Helmwod was a bit stricken at being separated from his brother’s and cousins in the ranks, but wouldn’t admit it; Egfor was an archer, he was somewhere up higher with his bow, one of Helm’s brothers was a medic and he was busy running around seeing to people. Two brother’s were engineers, and they were up with the siege equipment. Helmwod was a spearman, a common infantry man. Helm was alright with that, as he did not want nor need any special training. He was used to wielding a spear on boar hunts, though, he mused, the boar had more intelligence than an orc.
Helm shifted a little, his armour creaking with the movement. He cast a look around, seeing a sea of ashen pale faces and golden hair, crested helms and gleaming spears and swords. Helm grimly wondered how many of his kinsmen would actually survive the night.
He could not see the orcs, as he was too far back, but he could definitely hear them. He heard the thundering march of thousands of feet, their guttural roar and screams thirsting for blood and death. He swore his heart pounded along with the orc’s drumming and slamming of feet and spears.
The man beside Helm started to weep in fear. Without thinking, Helm turned and kissed the man firmly on the mouth. The man’s weeping ceased immediately in surprise, as he kissed Helm back, “Don’t… Don’t tell my wife.” Helm chuckles softly, letting the man go, “Sorry, I shant tell, my lips are sealed…”
“Well, it calmed me down, thank you.” Helm smiled faintly at the man, shifting a little closer, both of them grasping for some semblance of comfort in the wake of the war. Helm felt all the spearmen collectively hold their breath as they heard the clatter of arrows being nocked and bows being drawn above and behind them. He looked up, marveling momentarily at the sight of the arrow volley being released before it slammed him back into reality. The battle has begun.
Helm jerked his head forward with a grim face, checking his weapons one last time. The roar of the orcs and men below chilled him to the core. He heard a shout, “Shields up!” With a practiced precision, the ranks lofted their shields above their heads to protect from a volley. Helm winced as his shield vibrated with the impact of arrows.
Another shout, “Spears ready!” They collectively lowered their shields into a battle stance, forming a wall of shields and deadly spears for orcs to wash up on. Crude ladders clattered on the stone, orcish faces climbing over it, sneering. The orcs behind were over eager, pushing their fellows onto the deadly spear points. Helm swore as the orcs quite literally clambered over the shieldwall to the back ranks. Chaos broke out and the shield wall dissipated, every man suddenly being swarmed.
Helm fought relentlessly, fighting through his ebbing exhaustion, a pile of bodies building up at his feet. A bright flash and a deafening explosion erupted to his right, knocking all orcs and men on his segment of the wall off their feet. Helm sat dazed for a moment before leaping up to his feet, spear in hand. He stared in abject horror as the wall that his cousin was once stationed on was no longer, dust and debris falling down around them. A scream tore from his throat, “EGFOR!” Helm fought back tears and fought more, not even paying attention to how many he fought.
He looked up sharply, hearing a familiar voice cry out. Egfor was alive, having pulled himself from the rubble. The man was coated in stone dust, blood crusted to the side of his face and beard. Helm hesitated, watching his cousin fight like a feral wild beast, rending orcs apart with his bare hands and an axe, survival seemed to be the only thing on his mind. Helm is roused from his daze feeling a spear point slip into his ribs. The man howled in pain and turned to return the favour to the orc that struck him
