thick clothes, trinkets, wineskins of smuggled liquor, even knives and "blessed" charms against witchcraft. Many began following us as though they were part of the army itself, always hoping to wring coins from weary and gullible soldiers.
Discipline, however, was kept iron-hard. Captains watched day and night, and all of us knew what happened if rules were broken. Every day n were punished, whipped until bleeding before the troops for drinking ale, for secretly hiring won, or for buying extravagant food from rchants. The prince had given a clear order: all would eat the sa, from commanders down to the last recruit. Whoever disobeyed would be punished publicly, during the al, so the lesson sank deep.
It didn't matter whether you were son of a peasant or of a burgher—on the march we all received the sa rations: bread baked in the portable ovens, dried at, thick soup with vegetables or with cows slaughtered in the villages we passed through.
rchants were tolerated only when the army camped and soldiers were released from duty. But while marching, contact was forbidden.
So we advanced on, deeper into Talabecland. The column stretched so far it was lost on the horizon, a river of n, horses, wagons, and powder. From Talabheim onward, a great crowd began following us. So were families accompanying sons or husbands; others beggars, prostitutes, or trinket-sellers. But most noticeable was the arrival of youths seeking to enlist.
Winter in Talabecland left many without work, and the army's pay was tempting. Hundreds of peasants and woodcutters joined the march, hoping to be accepted. And what was strange was that the farther we went from the city, the faster they were given uniforms and muskets if they t the requirents. The officers did not waste ti: you had to be tall enough to carry a firearm and have sound teeth so you wouldn't lose them biting powder bags. Those who passed were integrated at once, almost without training, and the next day they marched beside us as if they had been there from the start.
For many more days we kept marching along the roads of Talabecland, crossing endless forests and frozen fields where the villagers watched us pass. With each day our ranks grew: peasants, craftsn, stable boys. By the ti we left the outskirts of Talabheim behind, the army had gained almost three thousand more recruits, who quickly learned what it ant to serve.
After days of marching, we were finally granted a two-day rest. But it wasn't out of rcy: rumors spread that a great tribe of beastn had been sighted in the forest, directly on our route. The prince had given the order: we would not leave such vermin at our backs. They would be exterminated.
The musketeers were placed in fixed positions, lined up in tight ranks, with wax plugs in our ears to endure the thunder of the volleys. The air was thick with tension, a constant murmur between clenched teeth. The Elector Count's cavalry went into the forest first, scouting. It didn't take long before they ca galloping back, and behind them burst the chaos: dozens, perhaps hundreds, of those horned abominations, ard with bone and crudely forged iron, charging with a roar that chilled the blood.
My heart pounded so hard I thought it would break my ribs. The ground itself shook under the weight of those creatures, each one a monster of twisted muscle, fangs, and bloodshot eyes. The stench they carried was unbearable.
"Fire!" one of the officers bellowed.
I aid with trembling hands, pulled the trigger, and the musket roared against my shoulder. The recoil shook , the acrid stench of gunpowder filled my nose. I glimpsed bestial bodies collapsing in heaps, torn apart by the opening volley.
With clumsy hands I drew the ramrod, bit open the powder charge, and reloaded as best I could. Another group of beasts pushed through on the flank, waving axes and spears. Suddenly I felt a strong hand on my shoulder: one of the veterans shoved down.
"Get down, idiot!" he shouted.
I obeyed instantly, reloading crouched while another volley thundered over our heads. The second line fired above us, and I saw another wave of creatures fall, so split in half by the shots, others rolling in the mud, bellowing in pain.
I was just finishing my reload when a different roar tore through the din. I rose to aim and saw it: a hulking brute erging from the trees. Nearly three ters tall, with twisted horns and muscles so swollen they seed to split its skin. It wielded a monstrous sword.
"Concentrate fire, first line—fireeee!"
The shots ca in a relentless thunder. The entire first line unloaded on the monster, but still it advanced, staggering, taking lead with every step. Its chest beca a sieve of bloody wounds, and still it roared like a maddened bull. Only when a final volley tore its face apart did the creature finally collapse, raising a cloud of earth and snow stained red.
"Co on, reload, idiots, there are still more!" one of the officers shouted.
I repeated the process again and again, doing everything I could to keep from dropping the musket or the ammunition from my trembling hands.
Several tis I reloaded and fired, though terror gripped every ti I glimpsed one of those minotaurs. At least they never got close to us.
At last we had finished off nearly the entire tribe of beastn, who began fleeing back into the woods.
It didn't take long to realize we had won.
"We won… we won!" Lukas shouted, thrilled at our victory.
"What the hell are you talking about?" snapped one of the veterans in charge of us. "This was just a small skirmish. We don't have ti to scour the woods of beastn. This was nothing—just three minotaurs." He glanced over the field littered with corpses.
"Only three? We killed those monstrosities with great difficulty," I said, stunned by the soldier's indifference.
"The Prince of Marienburg can kill one by himself… I once saw him take down three, playing with them. Yes… the man has perfect aim—straight to the eyes, blinds them instantly. This here was nothing, boys. In Middenheim we killed hundreds of thousands in one campaign. But our goal here isn't the beastn. It's to reach Ostermark and deal with the Kislevites. So pick up your things and get ready—the place is clean, and we march on." The veteran bent to help move bodies as he spoke.
We didn't take long to burn all the beastn corpses, enduring the vile stench of their flesh. Then we began marching again toward Ostermark.
At least with each day the weight of the pack seed a little less, but the march never stopped until we reached Bechafen. Finally, after what felt like an eternity in Talabecland, we had arrived at our objective.
Arriving early in the day, we quickly set up camp outside the city while our lord entered to begin negotiations.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let know.
Leave a comnt; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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