Here's the background, parts of the world are still stuck in the 19th century and the "civilized" world is set in the mid to late 20th century so we get muzzle loaders, black powder along with breech loading weapons, bolt actions, automatics and self loaders for militaries of developed nations along with industry. The other world on the other hand is preindustrial and never invented gunpowder. Instead they use medieval weaponry and tactics, such as phalanxes, shield walls, line charges, horse cavalry type attacks etc.The merge did not happen in our world but rather in an alternate reality where the countries have a different history and ways of events unfolding than in our timeline, however for the sake of my own sanity I will refer it as "our world". The merge world creatures were spontaneously transported along with a portion of their lands over to the MC's world, with some of its inhabitants obtaining refugee status in some (((((cuqued))))) countries like the Kingdom of Norskea, while the rest of the world sees them as either subhuman or demons. Sometimes they build large sovereign settlements in already claimed land and that would cause conflict, either they would get what they want, or there would be more bloodshed. There are portals that merge with our world to the other world. The governments of the other side of the portals see the portals a bad omen, and so they forbid anyone from crossing over, as anyone who does never returns from our world. So in other words, we are an enigma to them. However people and objects from our world can cross over freely in and out. Eventually the portals destabilized and both world merged together, changing the continents and adding landmass. The ensuing chaos from which destabilized the world governments, and gave rise to new nations human or otherworldly.



The story is set in the former Federal States of Nortlande ie FSN (North Land) where the government has lost contact with the local governments and small townships completely, only maintaining control in a smaller portion of the country. As a result the rest of the former FSN has Balkanized completely into small independent city states and townships of humans, demihumans, fantasy creatures and "hot zones" that contain artifacts. The merge has brought all sorts of artifacts and creatures from the new world, ranging from your standard elf, orc, goblin, to gemstones that can cause the holder to internally combust at the cellular level. Or grass that can spontaneously crystallize its cell wall with cellulose to form spikes, or moss that can turn its photosynthesis into stored electric potential, to spider silk that is tougher than steel wire and can cut anything that even barely touches it.


ARC ONE: BAPTISM BY FIRE


>be Anon
>merge happened worldwide 10 years ago
>governments all over the world collapsed
>especially Zwarterian countries
>who am I kidding Zwaterian """""countries""""" didn't have governments they had like a shaman or some shit.
>the Federal States of Nortelande has completely balkanized and its power is now extremely restricted to the East Coast in areas near the capital.
>the military has collapsed and chaos ruled the streets
>until people started to pull together and form makeshift militias
>no-guns become has guns overnight as orc, goblin, white trash, and (((((nigger))))) raiding parties become the norm
>tfw it took the collapse of society for liberals to realize that the right to self defense is really important
>tfw they only realize this as Grun'rug and Tyrone penetrate miles deep into their women's rear echelons
>weliveinasociety.jpeg
>Elves live in the woods of the northwest FSN and anywhere with a lot of trees really. Dwarves assimilate well into cities and large human settlements nicely. Orcs and goblins live in tribe like settlements and don't contribute anything to society so they plunder and steal.
>some orcs are actually decent, something about a genetic disorder.
>overall, though some semblances of society and civility remain in the world, outside of the town and city walls, it's like the old Western Frontier Conflicts movies by Mint Weststeele
>in this world, might is right, and the right to bear arms and the arms to bear them are the mightiest of them all

Year 11 AM (After-Merge), in a seedy bar somewhere in north Nortelande
>"so Anon, what do you think of the contract? 10 silvers an hour and you're technically never off the clock while you're deployed, so that's... what? 24 golds per day for a whole month, that's 720 gold or 7200 silvers. Pretty good deal to me man." says the elf recruiter.
>"I suppose, what about the weapons situation? Are we to be issued weapons and ammo or are we paying out of pocket?”
>"You'll be provided with a standard issue firearm a week prior to the deployment from our company’s armory, you can bring along a sidearm too, but you’re gonna have to bring your own ammo for that. What gun you get depends on your operational status, if you're a big guy you'll probably end up lugging around a belt fed, I'd say you’re more of a bolt action or selfloader kinda fella."
>"What's the protocol for field findings?" you ask
>"Any artifacts you find is yours to keep, just make sure that you can safely contain it, last time some dickhead orc accidentally took home some Greenrock and gave his whole unit cancer. Thank the Gods for Bluewater artifacts... you know, sometimes I still feel it burning inside me."
>"I'll never be able to bear children again; that's partly why I'm a merc, elven culture dictates that we must contribute life the world for the lives we have taken, but now my village thinks I'm no better than a human..."
>ok current year but since she's cute you let it slide
>wait a minute
>"Oh shit it's not contagious is it?" you ask in exclamation
>"No Anon, but just don't touch my bodily secretions and you'll...
>...probably...
>... be fine." said the elf.

>*sighs* "so the mission is to train a bunch of new wood elf arrivals on small unit tactics and form a militia?"
>"correct"
>"against what?" you ask
>"the usual, orcs, gobbies, harpies, and what you humans call 'Nortelander-Zwarterians'?"
>"sweet heart you can just call them niggers."
>"oh? okay?"
>"...anyways, you'll get paid at the end of each week of your deployment. You'll deploy with a company sized element, so around 150 combat personnel; however the size of the unit you'll be fighting with might vary depending on you operational status. Any further questions?"
>"wait a minute, I thought we were just gonna be training the woodies, not actually participating in combat operations?"
>"well... expect the unexpected, you should know right? From what I heard you deployed to Markaya during the Markayan Emergency before the Merge."
>you rub the massive machete scar over your right brow and cheek
>"I don't wanna talk about it."
>"Ok, sore topic."
>she shifts uncomfortably in her barstool. Her ears twitching, her fair hands playing with her shoulder length auburn hair.
>she loosened her tie and unbuttons her shirt collar, patting down her knee length dress.
>"You know what? Drinks on me." she said, "Bartend! A whisky for for my friend here!"
>you and her finish a whole bottle of whisky together
>the knife ear's got a pretty cute identical twin.
>"So Anon? Will you accept the contract? 720 fucking gold!"
>she gets pretty vulgar when drunk too
>"Ahhhh, fuck it! I accept!" you exclaim in an inebriated stupor
>she hands you a pen.
>you touch her hands; they’re soft yet hard
>"... say Anon, I haven't told you my name yet have I?"
>"N… no, don't bother. I don't want to know." you reply as politely as you can
>she looks hurt, a lock of auburn hair falling over her emerald green eyes.
>"ok" she muttered
>ah shit I hate it when women cry
>they remind me too much of what happened
>"L… look, it's not you, it's me." you mutter out in a conciliatory tone

>"I'm just trying to make a living, I'm not trying to make friends with anyone. In this business it's foolish to think that everyone will be able to get along and get out of a contract just fine; like it's a goddamn picnic.”
>she just looks at you with a flushed face, brow furrowed in contemplation.
>"... Alright, I understand Anon." she hesitates for a moment.
>"you have until next week to report to the staging area, I'll write the address down."
>she takes a pen out of her breast pocket and writes down the address.
>"See you on the other side, Mr. Anonson."
>she sits up and throws a couple silvers down on the counter
>she begins to walk off with her woodland camo jacket thrown over her shoulders, her knee length OD skirt trailing behind her as she opens the bar door and steps into the dusty streets of Neu Hawe.
>you examine the napkin
>'report to Neu Hawe Warehouse District at Hanger 1 on January 1st at 0500 sharp.'
>'PS, my last name is Liichen.'
>goddamnelvishtricks.webm
>you couldn't help but sharply exhale oxygen from your nose in a mirthful manner.

One week later January 1st, 12 AM; 0500 hour
>you make your way over to the Warehouse District through the main streets of Neu Hawe.
>it's cold as hell, so on top of your OD service shirt you are wearing an OD fatigue blouse
>the city of Neu Hawe was originally a sea port town on the northwest of Nortelande
>back then it was just called Hawe or “Haven” in Nortelandish; after the Merge telecommunications were cut off from the government
>the city was on fire for two weeks before the local army garrison decided to say fuck it, put down the riot control gear and went full retard with the house to house operations, clearing out looters and cracking down on anyone carrying a weapon
>the city was under martial law for a year, but then rumors about there being 6-8 foot tall green men taking out messengers and hunter/gatherers spread out of control
>the people have been living in abject poverty and living conditions for far too long, and the fact that the army was trying to censor the rumor broke the last straw.
>stripped of all their arms the insurgents ambushed army patrols with molotovs, glass bombs filled with feces and urine, and IEDs.
>local goblin gangs would also attack citizens and raid their pantries and the dead. Orcs would just do the same, but worse and with more semen.
>the garrison was too busy fighting the insurgency to deal with the raider attacks on civilians and were instead defending checkpoint and fuel depots in an attempt to consolidate their power
>soldiers hit with the shit bombs sustained septicemia, and antibiotics and medicine supplies were running low.
>troop morale hit rock bottom when families of troopers were targeted, first with slander and threats, then lynched
>eventually the army garrison surrendered when they realized that they could not win an insurgency with limited resources and dwindling supplies
>it was at this time that the elves came out of the woods to introduce themselves to the humans
>at this point the humans were so high strung they shot the incoming elves, thinking they were hostile
>this ignited a two year war that ended with both sides fighting to a stalemate, with the humans running low on people, supplies, and resources, and the elves running out of forest to live in
>because the humans spent most of the remaining fuel on molotovs for the trees...


>eventually a horse drawn caravan of Dwarves and mountain town trappers reached Neu Hawe
>they brought with them soil samples filled with a type of bacteria that could convert Spikegrass artifacts into a viable petroleum substitute.
>the Dwarves offered to help with the reconstruction of Neu Hawe in exchange for access to 10% of the city's power from its nearby hydroelectric dam
>food and medical supplies were released from the army stockpiles and distributed to everyone
>firearms and ammo were distributed, and the mountain men trained many on the fundamentals of trapping, shooting, etc
>Elven war refugees flooded into Neu Hawe, and many migrated into the city as workers like Roaches into the Kaiserreich after the Second Pancontinental War to aid in the reconstruction
>to this day the elves still have a sense of superiority over human inhabitants in Neu Hawe, claiming they rebuilt the city from the ashes of human folly
>the humans responded by barring elves from entering human run establishments

>you run all this info across your mind as your gamaschen’d leather low boots stride across the gravel paved alley
>this is knife ear town, and the shortest way to the warehouses is through the elf hood
>you get glares from blue and green eyes everywhere you look, their ears twitching with anger
>your finger twitches on the trigger of your Johnning Hi-Mag with anticipation
>sweat forming smudges on the parkerized finish
>you hear a clicking noise to your left, and out of instinct you drop onto your sides and draw your pistol at the same time
>bang! bang! bang!
>you let loose three 9mm x19mm Antebellum rounds on an elf holding a Fields trapdoor rifle 10 yards away
>ringa10ring.baby
>the leaf muncher crumples like a tree after a detcord explosion
>out of your periphery you see a female elf with a bow knocked back and aimed at you
>you roll over into a pronated position and Mozambo'd her
>her head flings back as a fine mist of pink vapors exit from the back of her head
>she had the same auburn hair and green eyes as...
>...no! Finish the fight!
>you get up, kicking dust behind you as a .52 caliber ball streaks past your feet and ricochets into the wall in front of you

>you look up and see a male knife-ear clumsily trying to reload, partially obscured by acrid black smoke
>you pop off two shots that connect with handguard, splintering the wood and lodging a round in the barrel
>sorryraifu.52cal
>he yelps and drops the ruined trapdoor rifle, and runs away
>you continue to run towards the warehouses, looking back and pointing at anyone who dares approach you
>eventually you reach the Warehouses and approach the gate guard
>he gives you a weird look, and asks for your paper work
>he takes a look, recognizing the Company's logo stamped on the notarized paper.
>you're out of breath, and make your way towards Hanger 1 whe...
>"Anon?" said a feminine voice
>you look over to your left, sweat rolling into your eyes, partially obscuring your vision under the incandescent bulbs
>a familiar figure steps forward, it’s Liichen
>she was wearing a khaki service shirt and her woodland jacket.
>she had on a simple OD canvas belt with two OD rifle mag pouches for her OSG-40 (STG-58) and two canteens.
>"I heard gun fire, you were trying to save time going through Elftown huh?" she asked in a concerned voice
>"yeah, well don't worry about me, worry about them, I think I took out like 6 of them on the way over." you responded
>she laughs, "Oh? Anon, we haven't even officially deployed yet and you've already racked up a body count?!"
>"well might as well get started, it's almost 0530 isn't it?"
>"you're right Anon, come on, let's get you some coffee."

Interior of Hanger 1, a middle aged Dwarve speaks
>"I am Commander Darion of the 4th Company of the 1st Expeditionary Battalion. Our mission this month is to deliver arms and munitions to the southern wood elves in south Nortelande and serve in a combat advisory role to the clients."
>"Remember! You are entering into Wild territory! Or as you humans would call it: Indian territory! So expect to be ambushed by anything running on two feet! But keep your wits about you and you will make it out alive! Alright, now collect your gear, find your unit at the areas with your unit number, and prepare to board your transports.We're moving out at 0800."
>The commander steps down and everyone lines up at the makeshift armory.
>You are placed in the Platoon Point Squad 1, Platoon 1, with an orc named Grunk, usually pretty quiet even by human standards, dude was full on bear mode at a height of 6'2"
>he carries the squad .308 cal belt fed and wears all OD Green fatigues and a boonie
>motherfucker must have an excess of green camo paint
>he like to joke about how his tribal tattoos get all the elf and human girls wetter than a drowned goblin infant
>The squad radio operator was a young 5'8" human dude called Funker
>he is a redhead with a 12 gauge Trenchgun, 10 inch bayonet and a bad attitude
>REALLY likes to get in close with the enemy, too much for an RTO.
>Then there's a 5'7" guy named Tunnel Rat
>He’s a pale blonde who grew up living in the old Metro stations under Neu Hawe, so his sense of nightvision is pretty developed for a human
>he carries a .45 cal Owen gun with a folding stock and fuckton of grenades. Wouldn't be surprised to find a potato masher up his ass for emergencies.
>there's you with a .308 caliber Mk-14 Battle Rifle and OD fatigue shirt and OD cargo pants and a pair of black leather low boots with gamaschen.
>then there's Lii...
>wait
>then there's Liichen with her OSG40 (STG58) chambered in .308 with her tornister on.
>"what're you looking at Anon?" she asks coyly

>you blush, "you... you're part of my squad?"
>she giggles, "well of course Anon, what kind of recon squad doesn't have an elf?" replied Liichen
>well shit she's right, these knife ears tend to have better hearing and eyesight than humans
>"well Anon, pack your stuff up, we're leaving in 5."
>she walks off and you can swear that she is shaking her heart shaped ass at you on purpose.
>are those blackberries you smell?
>you shake off any impure thoughts about lewding the knife ear
>you attach your small assault pack to your A-frame then rig the A-frame onto your OD tornister and your tornister onto your webgear suspenders. You put on your camo netted K-pot helmet and topped off all your ammo and made sure your pack was tight.
>your squad heads towards a 6x6 MUTT painted in the M81 woodland scheme with a .308 cal belt fed on a pintle mount on top of the rear roll cage.
>Funker gets in the backseat and mounts his radioset onto the passenger seat back. Grunk gets on the gun and pulls his zeltbahn on, it's finna rain soon and the jeep doesn't have the canopy mounted.
>you get into the drivers seat and Liichen gets in the passenger seat.
>you all don your ponchos and zeltbahns as the weather starts to worsen.
>the convoy begins rolling out of the Warehouse gates, the guards saluting your unit as your company departs south towards you mission.
>Accompanying the convoy are five 5 ton cargo trucks carrying ammo, meds, food, water, and guns for the keeblers clients.
>3 Gage Kommando Scout Cars with twin .50 cal Johnning MGs and 4 6x6 MUTT guntrucks.
>there are ~150 men in the convoy, no way anything on two feet are gonna fuck with this
>meanwhile the sun has gone grey and the rain pours down on the convoy as it races down the ruins of the old Interstate highway as you all go deeper and deeper into Wild territory.

>it was around 1200 high noon.
>there's a low overcast, and you can’t even see the sun anymore.
>The rain was pouring down harder than usual for this season
>the convoy speeded down the old Interstate at a blazing 60 miles per hour in a staggered formation with at least 100 feet between each vic
>the 5 tons were in the middle, while the 6x6s and command car was spaced out in between the lead and rear guard APCs
>your vic is in front because muh reC0n tip of de sPeer.
>"All vicks status report" said the platoon lieutenant
>"Status nominal, all units operating operationally, copy how copy, copy, over?" Funker joked over the comms
>"Oh cut the shit Funk, you want the butter bar to chew you out again over proper radio comms?" said Lii
>"I wish the motherfucker would, then I'd show that fucking leaf muncher the superiority of a knife in close fights." retorted Funker whilst twirling his 10 inch bayonet
>"You do realized that he could just pull out a pistol right? Just cause us elves like to use bows over guns more often than not doesn't mean that we don't how to handle a piece."
>she clicks off the safety and press checks her OSG-40 (STG58) just to make her point, her emerald eyes gleaming in the dark afternoon sun.
>oh holy shit mane she scary
>but why is it so arousing?
>oh shit eyes on the road!
>you see a small squat green shape on the asphalt road just in range of your periphery
>you yank the steering wheel hard right, causing the 6x6 the swerve hard into the right side of the road.
>thebloodandfatonlymakesitworse.mpreg
>Grunk is going crazy over the smell of blood
>calm down boy
>Funkerfreaksout.jpg
>oh calm down you elven maiden
>Tunnel Rat is still asleep.
>thank Dog for wide Nortelander roads.
>you fight over control of the 6x6 and come to a spinning stop three inches from the crash rail
>the Commander and his other XOs start chattering over the comms

>"Anon what in the Gods' name was that? Oh Gods, it's like a female orcs first moon up there!"
>you feel a soft yet strangling sensation on your right arm
>it's Liichen grabbing onto your arm, your arm sandwiched between her heaving C cup chest
>you can feel her heart beat with yours, synchronized in fear and adrenaline
>she looks at you with wide open emerald eyes, before letting go with an embarrassed countenance
>"umm... you alright Liichen?" you ask
>"sure Anon, I'm just cherry" she curtly replied, shyly hiding her cheeks by looking away from you
>they're so red
>like...
>like her's in Markaya...
>...
>...
>or it could be red light from the windshield covered in blood.
>the convoy grinds to a halt as the mercs take position around their vehicles, the .50 cals on the Gage Kommandos swiveling around looking for movement on the overgrown grass fields near the highway
>"I want a status report on the vic Anon!"

>visibility is shit, so no one can see anything past 50 yards in the heavy rain
>Grunk sniffs the air
>*sniff* *sniff* "Smell that? Fucking gobbies, can't believe how I'm related to 'em. Look at how easily they get pulverized. HAH! Pathetic, an orc would've torn apart this iron chariot on impact." remarked Grunk as he dismounted from the MG.
>Tunnel Rat finally wakes, "what'd I miss guys? What's with the blood?" he asked nonchalantly
>Yesus und Marea what the hell is up with this guy
>you dismount from the driver's seat, wiping off whatever gore was left from the hood with your bayonet.
>Funker was playing with the long range radio, eventually settling down on a station playing old world tunes
>Lera Vynn's soothing voice as she sings "We'll Meet Again" never sounded so relaxing
>Liichen seems to stop vomiting and actually calm down as Lera’s song reaches her ears
>you walk up to the grill, checking it for damage
>shit, looks like that green roach was a fatty, there's like blood and fat all over the radiat...
>"Ahh goddammit you work you piece of shit!" yelled Funker as he repeatedly hits the radioset
>static gradually distorted Lera's voice into white noise
>must be interference from the storm
>"Will you stop doing that Funker? It's not going to work like that." responded Rat
>these two argue like an old couple
>"hey! I'm the RTO here so I'll hit this damn thing all I want until it works!" responded an aggravated Funker
>"... so don't tell me what to do tunnel boy!"
>Funker hits the radio once more
>there was a noise of electrical shorting
>Tunnel Rat sighs. "What did I say?"
>"fuck you!" Funker's eyes bulging out, bayonet drawn

suddenly
>a large gust of wind blows through the road, rustling the overgrown grass fields along the highway
>and then, a god almightly roar came from above
>even Tunnel Rat looks mildly concerned
>it's a fucking dragon
>everyone and their mothers open up on the motherfucker
>the sky goes from gray to red as a thousand red tracers light up the storm
>the .50s and various .308 rounds just bounce off like pebbles off a tank
>holy shit no wonder the storm was so bad and the radio was going apeshit.
>on the other side, there were legends of dragons who came from the sea to bring rain to the land
>but there was catch, in exchange for breathing life into the earth, it must take life as well
>the scales were composed of an unknown material which can generate high amounts of electromagnetic energy
>enough to silence radios with white noise and generate electrical storms at will
>their scales can also absorb radar waves, making it difficult target with radar guided anti-air guns
>motherfucker must've been generating its own concealment with the storm clouds and overcast as it scouted us out
>clevergirl.webm
>Liichen swears in elvish
>"Good Gods Anon, literally! It's the Rain God!" exclaimed Liichen
>"The fu... you people worship that?" you yell through intermittent gunfire
>"What? No! It's just a general name for its species. We need to go now!" said Liichen
>the dragon pulls off what must've been a 20G maneuver, bending its body gracefully in the air, like it was swimming
>it then dive bombs towards a bunch of AFVs
>the dwarven gunners were burning through belts after belt of ammo as it draws near
>The twin .50 cals barrels turning as red as the tracers they were shooting out
>dragon swoops up, the force of its wingwash rolling over the command car with the Commander in it
>screaming occurs through out the convoy as several vehicles are crushed.
>"Someone get on the fucking AT rifle!!!"
>the food and water 5 tonners, all the AFVs and the command vehicle goes up in flames.



>one of the gunners exit out of one of the upside down Gage Kommando's bottom escape hatch
>Liichen looks on in horror as the Dwarve stops, drops and rolls, but the fire kept sticking to his clothes and skin
>napalmstickstokids.thehorror
>the gunner screams in incomprehensible Dwarvish as the fat drips off from his excess fat stores, his skin forming heat blisters and eventually popping the skin as his epidermis erupts from building steam pressured his boiling internals
>his screams suddenly shut off.
>he’s swallowed some of the napalm and it's burned off his vocal cords and lungs completely
>to you it sounded like someone suddenly and violently tore away his vocal cords.
>the Dwarve's webbelt starts to go off as his ammunition cooks off
>you all take cover behind the 6x6, looking on in horror as the merc burns in his own fat
>BANG! The burning merc's face capsized, throwing back red blood and bits of burning napalm 10 feet back
>Liichen looked on with a stern determination on her face, the muzzle brake of her Outomatiese Stryd Geweer 40 smoking
>"no one deserves to die like that" her face hardened as she takes a 10 round stripper clip from her bandoleer and tops off her mag.
>Grunk nodded, closed his eyes and began to recite a prayer to the Kube, his face in what can be described as a face of contemplation in holy reverence as opposed to his usual crass demeanor and grin

>"Oh Almighty Kube. Hallowed be thy name."
>"Blood be spilled in your grace"
>"May your hand guide our artillery to our enemy's doom,"
>"Elevate our spirits and morale"
>"And save our souls from our own damnation."
>"May you send us your Valkyries in our time of need"
>"For you are the Almighty"
>"You are the Arbiter of Victory"
>"And may our souls forever serve you in eternity"

>Grunk opens his eyes, the burning Dwarve's inferno reflecting off his yellow eyes
>Like an orc possessed with the burning anger of a hundred flaming souls
>"Now, how do you pansies like your dragon steaks?"
Cont

>"Medium rare" you reply
>Grunk laughs heartily
>"I KNEW there was a reason why I liked you softskin!" Grunk looks at the Rain God, melting the AFVs and guntrucks
>a shotgun racks behind you
>Funker fixes the bayonet onto his trenchgun, gently stroking the steel heatshield
>"I'll deal with you later tunnel boi."
>"Maybe try hitting it like the radio, radio boi." Rat remarked
>"Maybe I should hit you!"
>"HAH! Fat chance ginger." said Rat as he readies his Owen gun
>Looks like everyone is ready to fight
>but how can we ever protect and fight with our tiny swords?
>wait
>that's it! You look towards the weapons truck and race over to the back
>there is a dead elf laying against one of the weapon crates, the back of his skull blown off
>in his hands lay a .357 Magnum
>God help him, he was only 190.
>you look towards the back end of the truck and there you see it
>by the gray hairs of Tony Neophytou
>its a 25 millimeter mag fed pre-merge Antipanzergewehr RT-20
>these things can penetrate a Gaullian Shar A IV's frontal plate armor from 200 yards away
>the ammo looks custom made too
>the standard 25mm APDUS (Armor Penetrating Depleted Uranium Shot) rounds each weigh at least 10 pounds each were originally designed for use on the Eastern Front of the Second Pancontinental Conflict against the Zhukova medium tanks by Nortelander Tenk Jagters
>the rounds were meant to pick off the crew one by one or detonate the ammo rack
>but this one's casings were marked with special markings
>"Accelerite"


>Accelerites are artifacts that can accelerate to extremely high speeds once thrown or launched like a projectile
>you pull back the bolt of the APG, and insert one of the five 25mm rounds into the breech
>fuck me this thing is heavy, it weights like a ton
>meanwhile Point Squad 1 is engaging the dragon going around it in circles in the 6x6 in the grass field
>Grunk is unloading both his personal and vehicle mounted Johnning MG into the Rain God's nostrils while screaming "RIP AND TEAR!!!!" and unleashing a torrent of orcish war cries
>Liichen is aiming for the dragon's eyes with her OSG40 with extreme prejucide
>Tunnel Rat keeps tossing grenades and firing his Owen gun at the base of the dragon's paws everytime they pass between the dragon's legs
>Funker is firing his trench gun at any hole in the dragon's scale and driving at the same time
>you race to the hood of the 5 ton truck, taking careful aim at the dragon's as it tries to dive bomb napalm the car
>lead your targets
>take into account the wind direction of a 200 yard shot on a cargo ship sized target
>pull, don't squeeze
>bring it down
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWiyA5Q-Gp4



>an earth shattering thunder breaks the sound of the gunfire and roaring
>a massive belch of fire lights up the dark skies, burning the hood of the 5 ton and shattering its windshield
>the shot hits the right shoulder of the dragon and completely shatters its dragon equivalent of its clavicle bone
>the shockwave of the recoil and muzzle flash shakes your body to the core
>your testicles are jarred as the recoil reverberates throughout your body
>feelsbadman.gif
>the dragon lets out an earsplitting roar as it falls down to the earth
>the 6x6 nearly toppling over from the 6 scale earthquake, they quickly move out of the line of fire
>you pull back the bolt and eject out the spent casing
>the rich Cordite smoke saturated in the chamber slowly wafting up into your nostrils
>you put another round into the breech and then slam the bolt forward, ramming the 25mm shell into the chamber
>the bolt is locked into battery
>you look through the 10x scope and aim for the beast's heart
>without hesitation you squeeze the trigger
>the shot hits the dragon right where the heart should be
>but with great struggle the dragon rises from its crash crater, wings flapping and ascends
>it flies away from the highway, towards the ocean
>when the dragon is out of sight, the rain ends
>the sun looks really pretty
>you collapsed from exhaustion



Second Arc: Leaf Berets
an hour passes
>"Oh thank the Gods he coming to. Quick, Funker, fetch me my canteen." says a feminine voice
>where am I? You're in the 6x6, but the canopy is on this time to keep the rain and windchill out
>a single incandescent bulb lights up the interior of the 6x6 MUTT Jeep
>what happened? You try to get up only to feel a dull pain on your right shoulder
>your eyes open, only to meet them with the emerald green eyes of Liichen and her furrowed brows
>"Anon you've come to!" she brushes her hand by your forehead.
>"Here have some water Anon, you've earned it soldier."
>you shift up to get a drink from her steel 1 liter canteen, grimacing all the way.
>she frets, "Don't move Anon, your shoulder's been dislocated, so don't move it too much."
>"One hell of a job with that Antipanzergewehr shot anon, the fucker had to run away instead of fly after what you did to it. I would've taken out its other wing too, but I didn't want to lose my arm."
>"Oh fuck off Rat." you manage to force out
>"Oh okay, I'll just activate the cruise control and hop out while we're still moving at 60." he replied with a smirk
>you chuckle at his remark, ow FUCK that hurt.
>Liichen glares at Rat at the drivers seat, "Rat, please. Anon needs his rest right now and you're not helping." her eyes stabbing icicles into Rat
>"Woah there boss lady, I'm just trying to help. Humor's a great stress reliever where I'm from."
>"Hah, serves you right fucko." said Funker as he sharpens his bayonet.
>Liichen looks at Funker, "And you Funker, stop antagonizing Tunnel Rat, just cause he's from the Underground doesn't mean he's not human."
>"I never said he's an untermensch, I simply don't like him."
>Rat stares forward, keeping his eyes on the road, face steely after what Funker said.
>the rain was back but it wasn't storming or windy anymore, now it's just a light rain.


>wanting to break the tension in the small interior of the jeep you speak up
>"Say, where's Grunk?" you ask, you don't see the green giant anywhere."
>Rat gestured with his thumb "Look out the back window Anon."
>"I can't Rat, my shoulder."
>"Gah, he's driving one of the 5 tonners with the other remaining survivors."
>"How many of us are left?"
>Everyone looks gloomy.
>Liichen spoke out, "They're all dead. The Commander, the lieutenants, other mercs, dead. All of Platoons 2 and 3 are KIA. Between us and 1st Platoon, there's only 7 survivors left of the 4th Company.
>She swears in Elvish. "Greedy fucking execs. Whose idea was it to not bring any more AT guns other than that 25 mm rifle? I've never felt so much hatred for my own kind!" she punches the roll cage bar in anger
>she's crying again.
>fuck me I hate it when women cry.
>too many bad memories.
>you scoot closer to Liichen, wrapping her towards your chest with your good arm.
>"it's gonna be alright Liichen." she stops sobbing, her tears darkening your OD service shirt.
>she smells like lavenders right now, the car is so comfy and warm, there's a light pattering of rain on the canopy, and Liichen's in your arms right now
>you just want to sleep and then wake up the next day from this nightmare
>but this is reality, and 143 mercs were crushed and burned alive
>"what happened to the bodies?" you asked.
>Funker spoke up, "we couldn't do anything about them. Most couldn't escape from their vehicles fast enough when the dragon set their cars on fire; and those who did manage to bail out in time, well, we all know what happens to them.
>the redhead shudders
>you flashback to the image of the burning dwarve merc as he tried to get the napalm off his skin.
>not your first time seeing someone burn alive, you've seen plenty of that before the Merge.
>but it's still not something a sane person would get used to.



>"Grunk tried his best, he really did. He even burned his fingers trying to pry apart a burned Gage Kommando by hand." she said
>"but by the time he got it open we couldn't even tell apart the bodies from the scorched metal. The dogtags were...were... were so..." she stops to choke back her tears and point at a small burlap sack
>you reach out to grab it and open it. A bunch of badly burnt metal plates fell out, their etching warped by heat to the point where all the letters are jumbled together and you can't even make out the writing.
>the names, their nationalities, their ethnicities, races, blood types, religions, were all scrubbed clean by heat, melding into one warped piece of steel.
>it's fitting really, doesn't matter who you are, an officer or contractor, at the end of the day soldiers all have the same thing in common.
>we all go through the crucible of war
>"what's the plan of attack Lii."
>"we can't go back, we simply don't have enough fuel left to head back, and our contract stipulates we won't get our pay if we quit now."
>you speak up, "then we should at least call for reinforcements!"
>Funker looks at you guiltily, "sorry bro, the radio's fucked and I don't have enough parts to fix it."
>fuckinggoddamit
>you all quietly sit in the yellow glow of the incandescent bulb
>"how much did we salvage from the ambush?" you ask breaking the silence
>"this 6x6 and the 5 tonner with all the weapons and ammo meant for our client, two hitch trailers of extra ammo, grenades, whatever ration cans we could scrounge up, socks, winter clothes, some extra gas, the AT rifle and three rounds left for it." said Funker
>"how long can we expect the Company to ignore our radio silence before they declare us MIA and send in reinforcements?"
>Funker hesitates before responding
>"4 weeks"
>mfw

Cont

>"so it's decided then. We have to push forwards? No looking back?" you muse
>"well we're mercs anon, these kinds of situation are what’s expected right?" said Funker
>you look out the window, the overgrown grass fields along the highway have become forested with large trees and thick brush
>perfect for an ambush
>looking at the passing trees passing by almost has a hypnotizing effect on you
>you look down at Liichen head on your chest
>looks like she's asleep, her shoulder length auburn hair has become messy and undone from her usual pony tail
>that's what smells like lavender, her hair.
>your eyelids begin to falter, closing heavy with sleep, maybe she gave you painkillers?
>yeah, you're just gonna close your eyes for a second, it's been a long day.

Angiang Valley, Markaya; Year 1869
>the rain wouldn't stop pouring
>what the fuck man it's been raining for the past two days
>the highway hasn't been completely paved yet, so the vehicles can't go forward without getting stuck in the mud
>no way forward but to go on foot
>it's fine, those APCs were pretty much metal coffins anyway
>"Platoon! Dismount and proceed on foot! I want a 10 yard spread, organized by squads, and a staggered line formation!" you shout out
>"Yes sir!" replied the members of the 12th Motorized Infantry Brigade, 6th Platoon
>you switch off your Karbine M98's safety and proceed forward with your platoon.
>you don't like how you won't have any motorized fire support, but with an inch of flooding as far as the eye can see, you've got no choice but to push forward without the Gage Kommandos and their 25mm Vofors autocannons.
>your RTO jogs up to you, with a headset in hand.
>"Sir! It's company HQ! They want a sitrep!" you take the headset and put it on
>"HQ, this is Recon-1, we have dismounted 2 klicks from the village and are proceeding on foot due to adverse environmental conditions. Our position is currently coordinates grid: Alpha 01-2319, proceeding to grid: Charlie 02-2420, proceeding southbound on Highway 14, over."
>"Recon-1 this is HQ, copy that. Proceed to grid point Charlie 02-2420 on Highway 14 as per the mission objective and radio in for further instruction, HQ out."
>you fix your OD patrol cap and signal your platoon down the highway.
>"Remember boys! Watch for any movement, if you see anything, signal for a stop and we'll send a squad in to investigate! If you need to take a piss, don't stop going and just piss off the side of the road, do not stop this platoon because you drank one too many cups of coffee gentlemen!"
>a couple guys chuckle, rain bouncing off their net-covered K-pots.

>you've all been marching for 30 minutes before your feet started to hurt
>ah shit you can feel the blisters forming in your damp low boots already
>fuck it, you're tired and miserable and so are your men
>"Platoon halt! 15 minute break, change your socks, heat up your rations if you can, fill up your canteens with rain, if you have to take a shit, make sure you go with a buddy, and for God's sake make sure your shits don't flow into the camp!"
>the men laugh and visibly relax as they take off their A-frames and retrieve their ration cans from their assault packs
>you follow suit with your's and attempt to light your pocket stove with your metal Rippo lighter.
>ah shit the fuel tablets are wet.
>cold pork it is then. You sigh, taking out a waxed brown paper packet of hardkeks from your assault pack and retrieve your P38 from your dogtags.
>your hands couldn't stop shaking from the cold.
>Goddammit, of all the times for this country to be not unbearably hot and humid and it's on a rainy day.
>your RTO pipes up, "Lieutenant Anon, let me help you with that."
>she grabs your ration tin and P38 can opener from your shivering hands and proceeds to open it up
>"Thanks Monika" you smile at her
>"Should've listened to me and packed your gloves" she remarked
>"I gave them to that kid the last time we visited Raigon City remember?"
>she gives you your opened can, and stuffs your P38 back into your fatigue shirt, her slightly wet but warm hands brushing against your cold skin
>"Your chest is so wet and cold sir, you should've never given me your zeltbahn..." she says with concern in her voice, her green eyes looking on with equal worry
>"We can't have you catching a cold sir, it might... damage your..."
>"... performance... sir." she says in a teasing voice
>her hands now rubbing on your wet chest
>"I'll be fine, and besides, you're always plenty wet too, don't want you to get a cold." you say with a smirk
>her blush seems to radiate warmth into the cold day.



>you take a look at your watch, it's been 10 minutes, you quickly change your socks and finish your ration tin.
>you light a cigarette and take a long toke, savoring the rich tobacco flavor and contemplate your life so far
>how long is this war going to last? This was your first deployment in Markaya.
>Nortelande wanted to contain a certain Kaiserreichian socio-economic ideology from spreading to surrounding countries
>you signed up after senior graduation, went through boot before being recognized for your talents in teamleading
>God help me I was only 19
>for 10 months you've led your platoon through the thickest of action, in La Draco Valley, Jue City, L'Ashkar
>being the tip of the spear meant your men are all pretty brave
>as a result, the 6th Platoon has the highest mortality rate of all of the 12th Motorized
>your men look up to you, but you're on your last mental legs
>you've seen too many good men die in this fucking country
>if you had your say, you would've saturation bombed this whole damn place to the ground
>you were on the verge of suck starting your Hi-Mag when your old highschool friend showed up to replace your RTO
>she’d been in country for only a week at the time
>you remember how radiantly her auburn hair looked under the glow of the kerosene lamp that night
>her eyes seem to penetrate into your soul and take your breath away. 
>every night she would enter your tent and talk with you
>at first you tried to act like a stoic professional and not like a nervous sophomore, but the waterworks started to come out after she starts to get you talking about how you've been doing those past 5 months
>she was so caring and understanding, not like her usual tomboy self you were so accustomed to back home
>"It's alright Anon, I've got you, you've been so brave for your men. You can cry if you want Anon, I'm here with you. I'll always be here for you Anon. We're gonna make it through this. We're gonna make it out alright Anon." she says as she runs her soft hands across your short army reg hair
>you kissed her then
>she was shocked at first, but then she slowly whispered, "Oh Anon" and melted into your embrace
>that was the night you lost your virginity, at the age of 21, to your best friend.
>though nowadays you just sit in your tent, enjoying her company, rather than her body



>"All squad leaders listen up, I want squads one and two to conceal themselves in the treelines, do not make yourselves seen. Squads three, four and five are to enter the village and begin searching. When we make contact, I want squads one and two to begin covering fire while squads three takes cover and returns fire. Squads four and five will then bound back from the treeline and cover squad three while it bounds. Understood?"
>each SL acknowledges
>"Alright, gentlemen, leave no man behind, we're all going to make it through this you hear? Alright, watch for tripwires, be careful when you're searching through supplies."
>you look at Monika, she gives you a curt smile, she's ready, you’re ready.
>"All units, take your positions." You wait until all the squads go where they're supposed to.
>when you have confirmation, you give the signal, "Squads three, four, and five. Move out!"
>the villagers were surprised to see you in their village
>your finger is on the trigger of your rifle, you never like these villages, too many straw and bamboo huts, not enough solid cover.
>you would've preferred fighting in Jue City over these tiny villages, at least there you got solid cover.
>you order your men to spread out and search the huts.
>you head with Monika to the village chief's house and start speaking to him in Markayan
>you ask him if he knows anything about the insurgents that were fighting a mile east of his village just two day ago
>it's been an hour and still no useful info from the elder
>I'm getting so sick of this shit
>CRACKCRACKCRACK
>oh shit, it sounds like M98s are going off
>an explosion can be heard from the outside, throwing shrapnel through the hut
>you push yourself and Monika down
>PLONK!
>a piece of shrapnel hits you in the K-pot
>it's the size of a .50 cal
>we gotta get outta here
>"Come on Monika, get up" you grab her and feel something warm
>you realize a piece of shrapnel has hit her in the bicep
>it’s her shooting arm
>"It's fine Anon, I'll be right behind you" she pulls herself off the floor and readies her rifle with a grimace



>the two of you run out to see the devastation
>straw huts collapsed from 8.2mm Krausers rounds tearing through their supports beams
>civilians are either running, cowering in their destroyed huts, or lying dead in the flooded streets
>the two of you run towards the treeline
>the squads sent into the village have been wiped out
>must’ve been an ambush from the huts
>no other way that they would’ve been torn apart with such accurate gunfire otherwise
>the two of you are getting pretty close to the tree line
>Monika is leaving behind a pretty visible bloodtrail
>not even the torrential rain is washing it away quickly enough
>the both of you take cover behind a half collapsed hut
>”Alright Monika, the treeline’s there, we’re almost home free baby.”
>Monika smiles through her grimace
>she gives you a thumbs up
>you hold your rifle in a one handed carry in your right hand
>your left grabbing her shoulder
>a scream can be heard behind you two
>you don’t have enough time to react to the sound
>but she does



>time seems to slow down as you look her in the eyes
>she whispers something, but you can't quite hear what it is
>she pushes you back, pulling her Johnning Hi-Mag from her leather drop leg holster
>with a great struggle, she raises her wounded arm up with the heavy pistol
>the pain must’ve been unbearable
>she shoots, but her shot doesn't connect
>you turn around to see a young male Markayan soldier with a machete
>he slashes his machete down on her
>she screams and falls, dropping her pistol as she falls to the ground, clutching her neck and chest
>the soldier looks incredulously at her, mouth agape
>you rush to unsling your Krauser M98 and aimed it at the young Markayan
>you fire, but missed him
>quickly you rack the bolt to get another round into the chamber
>he ducks and yells a war cry, charging at you with his machete full speed
>shit he's too close to aim at
>he's about to bring down the machete when you raise your rifle to block it
>a metallic clank is heard as steel clashed upon steel, but the machete still hit you
>you feel a sharp pain on your right brow as the machete cuts into your right brow and upper right cheek
>blood leaks from the wound like a river, washing itself into your eyes and mixing with the rain
>the young soldier is gritting his teeth, saliva dangling from his bared fangs, his eyes frozen in a look of desperation
>you scream and kick the Markayan off of you
>right in the balls
>he howls in a high pitched scream and falls backwards, crawling away from you, cupping his groin as his blood starts to darken his khaki cargo pants
>you bring the rifle level with his center of mass
>he starts to plead with you in Markayan
>"Please sir! Don't kill me! I have a family! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!!!!"
>you wordlessly stood up, towering over the young soldier
>he couldn't have been more than 17 or 18.
>he continues to stare at you with those pleading eyes
>you aim the rifle at his kneecap and pull
>the 8.2mm Krauser round enters his right kneecap and fragments, completely shattering his knee cap with shrapnel
>his screams were louder than gunshot
>"PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"
>he tries to crawl away backwards
>you cycle the bolt of your M98


>you shoot him in the other kneecap, this time the round tears a whole chunk of bone and flesh from his left leg
>you cycle the bolt
>he's shaking his head, eyes wide open as he screams
>you kick his left arm and pin it against your boots
>you aim at the area where his arm and torso meet and pull the trigger
>his screams at this point are getting raspy
>blood from your wound gets into your eye, obscuring your vision with red
>last round
>you rack the bolt
>the teen boy voice is hoarse now, only feebly shaking his head
>you put your left boot on his neck
>his teeth are clenched shut
>you drive your muzzle into his teeth, breaking them
>you pull the trigger
>his head explodes like a watermelon falling from a 5 story building
>pieces of his skull pierce your leg, but you don't feel anything
>you stand in the heavy rain, the kid's blood pouring from his assorted wounds into the flooding waters
>your own blood is mixing with the kid's blood in the yellow and muddy flood.
>you stand in the carnage of your own making
>Monika is reaching towards you with her good arm



>"Ano... Anon" whispers a raspy voice
>your bloodrage quickly dissipates, you drop your rifle and run to Monika's side
>"Monika! Stay with me soldier! I... oh shit that's a lot of blood."
>a two inch slash wound ran from her clavicle to her upper abdomen.
>you hold her hand in yours, her green eyes becoming glassy, her skin becoming paler by the second
>"Anon... I'm so sorry, you... you have to be..." she struggles to talk
>"No please... no... don't leave me. You were supposed to make it! I... I had everything planned out for us!" you're sobbing now, your tears mixing with the rain and blood
>"It's not fair... It's not fair... we were supposed to go on a road trip together in my Fjord! We were gonna go cruisin’ Monika! We were supposed to be happy together Monika... please don't go..."
>"Anon, promise me you'll be strong for me. Promise me you'll go on without me. Don't let me drag you down..." she pleaded with you with her green eyes
>"Anon, you look cold." she was freezing, "Take my zeltbahn, it's yours anyways, I've got no use for it where I'm going."
>her hand slowly loosens grip
>"Hold me Anon."
>"I'm right here baby. I've got you." you manage through your sobs
>her hands go cold.
>She's gone.
>Killed in Action
>Lost to the Area of Operations



>you wake up in the 6x6.
>Funker is driving now, Rat's asleep, it's still raining.
>someone turned off the light bulb, so the interior of the 6x6 is dark, save for the gray light coming from the outside.
>you feel Liichen snuggling on your left arm, her cheeks smushed against your deltoids
>her breathing is so peaceful.
>you smooth her hair.
>she's spread your zeltbahn over the both of you
>you can still see the repaired slash mark on the cloth.
>Liichen stirs awake, "Anon? You up? How's your shoulder?" she rubs the sleep from her eyes
>you wipe away your tears with your right arm, it still hurts, but thank god for aspirins.
>"No Anon don't move your arm!" she wipes your tears for you

>"Liichen, thank you. For taking care of me." you say while holding her hand
>her eyes were looking straight down, not daring to meet yours
>something's wrong.
>you hear her sobbing, tears falling down from those pretty green eyes of her's.
>she bear hugs you tightly and cries into your arm, wetting your sleeves with her tears.
>my God she must've heard everything
>"I'm so sorry Anon, I didn't know. I thought you hated me Anon, I'm so sorry."
>"Don't cry Liichen. What are you sorry about?" you say as you wipe away her tears with the zeltbahn
>"The first time we met in that bar, in Neu Hawe, I saw how you were drinking alone in there I thought you wanted to hook up. But then I realized how different you were from the other men. Human men would leer at us elf girls, but not you, you're so polite and modest around me..."
>"... I thought you liked me; I thought you were just playing hard to get. I didn't know that... you had her in mind... I'm so sorry if I disrespected you... and her."
>"It's fine Lii, you're not being disrespectful. I forgive you." you said in a comforting tone
>"Re... Really?"
>"Yes, really. But like I said before, I don't want to become too attached to anyone. I don't..." you hold back your tears, "I don't want to be hurt like that ever again."
>she shakes her head regrettably, "I understand Anon, I'll give you some space."
>you smooth her hair, "Listen, maybe when this is over, if we finish this contract and both make it out alive, meet me at the bar again."
>she sniffs, "And if one of us don't?"
>you hesitate, "Then we'll pour a drink for the other. I'll have a cold mug of pale Dwarven Lager then."
>she smiles, such a pretty smile, "I'll have a glass of Elven wine then."
>you're smiling, she's smiling
>Rat's snoring.
>God's In His Heaven, and All Was Right In the World.
>For now.

>Funker tells you he's tired, so you take over for him at the driver's seat
>Liichen is sound asleep, tucked under your zelt
>Funker makes a point of sleeping away from Rat at the rear end of the 6x6
>it's night now, you check your watch
>it's around 8
>shit how long did you sleep?
>must've been one hell of a painkiller she gave you, because your shoulder feels almost fine now
>you roll down the window and reach into your breast pocket
>you pull out a metal tin and pull out a mushroom cig
>elves and Dwarves love this shit, it's like tobacco, with a bit of spice to it
>you buy these because you can't afford tobacco anymore since the weather in the northwest is not suitable for tobacco
>you make a mental note to buy some cigs in bulk when you travel to the southeast someday
>you light up the cig with your dented Rippo
>as you finish lighting it up, you look at the dents and scratches on the nickel plated finish
>this thing has been with you for years now
>it was your father's gift to you before your first deployment
>you recognize some of the rust in the dents and scratches from your time in the army
>you remember how Monika would always somehow find you lighter fluid to use instead of gas for refills
>a sting of pain on your brow pulls you back to the present
>you tenderly rub the quarter inch deep machete scar on your right brow
>the machete had managed to crack the brow bone
>the sheer shock of the force with which the machete had hit you brow chipped off a piece of the bone
>the doctors couldn’t do anything about the quarter inch deep cavity in your brow ridge, so they left it empty
>everytime you touch it you’re reminded of the emptiness you felt after she died
>no, you’re not going back down that rabbit hole again, last time you did you almost tried to siphon a slug from a pump action



>you look out the window to take your mind off of things. Hmm, looks like the moon’s out tonight
>there's enough visibility to see ~maybe 10-20 yards out, but beyond the 6x6's headlights you're pretty much blind
>you're feeling a chill go down your spine, and it's not from the wind rushing through the open window
>you feel like you're being watched, the same feeling you got through the two deployments in Markaya
>you see a gas station up ahead, and decide to stop and scrounge up some gas
>you stick your hand out of the window, forming a fist to signal for Grunk to ready to stop the 5 tonner
>you pull off to the side of the road and wake Rat up
>you tell him to pull security on the 6x6 and to not wake up Funker or Liichen
>"Alright anon, you sure you don't want me to come with you? I'm pretty good at CQB" asked Rat
>you tell him it's fine, and to just look after the car
>Grunk dismounts from the driver's cab of the 5 tonner, grunting as he ducks his head to avoid bumping into the top of the driver's cabin
>"Anon! That was some work back there with that APG! What a good shot, normally I'd say to give a clean death to your enemies, but after what that dragon has done..." his mind wanders, "So! How's that arm of yours? Still hurt?"
>"Y... Yeah, it kinda still does" you say nervously


>"Ehhh? What's wrong boy? Don't tell me you've lost your nerve after that fight with the dragon?!" he exclaimed, louder than he should might you add
>"Goddammit Grunk! I don't like this, I feel like we're being watched." you whisper loudly
>Grunk seems to come back to his senses, nose twitching
>"Hmmm, I don't smell nothin' Anon, but now that you mention it, I do feel tingling." says Grunk in a lower voice
>"Come on, let's clear this place out and find some gas so we can get out of here." you say in perhaps a higher pitched voice than usual
>you lead the way, your Mk14 set to full auto and tucked hard under your armpit, the heat shield mounted flashlight switched on, bathing the abandoned gas station in a narrow beam of yellow incandescent light.
>Grunk's left his .308 belt fed in the 5 tonner, and instead has retrieved a sawn off .700 Nitro Express coach gun from his browned leather holster, holding a spare clip of two .700 Nitro Express rounds in his left, bracing the sawn off with his left wrist, a large lamp on his boonie hat
>the both of you stack up on the right side of the wooden door
>"I'll clear right, you clear left, execute on three."
>"One"
>"Two"
>THREE!!!"
>you kicked down the rotting door, rushing into the room with your battle rifle tucked under your armpits, ready to point shoot into any hostiles
>Grunk clears the left, running through rotting wooden chairs without even being phased or tripped
>hesabigguy.uuuuu
>"Clear" you both announce simultaneously
>you look around the dusty room filled with collapsed metal racks and toppled shelves, crushed bags of moldy bread and pre-Merge potato chips on the ground
>a puddle of water accumulates from the leaky, saggy ceiling boards, colored dark with God knows what swimming in it
>the cashier's checkout table has a rifle on it, looks like a sporterized Krauser Karbine M98


>the once fully wooden stock has been replaced with a skeletonized paratrooper style triangular folding buttstock
>it’s got a Bakelite pistol grip
>an OSG (STG 58) muzzle brake is attached to the muzzle
>the "cheesegrater" styled metal heat shield is removed and an 8x scope attached to a weaver style rail welded on top of the chamber area of the barrel
>the bolt is racked back, no rounds in the chamber nor internal magazine
>it might be Bubba'd, but the welding job is exceptionally well done, looks like an experienced gunsmith worked on her
>the Kube is happy
>a sudden and faint sound of empty cans ring out through the station is heard
>it's coming from the employee's only storage area
>Grunk sniffs the air, "I'm not smelling anything boy."
>you edge towards the door behind the register, slowly pulling the handle down and opening it.
>it's a short and straight corridor with boxes lined on the sides and an ajar walk-in freezer door on the opposite side of the hallway
>you give your rifle to Grunk, who makes the large battle rifle look like a children's toy by comparison
>taking off your patrol cap and tucking it into your web belt, you silently draw out your old Nortelande Army issue 9mm Hi-Mag
>the click of the safety being disengaged can be heard loudly in the tiny hallway
>you take the flashlight from your rifle and proceed towards with your hands somewhat shaking
>you feel sweat building in your armpits, dripping down in the excess space of your fatigue shirt
>your clammy hands feel numb from how hard you're gripping the diamond textured wood grips of your Hi-Mag
>Grunk's whisper breaks the silence
>"Well get on with it boy! We haven't got all night!"
>you shoot Grunk a death glare and proceed toward the walk in freezer door silently, slowly
>you grip the rust dotted handle and pull, the hinges creaking loudly
>you cringe at the sound
>you walk into the room, the room was pitch black, the dusty metal racks filled with long since rotted away pieces of black meat


>a chill runs down your spine
>you hear shallow breathing sounds
>underneath you
>you look down and see a square metal trapdoor
>it's coming from down there
>oh God why didn't you bring Tunnel Rat with you
>you signal to Grunk that you're going down there
>he nods silently
>you lift the door open, peering your head into the 5 foot high crawl space before jumping down
>you scan around the crawl space with your flashlight, there are some cans of food down here and a rotten cotton bedroll, some of those cans are opened
>the opened cans still have some fresh food in it
>one of them looked kicked over
>ah shit here we go again
>the room looks bigger than you had anticipated and was pitch dark to boot
>you hear shivering and shallow breathing behind you, echoing through the big empty room
>you're sure it ain't your own breathing and shivering
>you turn around as quickly as you could in the cramped space, pointing your flashlight and Hi-Mag towards the source of the sound
>"Oh holy shit" you whisper out


>you see a pair of eyes reflecting your flashlight
>you debate whether you should shoot it or not
>it's just staring at you, maybe it's a raccoon?
>your finger is itching when you stop
>you hear feminine whimpering coming from the eyes
>you slowly step forward, each step you take the whimpering gets louder and more desperate
>you hear the eyes blinking and moving as sounds of feet scraping on concrete can be heard
>you move faster towards it now
>when your shitty incandescent bulb light gets in range of the target you finally see who it is

>the light illuminates a pair of pale, bony legs and small blistered feet
>as you move the light up you see her... oh
>her...
>... private parts and slender, skinny pelvis
>you move your light up to her exposed chest area
>looks like a B-cup to me
>her emaciated rib cage moves with each quick breath she takes
>you see wispy, messy shoulder length blonde hair running down her sunken in shoulders
>her skinny arms are raised, her pale and bony hands cupped over her mouth
>occasional whimpers can be heard as her hands fail to contain her sounds of fear
>she has pale blue eyes and what appears to be freckles or dirt on her fair face
>her cheeks look shallow and her eye sockets looks sunken in
>the left side of her head is hairless, covered by burn scars instead
>her left ear lobe also covered in burn scars.
>they look disfigured, like someone crudely cut them off with a razor
>her eyes lock onto yours for what seems like eternity
>by God she can't be more than 17 or 18 years old
>they tell a thousand words


>"Hey! Little girl! Are you okay sweetie?" you holster your piece and reach out with your right hand, hands open
>she recoils in fear, legs kicking dust up as she tries to backpedal into the brick wall behind her
>"Ayyy! Ayyy! It's alright, I'm here to help!" you whisper/yell out
>"Anon! What in the name of the Kube is going on down there?" yells out Grunk from above
>"I've found a girl!" you yell out
>"That's good, that's really good!" exclaims Grunk
>calm down you green nigger
>she tries to low run past you, the only hint to her escape attempt being the patter of her bare feet on the cold concrete floor
>you quickly react, jumping after her and getting a hold of her leg, causing her to fall
>she screams, kicking your head with her free leg to try and get free from your grasp, skinning her knees and legs on the harsh concrete floor
>but you're stronger, and quickly get on top of her waif like body
>Yesus und Maria she is bony and cold
>her screams turn to whimpers as her strength wanes, her almost non-existent muscles giving up
>"I've got you sweetheart, you're safe now, we're here to help." you've wrapped your whole body around her's
>you stroke her on the head, whispering into her ears words of affirmation
>her whimpers turn to soft sobs as tears ran down her scarred face
>"It'll be alright, you're gonna make out alright sweetheart, I'm here for you." you say as she shivers and sobs
>she tucks her head into your chest and cries into it
>shit, even her tears feel cold
>the floodgates have been compromised
>you cup your head into her chest, feeling her shiver less as she warms from your body temp
>you take care to avoid the burnt part of her head as you gently caress her face
>the both of you just laid there in the dark crawl space, her sobbing seemingly stops gradually
>you see a light coming from the trapdoor, a familiar boonie hat and green head popping down
>"Boy, get a move on." says Grunk in a stern voice


>you pop out from the trapdoor, with her in your arms in a bridal carry
>you hand her over to Grunk, who has a wide smile on his face
>you hesitate, "Grunk I swear to God you will serve the Kube in pieces if you do anything with this girl."
>Grunk squints at you, before chuckling to himself, "Relax Anon, she's in good hands. Hand her over."
>she squirms in your arms, eyes wide in fear as you hand her over to Grunk
>"It's okay sweety, it'll be alright, he's a nice orc, he won't rape you."
>she calms down as you talk to her
>Grunk takes her, and you push yourself out of the trapdoor, he hands her back to you
>"See? Not all orcs." say Grunk with a toothy grin
>not all...
>just most
>the both of you walk back out to the vehicles parked near the fuel pumps
>you grab the Bubba'd paratrooper M98 from the register and make your way out the door
>Rat is scanning the dark road and surrounding woods, his brown eyes glinting from the 6x6's headlamps
>one hand on his Owen gun and another on one fingering the pins of his pineapples
>looks like he's been filling up jerry cans for the 6x6 and 5 tonner
>"See anything Rat?" you whisper
>"Saw a deer about 50 yards out, nearly shot it." he whispers back tersely
>"The vehicles all juiced up?"
>"Yeah, I'm just filling up the jerry cans." he does a double take, "Who's the woman Anon?"
>"Some chick from a bar I picked up, what do you think?"
>you put the girl into the 6x6, grabbing your zeltbahn and draping it over her
>her eyes are constantly on you, wide as dinner plates as you drape the ERDL pattern poncho/tenthalf over her emaciated body
>"A... Anon?" she speaks in a raspy whisper for the first time
>"Ahh! Oh shit you scared me, what do you want sweetheart?" you lean down to her and cup her unburned part of her head
>"She's coming for us Anon. Don't let her get me, please." she rasps.
>"Over my dead body before yours sweetheart." you respond, beaming her a smile
>”Anon, I’m Sonja.” she says
>”Lieutenant Anon Anonson.” you respond
>The jerry cans look just about full. You put them into the 6x6 and 5 tonner


>Rat tenses up and grabs you to face the road
>you stare at the road
>you can't see anything beyond the headlight's illumination range
>"I can't see shit Rat let's just get the fuck out of here!" you turn back your head to face him
>Rat flips the fire selector on his Owen gun to full auto
>"How about now?" he asks
>you turn your head back on the road and see several glowing eyes beyond the headlights' range
>they're moving, getting closer
>their eyes are piercing your soul
>you flip the fire selector of your Mk14 to full auto
>the creature moves forward
>he's flanked by what appears to be...
>deer?
>but they look strange, their eyes are glowing red, their rib cages exposed, lungs and entrails hanging out, their fur falling off
>the stench hits you and you nearly gag, but Rat keeps his steely gaze on the creatures
>the bipedal steps out
>the smell of rot and iron hits you like a train and you vomit
>thank God you haven't eaten anything since this morning
>its eyes are as red as blood
>it has the head of a... deer? But the body of an emaciated... woman?
>ah shit must be what Sonja was shitting herself over
>the thing has torn and bloodied rags of clothing barely clinging to her 9 foot frame
>scraps of what appears to be black Nonverse sneakers cling to her monstrous feet by shreds of torn rubber and fabric
>it's like, she grew out of her clothes and shoes or something
>"Anon, listen to me." Rat whispers to you the plan
>you nod in acknowledgement.
>the zombie deer start moving closer
>"NOW!!!!" yells Rat as you and he unload your weapons at the ground
>the 9mm and .308 rounds ricochet off the asphalt ground, near parallel to the ground as the deer charge to you
>the combination of the ricocheting rounds near the ground take out their legs
>you grab his grenades from his bandolier and pull the pins
>you chuck the grenades at the charging horde as the both of you get as far as you can and dive for the ground
>a loud explosion rocks the empty backroad, throwing pieces of asphalt and deer into the air and back down to the earth
>Funker and Liichen are both awake by now and Funker's on the wheel of the 6x6
>the creature rocks its head back and roars in an inhuman voice
>"OH FUCK THIS SHIT NIGGER!" yells Funker as he puts the 6x6 in gear, his booted foot flooring the pedal
>you and Rat barely gets out of the way before the 6x6 rams into the creature
>"DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" yells Funker as the 6x6 overruns the creature, which is yelling in pain by now
>Goddammit Funker
>the 5 tonner rolls up
>"Get in boy." says Grunk as a merc survivor in the passenger's seat fires away with Grunk's belt fed, unloading hot red tracers on the pile of rot that is the creature
>you and Rat get in the back of the truck and reload
>"Covering fire!!!!! Get in!!!!!" yells the merc in the back
>the trucks accelerates quickly forward, following the 6x6
>you feel the 5 tonner bumping up and down as it goes over the creature with a sickening crunch and animal roar
>you and Rat keeps shooting into the creature as the 5 tonner speeds away down the dark road
>its screams get further and further away.
>you've lost it


>breathing a sigh of relief, you turn over to a steaming Tunnel Rat, his face twisted in anger
>"THAT MOTHERFUCKER!!!!" he exclaimed
>"Calm down Rat, I can't risk you NDing in a truck full of ammo and milsurp."
>"He tried to run us over! Anon! How the fuck are you this calm! I swear to GOD! That damn Topsider!" Rat bangs his right hand on a wooden ammo crate with enough force to split the wood.
>"You can't trust these motherfucker! Even before his kind moved to the Underground they've done nothing but betray us!" yells Rat
>"The fuck are you on about Rat? What the hell is a Topsider?" you ask
>"OH??! So you don't know huh? Well, allow me to enlighten you." says Rat
>"Before the Merge and during the Second Pan-Continental War, Neu Hawe was a port city with heavy industry outside the city limits. Most of the workers lived in the city because of the cheap rent, so the city decided to build an underground rail network connecting the city to the factories."
>Rat continued, "But after Zhukovia surrendered to the Kaisserreich, the war effort factories were no longer needed, so the workers were no longer needed either."
>"So what else were we supposed to do? There's not that many better paying jobs in the city, most of us can't afford to make it back home, so we became homeless."
>"Hundreds died in the winter because they couldn't find shelter, those fucking Topsiders were too preoccupied with their pockets to even give us enough to feed ourselves, so what did we do? We moved underground and lived like rats because to them we were just that! Rats!"
>Rat is getting more aggravated now, the other merc in the cargo bed was feeling more and more like a third wheel
>Rat continued, "At least down there we treated each other with respect, we didn't bother anyone and they wouldn't bother us. That is, until the fucking mayor decided they wanted us gone.”


>"The city wanted to get rid of us because 'no one wanted to get near the old metro entrances' or ‘we are disrupting the city's image'."
>"They eventually got the excuse they wanted when they wanted to expand on the city's sewage system and decided to evict us from the tunnels."
>"Greedy pigs" Rat spat out, his face beet red from the rage
>"So we sent in our best diplomats, to try and get us living arrangements and work, but they wanted us to live in slums instead."
>”... But peace… peace was never an option.”
>"When negotiations broke down, they sent in the cops to flush us out like the rats they think we are. Big mistake." Rat is smirking now
>"A wise man once said, 'When a terrier leaves a rat no way to escape, the rat will fight back with the might of a thousand bears.'..." Rat stops to rub his stubble


>"... so that's what us 'rats' did to the 'terriers'. We fought them tooth and nail for every inch of those tunnels. We would set nail bombs and flood the abandoned stations with infected rats. The children were taught to shoot set ambushes, the women would rather charge with their fists than run away from the fucking pigs... "
>"This was our home, and we'd rather die as in the dark as rabid rats, than to live in the light as pests, fearful of the exterminators."
>"Entire captured stations of men, women, and children were forced up the surface after years of living underground, without any protection from the light and go permanently blind, and what happens to them? They live in slums or on the streets, hounded like frightened rats by people who don't want us up there."
>"The Merge was the best thing to happen to us. The situation got so bad City Hall called upon the nearby army garrison for help, but before they mobilized all hell went loose above ground, and then we became the hunters." Rat had a cruel face, twisted into a sadistic smile


>"So when shit hit the fan upstairs, thousands of 'innocent civilians who did nothing wrong' flooded our tunnels with the look of fear in their eyes. We simply treated them like they did to us. We have fought tooth and nail for our homes, and we demand they give us the teeth and nails we lost."
>Rat is playing with his Owen gun, patting the baby-shit green top loader like a pet dog
>"The first wave of 'refugees' were 'triaged' and 'quarantined' for any diseases they might have carried with them. Then we booted out those who were 'infected', those who resisted were escorted to the latrine pits and shot. When their families realized their family didn't come back, they knew what we had become, and what they had become..."
>"... they were the rats now, and we were just doing some house cleaning." said Rat
>your face and the other merc's was one of abject horror
>Rat paused, his face totally neutral to your reactions.
>"You wouldn't understand Anon, you never would. You've lived in the light your whole life. I on the other hand didn't see the light until I was a grown man, and by then I had already embraced the darkness, and she embraced me.”
>"They never gave us a choice, they gave life and servitude, we responded with liberty or death. The Founding Patriarchs of this husk of a country would've preferred it that way. Our ancestors are smiling upon us, can Funker's ancestors really say the same about themselves?" said Rat



>you remain silent, "Still, they never did anything wrong to you! They're just civilians for God's sake!"
>Rat shook his head, his eyes filled with tears and anger
>"... Do you know what tear gas does to a person Anon? Short exposure in an open environment is fine..."
>"... but we were in a tunnel with no place to go, so the gas just wafts there, poisoning entire stations. Those who were caught in the gas were escorted out, but the gas creeps up into other tunnels, slowly permeating into our clothes and skin. Children's eyes were permanently damaged from prolonged exposure, the pregnant and the old slowly suffocated to death, over weeks of time!"
>"It burns you to your very soul Anon! My sister died in my arms! She couldn't even talk yet man! WE WERE JUST KIDS MAN!!!!"
>Rat has you by your shoulders, tears streaking down his face, face twisted in anger and anguish

>"SHE COULDN'T EVEN CRY FROM THE PAIN ANYMORE ANON! SHE JUST LAID IN MY ARMS GASPING FOR AIR!!!" Rat was screaming at this point
>"SHE WAS ALL I HAD LEFT MAN!!! THE COPS BEAT MY MOTHER TO DEATH AND TORTURED MY FATHER FOR INFORMATION ABOUT REBEL ACTIVITIES ANON! THEY DIDN'T GIVE US A CHANCE MAN!!!"

>"So when the 'refugees' came down for our help, expecting mercy, they were sorely disappointed. They got their medicine alright, and if they didn't like it, they can eat shit for all I care."
>you were too paralyzed to move
>"HEY! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON BACK THERE!!! WHAT KIND OF FAGGOT SHIT IS RAT TALKING ABOUT." yelled Grunk from the driver's cabin
>"FUCK YOU GREENNIGGER, HUMANS ARE TALKING!" yelled Rat
>"WELL SHIT EXCUSE ME! HOW'S ABOUT YOU STOP BITCHING AND START SHOOTING, LOOK BEHIND YOU, YOU IDIOT!" yelled Grunk, his voice silencing Rat.




It's the deer-woman fucker again
>time to operate on this malignant tumor
>Rat is back to his normal neutral self.
>"She's got a problem with death?" say Rat
>"Bitch is in for a surprise, we're mercs, we're merchants of death, and if she wants to fill our coffers, we'll fill her coffin." says Rat in a cold expression, loading a fresh 30 round mag into his Owen, racking the charging handle with gusto
>genocidemodeactivated.csgas
>"Fuck the guns, we've got all the firepower we need right here." you say, patting the wooden box Rat punched open previously

>"Mk. IV Fragmentation Grenades, DO NOT JOSTLE."

>"Excellent." whispers Rat
>the both of you and the extra merc prep a system.
>the merc would pass along grenades
>you and Rat would cook them and throw
>the first dual barrage of grenades tore the creature's thigh muscles to ribbons
>she stumbles and rolls over herself like a wheel
>but she regains her composure and keeps closing in with the truck
>"OH YOU WANT MORE YOU SHITTY MOLDY PIECE OF VENISON?! GET SOME!!!" yells Rat as he throws two more cooked grenades at the creature
>the nades go off, shredding her lower torso and exposing the rib cage
>"Pass me the .30!" you ask the merc
>Rat acts as the assistant gunner and feeds the .308 cal belt fed as you tear through an entire belt of ammo
>200 rounds of glorious real-fuckin' tears through the quickly fleeting body of the creature ripping up piece of asphalt and sending flesh and bone 5 feet high
>the bitch gets up, the antlers of the deer skull shattered and splintered off, like wood


>you and Rat could hardly believe it
>all the mushroomed and fragmented .308 rounds pop out of her wounds like blackheads on an orc's ass
>her biceps start to bulge as new muscle grow in the place of damaged tissue
>the tattered remains of her jeans and shirt ripping to shreds as they fail to contain her growing mass
>the tattered remains of her black Nonverse sneakers creaking and bulging as her feet grew more and more monstrous
>the canvas and rubber can no longer handle the growing mass of her monstrous feet and pop open with an audible snap
>the dirty shoelaces snapping off with each shoe size her feet grew
>the bra she that still managed to withhold the ravages of time burst open as the rotting flesh and fat of her breasts grew
>the mother fucker's 10 feet tall now
>it's like bullets only make it grow bigger
>"Ahh fuck this shit, move over!"
>the previously speechless merc, tossing back his black beret and holding a red 40mm grenade
>he loads it into a Mk79 "Stumper" and takes aim at the beast
>"Something cool." he said as he pulled the trigger
>a thumping sound can be heard before the creature bursts into an intense red light
>its screaming is surprisingly human-like, as its newly acquired muscle mass burns to a singe
>"Let's see how the bitch likes thermite." says the woodland clad merc in a Volk accent
>the burning pyre of the beast lays on the asphalt, quickly disappearing as the truck puts distance between you and the inferno
>he takes out a metal cig case and fishes out a book of matches
>you offer your Rippo
>he accepts it and lights the mushroom cig and takes a deep puff
>”Names Henning by the way. Major Henning to you Lieutenant.” says the black bereted man
>you start to ask him if he knows what that thing was
>”That, I believe, is what they call a wendigo in these parts.” he says



 >you lean back in exhaustion and pull out your own cigarette
>where the fuck's your lighter?
>Henning leans in and lights your cigarette
>"You really love that girl don't you?" he asked, his tone getting considerably softer
>you look at the 5'10" man hesitantly, still trying to feel him out
>"I think we're all she has left in this world." you say, accepting the light
>Henning gives you your Rippo back and asks you a question
>"... You were in Markaya weren't you?" his eyes down trodden and dark
>"... yeah, 12th Motorized. Platoon leader. '68 to '70, Ia Draco, Jue City, L'Ashkar, and Angiang. You?"
>Henning hesitates, jaws clenched and eyes soft, he sighs and says...
>"... Daniel Henning, 1st Valskerm Jagters Division, 505th Valskerm Jagters Brigade, 8th Battalion, 3rd Company, 2nd Platoon. Squad leader. L'Beouf, Rock Pile, Karsk, Point Dien Benis, Ia Draco..." he says
>your eyes go wide with the realization; the Black Berets: "Reign Hell From Above"
>"Oh shit! You were in Ia Draco?!"

>Ia Draco was one of the bloodiest battles of the Markayan Emergency, with a whole battalion of Nortelande's finest Valskerm Jagters being air lifted into a large clearing to establish a base of operations, only to be overwhelmed by enemy artillery hidden in the mountains
>had it not been for the efforts of the 2nd Valskerm "Vuur Krag", their battalion batteries "Yster Krag", and the 12th Motorized's relief column, Ia Draco would go down as the most embarrassing defeat for a modern army against a technologically inferior force

>Henning simply nods, "Not proud of it." and finishes his cig
>"Look, if you really care for that girl you'd teach her how to use a gun. Maybe if she learned how to shoot we wouldn't have this damned thing chasing us... " he hesitates
>"... She's just a kid, they can't defend themselves and in this world anyone who doesn't know how to use a gun won't last long." he says as he reminisces the past
>"... I know from experience..."
>oh fuck


>"Got another light Lieutenant? God I miss real tobacco."
>you offer him a light, he takes deeper heavy puff, coughing a bit in the process
>"After the war I went home. Tried to become a manager or some other white collar job, I don't remember, it seems like an eternity ago." he takes another toke, holding it in for extra nicotine
>"But that life was never for me anyway, my wife got angry at me for coming home drunk and shit faced... " he puffs
>"... her patience ran out when she threw a bottle at me and I shot her about an inch from her face." he laughs and then stares into his handgun, a Schmidt and Westmoreland .357 caliber /k/-frame revolver

>please don't off yourself like that elf did in the back of that 5 tonner
>"Janis took my daughter and made off with a nig and left the house. I was served divorce papers and we separated a month after that. She was about to take my guns and the house too, but I burned it down and joined the Gaullian Foreign Legion to teach new recruits in San Vera in the Suidlande..."
>"Kept my full giggles though, she hates them too, probably would've turned them in to the government for destruction just to spite me." he spat out
>"Before the Merge I went back to Nortelande to visit my daughter. I would write secret letters back to her every week from my post. She had her own secret PO box, she kept saying how her grades were improving and how she got into Blackwood High, she would've been 16 that year." he laughs and chuckles, before choking on his cigarette


>"Woah, ughhh, Goddamn I take it back these things are pretty strong." he takes a sip from his canteen. His face taking a sober turn of emotions
>"When the Merge happened, a couple thousand Orcs flooded the city. The cops couldn't do anything about it, they didn't even have bolt actions because the damned PD had been embezzling funds and selling arms to niggers, so a couple hundred cops armed with nothing but revolvers and 9mm automatics vs a couple thousand blood hungry orcs, spread out all over the city responding to over a thousand calls for help..." he pauses
>"... well, you know what happens." his soul looks like they've left his eyes
>"I've got no more tears for the past Anon, I like to think that after all I've been through: Markaya, San Vera... my daughter..." he grimaces at the mention of his daughter
>"... that even after all the bad things I've done…”
>”... I'll still go to heaven..." he pauses before continuing, smoking his cig
>he exhales a cloud of smoke, obscuring his face, "... because I've already went through hell on earth."
>Rat looks at Henning, he looks contemplative before speaking up
>"I'm sure she's in a better place now Major." he chuckles
>Rat continues
>”My sister would've like her, she likes it when the other older girls in our station read to her."
>Henning looks at Tunnel Rat with a small smile out the corner of his mouth, cigarette dangling off
>"I'm sure she would, Private Brantz."
>"Oh God don't call me that sir, just call me Tunnel Rat, you're reminding me that I'm still under Funker." says Rat getting worked up again
>"Watch it kid, I'm not buddy buddy with you yet." warned Henning
>Rat stands up and salutes with a shit eating grin, "No sir, not yet, sir."
>Henning smiles and quickly exhales through his nose
>"Alright Private, at ease. Before you fall out the damn truck."


>"Sir? Why would it take a month before the Company sends in reinforcements? How would they know this isn't some radio malfunction?" you ask
>Henning mulls it over, “If the Company does not receive any radio traffic from us then it would either mean a catastrophic break down in communications or that everyone is dead. The latter is because all the command vehicles and 6x6s are equipped with long range radios, and as long as one of these long ranges are operational, any other vehicle with a short range can link with the long range and broadcast back to battalion. However because all the long range carrying vehicles are destroyed, the Company will assume the worse and think most of the convoy, if not all are dead." he stops and pulls out another cig, you light it for him
>"But since we have no way of contacting HQ they'll assume that the whole unit is destroyed and will send in an even larger more equipped force." he pulls out a chocolate bar and takes a bite
>"However it'll take time to recruit that many people, so we might be looking at two or three months to scrap together a larger force and beefed up firepower."
>"How the hell is the Company being paid for all this cool shit? We didn't even have shit like this in the army." you say pointing to the Mk 79 Stumper

It gets its name from its ability to turn your enemies to bloody stumps of meat

>"Mineral resources and artifacts Lieutenant." he responds
>"The wood elves we're supplying with training and arms are not from this world, but are rather new immigrants to our world, they managed to get themselves discovered by a local elf town militia and rode to a neighboring human town to use their radio to contact us on an offer." says Henning
>”... the local elves and humans discovered deposits of minerals like gold and silver in the streams, so naturally the Company was called…”
>Henning then switches into a more contemplative look
>”... did you know that the Company used to be a mineral and resource mining corporation back before the Merge? Not many do, but they still have a lot of mining equipment left over from the olden days.”
>"The Company gest 10% of any gold, silver, and a pick of their finest women apparently." Henning laughs
>"So that's why the Company's definitely going to be reinforcing us, it's just going to take time to organize a large enough force. They'll be packing battle tanks, AFVs, maybe even Sky Phantoms."

Sky Phantom: a turboprop Close Air Support vehicle (Skyraider + Phantom) capable of carrying six napalm canisters + two WP canisters or sixteen Mark 18 Snake Venom High Explosive Ordnance


>The truck stops, and soon the 6x6 stops too
>you step in front of Rat, "Rat I know you wanna kill Funker, but for God's sake we need him alive, he's the only one who can fix this radio."
>Rat begrudgingly agrees, "Fine, but when this job is over." he sighs
>"You know we were friends once, after my sister and parents left me all I had was my father's knife. I thought about using that on myself so many times that I had to asked him to hide it from me." Rat looks remorsefully, "Maybe that's why I hate him so much. He wouldn't let me die." calming down
>"After hearing about Henning and his daughter... " he trails off looking guilty


You have to say something
>"Rat... he was never your enemy." you say
>Rat looks up at the night sky, taking in the pristine air, with a look of regret on his face
>"But Anon, I was never his friend either." he says wistfully
>you look him in the eyes, thinking about what to say
>"It's not too late to make amends, you guys are supposed to be our CQB specialists, I think you'd make a great team together..." you say
>Rat contemplates the prospect, "You know what Anon, I think you're right."
>"Thanks for the talk Anon. I shouldn't blame him for what his ancestors did. We're all in the same boat together anyway, he sinks and we'll all sink."
>you look at Rat as he walks up to the 6x6 and enter, sitting next to Funker.



>Liichen walks out holding a distressed looking Sonja, still wrapped up in your zeltbahn, but wearing a pair of Liichen's spare combat boots
>Sonja's eyes widen as she runs towards you, and glomps you, crying into your chest yet again.
>you're going to catch a cold one of these days, just a matter of time.
>"Sonja, you shouldn't be running with your feet like that, come on sweety, let's get you some clothes and get into the car." you pick Sonja in a bridal carry and follow Liichen
>"You know Anon, you'd make for a great father..." says Liichen, walking close to you but never touching

>you look back towards the truck, Henning propped up against it smoking another cigarette
>"I don't know about being a great father." you say
>"A... Anon? I'll do whatever you want me to... as long as we're together." says Sonja in a quiet voice
>you think about Monika, you really don't want Liichen or Sonja in her place
>"Sonja, I... I don't think...." you say before you're interrupted by her quietly sobbing
>"Please, don't leave me."
>you stare at her motionlessly
>what do you do?
>if it means an innocent won't suffer, then you'll suffer for her
>"I won't Sonja, I promise I'll always be there for you." you say with grim resolve
>you turn to Liichen, "I can't do this alone Liichen, I'm gonna need help on this one partner." you say
>Liichen warmly smiles at you and Sonja, "Alright Anon."
>you can't see Sonja’s face, but you can feel her smiling on your chest
>"Come on sweety, you're getting kinda heavy here, and we still haven't gotten you that schokola I promised you earlier."
>the three of you step into the 6x6 while Henning finishes his cigarette and preps his bedroll in the back of 5 tonner
>"I hope you'll make it out alright Anon." says Henning
>"Don't make the same mistakes I did."



>Sonja was bundled up with Liichen, she's wearing Liichen's OD service shirt, her nutria cargo pants
>she’s hugging that Bubba'd paratrooper Krauser M98 to her chest
>Liichen’s bandaged her blistered feet
>she's still weak and very much quiet, much preferring to communicate without using words
>Liichen seems to enjoy playing mom with the teenage girl
>"Oh you poor thing, hasn't anyone combed your hair before? It's a mess sweetheart!" says Liichen as she went to grab her brush
>"..." Sonja remains silent and shakes her head
>"Hmm, well that stops here you poor thing. I'm gonna take care of you." as she combed through Sonja's hair
>Liichen runs her wooden elvish comb through Sonja's hair, taking care to not touch the burnt left side of her head
>"Liichen? Can I call you Lii?" she asks timidly, shrinking a little away into your zeltbahn
>"OH of course sweety, you can call me whatever you want Sonja." smiles Liichen

>"Who's ready for some schokola?!" you say in a friendly voice
>"Sonja, would you like some schokola? It's REALLY GOOD! I promise!" say Liichen in a matronly tone
>Sonja just nods her head and watches you as you take out your Rippo and pocket stove
>you place down a block of fuel and light it

>Sonja's eyes widen with fear as soon as the Rippo lights up
>Sonja screams and backpedals into the seat, recoiling in fear from the fire
>"Shit! GODS DAMN YOU SNUFF IT OUT ANON!!!!" Liichen yells angrily at you, with the heat of a thousand suns
>"Oh God sorry sorry!" as you quickly snuff out the stove and your lighter
>Sonja is in a fetal position on her seat, lying down on her side and sobbing, whimpering to herself, both hands covering her burned head, the Bubba'd rifle between her emaciated thighs
>"... don't hurt me, please...."
>"... Daddy where are you? Daddy I'm scared... " whimpered Sonja



9 years ago
>"Daddy? What happened to mommy?" you ask your father
>he stops washing the dishes, and you simply stare at his dark blue eyes
>he looks down on you, squats down to your level and says, "Sonja, mommy's... she passed away to the other side sweetheart."
>"Will we pass away to the other side one day Daddy?" you ask inquisitively
>your father looks taken aback, and then resoundingly says, "... Yes. We'll go someday. When we do you'll see mommy again... "
>he looks like he's trying to hold back tears, "... I'll see you on the other side Carla."
>he snaps out of his thoughts, "Now come on Sunny, these dishes aren't gonna wash and dry themselves." resuming his cheerful attitude

>your father was a local hunter and your mother was a full time mother in the small town of Hertenpont
>Dad taught you to shoot and said, "A lady should always have a little surprise for any rowdy boys."
>Your mother didn't approve of him teaching a child how to use a gun, but she got over it
>when the Merge happened the country was in chaos, and Hertenpont was under constant attack from goblins gangs that had been teleported over by the Merge
>smaller towns and villages had already been taken over by orc and goblin rape parties
>Hertenpont was spared for some reason, even though the town only had 52 people in it, as most had fled to the cities for help
>they never came back
>yet the goblins and orcs never really attacked the town
>almost as if the goblins and orcs had been avoiding Hertenpont
>Eventually small rape parties would be launched against Hertenpont's defenses, only to be repelled by accurate rifle fire
>your father determined that the orcs and gobbies would eventually overcome their fears and launch a full scale invasion on the remaining town militia

>your mother disappeared shortly after the Merge, she went into the woods one night without any weapons
>there were a lot of dead deer in the woods that following week
>Dad looked kinda weird the day after Mom left, like he'd seen a ghost
>Dad told you that mommy had gone on a long hunting trip, and that she won't be back for a long time
>then you asked him again
>he said that she'd "Gone to the other side."

7 years after the Merge
>hetold you to stay in your room and to not look out "no matter what you hear”
>there was roaring, sporadic gunfire, followed by screams of dying men and louder roaring
>by the time the gunfire stopped it was just random roars, it was around midnight and that's when you heard banging at the front door
>"OPEN UP!!! SONJA IT'S DADDY!!!"

>your dad had you in a bridal carry, his modified Krauser M98 slung over his back
>he had blood and cut marks all over his body, a bloody rag over his right eye
>you didn't even have time to put on any shoes, just a simple white sundress
>he was carrying you into the deepwoods, running away from something
>a loud inhuman roar is heard behind you, gaining in volume
>"DON'T LOOK BACK SWEETHEART! WE'RE GONNA BE FINE, WE'RE GONNA MAKE IT OUT ALRIGHT! I PROMISE!" he yells, almost panicking
>"R I I I C C C H H H A A A R R R D D D!!!!!!" croaks the disjointed voice behind you
>you close your eyes and hope that Dad's fast enough

>suddenly you feel as if your world is falling down
>Dad tripped over a rock and the both of you fall over
>he breaks your fall, protecting you with his muscular arms
>he cries out in pain as he clutches his ankle, looks like it's been sprained
>you try to help him get up, but everytime he puts weight down on it he yells in pain
>the roars are getting louder now, getting closer
>your dad looks over his shoulder, looks at you, and unslings his M98, racking the bolt and unslinging an OD cloth bandolier of stripper clips

>he hands them to you, you look puzzled at first, but even as a 15 year old girl you know what's about to happen
>you beg and plead with your father to keep going, but he stops you
>"Listen to me sweety. I can't go very fast and we're losing time here. Your m... that thing... is going to come and kill us if you don't go now!"
>"But I can't just leave you Daddy! Don't leave me like mommy did!" you pleaded
>"Sunshine. Listen to Daddy. This is life, we can't all get the things we want and expect everyone to get along and expect everything to be alright sweety. Take my rifle, it's yours now. Treat her with respect and care and she'll never fail you. Remember, I will always be with you sweetheart.”
>”I loved you since the day you were born and since I first held you in my arms, you'll always be my little Sunshine, even in the darkest of hours." he says grimacing a smile
>"NOW GO!!!" he pushes you away and pulls out a large caliber revolver and bowie knife from his belt
>he stands his ground
>you turn around and run as fast as your bare feet could carry you
>you hear a loud roar as loud gunshots ring out through the woods
>you hear you father roaring and yelling inhumanly in time with the monstrous roar
>eventually you hear him scream in pain, before it was quickly silenced
>you just kept running deeper and deeper into the dark woods, until you hit your head on something hard, and everything goes dark



>you wake up in a dark, damp, place. You think it's your house, because it smells familiar, but something smells a bit off
>like something's dying
>you're in your house's kitchen, because you recognize the outline of the grill of the wood stove
>somebody lit it
>your father's rifle is nowhere to be seen
>a creak in the floorboards frightens you
>you turn to see the silhouette of a slender woman
>the woman steps into the fire's light, wearing a simple long sleeve shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans, and an old pair of faded-black low cut lace up canvas sneakers
>she has a slender build, around 5'8 or so, looks to be in her mid 30s, her hands are clasped together in anxiety
>her hair is... oh
>it's blonde like yours
>"Sonja, it's been a long time since we've last met." says the woman
>no
>no, but Dad said...
>"Momma's home sweetheart." says the woman with a warm smile
>her eyes look bloodshot, like she's been awake for 7 years
>but most telling of all is her eye color
>they're red, like blood red
>you backpedal away from her, wait, why are you naked?

>"Look at how much you've grown sweetheart, you're almost a grown woman now." the woman says warmly, slowly approaching you
>"Get away from me!" you yell
>she stopped in her tracks, tears welling up in her eyes, "How could you say that? Everything I did, I did it for you!" she's starting to get angry now
>"Where's Dad? What did you do to Daddy?!" you're asking desperately for an answer to a question you already knew the answer to.
>"That prick Richard, he set you up like this didn't he! That ungrateful bastard, I gave up my humanity to save you and this town, and this is the thanks I get! My own daughter turned against me!" her eyes were starting to glow
>"No! You're not my mom! Mommy died a long time ago, when she left us!"
>"FUCK YOU!!! YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT!!!" she yells at you, so loudly it hurts your ears
>the woman that was once your mother grabbed you by your shoulder length blonde hair towards the wood stove
>she presses the left side of your head into the griddle
>the smell of burnt hair and searing meat fills your nostrils
>the pain was unbearable, so you screamed in agony as your mother kept you on the wood stove for what seemed like an eternity
>she pulled you away from the stove
>eventually
>letting you go and staring at her pale hands in disbelieve
>"Oh God, wh... what have I done?!" she collapsed to her knees and starts apologizing to you, crying and sobbing uncontrollably
>"What have I done?! What kind of mother am I?" as she applies cold water and bandages your burnt face and head
>you were barely lucid enough to make out what happened


>she explained that she was a witch before the Merge
>after the Merge she realized she could protect the town and you if she sacrificed her humanity to the forest spirit
>she went into the woods and ate her own flesh in a ritual summoning of the wendigo spirit
>the goblins and orcs sensed her as too dangerous so they stayed away from Hertenpont
>your father couldn't bear to see his wife like this, so he organized a hunting party to kill her
>that's what caused her to go ballistic on the town militia
>she just wanted to see her daughter

>for the next two years you have been trapped in your old house in Hertenpont
>without any maintenance, the once sleepy town of Hertenpont fell into disrepair, roofs collapse from heavy rainfall and general decay
>weeds began to overgrow the once paved streets
>your own house began to grow mold and decay
>you would obediently obey your mother, or face the consequences of being beaten
>she would always regret it and apologize profusely
>but then she'd relapse if she even suspects you of trying to escape
>she would always go on hunts and bring back deer and other assorted woodland creatures
>eventually she brought back the butchered bodies of a small elven/dwarve caravan
>that was the tipping point for you as you plotted to escape from the house once she went out to hunt
>you find your father's rifle in the old rifle rack, you don't know why she didn't destroy it, maybe she still loves him
>maybe he really is watching over you

>sweat pours down your head and mixes with the rain
>you lost the white dress your mother forced you to wear to a sharp tree branch about a mile back or so
>you shoot at the deerbeast, hitting it center of mass as the 8.2mm Krauser round rips through its rotten innards and throws a black mist 10 feet back
>shit, only one round left.
>you see her chasing behind her beasts, still in her human form, though she's struggling to hold the wendigo in check
>it’s not too long now before IT comes out



>"SwEADt... ughhh.... I can't control it, you're making me angry!!!" she yells
>"Donnnnn't mAAke me punish you!!!" she's sweating bullets now, her eyes glowing red in the dark
>you take aim at her head and fire
>you missed
>the rain was making it hard to see your target
>now she's really angry
>"DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU, YOU LITTLE BRAT!!!!"
>her slender frame starts to bulge out with muscle, her skin growing fur and becoming more sallow
>her once slender arms begin to bulge with new muscle, ripping the sleeves of her long sleeve shirt with her biceps
>her jeans start ripping as her thighs and calves start filling out with muscle, tearing them apart at the seams
>her feet start growing in her sneakers, shifting bone and growing razor sharp nails that tear through the white rubber toe caps.
>the laces start popping apart as the seams rip open revealing her monstrous feet
>bone is cracked and regrown as she gains height
>your mother has now become a 9 foot wendigo, out for your blood

>you run towards a rotting log
>you do your best to cover yourself with mud in hopes of hiding your smell
>she passes through the area with her pets, stalking around the black woods with her red glowing eyes
>the stars being your only source of light
>you see a building up ahead
>she roars in the distance
>you run into it, locking the door behind you
>you vault over the cashier's counter and drop your rifle by accident
>you can HEAR her running footsteps
>so you ran into the back room, looking for places to hide
>you eventually discover the trapdoor and hide in there
>for two months you haven't ventured outside of the walk in freezer, too afraid to find her standing right outside waiting for you
>you were running out of potable canned food, a lot of this stuff was long gone anyway


>you woke up to a sudden loud banging noise upstairs
>muffled machine noises and talking
>you turn off the storm lantern you found in the backroom
>out of fright you accidentally kicked over your last canned meal
>they go quiet upstairs
>they're coming over to the freezer
>you cup your hands over your mouth, hiding yourself in the corner of the crawl space
>the door opens revealing a bright yellow light shining down, and the head of a man with a handgun

Present day
>Sonja was quiet again. Liichen was comforting her
>"So that thing I fought back there, that... wendigo... was your mother?" you asked
>she solemnly nods her head in confirmation, tears streaming down her fair face
>"So that thing really is going to keep coming after us if you're with us." you say monotonously
>Sonja speaks, "I'll do it."
>you and Liichen do a double take, "What?"
>"I'll take her out. She's suffering, she needs to be put down." says Sonja in a slightly more confident voice this time
>you look at each other, knowing what must be done
>"Are you sure Sonja? Can you handle it?"
>she nods, "I know how to shoot, but I'm a bit rusty." she says timidly, hugging her father's budda'd M98 tightly
>she looks at you with her wet blue eyes, "May I have the hot schokola now?" she asks shyly
>"Oh? Sure sweetheart, but.. I'll have to light the fire." you say
>"I... It's alright, you can light it, I trust you..."
>"... Daddy..." she responds, her smile melts your heart
>"Alright then, who wants some?" you ask with an equally warm smile on your face
>you must protect that smile at any cost
>she's in good hands Richard, may the Kube guide you to eternal fields of game

The following day
>You, Liichen, and Sonja have been in the 6x6; eating, playing cards, making small talk.
>the convoy stopped early in the morning and everyone freshened up
>no running water, so wet socks and canteen water had to do
>Henning approached Sonja and asked her how she's doing
>he seems to like her enough
>but there was always an unmistakable sadness in his eyes whenever he looked at her
>you walk over to Henning and asked him
>"Major, do you know when we'll be arriving at the objective?" you asked
>"Well Lieutenant, we've been traveling for more than 30 odd hours now, so I'd say it won't take long before we arrive."
>he lights up another cigarette, his lighter fails so you offer your Rippo
>he thinks about it, but then puts his cigarette back into the case, looking at Sonja being wiped down by Liichen
>"... you know I promised her that I'd quit smoking over our letters... she would tell me that she learned about how bad cigarettes were in school" says Henning, laughing.
>"Anyways, as I said, a few more hours and we should arrive by the afternoon in time for lunch." he says
>He calls for the convoy to begin moving again
>the other merc gets on the 5 tonner without another word and starts driving

>you've passed by a few towns, searching each of them for an electronics store, but no joy
>Sonja said she wanted to drive
>It took her a while, but she was smart enough to figure out the clutch
>her feet still hurt too much to be stepping on the pedals though
>so you had her sit on your lap while she steers
>you notice how quickly she's been gaining weight back up, her eyes look a lot less sunken in now, and you can see her ribs slowly disappearing
>she keeps snuggling up to you as she sits in your lap, and you keep telling her to watch the damn road
>Liichen gave her foot some elvish ointment for inflammation which seems to be working very well

>Funker and Rat are both awake
>Funker tries to fix the radio, but the transistor's been blown out and there's no way to fix those
>"Give it a rest Funker, it's not going to work." says Rat
>Funker instinctively whips around, venom in his mouth, but then he stops, showing restraint
>"Yeah Rat, I guess you're right..." says Funker as he lowers the heat
>you breathe out a sigh of relief, you don't want them to be making a mess in the car
>Funker whips out his trenchgun, it's got a dark brown walnut stock with a matte gray heatshield over the barrel and an 8 round shell tube
>he starts cleaning it
>Ohthankkube.12gauge
>"So... you and Funker, did you guys talk about it?" you ask
>Funker puts down the barrel brush and looks at Rat
>"I can't really fault him for what his ancestors did to mine, he's his own man after all; it wouldn't be fair to make him pay for the sins of his father." says Rat
>Funker for the first time gives a genuine smile to Rat, "I'm not going to forgive you for your transgressions towards me yet, Private Brantz."
>"Alright, I get it, you need your time... Corporal Canungra." says Rat

>it was around 3 or 4 in the afternoon
>the convoy fast approached an old derelict city
>Bruin City, what a shithole
>you remember hearing stories from your father about it
>even before the Merge the city was a shitty place to live in
>Bruin was known for its gang warfare before the Merge, it was lesser known for its meatpacking factories and steel manufacturing
>because after the war the steel was imported from a certain Oriental country for far cheaper
>so people started to turn to crime instead
>because of this the rich and middle class pushed for gun control and more cops
>no self-loaders, bolt actions, or anything that allows for two shots at a time
>only muzzle loaders or breech loaders are considered "sensible" for civilian ownership
>the cops would come in and search the houses of people who were suspected to own firearms
>ironically the only houses they didn't search were the gangsters'
>people had their heirloom bolt actions or war trophies their granddaddies left them taken away and crushed or incinerated

>gangs would operate out of Bruins, running drugs, booze, people, anything you can sell illicitly to children or shady men
>during the Merge, in the chaos of the rioting and looting, the gangs rose to power and conquered city hall
>no one could stop then because the cops were overwhelmed by the chaos of the rioting and looting
>no citizen could defend themselves because they were all disarmed
>most of the cops and firefighters were killed to make a point
>they're the police now
>but nigs gotta nog, so they fuck it all up anyway, leaving the city in the anarchy that they had started
>Bruins has now been in ruins since the day the Merge happened those 11 years ago, seemingly abandoned



>"Oh shit. Guys stop the vic!" exclaims Funker
>the 6x6 stops, everyone gets out and are setting up a perimeter
>Liichen stays inside the 6x6 with Sonja
>Sonja's bubba'd Krauser M98 loaded, windows rolled down and helping with covering the vehicles
>So proud of her

>Henning walks up, his black beret on and a paratrooper's Gewehr-3 in a patrol carry with his sling on
>the Gewehr 3 has a slim green handguard and paratrooper stock
>He's wearing an OD canvas web belt with 6 black leather mag pouches for his Gewehr-3 and nothing else on it
>He's changed from a full woodland camo fatigue set to only wearing an old brown army t-shirt with the 1st Valskerm Jagters insignia on the left chest
>the 1st VJ emblem is a black eagle flanked by lightning on both sides and clutching a commando knife in its claws
>He's wearing his woodland fatigue pants tucked into a pair of black double buckle paratrooper boots
>"What the hell are we stopped for? We gotta keep moving!" yelled Henning
>Grunk simply grunts and says, "It's harder to shoot your targets when you're moving..."
>Rat catches up with Funker
>"Ayyy! What the hell are you doing? Why did you stop the fucking convoy?" he asks
>Funker says, "If this is a city, then there's gotta be an electronic store around here, if there is I might be able to fix the radio and call in for a QRF."
>"QRF ain't gonna be assembled so quickly Funker." says Henning
>"I know, but still it'd be worth while to tell the Company to hurry the hell up with reinforcements to kill that dragon fucker." says Funker
>Henning shakes his head, frustrated that Funker stalled the convoy
>"Do you even know if there's gonna be an electronic store in Bruins?" asked Henning
>"Probably..." replied Funker
>Henning mulls it over. "Alright, but where are we gonna find a damn electronic store?"
>Funker looks up and down the cracked concrete street and finds a bus station with a tourist's guide of Bruins inside
>"We could try the mall, electronics store should be in a retail center near a hardware store I would think, so..."
>he scours through the map, looking for a hardware store
>he finds a large mall on the other side of the city

>"There's a Bigger 5s sporting goods store there, maybe we'll find a radio or electronics shop there?" said Funker
>"Looks like the mall's on the edge of the city, other side of where we are right... here" points out Rat
>Henning butts in, "That mall's in the general direction of where we need to be going anyways, I think we're about an hour or two's journey from the wood elf camp."
>Henning hesitates, "Fine, we stop by and check it out, but if there's nothing there we have to go; this place is ambush central."
>"MOUNT UP! I want that canopy removed and the .308 mounted on your 6x6 Anon. Get that girl some earpro and get on the gun! All units, keep your eyes peeled, we might be up against live, hostile targets. SO! If little red riding hood shows up with a period and a bad attitude, I expect you to chin the bitch!" yells out Henning
>you unfold the canopy of the 6x6 and mount the .308 Johnnings 1819 onto the pintle mount
>Liichen has her OSG40 (STG58) aimed at the various run down buildings as the convoy starts rolling down the cracked concrete street as quickly as possible
>Sonja's got her Karbine M98 cocked and ready to fire, though she still looks too frail to handle an 8.2mm Krauser
>It's the thought that counts
>Rat's busy fingering his Owen gun's safety on and off
>it's quiet, too quiet

>it took you 30 minutes to drive to the other side of the city, when it should've only taken you 10 or 15 at most
>there were a lot of cars that were blocking the way
>it’s an outdoor mall, surrounded with a massive parking lot engulfed with abandoned sedans and station wagons
>Liichen is whispering an elvish prayer, you ask her what it's about
>"I’ve got a bad feeling about this place Anon.”

>"Alright, Anon, I want you, Liichen, Funker, and Tunnel Rat to split up into groups of two and search the mall, looks like there's a Radio House and Bigger 5 in there. If you see anything interesting, find each other.”
>”... Me, Grunk, and this other merc here will watch over the vics and Sonja." says Henning
>the unknown merc introduces himself as Gus
>he's pretty average, 5'10" with black hair and brown eyes
>he's wearing an OD service shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tucked into a pair of OD fatigue pants
>he's got a pair of black low boots and gamaschen like you
>he carries an Outomatiese Stryd Geweer 40 (STG58) like Liichen, with a wooden stock and aluminum handguard and a bipod
>he'd got two mag pouches for his rifle on both sides of his web belt for a total of 4 mags and a canteen on both his hips
>he's wearing a two cloth bandoliers of .308 strippers for his rifle

>Gus simply nods
>"Okay, exploration team, you're gonna meet outside in 30 minutes to talk about what you found, then we'll go from there, ok move out." says Henning
>you and Liichen pair up, you've got your OD service shirt rolled up to the elbow too, and instead of tucking in your pants they're rolled up to the top of your gamaschen
>you left your tornister back in the 6x6, wearing only your OD web belt and suspenders with the basic riflemen loadout for a Mk14 rifle.
>you left your K-pot steel pot and patrol cap in the 6x6 too
>Liichen is still wearing her OD fatigue shirt, but tucked into a pair of OD fatigue pants cut into short shorts for hot weather combat
>she looks at you with bemusement, "You need me to put back on normal pants? I don’t want my battle buddy to be distracted..." she says
>you stammer out, "No! No. It's fine."
>Funker and Rat are both teamed up and headed for the Radio House while you and Liichen are going to the Bigger 5s sporting goods store
>Funker's wearing a bandolier of shotshells for his trenchgun, and Rat's ready with his babyshit green Owen gun

>"ChIEF, Weee have introoders."

>you and Liichen are walking step by step, weaving between the mass of rusted out vintage cars and station wagons of the long abandoned parking lot
>just a whole field of rusted metal and spilled cans and long-rotten food
>you and Liichen make your way to the Bigger 5s store. The glass windows were smashed in and the metal anti-intrusion window bars had been ripped away by a truck
>you both reach down to the barrel mounts on your weapons and activate your rifle lights.
>the store is a mess, the shoe and clothing rack are nearly entirely cleared out and there's signs of fire/water damage
>racks and shelves are toppled over the aisles
>there's a mess of black shit on the ground that you can't make out, but it smells metallic
>you press check your Mk14 and tuck it under your arm pits, sling unslung so you can drop it and draw your side arm should somebody take your rifle
>"We should probably check the back for a radio, or maybe the electronics section first." you say, Liichen nods
>she flips the fire selector to full giggle and proceeds forward to the electronics section
>there's not a single portable TV or flashlight left on the collapsed metal rack
>you proceed to the back room, there's a couple gun racks with what looks like a Fields Trapdoor rifle and sporterized muzzle loaders
>they look rusted to shit and the wood looks rotten
>may the Kube help them
>something catches your eye
>looks like some kind of sharpened pole, maybe it's made from a table leg?
>you hear footsteps behind you
>you whip around with your Mk14, finger on the trigger
>it's Liichen
>"Anon, there's no radio here. Maybe we should check in with Funker and Rat." she says
>don't do that again Liichen

>Funker is sifting through the debris of the Radio House, looking for anything that resembles a long range radio
>Rat is looking around impatiently, "Hey, hurry the hell up man, this place gives me the creeps."
>Funker sighs and sits down on the debris laden floor, frustrated.
>"GODDAMMIT! I thought were gonna find something." yells Funker in exasperation
>something rushes past the dark back room silently
>it was so dark in there, and no one has a flashlight on
>but Rat's and Funker's eyes were used to seeing in the dark
>they were born in it, molded by it
>"Rat, on me." as he fixes his 10 inch bayonet onto the Steubens M37
>Funker leads the way with his trenchgun, Rat following closely with his Owen
>the backroom of the Radio House is cramped and but big, like a proper warehouse
>there were huge metal racks with cardboard boxes with parts for dial phones, portable phone batteries, electric wires, TV power supply intake units, spare glass screens for broken TVs, etc
>Funker checks out on of the boxes, "Most of the cardboard had been molded by humidity, but the insides have been sealed in plastic wrap, so theoretically, the parts should mostly be fine"
>they both continue clearing the aisle they were walking down
>"Remember when we used to go vermin hunting in the tunnels? You know, the tunnel behind Grover Street Station? I used a pellet rifle I stole from Old Man Joe and you brought your father's lighter to light the way?" says Rat
>Funker chuckles, "Yeah, then you shot me in the thigh point blank because you thought I was a ghost or something."
>"You're lucky I don't shoot you right now motherfucker." retorted Rat
>"Hah. Oh please, I've seen you shoot, that's why you're a CQB specialist." smirked Funker
>Rat raises his fist
>Funker stops and takes a knee
>dead rat
>a lot of dead rats, literally a couple hundred dried out corpses or crushed skeletons
>Funker and Rat both turn off their flashlights and let their nightvision take over
>the only light coming from the sun through the cloudy skylight
>"We need to find a high voltage transistor, look for it in the radio parts section. Alternatively you could look for a radio." says Funker
>they make haste, knowing that they're being watched
>Funker and Rat ransack the whole warehouse
>Funker finds a ham radio, which he stuffs into his milsurp tornister

>there was a patter of feet, followed by sounds of crunching
>Funker point shoots his 12 gauge at the sound
>Rat aims at what Funker shot and relaxes
>"You really hate me that much you fucking Topsider?" says Rat nervously, adrenaline coursing through his veins
>the bloody remains of a large rat lay in pieces, shredded by the 00 buck of Funker's Steubens M37
>they both freeze as they here something large and wet drop to the ground
>their nightvision adjusts from the muzzle blast and see a large shape, around the size of a small child
>a small goblin holding a sharpened table leg clutches his wounds has collapsed on his spear
>the whole warehouse erupts in screaming

>"THE FUCK WAS THAT?!!" yelled Henning from the 5 tonner
>Grunk immediately charges in with his Johnnings 1819 MG
>"Grunk! Wait!" yells Henning, "Gah, fucking ORCS!!!!" as he charges into the Radio House after Grunk
>automatic gunfire can be heard throughout the quiet parking lot and the mall

>"MOVE YOUR ASS CORPORAL!" yells Rat as he unloads the Owen gun into the crowd of child sized figures
>the ground is littered in empty shotshells and 9mm casings as Funker gets up from his back
>"BOUNDING!" yells Rat as he runs towards the exit and reloads
>"DIE YOU FUCKING GREENNIGGERS!!!!" yells Funker as he slamfires his M37
>a goblin explodes as the left side of his face is blown apart, splattering his skull and brain matter all over his charging brethren behind him
>a shout behind Funker makes him twist
>Rat is pinned down by a larger goblin, his hands grappling with the large goblin's
>it's got a crude, tin can knife pressed against Rat's throat
>its face is twisted into a savage smile as saliva is dripping into Rat's eyes and face
>an unusual rage fills Funker
>he charges up to the goblin, bayonet affixed
>the 10 inch bayonet skewers the goblin in his sides, it's face suddenly turning into pain manifest
>Funker lifts the large goblin off Rat and over towards the charging hoard of charging goblins
>he slamfires the remaining six shells into the crowd through the goblin's body

>the other side of the goblin explodes into a gore fest of guts, shit, bone shrapnel and buckshot as Funker slamfires his trenchgun through the skewered body
>the goblins recoil from the barrage of gore from their fallen cousin
>Funker's eyes are staring right down every one of their souls
>one of them starts to shit themselves
>Funker shakes off the remaining guts and meat off the muzzle and adopts a bayonet fighting stance
>he charges into the disoriented goblin mob
>he kicks one of them in the head as he parries the machete of a small goblin, and slices through the neck of the creature
>he goes down clutching his severed throat
>Funker hears a screeching behind him
>he ducks and delivers a horizontal slice with his bayonet and disembowels a jumping goblin in mid flight
>a gunshot rings out behind the goblins, the scent of blackpowder filling the room
>time to fuck off
>Funker runs towards Rat and picks him up
>"You hurt?!"
>a large shadowy figure emerges from the dark
>"KiLL Dem alal, my niggAWS!!!!'
>a dark brown orc dual wielding sawn off coach guns
>must've been a Zwarterian/Orc rape baby
>the goblin rally around their leader, fueled by his charisma like a commisar to a bunch of Zhukovian conscripts
>Rat pulls out a Schmidt und Westmoreland .357

>"Get down" says a familiar gruff voice
>Funker grabs Rat and yanks him to the cold concrete floor, Rat yelping in the process
>a hundred plus rounds of glorious real fuckin' tears through the goblin horde like tissue paper, ruining everyone's night vision in the process
>Grunk's face is stoic as he hipfires his Johnning 1819 MG from the door way, fanning the warehouse in a field of red tracers
>Funker grabs Rat by his suspenders and crawls through the doorway
>Grunk's hot spent shells falling on their bodies as they crawl past his 6 foot figure
>as the belt runs dry, none of the goblins remain as the brown orc stands alone with his sawn offs

>there is a tense silence as both the equally tall orcs stare each other down
>Grunk grabs his pinned boonie and hands it to the crawling Funker
>he drops his belt fed and pulls out his sawn off .700 Nitro Express elephant gun
>the brown orc's red eyes are practically radiating anger
>he is furious
>the brown orc charges towards Grunk with his sawn offs and a rusty looking machete
>Grunk pulls out his own machete from his thigh sheath
>it's got brass tacks on the wooden handle and etchings of some rhinoceros looking creature on the blade
>he yells in orcish as he charges
>they get about two yards from each other before Grunk does a slide and knocks the brown orc off his feet
>Grunk chops down his machete, but the Brownie dodges, and kicks Grunk off him
>Grunk gets knocked into a high metal storage rack and knocks it over, his body crushing several dying goblins
>his OD fatigue uniform stained with blood and gore
>Brownie charges at Grunk, his right foot raised to stomp on Grunk's head
>bang
>8 shells of 00 buck punched through the brown orc's tough hide
>Brownie didn't even flinch
>"Watch your fire stupid softskin! Stay out of this!" yells Grunk, rubbing his temples and tearing off pieces of his skin and ripping out the buckshot from his skull
>lucky the pellets came in from a shallow angle
>"BUT...."
>"FUCK OFF!!!!!" yells Grunk as he charges Brownie and tackles him to the ground
>Rat is unloading his .357 into the orc's center of mass, it's not very effective
>Funker pulls out before he attracts Brownie over to them

>Brownie's machete landed a hit on Grunk's machete and get parried
>their both bleeding pretty hard from the their wounds now
>Grunk got a new scar
>Brownie lost both his tusks
>but Grunk's fighting a losing battle
>the buckshot ain't cutting it chief
>Brownie raises his machete and prepares to deliver a death blow
>"StUpiddd greentribe, the BruiNNSs gang will Capp all Yous asses kneegaww"

>a scream from the entrance is heard
>Funker charges with his trenchgun bayonet first and plunges it 10 inches deep into the brown orc's ribcage
>his face is one of absolute carnage and rage as he plunged cold steel into the brown orc
>his screams were inhuman, almost orc like
>the 250 pound orc is now being pushed by the 180 pound redhead across the floor
>the bodies of dead or dying goblins being pushed out of the way as Funker paints the floor red with the orc's blood

>Grunk stares at Funker in disbelief
>a smile forms on his once grimacing face as he laughs
>"THERE YOU GO BOY! KILL!!!! KILLL!!!!!!!" yells Grunk as his inner primal orc nature surfaces to replace his once calm demeanor
>"KKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" yells Funker as he continues driving his bayonet through the brown orc
>Funker finally relents as he pulls the bayonet out, relishing in the feeling of every inch of cold steel being pulled out
>Grunk runs up to the brown orc bleeding out, the fucker's still alive
>and angry
>Grunk raises his machete and brings it down on the brown orc's arms, lopping them off completely
>the brown orc screams in agony and kicks his strong muscular thighs wildly
>Grunk is chuckling as he relishes in the brownie's pain
>"STOP FUCKING MOVING YOU NIGGER!!!" yells Funker as he loads a slug round into the breech of his trenchgun
>he aims for his thigh and pulls the trigger
>the brown orc screams even louder in agony as his right thigh gets blown off at the mid thigh, severing muscle and sinew
>Grunk wipes his bloody tribal machete on his uniform sleeve before re-sheathing it
>he levels the .700 Nitro Express sawn off at the orc's head
>he whispers a prayer to the Kube in orcish
>he pulls the trigger on one of the barrels
>a deafeningly loud roar is heard through out the mall as the .700 NE round disintegrates the brown orc's head
>it's like someone dropped a watermelon from the Imperial State Building in Juden Central
>a quiet stillness that followed

>the convoy is rolling down the highway again
>they tried their best, but they couldn't get the smell of iron off Grunk and Funker
>"It's fine, dried blood can be used as camo!" says Grunk
>Funker is washing out the congealed blood from under the heatshield of his trenchgun and assorted parts
>Rat is repacking his Owen gun mags, startled by what Funker did
>Henning's driving with Gus (the other merc) in the front
>"That was fucking metal dude." says Rat
>Funker simply nods
>"You saved my life softskin. If you were an orc I would call you my battle brother." says Grunk
>"Pleasure's mine, greenskin."
>they lean over and do a bro fist

>"You saved my life man." says Rat
>"I know, sorry for killing your friend back there." says Funker
>Rat remembers the rat Funker shot
>he laughs, "HAH! Fucking redhead. You gotta calm the fuck down Funk, thought you were gonna cum all over your pants back there." jokes Rat
>"Yeah, adrenaline will do that to ya. You were pretty sadistic too you know..." says Funker
>Rat had taken to stuffing the dead orc with unpinned hand grenades and leaving it outside the mall
>He also fired a thermite round into the mall and burned it down
>pretty sure the Radio House was home to a nest of gobbies
>they heard shrill screams when they were leaving the burning heap of concrete and steel
>Funker marks the city as goblin infested on a map
>"I'm gonna need some time to fix the transistor, need to find a way to hook up the soldering gun to a power source..."

5 miles outside Bruins
>the radio cracked to life, filling the air with radio chatter
>everyone cheered ask Funker starts to switch over to Company HQ
>"HQ, HQ, this is Recon-1, do you copy over?" says Henning
>"..."
>"... Recon-1 this is HQ, glad to hear you back gentlemen, you had the investors regretting hiring humans. Give us a sitrep, over."
>"Fucking high elves…" says Henning off the receiver.
>"This is Major Daniel Henning speaking as the provisional commanding officer of the operation. We lost radio communication until our RTO fixed the long range.The convoy is destroyed, we lost all the Gage Kommandos, the kitchen truck, most of our food trucks and nearly all of the company. Commander Darion is KIA. We have seven mercs remaining plus one civilian girl in tow. There are only two vehicles remaining, a 5 tonner containing arms for the client and a 6x6 MUTT recon car, break."
>"Our convoy was ambushed and destroyed by a Cat. 3 rain dragon when we were 400 klicks out from Neu Hawe on Highway I-17... "
>"We are currently proceeding according to the mission and are due to arrive by sunset, over."

>"Copy, by the way rain dragon’s been shot down by Neu Hawe's air defense flak and finished off by artillery fire. The merchants are going to have a field day with its scales and flesh, break"
>"Anyways, we were worried, you cut communications for almost 48+ hours. We're going to send in an armored QRF along with additional supplies and fuel. Don’t forget that we're trying to establish trading relations with the surrounding area; it's an untapped market, so do not sour relationships with the locals I... stand by."
>"Ahem... Recon-1 I have just been informed that you are allowed to take unilateral actions in the field, but just make sure you don't engage civilians unless you have a good reason to. Over."

>Henning seems enthusiastic, but then he turns to looks at you
>"HQ, I'm going on record to relinquish my command over to Anon, I believe he is more qualified to lead the unit than I am. Over"
>"Copy, it's on record."
>you begin to protest, but Henning stops you
>"Listen kid, the last time I tried to lead I got my whole squad killed in Ia Draco. I don't want to do it again kid, please." say Henning
>you mull it over
>are you ready to lead as a leader again?
>Everyone is looking at you
>Liichen and Sonja especially
>"Shit Anon, if anyone should lead it's you, the mission calls for us to train and establish good relations with the locals, and you're a humanitarian... so..." says Funker looking at Sonja
>"Anon, I'll follow you into the depths of Perdition and back." says Liichen
>"I hear you were a great warrior before the Merge, if those stories are true, then I trust you to lead the warband." says Grunk

>"Alright, but I want a promotion and a bump in my pay grade. Hell, I'll be commander if everyone gets a promotion and pay raise!"
>Henning smiles, "ALL IN FAVOR OF COMMANDER ANON SAY AYE!!"
>"AYE!" says everyone
>"OK! Command, this is Lieutenant Anon speaking, I accept the transfer of command.”

>the convoy continues on to the wood elves
>HQ says that it's gonna take at least three months before the QRF arrives
>tfw the quick reaction force isn't quick at all
>the Company is enlisting help from the trade caravans to establish fuel depots to fuel the armored column as it moves in the reinforce the lost company
>the tanks have to be shipped to Weiße Klippe by boat to save on fuel before it can make its way further down south into Wild territory
>the company's also organizing an airline company to airdrop fuel to resupply the convoy at critical points
>tfw your convoy is responsible for the creation of an entirely new trade route
>tfw you made a literal war economy

>you were promoted from Lieutenant to Lieutenant Major
>Henning to Lieutenant Colonel
>Funker was promoted from corporal to sergeant
>he's gonna be handling bayonet courses for the woodies
>Rat's been promoted to Lance Corporal
>Liichen was promoted to Staff Sergeant from Sergeant
>Grunk from Corporal to Sergeant
>Gus stayed quietly in the back, he was promoted to Sergeant from Corporal too

>the convoy was now off the road, and traveling into the swamp woods of the wood elfs’ turf
>the sun has set and the high beams of the vehicles light up the night
>where's that damn village, you thought
>"Anon, turn off the cars, the engine scares them." says Liichen
>she steps out and yells out in elvish
>the trees yell back
>ohgodtheyreinthetrees.warcrime
>everyone raises their guns up, to see a bunch of elves wearing leathers and furs
>they're all glaring at Grunk
>he simply spits on the ground

>they're all wearing light brown leather capes covered with some sort of vine webbing net
>they've tucked leaves and branches between the vines to create quite the effective camouflage
>they wear deer skin leggings and shirts dyed brown to match the forest
>they wear hoods with leaves sticking out, attached to a special vine headband
>they are all armed with either spears or bows
>they have leather thigh quivers mounted from rope belts, tied down to their thighs by vine or twine to prevent flapping when running
>they're wearing mesh veils over their faces, like the old world Jæger units

>you're making a mental note of using these guys to form a Kommando unit
>you're gonna call them Leaf Berets
>yeah that's a good name Anon

>Liichen talks to them in elvish, and they lighten their guard, climbing down the trees
>one of them walks up to you
>he's looks middle aged, which by elf standards means he’s pretty old
>he lifts his mesh veil and looks you in the eye
>his face is painted green and brown with what you can assume is plant matter and mud
>like a primitive form of woodland face camo
>holy shit these guys are like a special ops group
>Liichen translates what he's saying to you
>"Hello outsider, I am Elder Faenan, of the Faenan tribe. You must be the mercenaries that we were expecting."
>the two of you exchange info
>"Is this all you've brought with you Lieutenant?" asks the elder
>you tell them about the ambush taking out most of the company
>"Yes, it is unfortunate to hear that, may the Gods of War guide those warriors to their eternal peace." says the elder
>"May the Kube send them to their rest." says Grunk
>the elder smiles at Grunk, "You speak of the Kube too? Then we are friends halfling."

>wait
>halfling?
>Grunk?

>"Come, come, you must all be tired, you can rest your iron chariots back in the village, follow us."
>the villagers crowd around the 5 tonner and 6x6 as the convoy rolls into the village deep in the woods
>the wood elves live in treehouses built high or cabins on the ground, don't ask how they got their furniture up there
>there's an invasive species of plant that is similar to cotton, but grows as a type of moss or lichen on trees
>they use these to make their clothing and fabrics

>maybe we should tell the company about this?
>the fabric merchants are going definitely going to want to hear this
>the villagers invite the squad over to a gigantic tree stump turned communal dining hall
>the vast interior is decorated with a stone fire place and deer furs
>the villagers hold a feast of roasted…
>... deer? With a fruit and vegetable platter as well
>Liichen is loving this, she may a high elf but she still loves her wood elf cuisine
>says it reminds her of her village
>Sonja seems happy, but still kinda sad, says it reminds her of the town meetings and feasts she used to have with her dad and Hertenpont townies

>even Grunk is having a good time chatting it up with the elf Kommandos from the forest meeting
>apparently they're the village hunters, but also the impromptu militia

>you and Henning decide to talk business, so you sit down with the elder
>Liichen is translating for you both
>"So what about the other villages? What about the human and elven settlements around here?" you ask
>the elder goes quiet, sighing before speaking.

>"I'm afraid they've been taken over by the goblins that have come over to this world with us."
>"You see, we're new arrivals, so much so that we haven't even learned this world's history. We've only been here for 5 years after all, it's like a second to us." says the elder
>"When the outside elves came with their 'guns' as they call it, we realized that we needed to upgrade our arms in order to survive, but these villages only get a caravan visit every 6 moons for new supplies, and we needed to modernize to this world's standards before we are wiped out by either our neighbors or the goblins and orcs." says the elder
>"We are prepared to give up some of this sacred forest for your logging, as well as a plot of land for your Dwarven 'mines'..."
>he says mines with a shudder
>"... just please don't pollute too much. This forest is sacred to us."

>sure fine man, I like going innawoods too
>"Hmmm. Then we are in agreement." he stands up and nods, doing a slight curtsy
>you stand up and salute the elder, before extending your hand out to shake his
>"Consider this a cultural exchange, Elder Faenen."
>he apes your salute and shakes your hand

>the following week passes as the villagers are gathered and informed of the outside world
>on the basics of Nortelandish and this world's history and technology
>Henning turns out to be a great teacher
>Liichen helped to grade homework with him
>you take this time to learn some elvish from Liichen
>she's teased you the whole time, but at least now you understand basic elvish
>mostly swears, but you're getting there
>Sonja learns pretty fast too, she's also growing fast, her skin looks much healthier now and her body's much more normal looking
>but she's still a pretty timid girl, she says it's in her nature, but you just don't know about that

>"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU AIMING AT YOU IDIOT!!!" yells out Henning at a young villager
>he looks to be about a teenager
>ahhh, reminds you of your old days in basic, before officer's school
>Henning's time with the Gaullian Foreign Legion sure is paying off
>the recruit is trying to load his Krauser M98 with the 5 round stripper clip, but he is failing to do so without trembling
>Henning grabs his rifle and shows him the proper way of loading the stripper and charging the rifle

An hour later
>Henning sighs and sits down on a chair near the ad hoc range at the edge of the village
>they were supposed to train two platoons of elves for the militia, but progress has been slow
>these new arrivals have been challenging, due to the language barrier
>but they're becoming more accepting of firearms, as long as they have wood on them
>fucking keeblers
>can't blame them though, they have good tastes
>you sit down with Henning and offer him a cigarette
>"Naw, I'm trying to quit here Anon." he says
>right, his promise to his daughter
>you light a cigarette and contemplate on how the whole week has been

>you were ambushed in less than a day's drive from Neu Hawe
>you met a cute redhead elf that you want to bang, but can't
>you adopted a fucking daughter
>all of that took place within three days

>"So, how are the recruits?" you ask
>"Well, some of them might not be cut out for combat duties, maybe medics or logistics instead?" he says
>"At least most of them are grasping the fundamentals of being in a military unit. How's progress on the Leaf Berets?" he asks
>you sigh, "It's pretty good, but they refuse to use guns, says they're too loud. I think we'll have to put in a requisition order to HQ for suppressors and handguns/SMGs" you say
>"Hey, speaking of HQ, when are the reinforcements coming? The elder said that there were gangs of goblins around, what do your scouts say?" asks Henning
>you respond, "Well, I've been going out with Funker and a couple of the Leaf Berets, but we’ve only found droppings and some traces of goblins; regardless, we're strengthening our earthen defenses with the construction team."
>"As for the QRF, it's gonna take them a month or so from now, there's bad weather up north delaying the ships from coming down the East coast and the airwing's tied up doing missions in Suidlande, so we're gonna have to stick it out by ourselves I'm afraid." you pause

>"You said a while back, that night when that creature attacked, that it'll be back... " you say to Henning
>"... we found some dead deer near the outskirts of the woods." you say
>Henning simply stares at the recruits as they take turns shooting targets down range
>"They're not ready yet Commander Anon. They're just FNGs, some of them haven't even undergone live fire exercises yet." he says
>you mull it over in your head, if that wendigo fucker is coming over you're gonna need a lot more firepower and silver
>"Where the fuck are we gonna find silver?"
>"Maybe we need to start mining operations for silver soon?" says Henning
>"Do I look like a hick miner to you?"
>you both laugh

>"But what happens if that thing shows up though?" you ask
>"Then we'll have to hope that we've got enough firepower to kill it. I don't know much about cryptozoology, but silver is our best bet at killing that thing."
>"From what I've learned in my spare time, these things are caused by committing cannibalism, in a forest infected by the spirit, the only way to kill a wendigo is to shoot it full of silver and preferably dismember and decapitate it, then you'd have to destroy its heart and burn the remains." says Henning
>you think about Sonja, if she really has the guts to kill her mother like that

>"Oh, poor girl, first she loses her mother and then her father."
>"I don't even want to be a dad Henning, I'm not ready yet." you say
>Henning looks you dead in the eye and says, "Son, there are times in a man's life when he cannot falter, especially when he's made a promise, if you leave her with me you'll break her heart. You’re the first human being she's seen in months, years. You must be strong, for her Anon." says Henning
>"Ahh, well thanks for the talk Lt. Colonel." you say
>"Anytime... wait, Anon."
>"Yeah?"
>"You know Liichen loves you, right?" says Henning
>"I know, but after what happened with Monika, I just don't want to experience that..." you say, looking down trodden

>"Kid, listen, the weight of the world is upon us. We are months from proper reinforcements and are deep in enemy territory. Most of our company's dead..."
>you get a flashback to the burning merc and the wendigo
>"... everyday we're behind enemy lines means the higher the probability that we'll all die. If I were you Anon, I wouldn't worry about hurt feelings... I'd worry about spending the time we have left with those we love..."

>"You don't understand Henning, I don’t wanna hurt no more! I don't want to lose another person I love again!" you say
>Henning simply stares at you
>"You think you were the only guy here who's lost someone Anon? I lost someone in Markaya too. I made a promise to a kid in my squad. He was so bright Anon."
>"I asked him, 'kid, why the fuck did you join the army?'..."
>"... and he replied, 'I wanted to serve my country Sergeant!'..." Henning laughs
>"I treated him like the son I never had. We went through so much together, we celebrated his birthday. I even got one of the chefs to bake the damn kid a cake."
>"... my whole squad used up all our schokolade rations just to bake him a cake because I told everyone how much he loved chocolate..." Henning is smiling, his mind going back to 1868 BM (Before Merge)
>"I treated him like he was my son I never had..."
>"... We all knew we were going to die Anon. It was just a matter of time, that's the nature of being in country...”
>”... there were only two ways out of that place; maybe you're lucky and you leave in a hospital bed, or maybe you're lucky in the wrong way and get sent home early in a one way coffin... " muses Henning
>he looks like his soul left his eyes as he stares down at his canteen
>"... he got lucky the wrong way... " Henning wipes a tear forming in his eyes
>"... I lead my squad out to patrol the wire of our firebase, while the engineers were still constructing the perimeter..."
>"... PFC Lentz was shot in his lower intestines. There was nothing we could do. Our squad was pinned down for 2 hours in that jungle. He slowly bled out from his wounds while all hell broke loose in the firebase..." Henning continued
>"Before he died, he told me how sorry he was for getting hit, about how scared he was, how it much it'd hurt... "
>"... we just laid there on the jungle floor, until the sniper left and enemy reinforcements came. I'll never forget how he called me 'Dad' as he took his last breath…”

>"... he was the first official combat casualty of the two month siege on Ia Draco Valley..."
>you were silent, staring at Henning as he looked at you
>"Anon... Private Lentz died, knowing that someone cared for him in a place where the average lifespan of an FNG was two months maximum." he continues
>"... he died, knowing he mattered to someone in this cruel world we live in Anon... and if that means exposing yourself to the pain of their loss, I'd say that it's a necessary sacrifice."
>"I don't know about you, but if I were in your place, I'd get as close to Liichen as possible, tell her you love her, have a few last moments with her, while we still have time." says Henning
>you start talking, "But... I don't..."
>what he says next stops your train of thought

>"So why'd you adopt Sonja then? If you want to be disconnected from others to protect yourself, why'd you become her father?" says Henning
>shit
>you think back to what Monika said in her last dying breaths
>she doesn't want you to be stuck in the past
>but deep inside you always were
>every time you looked at Liichen, you'd think about Monika's smooth touch
>she was a smooth operator and a smooth lover
>you really don't want to imagine Liichen in her place, saying those same last words...
>your brow scar starts tingling again
>is there a way of defeating the wendigo? Or will the goblins and orcs get to you first?
>"Anon... whatever decision you make, I'll respect it. But as a fellow vet to another, when our time comes, I hope you've made a decision."
>Henning stands up, straightening his black beret, and continues to lecture the recruits about trigger discipline.
>the idiots keep flagging each other with their muzzles

Week Two, Faenen Deepwoods, 2km south of Faenen Village
>the woods were quiet
>too quiet
>it was noon but the swampy deepwoods of South Nortelande were as dark as dusk
>barely enough sunlight penetrated the thick canopy of trees above to allow for vision beyond 20 yards
>you've got your Krauser Karbine M98 in hand, still no long range optic mounted yet, but iron sights work much better in the near CQB environment of the deepwoods
>the paratrooper-style triangle stock is folded back onto the receiver in the "parachute jump" position, the bubba'd rifle tucked deep under your arm pits as close to your body as possible, wary of any approaching enemies
>you hear a crackle of leaves to your left
>without hesitation you twist to your left, drop to your knee and hip fire at the source of the sound
>there's a smoking ~8.2mm hole in the "head" of the wooden target
>you work the bolt, chambering another 8.2mm round into the chamber
>"WEAPONS ON SAFE!" says a familiar voice
>you flip the safety lever to the right side of the bolt
>the outline of a man appears from behind a tree about two yards from the target
>he's wearing an OD service shirt tucked into a pair of woodland camo cargo pants
>no rifle, just a belt with two canteens and a leather drop leg holster
>he's got on a familiar pair of low boots and gamaschen
>"Not bad at all Sonja, your aim's improved." says Anon

>Sonja comes over to you, her M98 slung over her shoulders
>"Time for lunch, you've got your A-frame pack?" you ask
>Sonja takes off her web gear and detaches the A-frame from the suspenders
>she takes the mess kit off the frame and pulls out a can of corned beef hash from her A-frame assault pack
>she takes out a small pocket stove from her pocket and you give her your Rippo
>she lights up the stove with a fuel tablet and opens the can
>she scoops her blonde shoulder length hair behind her right ear
>God she looks so cute like this
>Sonja's body has become more and more healthy over time
>now she looks like a normal 17 year old teenage girl
>her body still needs some work though, but combat training has begun to harden parts of her body
>her arms have become more solid, her thighs/calves more defined
>she's shaping up to be quite the soldier

>"Anon, the corned beef is ready!" she says with a cheerful voice
>she's still quite timid in her voice, but you're beginning to think that's just how her voice naturally was
>before her mother turned into that freak of nature
>there's an amiable quietness between you two as you both eat your rations
>you sip on your hot coffee as she looks on curiously
>"... What? You want some?" you ask
>she nods enthusiastically, "Yes! I never tried coffee. Is it good?" she asks innocently
>you give her mess cup and she takes a sip of the hot liquid
>"BLEUGH! Ughh, it tastes gross Anon! Why do adults drink this?" she says in disgust, giggling
>"Trust me sweetheart, in time you'll understand." you respond

>she brings her hair back behind her ears again as they drop
>she sees you looking at the burnt side of her head and face
>it's healed up nicely, but it's still very noticeable, it might not have horrifically disfigured her, but it's left its mark
>she's looking at your brow scar again
>she kept asking you about how you got that scar, but everytime she brought it up you deflected
>your mind kept going back to the talk you had with Henning a week back

>"So why'd you adopt Sonja then? If you want to be disconnected from others to protect yourself, why'd you become her father?"

>fuck you Henning
>what the fuck were you supposed to do? You couldn't just leave her like that, in that dark crawlspace
>all alone, by herself
>with that thing on the loose
>you had no choice but to care, if wasn't even an option

>after you served your tour of duty in Markaya you went back to the States and tried finding a job
>the army diagnosed you with depression and battle fatigue and sent you back with a couple of medals
>but nobody wanted a man who could call in a rolling barrage while simultaneously firing off a bolt action rifle with pinpoint accuracy on a running human sized target 100 yards away
>the only job you had was a shitty job as a janitor at the local high school
>the freshmen and sophomores would call you names and make fun of you by purposefully shoving toilet paper down shit filled toilets
>the juniors and seniors would call you a baby killer and a "puppet of the military industrial complex"
>you don't even think they knew what that meant
>you spent two years doing nothing but drinking and smoking yourself to death in an abandoned house outside of town in the woods
>the people that lived on the edge of town avoided your house, saying how you were crazy and withdrawn

>those years were the lowest you've ever been
>you'd have nightmares about that day over and over again
>all that time you kept thinking about Monika, about how it should've been you that got killed that day
>she deserved to live more than you did
>what have you done with your life?
>it’s not even worth living anyways

>you were contemplating suck starting your Hi-Mag when the Merge happened
>people who knew what kind of person you were ran to you for help
>you turned them away with superior firepower and positioning
>eventually you were discovered by the city's militia patrol and you went back to society
>this world was new, and people like you were back in hot demand again
>towns needed mercs, horse-drawn caravans need guards, so you were hired wherever you went
>you did this for a while until you wound up in Neu Hawe, where you decided to stay for a hiatus from guarding caravans
>but all the time you just kept thinking about how it should’ve been you on that rainy day...

>"Anon? You in there?" asks Sonja
>you snap out of your thoughts
>"Anon, I know I shouldn't, but, how'd you end up with that scar?" she asks
>you debate whether you should let her know and let her get closer to you
>or don't and remain distant
>fuck it
>you begin to tell her about the world before the merge Merge, what it was like, how life was like
>you told her about how you joined the army
>how beautiful Markaya was
>then you told her about Monika.
>throughout your story she listened with rapt attention
>when you told her about Monika, she gasped in surprise
>"Anon... I'm so sorry, I didn't know." she says bashfully, her hands playing with her hair
>she comes over to hug you
>her head touching yours
>she looks at your scar, her damp eyes meeting your tired 1000 yard stare
>"Can... Can I touch it Anon?" she asks quietly
>you tell her it's okay
>she gingerly touches it with her fingers, when they first made contact they recoiled with fear, fearful that it would hurt you
>you cup her cheeks in your hand and gently stroke her hair
>"You can touch mine too Anon."
>you did not expect that to happen
>"Are you... are you sure sweetheart?" you ask in shock
>"It's fine, it won't hurt me at all..." she says
>"... it's only fair, since I asked about your scar."
>you touch the burnt part of her head gently
>she buries her face into your chest
>sleep eventually overcomes you as you both fall asleep in each other's arms


>Lera Vynn blasts throughout the compound of the impromptu Command Post
>the center of the wood elf village was converted into a temporary HQ/firebase with sandbags piled 5 feet high
>the outskirts of the village had its trees blown down by detcord and a certain axe-wielding half-orc
>all in all, a solid defensive position

>between his spare time, Funker plays poker with Rat in the comms tent or trains recruits in hand-hand rifle/bayonet combat
>Rat helps out a lot with those lessons
>the wood elves weren't too thrilled when 100 yards of trees were demolished to establish clear lanes of overlapping fire
>the outskirts are lined with trenches and wooden pillboxes/foxholes with patches of the Spikegrass artifact laid down as a form of ad hoc concertina wire
>the Spikegrass may stop goblins, but the orcs are a different story all together
>but that's what the Gravity artifacts and grenade tripwires are for

>summer's rolled around, and the South is getting steamy
>"Uh huh, alright, yeah, Lieutenant Major Anon! Top brass wants to speak to you." says Funker
>he's topless save for a wifebeater and only wearing a pair of his OD fatigue pants rolled up to his knees and a pair of elven thong sandals instead of the usual low boots
>his trenchgun lays at the side of his radio table, its bayonet sheathed on his web belt
>you take the radio headset from him and put it on
>"This is Commander Lt. Maj Anon speaking. Oh? Yes, sir. Understood sir. Alright. I'll make use of this info. Recon-1 out."
>"What's HQ say?" asks Funker
>"Good new and bad. Which you wanna hear first Sergeant?"
>"Shit, good news first." says Funker
>"Alright, good news is that the airwing is no longer being tied up in the Suidlande contract, the elven rebels down there have surrendered to the human forces..."
>"... bad news is that recon planes indicate a large formation of goblins moving down from Bruins towards Woody territory."


>Funker looks stunned, "Holy shit. But the reinforcements are still months away! How many??!!" exclaims Funker
>"... aerial recon estimates about 5,000 armed with blackpowder weaponry and rudimentary small arms and melee weapons. Plus about ~10 odd unidentified targets too, big ones..." you say
>Funker is silent, "... when are they going to reach the woods?"
>"... a week's time. Maybe even less, maybe in two or three days even..." you say

>Funker looks dejected
>"So they've got what? 5,000 line infantry and around 10 unidentifieds? They have heavy infantry support while ours is bogged down by storms up north..."
>"How the fuck are we going to defend this shit? We got an inexperienced militia force fighting with milsurp our grandfathers used in the 1st Pan-continental War, facing up against a large and determined enemy force with no regard for their own personal well being nor preservation when fighting in mob groups..." says Funker
>"... my God, we are going to run out of ammo in the first wave." Funker sits back down, facepalming on the table
>the radio starts acting up, breaking up Claudia Brucken's beautiful voice
>the lyrics to "I Always Kill the Things I Love" getting distorted by static
>"OH GREAT!!!! NOW THIS FUCKING THING IS ACTING UP AGAIN!!!!" yells Funker in exasperation
>"Maybe you should get that thing fixed." you say
>"With what? It's not a problem with the radio it's a problem with geography and interference. This whole forest is in a natural depression, we're 100 yards under sea level Anon."
>...

>"I should go check on Liichen." you say
>"Yeah, yeah, see you later LT" says Funker as he begins fiddling with the radio's frequency knobs
>you step out of the small communications tent, the sun's bearing down through cleared canopy above
>you wonder what other people are doing right now

>you walk back towards the village to where Liichen is teaching the wood elf kids
>on the way you see two very familiar blondes


>"Remember, if an enemy grabs a hold of your rifle, you can either close in the distance and shove him off, headbutt him, punch him, buttstroke him, or muzzle slam him." says Rat
>Sonja laughs when he said buttstroke, she attempts to suppress it and remain a good student, but fails
>she fixes her hair and moves it back behind her right ear
>Rat laughs along, "Come on Sonja, you need to get serious here!"
>"Okay Uncle Mike." says Sonja, still giggling like a schoolgirl
>"... so in any case, either fight and use the enemy's momentum against himself, or let him take the rifle, which will probably surprise him, and use that element of surprise to... " he pauses for dramatic effect
>Rat pulls out his Schmidt und Westmoreland .357 from his leather drop leg holster
>"... and then we go from there." says Rat

>"Anon!" yells out Sonja in glee as she runs over to you, her bubba'd Krauser M98 dangling from her back
>you don't smile back at her


>you talked to Henning about the news
>Henning thinks it's pertinent to inform everyone about the news from the recon planes
>you both are in agreement

>reports from the rangers have confirmed a large presence approaching north of the wood's outskirts
>they were informed to keep this information to themselves and not to tell their families
>they knew the risks
>you've ordered the Leaf Berets to run long range recon patrols and mark artillery/airstrike positions
>where you'd get fire support, you don't know, but hopefully soon
>you've also ordered them to set up booby traps in the woods in hopes of slowing them down
>a couple Leaf Berets have died in the line of duty trying to run interference
>their comrades were not allowed to reveal the nature of their deaths to their families
>such is war

>you were there to see a small platoon of goblins hit one of the female rangers with a poison dart
>the squad had no choice but to run away as a larger force was incoming
>the last thing anyone heard was her being brutally raped in the woods
>Kube help me, she looked like Liichen
>she looked like Monika

>you look at all the villagers eating in the communal dining hall, all these families might as well be enjoying their last meal together
>you barely eat your roasted venison and vegetables
>Henning's smoking again
>as the commander it's your prerogative to protect the people under your command
>this is their home, they will most likely fight to the death to defend it
>they will fight
>you will fight
>to the death


>"Ahem! Denizens of Faenen village! I have an important announcement to make."
>"A large horde of orcs and goblins have come from the North and have now penetrated the woods... "
>everyone stopped eating and are looking with wide eyes shocked to hear what's happening
>"... these goblins aim to invade your homes and rape your children! Will you sit idly by while they do that?!" you ask
>most of the men in the audience applaud and to yell out resounding no’s
>"... but do realize that this is no ordinary force. I must be honest with you. They will surely overwhelm us! By my estimations the hoard will find our village next week! We will be spared no quarter, the enemy will not discriminate between men, women, or children. Therefore we must all fight and stand our ground until reinforcements arrive!"
>the audience is looking a lot more worried now
>this human's telling the wood elves to send in their women and children into the frontlines?
>he's mad!

>"I understand how this must sound, but please, you must understand our situation!" you explain
>"There is no escape! These woods will only protect us for a short while if we flee deeper into it. If we flee the children will die of exhaustion, women will stay behind to protect them, and just like that we will all be bogged down!"
>a couple of the women and children start weeping and crying now
>the crowd sounds more and more unconfident
>"And what if we leave the forest?! They will hound us down! Without supplies and by traveling in such a large group we will be slow, and they will send small parties to harass us until only a few of us remain!"


>"So no! Retreat is not a recourse. Our only choice is to stay and fight! You will have to stand our ground and defend your homeland." you continue
>"This fight will be a gruesome one. I'll be honest, most of you will most likely die in the fighting, the children will most likely die too. But if you run you will not stand a chance against the encroaching hoard."
>"They will hound us down and the families will only be slowed down by their children, and then picked off. Our numbers will dwindle until we are all dead. So to any of you who think escape will be your best recourse, you will threaten all the others." you finish

>the crowd is either arguing, weeping, or both
>you know it's a shit thing to do, but convincing these people to stay and fight is really the only option
>you have the advantage of a defensive fight, large hoards are really only effective at encircling groups in the field
>just like Rorick’s Drift, escape is not an option
>you just hope to God or Kube to send help quicker

>the villagers leave the dining hall and return to their families
>they will vote on their choice tomorrow, to either flee or fight
>you wished it didn't have to be democratic, but this is the only way to ensure you have a chance of getting to stay and fight
>if you strong armed your way to force them to defend, you'll have a riot on your hands

A day ago
>"So you're telling me that the only way to even have a chance at winning this is to convince the villagers to stay and fight?" asked Henning
>"How?"
>you take a drag from your mushroom cigarette, "We'll have to use the kids. It's true that the kids will only slow down the families if they flee, those slow families will have to be left behind and picked off by the hoard. This trend will continue until we have no villagers left. Besides, the vehicles only have a certain amount of fuel left so we can't escape far if the fuel runs out."
>you take another drag from your cigarette and exhale before talking


>"So our only chance of survival will be to stay and fight in a defensive entrenched position." you say
>"And getting them to stay and fight is half the battle" says Henning
>"Precisely" you concur
>"And the only way we're going to get them to fight is to convince them it's a shit idea to flee, and instead stay with their kids and fight. The kids stay, the village stays. The more villagers stay the more rounds we can put downrange until help arrives." you say
>Henning lights a cig and starts smoking, "But by Liichen's calculations we're going to run out of ammo within the first wave. How the fuck are we going to last until reinforcements arrive?" asks Henning

>you reply, "We have to provide overwhelming fire and convince them that it's a bad idea to attack us, we have only two belt feds and a couple grenade launchers as force multipliers, so we have to make them think we have enough firepower to last for a long siege; therefore, we must overwhelm the first wave with excessive firepower to make them hesitate." you finish
>"They're goblins but they're still intelligent... " muses Henning
>"... I hope this shit works." says Henning
>he takes out a pink scarf from his pocket and looks at it, rubbing it like a talisman
>"What's that?" you ask
>he smiles, "It was from my daughter. She gave it to me before I deployed to Markaya. It's good luck." he says
>you nod, "I think you'll see her pretty soon Henning"
>Henning doesn't take offense to this, but rather he agrees
>"I think we'll all meet them soon." he says


Present day
>you lay down on your grass bed
>the locals made these for the whole squad
>tomorrow will be the day you will all officially vote and mobilize the militia
>you rub your eyes, tired but not able to sleep
>what would you do Monika?
>a knock could be heard at your cabin door
>"Come in" you say
>Liichen walks in, wearing a tank top and her OD short-shorts
>the oil lantern giving off a yellow-orange light in the dark bedroom

>"Anon, do you need to talk? I know how stressful it can be, and I just want to say I'm here for you." she says
>you look at her face, it's obvious she isn't here to comfort you
>you could see the fear in her eyes
>"Liichen, if you just wanted to talk you could've just said so." you answer
>her eyes start watering
>ah shit here we go again
>she sits at your side of the bed, you sit up to meet her
>you wrap your arm around her just hold her there in your arms
>her sobs being muffled in your chest
>how did she ever become a merc you ask yourself

>"Anon, I don't want anything to happen to you, I'm scared." she says sobbing
>you think back to what Henning said to you a week ago
>you think about Monika telling you to not be anchored by her
>you're all probably going to die soon


>you hold Liichen head in your hands, cupping her cheeks gently
>"A... Anon? What are y... " but she gets cut off by your kiss
>you kiss her gently on her lips, savoring them
>the smell of blackberries and pine permeate the air
>you break off from her
>"Liichen, we're probably not going to live for long. Henning told me that I should spend time with my loved ones."
>Liichen gasps, tears of joy streaming down her eyes
>"Liichen, I'm not afraid anymore, I love you sweetheart." you say in the most tender voice your cigarette voice can manage

>she blushes, but looks down shamefully, "But Anon, I... I can't bear children. I'm sterile, that's why I became a merc, because I couldn't give life. Why would any male, especially such a good one like you want to be my mate?" by the Kube she is self-conscious
>"I don't want to hurt you Anon, I don't want to be like... like her." she says
>"Liichen, sweetheart, I don't care. We'll make it work. Sonja needs a family, we can adopt her as our daughter." you say
>"She is a sweet girl, but... I can't give lif..." you cut her off before she can finish with a kiss on her lips
>"Liichen, we might not see another tomorrow; so let's make it so that the last thing we see is each other." you say
>urasmoothoperator.sade
>you're moving closer to her now, arms wrapped around her tight body
>you're massaging her lithe arms
>you're holding hands
>she thinks about it before giggling
>"Oh Anon, you males are all the same." she giggles through her tears
>"Well I'm only human, and you knife-ears always act like you don't want it." you retort
>she laughs even harder at that, slapping your arm gently
>"Then... then let's make it special, because you're special to me Anon."
>"Liichen, I... I love you. No matter what happens I always will." you say
>she wipes her tears from her eyes, "And I will always be with you Anon, no matter what happens, I'll always love you."


Next night
>the Faenan village militia were mobilized in the village center, the merc HQ
>the militia was organized by platoons and squads
>Platoons 1 and 2 consisted of 30 assorted riflemen per platoon armed with Krauser Karbine M98s with and a couple of officers and specialists armed with .45 cal Tony guns
>the elves with the Tony guns were instructed to keep their weapons on semi-auto only to conserve on ammunition
>the Support Squads consisted of two squads of 5 elves each
>each Support Squad had a Johnning 1819 MGs with 2x 200 round belts each
>they also had a couple Mk 79s in the platoons with a couple HE/WP rounds
>not a lot of ammo in general

>the militia were at parade rest with rifles slung
>they were all dressed in their hunter's deer skins and green vine capes and were wearing canvas bandoleers taken from ammo cans
>they're all looking towards you and the elder up on the stage
>all the mercs are dressed in their combat fatigues and are fully geared up in their battle rattle

>you clear your throat and prepare to address the militia
>"Company! ATTEN-TION!"
>the wood elves snap to attention
>"As you all know, the village is currently under attack by a large, incoming enemy force."
>"The people have spoken, and a majority of you have chosen to stay and fight."
>"It will not be a painless battle, many will die and many more will suffer from their deaths, but if we stand our ground we will win!"
>you're really not sure, but these soldiers need hope dammit
>the village behind the militia are all out in their hunter's garb and bows/spears
>you really do hope this is enough
>"From now on, we will focus more on hand to hand combat drills to conserve ammunition. Those unfit for combat duty will be relegated to support duties and logistics. That is all, I advise you to spend whatever free time you have either practicing and resting up or spent with your families."


Next day
>Grunk is sharpening wooden poles into punji stakes with his machete
>the elves helping him keep eyeing him nervously
>Liichen says that it's because elves and orcs had pretty bad relations on their side of the world
>orcs were notorious for raiding elven villages and raping the men and women
>that's why half-breeds are viewed with such contempt
>you mention that the first time the convoy arrived at the village the elder called Grunk a "halfling" to her

>"Anon, these wood elves only tolerate Grunk because he is part of our squad. But in general orc halflings are viewed as products of rape... "
>"... therefore they're treated badly." says Liichen
>you ask her why she never told this to you
>Liichen shrugs, "You never asked. Besides I'm a lot more open minded, where I'm from the thought of a human male and elf female being together is seen as taboo, but I've grown to not notice these things as much."
>you see Gus, the other merc helping Grunk out with the wooden stakes
>besides Funker, the only other person that seems to be in really good terms with Grunk is Gus
>you give Liichen a quick kiss before you go
>Gus seems to be kind of awkward around Grunk
>sounds like they're trading war stories
>Grunk's telling Gus about his childhood
>"... so then mother pulled out a triple barrel sawn off and blow's the stupid humie's head off!" laughs Grunk
>Gus chuckles, "I don't even remember my mother, I was so young when she died... "
>Grunk stops laughing and gets sober
>"... yeah, she died when I was pretty young too."
>Grunk grips the wooden stake until it creaks
>"... my tribe says she died pretty young. My mother met my father when she was a young huntress. She raided a small village along with her sisters for food and gold. All they found were a bunch of hunting rifles and shotguns, which was a nice find."


>Grunk continues, "She found Dad hiding in the cellar. He was screaming when she started pulling him out. I don't know why, but she took a liking to him." says Grunk
>Gus chuckled when he heard about Grunk's dad screaming when his mother pulled him out of his hiding spot
>"... the tribe was not happy, she was already supposed to have a mate prepared for her, so she had to undertake a trial to prove to the tribe that she had made a good decision for a mate."
>"... the trial nearly killed her, she had to bring back what humies call a Black Grizzly for the war chief. When she dragged it back to the village, she was half dead and heavily scarred."
>"... my mother took about a week to rest up before she and her mate performed the mating ritual. He kept screaming and begging her not to do it, until he gave up and started to enjoy it too." says Grunk as he laughs
>Gus kept quiet and kept peeling away at the wooden stake with his bowie knife
>"... then three months later I was born. There was a raid on my village shortly after and me and Dad along with a couple of the females were taken in as hostages." says Grunk with hatred
>"My surviving tribe mates told me he left me as soon as the guards escorted us to the city, and then my aunts raised me in a slum the humies set up outside of town for us survivors." concluded Grunk
>Gus kept listening until he accidentally cut his finger with his knife
>"shit... I gotta go Grunk, nice talking to ya." says Gus as he left in a hurry over to medical

>"So, Grunk, I'm sorry about your mother" you say as you walk over to Gus's seat
>he looks surprised, "Huh? Oh it's you boy, I didn't notice you walking there."
>you think about what he said to Gus, if his mother mated and conceived him within the first year of the Merge...
>... wouldn't that make him only 10 or 11 years old?
>"Yeah, us orcs age pretty quickly, we die pretty quickly too, but that's just because we're fucking stupid and keep getting into fights all the time."


>then wouldn't that mean that you're older than him? And that you should be calling him "boy" and "son"?
>"Hmm, perhaps Anon, but do you have the balls to do that?" says Grunk, his voice lowering menacingly
>fuck you Grunk, I'm your superior officer here, you think I'm scared of you?
>little underaged shit
>he relents, cracking a small smile, "Alright Anon, alright Lt. Major Anon sir."
>well you didn't have to be that formal
>looks like you earned some respect from him for asserting your dominance

>you pull out your own knife and start helping him with the punji stakes
>there's a nice silence between you two until you decide to break the ice
>you ask him about how his mother looked like
>Grunk stops, narrowing his eyes at you before sighing
>"I don't remember, mother died when I was young." he says
>"I think she had brown hair and golden eyes. Father gave me my black hair." says Grunk
>you relent, saying you were sorry for bringing up a sore subject
>"It's alright Anon; well, now that you mention it, I guess she was beautiful, even by human standards. I remember that my aunts saying how she seduced father at first..." he chuckles
>you decide to ask about his father, you want to know him better after all
>"... father can die a painful coward's death for all I care, he abandoned me, abandoned mother at the village." says Grunk with venom
>woah there, you apologize for bringing it up
>"You do not offend me Anon, but my father's cowardice does. They say he hid when the human mercenaries and militia started to raze our tribe..."
>"...I understand in human culture it is taboo to forcefully mate with another, but even so, he should've protect his child and mate; it is his responsibility as a mate."
>you continue to talk about other things with him while working on the punjis, by the time you're finished it's already afternoon
>you say farewell and head over to the training grounds to check on Henning and the militia


Afternoon, same day
>you walk up to the training grounds where Henning, Funker, and Rat are training the recruits on CQB drills and hand to hand
>there's a 5'10" raven haired fellow there too
>it's Gus, and he's talking to Henning about something away from Funker and Rat
>"... Jessica's a nice name. I was gonna name my son Gerald." said Gus
>"Sorry to mention this, but what happened to your son?" asked Henning
>Gus looked at his cigarette, then said "Those bastards took him away from me."
>Henning looked sorry, "Oh, forget I asked then." as he took another puff from his cig
>as you walk closer you smell the smoke from the cigs
>but they smell off
>not like the ones that Henning usually smokes
>smells like actual tobacco
>Gus offers you one and you accept
>holy shit, that's actually pretty good
>mushroom cigs are nice, but the amount of nicotine content for the amount of smoke it generates pales in comparison to actual tobacco
>and you don't smoke for the flavor, just the nicotine


>you ask Henning about how the training goes, he says about as good as elves can get
>"These guys are pretty good when it comes to shooting, but as for things like hand to hand, they're mediocre." says Henning
>"They'll have to get good, or else we'll all die." interjects Funker as he walks up with Rat
>"Say, what's the plan of attack here when the gobbies arrive? I haven't been too keen on asking." asked Rat
>you ponder about the plans drawn up by you and Henning


>Henning begins to go over the recon report with a cigarette dangling from his mouth
>"Alright, so the Leaf Berets have reported back in with the following intel:"
>"... enemies are approaching due North of our current defenses...
>"... enemy numbers are approximately 5,000 strong, including couple hundred orc 'commanders' and ten 30 foot tall ogres wearing what appears to be jury rigged steel armor from car doors... "
>"... they appear to demonstrate poor marksmanship, but combined with the orcs leading them in lines of fire, we're going to have problems..."
>"... the rangers have also reported that the enemy has encircled the woods and the surrounding areas with goblin/orc patrols..."
>"... they've also begun to encroach deeper into the woods and are headed towards our position, estimated time of arrival is within one day. Squad Alfnae have volunteered to stay behind and serve as a distraction..."

>you sigh and facepalm, seems like it's hopeless
>Henning sees this and responds, "... it's not all doom and gloom sir, we have a couple advantages."
>you perk your ears
>"... the terrain and environment is too dense for them to directly assault us with all their forces, that combined with recent rains, have caused them to become bogged down so much so that they can't get their ogres over quickly..."
>"... therefore the enemy's forced to send in smaller units, and it'll take time even for small units to navigate this terrain on foot."
>"Which will give us time to prepare." you say
>"... Precisely sir, we've already finished fortifying our defenses, there are now two defense line trenches and we've managed to clear the forest back from the village perimeter another 100 meters to the north..."
>you consider the defenses
>two lines of defensive trenches, 100 meters of forest cleared out around the perimeter in south, west, and east
>the northern woods have been chopped down another 100 meters for 200 meters of clear lanes of fire for the militia


>"... we've also trained another 40 riflemen, they don't have target practice time, but we've taught them the fundamentals, hopefully it'll be enough." says Henning
>the both of you are quiet in the war tent
>"Anon, have you... made up with Liichen yet?" he asked
>"Yeah Henning, I did." you respond
>"Good..." he says
>he continues, "I'm gonna get the men ready, from this hour forward, all combatants will be living and shitting in the trenches..."
>''... you know what to do if they overrun us, right Anon?" he says before getting out of the tent
>you look down at your Hi-Mag
>yeah Henning, you know what to do

Midnight, your cabin
>you're sitting in bed, you know you should be in the trenches with the militia, but you want it just one last time
>"Anon, I'm coming in" says Liichen
>you turn to look at the entrance, it opens to reveal Liichen wearing her service shirt and cargo pants
>"I'm surprised you packed them with you Liichen, on a mission of all places..." you remarked
>"Are you complaining Anon?" she says as she begins slipping off her fatigues

>her pants and shirt come off, showing off her tight body
>the shirt slides off her narrow shoulders, revealing her lacy black bra on her C-cups
>the pants slip down showing her nice thick thighs
>the top of her lacy black stockings slightly constricting the top of her soft yet strong thighs, giving off a slight muffin top effect
>a lock of her red hair covers her left eye, while she brushes the hair of her right side behind her elven ears
>"Let's make this the best night of our lives Anon."


>wait wait wait, don't we need protection?
>"Silly, I'm sterile remember?" says Liichen
>you can see a tinge of sadness in her eyes
>ah shit
>you apologize to the elf girl, hoping you didn't shrekt the mood
>"It's fine Anon, it just means we don't have to use that disgusting latex." she says

>Liichen straddles you, her lacy black panties leaving wet streaks on your stomach
>smells like grandma's blackberry jam
>she leans in to kiss you on your chest, working up to your collarbones
>she bites down lightly, not enough to break skin, but just enough to leave a hickey
>you wince in pain
>but it feels so good
>she giggles as you wince, enjoying the pain she is dishing out
>"Already tapping out Anon? We're just getting started." she whispers in a husky voice
>you take a deep gulp of air
>"Oh? Well what's this soldier? Did I give you the order to fix bayonets?" she asks
>your dick is harder than the Atlantic Wall at this point, and her incessant grinding isn't helping
>like her snail trails on your stomach, your dick is staining her abs through your underwear
>she takes it in her hands and gives it a few strokes, earning a moan from you in response
>she smiles devilishly, and takes off her lace panties
>"Better bite the pillow baby, I'm taking you in." she says, breath on her throat

>your dick perforates her slowly, first the tip of the spear and then the rest
>Oh Kube, oh God, oh Yesus und Maria this is wunderbar
>she bites her lips, her eyes closed
>you reach up and stroke her head
>your hands run across her soft, red hair, eventually reaching her ears
>you start to slowly massage them
>her eyes go as wide as a virgin in a cave of goblins
>she muffles her moans by biting into her lower lip even harder
>it starts bleeding
>worried, you start asking her if she's okay
>she full on pashes you on your lips instead, mixing her blood and each other's saliva
>you hope she's clean


>it kept going for what seemed like an eternity
>in reality it was like 15 minutes
>the first time she came was within the first 5 minutes of her riding you
>seems like your fingers worked wonders on her ears, because now they're completely flushed red
>her emerald green eyes kept staring into yours for what seemed like eons
>when she finally came, you felt her passage clamp down hard on your dick, like a hot, wet vice
>she screamed into your shoulders, biting down hard
>ouch
>she kept whimpering and moaning softly while humping your dick with her hips
>you kept stroking her hair and face

>"Hahh... Hahhh..... Haanon... Anon, did you..." she asks out of breath
>"D.. Diid... Did that feel good sweety?"
>you laid there underneath her somewhat pent up
>you hadn't cum yet
>she dips her fingers down there while you're still inside her and takes some of her "fluids"
>her fingers are coated with her clear, stringy nectar
>smells strongly of blackberries, with a hint of lavender
>she gets a taste of her fingers and proceeds to kiss you passionately
>holy shit it does taste like blackberries, but tangier
>all of a sudden a sudden vigor overtakes you as you grab her by her shoulders and flip yourselves over each other
>now she's on the bottom and you're on top

>she is shocked, her auburn red hair is splayed over the pillow in soft strands
>her chest is heaving in exertion and anticipation
>the smell of blackberries fill the room as you pull out
>she lets out a small whimper as you do so, but you quickly silence her with your finger on her lips
>she starts to suckle on your trigger finger
>freudianslip.bangbang
>yfw


>her eyes light up as she realizes what they taste like
>it's her own nectar
>you swear you can hear her getting wetter down there
>"Anon, please, I want you to feel good too." she says brushing her hand on your face
>you kiss her and plunge deep into her soft, yielding abyss
>she moans and arches her back and head
>you start giving her nips on her clavicle and neck
>her chest heaves, jiggling her C cups
>she looks down on you only to meet your determined steely eyes with her emerald greens
>you stare into each other's eyes while you go inside and out of her

>a few minutes later she starts to breathe faster
>she's got you in a mating press, her soft yet incredibly strong thighs wrap around your ass
>you weren't planning on going anywhere anyways
>"AHHH.... Anon, Anon, don't stop baby, fill me up with your seed." she moans out
>well that did it for you
>you can feel something deep inside your coming up
>the caveman side of your brain is surfacing again
>you roar as you dump your contents inside her
>her eyes go wild, rolling back into her head as you empty your gonads into her
>Goddamn that feels good
>her hole milks your dick for all it's worth
>you collapse on top of her, tapped out
>she turns over to you, staring into your eyes

>you both face towards each other
>covered in sweat and post coital bliss
>"Liichen... we'll be alright baby. We'll make it out alright." you say
>"I'll always be with you Anon."
>you cuddle up to each other, and slowly you both fall asleep.


>"KEEP UP THE FUCKING FIRE!!! DON'T LET THEM BREACH THE LINE!!!" you yell out
>you hear a thunk next to you and the next thing you know there's bits and pieces of you thrown around
>you're here
>you're there
>you're everywhere
>you're just a stump of a man, like that guy in that book
>what's the name again?
>oh yeah, "Lenny Get Your Gun"

>you can't move
>there's thick acrid smoke all over the field
>there's a large shape coming up with a whole horde of goblins
>you hear Liichen and Sonja yelling out your name in pain
>the goblins are tearing their clothes apart and raping them
>"ANNNONNN HEEELP!!! DADDY HELP M..."
>Sonja's voice is cut off as Grunk takes his machete and slits her throat
>he's got a wicked smile on his face as he drinks the blood from her limp body
>Liichen's lifeless eyes stare into yours as she convulses from the repeated assault on her orifices
>"You left me to die Anon. Why did you leave me to die you useless piece of shit?" says a familiar voice
>there stood above you is the wendigo
>its face is Monika's
>her face was so bloody and cut you barely recognized her

>you laid there as a stump, stunned
>"I.... I tried to save you Monika." you say
>"You pathetic piece of shit, you can't save anything" says Monika as she points to the village
>it's a Markayan village on fire
>the same one Monika died in
>all the villagers are on fire
>it's the wood elves
>the young Markayan soldier you killed stares at you
>he’s holding onto his severed limbs
>maggots pouring out of his bullet wounds that you shot in
>the villagers stare at you
>all their eyes are staring at you as the flesh burns off their body
>"Did YOU try to save them, you fucking butcher?" says the creature
>the napalm gets closer
>you open your mouth to scream but nothing comes out
>Liichen and Sonja's bodies are on fire
>the flames reach you and you finally scream


>"ANON! ANON! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" says distressed a feminine voice
>you wake up from the nightmare, sweat streaking down your face and body
>the kerosene lamp on your bedside is on, bathing you and Liichen's half-naked body in its warm glow
>she's on the verge of tears, still wearing her lingerie, and shaking you
>there's sweat and tears running down your face as your heart races out of your chest

>the window is still dark
>"Anon? Are you ok sweety?"
>Liichen's wiping the sweat away from your forehead
>"Maybe we shouldn't have done it tonight, if I knew it would bring up those bad memories and nightmares..."
>you tell her it's okay
>"I'm here for you Anon, you’re okay Anon..."
>she holds you tight against her chest, burying you in her bosom
>you fall back into a dreamless black sleep
>you wake up to the banging of your cabin door
>you instinctively pull the Hi-Mag from under your pillow and aim at the door
>Liichen wakes up, her hair all over her face, her ears droopy from grogginess
>you walk up to the door and open it apprehensively
>it's fucking Rat
>"An... oh shit, uh Henning said to send for you, so get dressed quickly and get your battle loadout in check." says Rat
>"... It's time."
>you close the door and look back at Liichen
>she's still half naked in her lacy black lingerie on your bed, covering herself in your sheets
>you walk over to the bed and hold her hands
>you both stare into each other's eyes before embracing each other
>as if it's going to be your last…


Northern Faenen Village Defensive Trenches, Zero Dark
>Funker and Henning sat in a wooden pillbox
>the bulk of the elven militiamen are there, huddled close to their rifles and food
>they're eating dried venison and roasted vegetables wrapped in small blankets
>these must have been wrapped by their wives and daughters
>or mothers and sisters
>some of the younger ones are crying
>such is the nature of war

>you low run up to the northern trench without a source of light
>the moon is covered by overcast
>Henning instituted a light ban to mask the village's position
>goblins have pretty decent night vision too after all
>that's what the defenders are counting on
>Henning's wearing his full woodland battle fatigues and black 1st Valkserm Jagters, with his daughter's pink scarf wrapped around his neck for luck despite the hot, humid summer weather
>his leather combat gloved hands gripping the green handguard of his Geweer-3 tightly
>Funker's wearing his full combat kit, this time ditching his A-frame assault pack for the long range radio pack
>he's fiddling with the radio, trying to adjust the antenna to get it to work, but only static can be heard through the headset
>"Dammit" says Funker
>you adjust your patrol cap and talk with Henning
>"Are they attacking Daniel?" you ask
>Henning says, "No, Anon, but Grunk says he can smell them."
>your nose starts tingling
>it smells like if blood, shit, piss, and all sorts of horrific bodily fluids that festered in a cesspool had gained legs and became ambulatory was coming towards the village
>an elf says, "Sir, I can't see them" in broken Nortelandish
>"Anon, cover your eyes when I give the signal."
>Henning raises a finger, his grey eyes trained at the dark field ahead
>"Wait for it..." he says
>a sudden scream from the field pierced the silent, pitch black night
>Henning flips the safety on his Geweer-3 off and yells...
>"ALL UNITS OPEN FIRE!!!!!" at the top of his lungs, before unloading his rifle into the dark


>a series of "thump" sounds can be heard along the trench as sudden, blinding arcs of white lights illuminate the darkness
>the lights descend upon the ground, setting the combustible Moss Cotton on fire as the white phosphorous rounds make contact with the highly combustible moss
>the whole line of goblins burn up as the fire spreads, engulfing the northern killzone in a yellow and white blaze
>the screams of burning goblins goes uninterrupted, as the first line of defensive traps go off
>the Spikegrass artifacts catch on fire, setting the goblin line ablaze
>the elves who aren't used to seeing fire being used as such a horrific weapon vomit their homemade dinners
>the smell of burnt flesh and shit waft over to the trenches causing more elves to vomit
>you and Henning are used to the smell of burnt flesh by now
>the whole line fires at the remaining stragglers that made it past the firewall
>the remaining goblins stand behind the fire, apprehensive of what to do

>looks like they're stalled for now, but there goes the first ace up your sleeve
>hopefully you can stall them long enough for the curtain call
>you ask Funker how long it'll take for the final curtain
>Funker only looks up from his headset, shaking his head as static can be vaguely heard
>shit

>the line fires a couple volleys to stem the numbers of goblins, but more take the place of their fallen comrades
>the fire kept going for half an hour, during that time several waves of goblins charged through
>they didn't make it far until the fire burned their leg muscles to a singe
>the elves at this point have stopped vomiting, their resolve steeled with each flaming goblin as they cross the yellow fiery crucible of combustible Spikegrass
>at this point the moon has come out, revealing a force of 1,000 goblins plus several orc commissars
>you can see these ones don't have rifles, only shitty spears and machetes
>but the fire is waning, and their numbers only grow as time comes


>Henning's smoking his cigarette
>"I thought you made a promise to your daughter" you say pointing to his cigarette
>Henning smiles at you, his greenish-gray eyes glinting in the lit embers of his cig
>"I'm not planning on dying so soon Anon." he says
>the fire is slowly waning, the goblins get ready with their spears and machetes
>they charge
>you aim at the closest target, a fat orc carrying a thick wooden club with train track spikes driven through
>goodnight you fat bastard
>the .308 round exit from your Mk.14 and hits its mark at the orc's center of mass
>the whole line erupts in gun fire as the field of fire erupts into a blur of red tracers
>the militia fire independently, spewing 8.2mm Krauser rounds from their bolt actions as fast as they could
>even the greenest recruits have no difficulty hitting their targets now with the target rich environment
>the goblins close in with the first defensive line
>150 meters
>125 meters

>they trample over the bodies of the dying and the fallen
>their cries for help trampled by the war cries of the living
>it's killed or be killed
>Yesus und Maria it's like that movie "Buntu"
>4,000 Buntu warriors laid siege to a small Saxonite army unit’s field hospital on Rorick's Farm
>150 men armed with nothing but rolling block rifles against three days of non-stop human wave sieges
>ammunition running low
>no reinforcements, no Winged cavalrymen coming down from the mountainsides



>the riflemen reload
>now the Tonygunners are firing their .45 SMGs into the oncoming crowd
>the small goblins are no match for glorious .45 Automatic Mustang Pistol
>muh stoppin powah
>but the larger orcs would take a half a mag to kill
>these fuckers are persistent, but the combined firepower has made them all very wary of the defensive line
>suddenly white phosphorous rounds light up to the west
>they're probing our defenses
>automatic gunfire can be heard as Grunk unloads his Johnning 1819 belt fed into the oncoming crowd
>but the WP really does help with riot control
>inb4 muh warcrime
>the Genevieve Convention only applies to humans, sorry gobbies
>Gus's OSG40 (STG58) barks in the night, as several goblins make it through the Grunk's MG fire
>looks like Grunk's focusing his firepower on killing the orcs
>decapitate their field leadership, nice
>you wonder how long until the goblins wisen up and start to protect their commanders
>the firing stops

Hours later
>the sun is just starting to rise from the east
>but the woods still lay in mostly darkness
>the goblins have retreated to the woods and are probably regrouping for a larger push
>grenadiers are ordered to load HE and WP rounds, and if necessary, thermite
>a thick fog has settled into the killing field
>ammo checks are performed, it looks like there's still enough ammo to top everyone off
>for now
>and it's only been 6 hour into the siege
>you hope to Kube those tanks arrive
>Funker reports that the fog has made radio reception even worse
>this combined with the woods being around 100 meters under sea level means that the radio will spit out static at best


>probing attacks were launched before dawn at the south and east
>the militia men are tired
>Liichen is watching over the children at the community hall with all the women and the old
>Sonja is helping out militia by giving out food and water to the troops
>they enjoy her presence, some of them too much
>elves love cute blondes, even if she is heavily scarred
>you personally want to strangle each and every one of them for trying to lewd your daughterfu, but the men must maintain their morale
>hell you did the same before you met Monika while in country in Markaya

>the sun is finally up, but the fog is still not cleared, the men grow shiftier
>the smell of cordite and the familiar stench of goblins draw closer
>Henning orders everyone to aim at torso level and perform recon by fire
>everyone fires a single round into the mist
>suddenly a thunderous war cry of a thousand goblins and orcs shatter the calm morning fog
>loud explosions followed by billowing clouds of acrid black smoke billow through the fog
>the sandbag and elf next to you explodes into a fine mist and collapses
>a large .52 caliber cavity tore right through his chest
>the young elf lay choking on his own pieces of lung and blood
>"OH SHIT! HIT THE DECK AND POUR EVERYTHING YOU HAVE INTO THOSE FUCKERS YOU GODDAMN FNGS!!!" you yell
>"FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!"
>all of the northern trenches erupt as muzzle flashes light up the fog
>the sounds of dying elves and goblins can be heard as black smoke once again blanket the fog
>shit this is not good
>all over the village perimeter black smoke erupts from the fog
>oh shit

>the roars of Krausers, Tony guns, and Johnning MGs can be heard through out the village
>a young militia man cowers in fear in his foxhole
>his once clean hunting cloak showered with the blood and bone fragments of his comrades
>another elf is in a fetal position in the trench, covering his ears from the gun fire
>there's no doubt about it now
>we are definitely in deep shit


>morale is at an all time low
>fuck it
>"ALL GRENADIERS! SHAKE AND BAKE!!! GET READY FOR A CLOSE RANGE VOLLEY!" you yell out
>the mercs around you stare at you like you're a mad man
>when you're surrounded you have to use everything like a madman
>the elves affix rifle grenade adapters to their Krauser M98s and load thermite grenades
>the Mk.79ers load HE
>the goblin line is now advancing into a running charge, they're closing in now
>the elf militia are firing wildly, trying their best not to panic
>whenever one is killed the next one runs up from behind and closes the gap
>one solitary thought ran into everyone's minds
>they're not going to stop until we're all dead

>"FIRE!!!!!"
>a slew of thumps are heard through out the line as the grenadiers fire their shake and bake rounds
>since they have no mortars this is the best they're going to get
>everyone ducks under the trenches and bunkers
>the whole perimeter of the village lights up in a flaming red hot inferno
>the goblins explode as their munitions cook off, turning the goblin riflemen into minced meat
>facing another defeat, the GREENFOR retreats into the morning fog, amidst withering gunfire from the trenches
>just in time too, as the last riflemen with ammo fires his last round

25 hours later
>the village women go into the trenches to visit their brothers, fathers, and sons
>most rejoice to find their loved ones still alive and kicking
>unfortunately some of civilians arrived to the trenches, only to find their squadmates unable to look them in the eye
>the only mark of their fallen brethren's existence?
>a corpse with their blood soaked green hunter's cloaks draped over
>a middle aged looking elf woman dropped to her knees and started crying at the feet of one of her dead son's squadmates
>he could only stay silent and hold her gently
>the youngest of the FNGS now look like they have an old man's heart
>they're eyes unblinking from the sleep deprivation and the horror they’ve witnessed


Approx. 31st hour since first wave, 0659
>"Anon?" says a familiar voice
>you turn around to see Liichen
>her eyes are sunken and tired looking
>she runs over to you and hug you
>you return the embrace with a bear hug
>even after 31 hours of work she still smells like lavender
>"Anon, when I saw those bodies I thought you'd be one of them." she whispers softly
>you're not planning on dying just yet
>you ask her about Sonja
>she says that she's been helping with the defensive line at the west trench
>passing ammo to Grunk and the militia
>Liichen said she got a couple kills too
>she's tired, so she's sleeping at the community hall with the other women and children
>Liichen asks if you're alright
>you respond, pointing to the dead elf lying draped under his cloak next to your feet
>"I'll organize a unit to evacuate the wounded and dead, you can count on us Anon." she says
>you give her a quick kiss, saying she needs to get working again
>"Oh! Before I forget Anon, here's some roast rabbit, I know how boring those rations get..."
>the rabbit was herbed and seasoned perfectly
>she also cooked it with dried chili peppers just like you liked

>you group up with Henning at HQ
>he's got a canteen cup of hot water
>"I'm making coffee Anon, care to join me?" he asked
>sure, you could use some caffeine
>in return you take out a schokola bar ration
>Henning looked at the chocolate bar and looked down downtrodden
>"Private Lentz would've given you his left nut for that bar of schokola..." he says
>you sit down as he pours hot coffee into your canteen cup
>you both sit together in the command tent
>you've never heard of the village this quiet before
>usually by this time the elves are already awake and doing chores around the village
>the only sounds are the sounds of the wounded and quiet chattering amongst the militiamen


>you ask Henning how he's holding out, about casualty numbers
>"Since we're in entrenched positions, combat casualties are actually pretty low, only 10, but every death means one less rifle."
>you ask what happened to the wounded
>"... the women and the old are helping out with medical care, but none of us were medics, they all died in the convoy.”
>"... but, it's still better than nothing, they at least know about sterile procedure."

>you mention that this isn't the first time he's been surrounded by a larger enemy force
>you two begin trading war stories
>when you mention Monika he offers his condolences
>then you mention what he meant all those days ago, when you were still in the truck, what he meant when he said he wasn't proud of his service
>Henning says, "Markaya was not a conventional war Anon, we had to fight an insurgency, as you know that means that a lot of civilians had to be killed as a result."
>"... that's what I'm not proud of. I'm sure that you've got things you regret doing too." he says
>he's right, there was, but it's not something that people are likely to forgive you for doing

>shaking off the drowsiness, you ask what led him and his men to survive for two months in Ia Draco valley with practically no support
>he shrugs, "Sheer willpower, and the thought that we all still have something to live for waiting for us back home..."
>you think about Liichen and Sonja
>you wish you could see Sonja, but she must be tired
>"... it wasn't anything special, the enemy were thinking the same thing too, but I guess we wanted to live more than they did..."
>"... these guys are fucking goblins, they don't have anything to wait for them back home, they're just animals looking for their next meal..."
>"... and if you ask me, that's the strongest force multiplier we have over those fuckers, we will make it through this Anon." he says
>you both finish your coffees and the bar of schokola


1200
>you only got 5 hours of sleep in, but it's better than nothing
>you get up from your bed roll in a cold sweat, the other militia men around you are startled awake
>you had that nightmare again
>you don't feel like sleeping, so you roll up your sleeping roll and prep for a cup of coffee
>the sun is up in full force, and the damage can be seen in full view
>you're counting at least 1,000 dead gobbies and orcs
>so just 4,000 more
>the ammo situation is starting to get dire
>we're down to about 2,000 rounds for the rifles, a box of ammo for the Tony guns, and 10 belts left for the Johnnings
>grenades are running low
>it's also been too quiet, no probing attacks, no noise, nothing
>you hope to God Funker got the radio working
>he's slumped over the radio, sleeping fitfully

>you decide that this is a better time than any to check up on Liichen and Sonja
>you open the door to the community hall where all the villagers are hiding in
>you see boiling cauldrons of food, a couple wounded
>sounds like children are crying
>that brings back bad memories
>you look around for Liichen, only to see a familiar blonde tending to a wounded militiaman
>Sonja has her bubba'd Krauser slung over and is helping the soldier eat some kind of porridge
>she's gotten much stronger in these past two weeks
>you remember how weak she was when you first found her in that dank crawl space
>she's got her remaining hair tied into a ponytail

>you walk up behind her
>she instinctively reaches for her shoulder mounted bowie knife
>Rat and Funker trained her well
>"OH! It's you Anon."
>the both of you stand there for a couple seconds before she started to tear up
>she jumps onto you
>in her small voice she asked why you didn't visit her for so long
>you apologize to her, saying that you wanted her to be rested up
>she sniffs and says how much she missed you
>you promise her you're not going to die just yet
>she giggles like a little girl, brushing her hair over her ears
>is she blushing?


>you ask her where Liichen is
>she snaps out of her daydreaming and points over to a leaf bed at the very end of the building
>is it just you or is Sonja getting kinda grabby with you lately?

>you find Liichen sleeping in a leaf cot, cuddling a pillow
>you lay down by her side and play with her hair
>you notice her moving around a lot in her sleep
>her eyes flutter open
>she sits up and holds your hand
>"Anon, I had a nightmare." she says
>you ask her what's wrong
>she starts to weep a little, "I had a dream that I was happy with another male."
>she looks down in shame, trying to hold back her tears
>oh Liichen, you're like a little baby
>you laugh, loudly enough that people from the triage unit start staring at you
>Liichen looks at you pissed
>"What the hell Anon?! I just said I had a nightmare and that's all you have to s..."
>you cut her off with your finger on her lips
>you ask her if she loves you
>"What kind of question is that Anon? Of course I love you." she says pouting
>good lord she is cute when flustered
>you tell her it's all good then, and give her a kiss on her lips
>she's flustered, but she returns it
>oh shit you smell blackberries

1700 hours, Community hall
>the both of you wake up in her cot, the both of your fully clothed
>you check your watch, you slept for another 5 hours
>Liichen's got you like you're a teddy bear
>her soft breathing is so cute
>all of a sudden, the privacy curtain opens up, and Sonja walks in
>she looks surprised, like a kid who caught their parents doing it
>well you did do it with her, you were just really quiet about it
>Sonja's blushing furiously now, "Uhh... uhh... Lii, you're taking over now, I need to get some sleep."
>Liichen wakes up, her undone hair a mess
>she smiles at Sonja, "Thanks sweety, I'll be right there."
>she puts on her low boots and redoes her gamaschen
>Sonja looks at her jealously as Liichen gives you a quick peck on your cheeks



1835 hours, 37th hour since initial wave
>Funker and Rat are cooking their ration cans on esbit stoves
>looks like Combat Ration Type 1 with beef stew and rehydrated rice
>they wave at you while eating, you'll let them talk with each other

>the entrenchment order is still in effect until a full 72 hours of no enemy contact has been established
>there are militiamen trading cans of rations with each other
>morale is higher than before at least
>visiting the west trench you find Grunk and Gus having dinner together
>Grunk's having at least 3 boxes of Type 1 rations
>Gus is smoking tobacco
>looks like they're both getting along just fine
>they're even laughing at each other's jokes
>you've gotta remember to buy real tobacco the next time you visit the East Coast

>you return to the CP to find Henning going over a recon report
>the rangers report that GREENFOR have set up a kazerne about two miles north of the village
>they say that it's massive
>strangely enough they're pretty quiet for a couple thousand goblins and orcs
>they also report a lack of game in the woods
>they're either scared away by the gunfire or the GREENFOR have hunted them to small numbers
>the villagers ain't gonna like that

>you return to your northern trench, saying hi to the elves
>morale is high, but there is a tenable tension in the air
>the greenest FNGs appear to look like old men, with mud and gunpowder caking their faces
>you can barely recognize them anymore from those fresh faced recruits two weeks ago
>maybe the enemy are going to retreat?
>that's wishful thinking, but you've fought against goblin raiders before when you served as a caravan guard, and you know they won't stop unless they have a very compelling reason


Zero hour, 43 hours since initial siege
>the men are taking shifts staying up and keeping watch
>a strict no fire policy has been enacted to deny the enemy a source of light to aid in their night vision
>the men hear shifting from the field
>OH GOD THAT'S A LOT OF THEM
>a line of at least a thousand goblins have formed
>all of them unarmed
>what are they playing at?
>you order the men to fire
>after half an hour of non-stop firing, all the goblins have been eliminated
>the militia cheer and raise their arms to the air, but something isn't right
>why did they form such a perfect line?
>why were they not charging and just standing in the line of fire
>the mass of dead goblins have now formed a massive pile of bodies about 100 yards from the defensive line

0500 hour, 48 hours since initial contact
>when the sun started to rise the men see it
>another mass of goblins with breechloaders and muskets
>the men fire into the crowd, mowing down a couple dozen of the goblins
>but then they approach the mass of dead goblins and take cover behind them
>good God they've learned to take cover
>the goblin line immediately return fire on the north trench, inflicting massive casualties
>three men go down, clutching their massive wounds and screaming in agony
>shit this is bad
>the militia are now pinned by a heavy indirect fire and are pinned in their trenches
>you and the mercs are the only ones who are brave enough to pop out and return fire
>this is bad
>but you expected that this might happen


>you give the order to use the remaining grenades
>the grenadiers opened up with their rifle grenades and Mk.79s
>the enemy firing line are blown to bits and pieces while the militia all open fire on the enemy
>rapid firing can be heard as Grunk comes up with his MG and lights up enemy positions
>the goblins then begin to charge
>men all over the line are starting to run out of ammo
>ah shit here we go
>this is getting dire
>fuck it

>"ALL UNITS! FIX BAYONETS!" you yell out
>the men all turn to look at you like you're crazy
>they retrieve their bayonets and mount them on their Krausers
>the goblins draw closer
>the ground shook with the force of a thousand feet as the orcs and goblins charge into your lines
>this is it
>moment of truth

>goblins ram into the trenches, the elves are fighting back with their rifles and bayonets
>an elf militiaman bashes in the skull of one of the goblins with the stock of his rifle before he gets slashed in the back with a machete
>"RETREAT TO THE SECOND LINE!!!" you yell out as you fire on full auto with your Mk14
>the defensive line retreats to the secondary trench
>only 50 meters now
>most of the men have made it, some have not
>you run into the second trench into a wooden pillbox
>Henning and his Geweer-3 kneels besides you, giving you a nod
>you retrieve a whistle from your pocket
>and blow sharply


>the women and children of Faenen woods rise from the trench with bows and rifles drawn
>the men get into two ranks in front of the trench and kneel
>a couple hundred arrows are unleashed at the sea of green
>the first row falls
>"FRONT RANK! PRESENT ARMS!" you yell
>"AIM! FIRE!"
>the men of the first row fire rapidly into the slowing tide of goblins, emptying their clips
>"RELOAD!"
>"REAR RANK FORWARD!"
>"AIM! FIRE"
>"FRONT RANK! FIRE!"
>a thunderous cacophony of gunfire rings through the line as the men empty their 5 rounds into the crowd of retreating goblins
>"REAR RANK! FIRE!"
>the rear rank fire until they run out
>the goblins are running over each other now to retreat
>Henning fixes the bayonet on his Geweer-3 and stands up
>"ON ME! CHAAARRGGEEE!!!!!!" as he runs after the retreated goblins, firing his Geweer-3 as he runs after the retreating horde
>the men rise up and charge with him
>the shoot and stab at any remaining goblin
>one of the FNGs has a particularly bloodthirsty look on his face after tasting goblin blood
>the militia continue to charge after the goblins until they have retaken the first trench
>shooting with whatever remaining ammo as they go
>then the woods are quiet again
>no sounds, just, silence
>you collapse in fatigue as the adrenaline wears out from your system


0612 hours, approx. 49 hours since initial siege
>you wake up to a wet, cool feeling on your forehead
>"Oh thank the Gods he's coming to."
>you see Liichen's face scrunched up into worry as she smooths your hair
>all the mercs are in the community hall hovering over your bed in worry
>when Funker sees that you're awake he breathes a sigh of relief and gets outside of the privacy curtain
>"EVERYONE! THE COMMANDER IS OKAY!"
>no ones cheers, but rather what can be described as a collective sigh of relief can be heard from the village
>Sonja runs over and hugs you tightly
>holy shit she's gotten stronger
>you kiss her on the cheeks and wipe away her tears
>"Dammit Anon! I thought I lost you!" she says recomposing her self
>"I said I didn't plan on dying any time soon right?" you state sarcastically
>she punches you on your shoulder
>Grunk pats you on the back
>"That was a fine job War Chief! The way you charged up there was awe inspiring! HAHAHA!" he says heartily
>you tell him that Henning was the first to charge in, not you
>"Still, it's a moral booster for the men to see their commander take the lead like that. Wanna cig boss?" asked Gus
>you accept, taking your Rippo out and taking in the rich East Coast tobacco
>Liichen frowns, "Anon, I don't think you should be smoking like this."
>aww Liichen, it's fine

>After some time in the bed with Liichen and Sonja you head out to survey the men
>a couple of them had died when the melee happened
>they were buried near a sapling tree near the town center
>in time the grave sites would become a park known as "Heroes' Way"
>but that wouldn't come until 10 to 20 years later
>right now the threat of the goblin army still persists


>Henning is sitting in the CP tent
>there's a ration can turned ashtray nearby
>he's chainsmoking
>"You know Henning, at this rate you'll die before the gobbies get you." you say
>he smirks and says, "... only person who can kill me is myself."
>"... we're down to critically low amounts of ammo. We have a few belts of ammo left for the MGs, no more ammo for the Tony guns.”
>the both of you sit in the smoke saturated CP tent, until you break the silence
>"How much ammo left?" you ask
>Henning takes a deep toke
>"... 500 rounds left." he says
>you looks out the tent to see the men enjoying time with their families
>mates hugging each other and enjoying each other's presence
>fathers embracing their children
>their blood is on your hands
>"Good news is that Funker managed to get a signal to the "Specters", they'll be on station soon, but we don't know how long it'll take for them to get here" says Henning
>you respond, "Not soon enough."
>you see the elves and the militia mingling
>everyone's happy that they were able to repel such a large enemy force
>you see Liichen braiding Sonja's shoulder length blonde hair and gossiping
>you stand atop a mountain of graves
>you can feel their eyes piercing your soul
>the path to hell is paved with good intentions
>you wonder which level of hell you're going to


1100 hours, 72 hours since initial siege
>the gobbies haven't attacked for a day now
>you don't know what they're planning, but it's given the men time to clear out the bodies as best as possible
>the men have made peace with their loved ones
>and their loved ones are busy making peace with each other
>you, Liichen, and Sonja spend one more day together before all hell breaks loose
>after today, nothing will ever be the same ever again

>Funker is banging on the radio again
>"FUCK SHIT GODDAMMIT WORK YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!" he yells in frustration
>you calm him down
>He calms down, "Goddammit Anon, I'm a fucking failure. First I break the radio during the ambush, and now I can't get it to work."
>you tell him that it's not your fault that the radio can't get a signal under sea level
>"Anon, when I smacked the radio all those weeks ago I fucked up the antennae too." he says, dejected
>what he said sinks in to you
>for some reason you feel anger boiling over
>you punch him in the face

>Funker falls over, clutching his face in shock
>you berate him with all the profanities you can manage
>he just lays there on the ground holding his bruised face
>his face is dark, really dark
>"I know I screwed up Anon, I'm sorry, if I wasn't such a hothead, I..."
>Funker steps out of the tent, "Excuse me, Commander."
>you stand in the comms tent, chest heaving
>now you feel like shit

>after a couple minutes you simmer down and find him outside the tent
>you apologize to Funker, saying it's alright, that he didn't mean to
>he shrugs, "No use apologizing Commander, you did what you did for a good reason. We can only live with the consequences now."
>he goes back into the tent
>goddammit Anon


>Sonja comes into you cabin
>"Anon? Can I come in?" she asks
>she's wearing Liichen's fatigues and boots
>"Of course! Come in sweety."
>she sits down by your bed
>"Anon, when you collapsed that other day, I thought I'd lost you." she said
>"Oh sweety, I'm no..."
>but her crying cuts you off
>you rush over to comfort her
>"Hey, I'm here now aren't I? We've made it this far already, we'll make it even further."
>"Anon, you saved my life, I haven't even repaid you yet. I don't want you to die Anon." she says
>you begin to say how you love her too
>but then her face draws closer to yours
>wut

>"Anon, I love you." she says, making full eye contact with you
>her hand is touching your face, running along your brow scar
>"Sonja..." but she cuts you off
>she leans in, her hands rested on your chest as she comes in for a kiss
>"Stop!" you push her off of you
>she stops, recoiling in fear
>"Do... do you hate me Anon?" she asks, crying
>goddammit, women and their tears
>you cuddle up to her and begin talking softly to her
>"Sonja, I DO love you, just, not like that."
>she stares at you, rubbing the burn scars on her head
>"Sonja, you're like a daughter to me. I do love you, but I love Liichen also." you say
>"oh." she simply says
>"Sweetheart, you're the most special girl in my heart, you really are, but you're not my lover. You're my daughter."
>she looks up at you, head nodding
>"You understand Sonja?"
>she nods her head, "Okay, I understand, I love you... Dad."
>you hug her tightly
>"I love you too sweety."
>somewhere up in Valhalla, Richard is smiling upon you


>the sound of gunfire draws your attention outside
>"Sonja, you've got your duties, whatever happens, just know, I'm proud of you."
>she smiles and hugs you, then she unslings her rifle and unfolds the stock
>you take your Mk.14 and rush outside
>the line is opening up on another wave of orcs and goblins
>you join in, mag dumping into the crowd
>at this point the blood from all the goblins and orcs stain the ground until it turned into red mud
>this is bad
>the enemy surge forth
>this might be it
>the grenadiers fire their last grenades before switching over to their rifles and sidearms
>the elves have their bayonets affixed

>the two lines clash
>no longer do the militia fight like a modern military force
>rather they have regressed back to the old ways of barbarism
>they fight with sticks and stones
>the villagers try their best to help their men by firing arrows and throwing rocks on the enemy
>it helps to thin the tide, but the gobbies engaging the militia in melee are too close to be shot without blue on blue
>the militia retreat to the second trench, tossing behind grenades as they go
>it thins the horde effectively and the archers do their jobs
>but there's too many of them to
>as you retreat you trip over a corpse
>your ankle shoots in pain
>an orc approaches
>he raises his machete
>you close your eyes and accept the inevitable


>but then he is peppered with .308 rounds
>Henning runs up to you and drags you away
>"You alright Anon?" he asked
>you tell him you twisted your ankle pretty bad
>he slings his rifle and fireman carries you to the secondary trench
>but not before a goblin charges up to him and stabs him in the back with a rusty spear and hits you in the head with the blunt end of the balde
>Henning screams before you react and pull out your Hi-Mag
>you blow the little goblin's head apart with 3 rounds of 9mm Antebellum
>"ANOOON!!!"
>Liichen runs out into no man's land helps you limp across the field whilst the militia and archers cover you
>"Shit! Liichen we left Henning!" you yell over the gunfire
>she looks back, then at you, shaking her head
>"It's him or you Anon, I'm sorry."
>you protest, grabbing at Henning while Liichen pulls you away from Henning bleeding out on the ground
>you can still hear him call out your name

>Liichen closes her eyes and kept going forward
>right into friendly lines
>she drops you off in the trench and walks off with her OSG40 (STG58) in hand
>Sonja comes up to you and starts treating your head wound
>it split the left side of your scalp
>she's washes it with water and bandages it
>you sit there in shock at what Liichen did
>"Anon, are you okay?" she asked
>no, you're really not
>you close your eyes, hoping for this whole situation to be a nightmare
>but everytime you do you see those greyish-green eyes staring back at you
>it's not your fault
>it's her's


>then the ground shook
>my God
>you peer out of the trench to see two ogres approaching
>holy shit they're massive
>the 8.2mm Krauser rounds simply bounce off of their car armor
>good God you're all fucked
>Sonja looks scared, she looks down on you to see your neutral expression
>so this is how it ends
>letting a friend die and getting stomped to death
>out of futility, you close your eyes

>Monika's voice beckons you over
>her emerald green eyes and red hair shining in the bright light
>she's wearing a cute, white summer dress
>it's weird because ever since high school she was a tomboy
>it's weird to see her wearing a dress showing off her muscular, yet feminine frame
>it's funny so you laugh
>"What's so funny Anon? Do I look like a comedian to you?" she asks sarcastically
>"No sweetheart. Come on, let's go home, the kids are waiting." you say

>Sonja's screaming snaps you out of it
>the second trench has been overrun
>the goblins are right on top of your position
>she's shooting the goblins and whacking them with the butt of her rifle
>all the women and children are now fighting for their lives or running away
>the gobbies and orcs are ignoring you
>why is it always you that gets to live?
>you pick up your Mk.14 and stand on your twisted ankle
>the pain doesn't even matter anymore
>you run into the fray, shooting and stabbing any goblin that gets in your way
>Sonja's shirt is ripped open, her webgear ruined by cuts and rips
>she's still fighting
>the Ogres draw closer
>then a god almighty roar


>three 25mm Accelerite rounds rip through the first ogre
>the sheer force of the rounds were enough rip wind and send shockwaves
>it goes down and crushes with it multiple goblins and orcs
>Grunk takes the Antipanzergewehr and begins to charge at the crowd swinging
>he throws multiple goblins over the air with his swings
>he starts to fire with his .700 Nitro Express sawn off
>the imposing figure of Grunk seems to scare the goblins
>but they begin to overwhelm him
>Gus is shooting the goblins and orcs off of Grunk with his OSG40 (STG58)
>but then he runs out of ammo and switches over to using his bayonet
>"GET OFF OF HIM YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!!" yells out Gus

>but the sight of the ogre falling doesn't deter the goblins for long
>they charge in, ready to kill
>they're 100 meters in now
>this is it
>none of the men have any more ammo left
>a couple militiaman cracked their rifles in half swinging it too hard
>Liichen's down to her Hi-Mag
>this is it


>unbeknownst to everyone something is coming
>a soft, distant whirring sound is heard
>no one could hear it at first, but as it got closer, no one could ignore it
>the charging goblins look up
>a huge swath of charging goblins and orcs gets chewed up along with the ground
>everybody looks up to process what happened
>two FA-41 Sky Phantoms painted in woodland nose up after the low altitude gun run
>they turn around pulling off 3G maneuvers, empty shell casings ejecting out of the breeches on the underside of the planes
>dozens of charging goblins and orcs get chewed up by their .50 cal guns
>one of the ogres get lit up by a WP round and the flight of Phantoms circle around and fire off a missile each
>the entire top half of the ogres explode into puddles of gore, covering the surrounding trees in a burnt blood and flesh
>the goblins and orcs at this point retreat back into the woods
>their positions are marked again by white phosphorous shot from the woods
>the dark green Sky Phantoms do gun runs and empty their rockets into the treeline
>suddenly the Sky Phantoms pill out of station, and fly north, out of sight and earshot

>dead silence
>somebody popped purple smoke on your lines
>the elves don't rejoice
>the militiamen don't simply look in shock at the carnage of the kill zone before them
>everybody is covered in blood to some degree
>Sonja is clutching to her rifle, her eyes wide open in fear and paranoia
>you slump down to your knees
>so this is what hell looks like


>you walk up to the no man's land between the first and second defensive trench
>to where Henning was
>he's on the ground, his body and fatigues soaked in goblin blood
>you reach down to shut his eyes
>you notice the pink scarf on his neck
>you remember that it was his daughters
>you can't cry anymore
>"I'll see you on the other side soon, Henning"
>you take a cigarette out from his pocket, and with your Rippo you light it
>you stick the cig in his mouth and leave his body

>Liichen walks up behind you, putting her hands on your shoulders
>"I'm sorry Anon." she says shamefully
>you turn to her, face neutral
>"Don't say sorry to me, say it to him."
>you take Henning's scarf
>you get up and walk back to the second trench
>Liichen stands there in the field, staring into Henning's body
>"I'm ordering you to drag his body back Staff Sergeant Liichen." you say
>she looks at you with her mouth slightly agape, but she nods mournfully
>such is war

>you order the remaining men to go out into the field and reclaim corpses of the fallen back into the village
>the next couple hours are filled with the elves going into the field and bayoneting living orcs/goblins
>you gather all the men into formation after cleanup duty
>usually Henning does these things for you
>you read off of a list
>of the 150 militiamen, only 52 remain, 12 wounded, 86 KIA
>civilian casualties: 72 young women, 55 children, 18 elderly
>total casualties: 231 dead

>the mercs are all in rank and file
>Gus, Liichen, Grunk, Rat, and you
>"Where's Funker?" you ask in a tired voice
>Rat stares at you, and points to the smoldering woods at the edge of the treeline



>the situation was getting dire
>he had to do something
>the radio static cleared
>and for a split second
>he realized what had to be done
>"RAT! RAT!" he yell
>Rat runs over, "What is it Funker?"
>"Take these purple smoke grenades, when those planes fly over I want you to pop them along friendly positions."
>Rat looks puzzled, but Funker explains to him what the plan was
>"Do you understand the plan Michael?" yells Funker over the gunfire
>Rat stood, confused and scared
>"Fuck it! I can't wait, just pop those smokes when the planes show up!" he turns to step out of the trench
>Rat grabs Funker's hand
>"Jack!" Rat yells
>Funker looks back at Rat
>"Don't do this to me Canungra!" yells Rat
>Funker looks back before stepping out of the trench
>"It's my job Brantz, we're mercs; I'm a radio operator." says Funker
>Rat is crying at this point, he hasn't cried since he lost his family to the riot cops in the Underground raids those 11 years ago
>Rat is begging Funker, "Jack, please. Don't go man. You're the only family I've got left!" he says choking through his tears
>Funker turns around and hugs Rat tightly
>"Thank you Mike. You're the best brother from another mother a man can have." says Funker, he too is crying
>Funker hands something over to Rat
>"I'll say hi to your folks when I get there."
>those were the last words Funker ever spoke to Rat

>Funker snuck out from the east, circling the treeline careful to not be spotted by the horde
>he ran up the incline of the woods until he could finally get a signal
>he took a grenade launcher with a couple WP rounds with him
>"Come on baby, come on." he said as he fiddled with the radio's frequency knobs
>".... Grou... this is.. repeat..."
>the quality got better
>"Does anybody hear us? This is Spectre Flight-1..."


>You, Rat, Sonja, and a squad of militiamen make your way north of the trench, to the woods where Funker said he'd be
>you find him deep in the woods, surrounded by dead goblins
>his dead hands still clutched onto his trenchgun
>he died alone in the woods, surrounded not by his friends, but by enemies
>Rat takes out the thing that Funker gave him before he went
>he unwraps the hankerchief to find a folding pocket knife
>it was Rat's father’s knife
>the last thing Rat ever got from his father
>Funker took it from him when they were children to stop Rat from killing himself
>Rat walks over to Funker and takes his Steubens M37 from his cold dead hands
>"You were a good friend Jack." he says
>Sonja hugs onto you as you stare at the friends
>"Uncle Canungra's dead." she says weeping
>everyone else was crying except you
>you've no more tears left

>the militia have done their best to gather all the dead into cemetery in the town center
>Funker and Henning were buried next to each other
>7 militiamen with the remaining ammo stood by on the sides
>"Faenen Village, we did it. We survived the onslaught of the goblin menace and now have time to mourn the dead. I know that this has been a hard three days, but we are still alive, and we owe it to the dead to continue living long happy lives!"
>"Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Henning and Sergeant Jack “Funker” Canungra, were both excellent soldiers. But more importantly, they were good friends
>”Their deaths will be known as a necessary sacrifice to not only the people of this village in their valiant defense of these woods.”
>“Henning will go down, as a loving father, a great leader, and hero who saved my life."
>"may their souls rest in the Heavens, and may the Kube bless them to serve it in eternity."
>you give the signal, and the 7 militia men march down the aisle
>”I Had A Comrade” arranged by the Gaullian Foreign Legion played on his radio

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s5PfwfemMT0 [Embed]

>"Company, Halt!"
>"Present, Arms!"
>the milita and mercs salute
>"FIRE!"


>You back down from the podium as Rat stands
>"Sergeant Jack 'Funker' Canungra, was never my best friend. But despite all that, he still tolerated me and remained by my side, even after all the years we drifted apart."
>Rat takes a deep breath
>"Today, I would like to commemorate the memory of a true hero. A real man amongst men. If it not for him, we would not have stood here on this hallowed ground today. So, when you go to sleep today, I want everybody to think about Sergeant Canungra, not as a dog of war, but as a man. As a good brother. As a good comrade. As the best man a man can have. As a hero, who gave his life to save the many."
>Rat back down from the stage
>Liichen keeps staring at you
>but you can't even look her in the eye
>not after what she did

>the following days were followed by sounds of distant gunfire
>the rangers returned and report that GREENFOR has retreated from the woods and are returning to Bruins City, and are traveling due north of the woods
>they report seeing strange flying metal machines shooting down on the retreated force
>the militia are ordered to stand down, but patrols were still conducted
>the whole town spent days cleaning up the thousands of dead orcs and goblins
>they count to around 2,500 dead, give or take a few goblins
>you probably would need a couple more days to clean up all the dead
>some of the militia men fell sick due to the stench
>no one packed gas masks, so the best they could do was breathe through their mouths and hope they don't inhale anything
>cigarette smoke helps to mask the smell though, so everybody started smoking


>you were in the HQ in the town center smoking
>the mercs managed to recover his black beret and pink scarf
>his Geweer-3 was buried with him
>you take put his daughter's scarf and his beret into your tornister
>Funker's radio was in remarkable condition when the mercs found his body
>he was overwhelmed by the goblins, he was shot in the gut and left thigh, covered in stab and slash wounds
>must've been a painful way to die
>Rat said that Funker taught him how to use the radio in case he kicked the bucket
>he also took his trenchgun as well
>you've never seen Rat so dejected before
>you guess they really did bond in the end
>you think back to what happened in the comms tent
>the look of guilt on his eyes as you cleaved him
>good God, what if he went out there because of you?
>because he wanted to prove himself
>all because of you
>the thought of it makes your heart sink
>first Henning because your clumsy ass tripped
>now Funker because you guilt tripped him into redeeming himself

>"Anon? I'm coming in." said Liichen
>you glare at her as she does
>she flinches under your intense gaze
>she keeps taking glances at your Hi-Mag on the table
>"Ano..."
>"Why didn't you go back there for him Liichen?" you ask
>this shuts her up


>a tense silence permeates the HQ tent as you glare at her, waiting for an answer
>she's like a deer caught in the headlights
>"... wuh... what?"
>you reiterate, "Why the FUCK didn't you go back out for him?"
>she looks nervous, visibly sweating as she scratches her neck
>"Anon, there were just too many of them, I couldn't get out there again without being swarmed by them Anon!"
>"You should've saved Henning first, he was more wounded than I was Liichen. I could've made it back myself."
>she looks sympathetically at you
>"Look Anon, I know that you're feeling guilty, but he gave up his life so that I cou..."
>you glare at her, "Could what? Live? Why do I deserve to live more than him?"
>Liichen stares at you in shock
>"Because I love you Anon."
>you take another puff from your cig
>"Why? What did I do to deserve love. I'm a monster."
>she sits down with you, her hands on your shoulders
>”Anon.. you’re not a…”
>you simply stare back into her emerald green eyes with your hollow ones
>"You have no idea what I've done..."


Angiang, Markaya, 1868
>the rain kept pouring down
>like God was crying for one of his fallen angels
>like it always does in Markaya
>Monika's pulse went flat
>you check her eyes
>her pupils are completely dilated
>you close them gently
>without thinking you take her radio pack and put it on
>you fish a fresh stripper clip from your web belt and reload your Krauser
>under concealment you make your way back into the treeline towards Squads 1 and 2
>you inform them that Squad 3 has been wiped out and that they are to hold their positions and to report it to HQ
>without another word you run back into the village
>you sneak your way along the huts on the edge of town
>you see a gun barrel sticking out of a window pointing south
>you run up to the house
>you take a stick grenade from your belt
>and throw it into an open window
>you hear a man and woman exclaim in Markayan before the thatch house erupts into a cloud of dust and straw
>by the time the dust settled you were gone
>the only trace of your presence near the house are your bootprints in the mud, which quickly disappear in the rain
>as you make your way deeper into town you spot a whole squad of enemies with Vintovka-47s
>around 10 of them or so
>looks like the Zhukovians are giving the rebels higher quality weapons
>no wonder Squad 3 got wiped out, their bolt action Krausers were no match for full auto weapons


>you've got one grenade left
>you've got them by their right flank, and they're still looking towards the house you fragged
>as quietly as possible you unscrew the cap on your stick grenade
>but the sound of the pin striking the fuse as you pull the string alerts them to your position
>you hit the deck into a drainage ditch as the men open fire into your position
>a hail of gunfire cuts close to you, throwing mud into your face
>three seconds have passed since you've pulled the pin
>you throw it into the air as hard as you can
>the grenade explodes mid air, showering the Markayan rebels in high speed shrapnel
>most of them died in the explosion
>some of them still survived, though worse for wear and covered in shrapnel wounds
>there's two of them still in fighting condition
>it's time
>you jump to your feet from your prone position in the drainage ditch and strafe sideways to the nearest thatch hut
>it won't be proper cover, but if you lay low they may miss you
>as you run you fire your Krauser into the squad wildly as you sprint for cover
>when you do reach the house you hit the deck again expecting to receive fire
>instead you hear one of them screaming
>you peak your head out to see one of the rebels hit in his thigh and his wounded comrade dragging him to cover
>when the dragging rebel sees you peeking out he fires his Vintovka at you wildly
>the rounds hit right at the top of your head, but you keep calm under fire and take aim
>just like in basic
>the automatic gunfire stops with the resounding crack of an 8.2mm Krauser
>the rebel drops to the wet mud with a thud, blood pouring from the entry wound in his forehead
>the belly shot man looks at his dead comrade in shock
>then he sees you emerging from behind the thatch house
>he screams in fear and kicks his feet trying to get away
>but before he gets any further you walk up to him and stomp on his wound
>his screams of agony were cut short when you empty the rest of your cartridges into him


>the villagers were all rounded up after the the mess
>you interrogated each and every one of them to see if they knew about the ambush
>they remain fearful, but adamantly claim they knew nothing
>"Well if you don't know these guys, then I guess you won't mind if I..."
>you aim your Krauser at one of the dead's legs shoot it
>it takes a couple rounds before the leg comes off
>one of the villagers cries out
>looks like a woman
>you walk over to her and ask her if she knows anything about the rebels
>you noticed that she tried to shut herself up as you walk up to her
>"... is that your husband?"
>you notice that she froze up a bit as you said that
>bingo
>"... he didn't suffer for long, but if you keep this up, you and your family will."
>she breaks
>she starts to tell you about everything
>troop movements, weapons locations
>this was all the evidence you need as you order the remaining men to tie everybody up and wait for battalion to send in reinforcements
>but not before you get an idea

>the FA-41 Sky Phantoms fly over the village
>four silver canisters can be seen falling from the under the planes
>the village erupts into a flaming inferno as the villagers weep over the destruction of the village
>you've gotten your revenge now, but does it make it any better?
>no, it really doesn't


>"So, still think I should live Liichen?"
>she looks at you with blank eyes, unsure of what to do or how to interpret what you said
>"Anon..."
>your cigarette is gone
>you take another from your pack and light it
>this time you stare into the flame of your Rippo
>you look her in her beautiful eyes
>"Liichen, I don't blame you for what you did. You were scared, and I was more important to you than Henning was, I know that..."
>"... I've got bad things coming to me Liichen. Henning and Funker were just the start."
>she takes your hand
>"Anon, we've all done things we regretted in the past, but you can't beat yourself over the head with it."
>you look her dead in the eye
>"We all gotta pay our dues in the end, and I think it's the end for me."
>Liichen stares you dead in the eye
>"Anon. How could you say that after all we've been through? Enough with the fatalistic shit Anon. We've made it this far we'll be fine baby."
>you stub out your cigarette and drink your coffee
>you're supposed to be a leader Anon
>what kind of example are you setting for your men?
>Henning was strong, he was stronger than you
>he was right, we all have our own baggage, but we have to be strong enough to carry it
>if not for yourself, then for the sake of another


>what would you have done Henning?
>would you have been consumed by the guilt of your past?
>or would you rebel against it and live with it?
>"Anon.. baby, Funker didn't die because of you, he died because he wanted to protect his friends and comrades. I don't think it's fair for you to act like this. I don't think people die so that we can sulk over their deaths Anon. I believe that they die so that we can live longer and happier lives."
>"... don't do this to them Anon. Henning and Funker didn't just die for you Gods dammit, they both died for all of us. It's not the Gods or some other higher being that wants to prolong your suffering by keeping you alive. Not everything is about you dammit."
>"... you think they'd want you to see you like this? Sulking away in your own self pity?" she asks, with more conviction in her voice
>you stutter, "I... I suppose not"
>"Right, so get on your feet soldier. The men need you, commander. I need you."
>she says that as she rubs your shoulder
>you sit up straight, stubbing out your cigarette and downing the last of your coffee
>she sits down at your side, looking into your eyes
>"I know it must be hard for you Anon, truly, but you really can't beat yourself over the head with it. We'll make it through together, I promise."
>...
>"Alright Liichen, I'm okay. Let's get to work."

>for the next few days you and Liichen were ordering the militia around
>Rat got off the radio and reported that the company was finally able to dock the cargo ships at Weiße Klippe's ports
>the tanks are rolling down southbound via the old highways
>the bodies have been mostly cleared away, but without heavy equipment mass graves were hard to construct
>so you decided to move them into a corner of the woods until the company arrives so they can take care of it
>meanwhile people are trying to find ways to get rid of the smell of burnt shit and flesh
>Gus and Grunk are doing a lot of the NCO work
>they seem to make a great team together


A week later
>the whooping sounds got louder and louder
>the wind gradually picks up as the treetops start blowing violently
>the elves and militia are looking up in anticipation
>the roaring sound of chopping air became loud enough to drown out gunfire
>a squadron of Juey JH-1 helicopters skim just above the treeline
>they do a quick airbraking maneuver before descending
>the rotor wash blows down the slightly red tinged knee length grass in no man's land
>the five choppers drop down towards the ground with haste, hovering just above the ground in ground effect

>mercs begin jumping from the helicopters hovering just above the ground
>they're all wearing OD flak jackets and Kevlar vests
>looks like they've got "black rifles" as they're called
>the airborne mercs are all armed with Stoning Auto-18's with 30 round banana mags
>they jump off and begin running towards the village
>they're all wearing gas masks, likely because Rat told them about the smell problem
>the Jueys take off, and another squad of Jueys land in their place
>this continues until around 200 airborne troops are dropped off in the village
>the last choppers land and drop off their payload
>you see a lanky male figure wearing white jump off
>amongst the sea of OD and woodland fatigues there stands a human wearing a white button up with a loosened red tie and black slacks
>he's dressed head to toe like an office worker, with the exception of his unzipped flak jacket, K-pot steel pot helmet and jungle boots
>the Tony gun in his right hand also indicates this guy may be more than just an office worker



UPDATE 7/28/20



>"Commander Lieutenant Colonel Anon Anonson?" he yells over the roar of the Juey's engines
>you yell back in an affirmative
>"My name's Vining! I'm from the company!"

>"Commander Lieutenant Colonel Anon Anonson?" he yells over the roar of the Juey's engines
>you yell back in an affirmative
>"I'm Operative Vining! I'm from the company!"

>as the paratroopers clear off the LZ, you and Vining run off of the field and past the trenches to get away from the smell of rotting orc and goblins corpses
>the two of you make it past hordes of men dressed in flak jackets dragging wooden crates into the village center
>NCOs are barking out orders in Nortelandish and screaming at FNGs
>Just like the good ole days when you were in the army
>the two of you enter the CP in the center of the hustle and bustle and settle down on tree stump seats.
>"So, Operat..." you begin, but get cut off
>"Call me Vining, Commander." he says
>"... oh, well Vining, they didn't mention that you were coming along with the airborne detachment. What gives?" you ask
>the white shirted man takes off his helmet and flak, loosens his red tie and pulls out a cigarette
>you offer him a light and he accepts
>as he takes a deep inhale from his cig, he explains
>"... the Company wanted me to come down here to give an unbiased tactical appraisal of the situation." said Vining
>you inquire why the Company would need to send in someone who is unbiased in the first place
>you suspect that something is up with the top brass
>Vining simply smiles at you and continues smoking
>but his smile soon fades away to a more pensive countenance.
>he leans in, smoke slowly wafting up from his nostrils, giving him a somewhat dragonic aesthetic
>his eyes shift left and right, as if you were both being listened upon
>"Commander, what I say in this tent must absolutely not leave this room. Understood?"
>now he has your interest
>"Commander, your unit was set up."

>you stare at the man incredulously
>you ask him the most obvious question
>he responds, "... the Company is currently in a civil war right now. The chief executive and the president are at odds with each other over control over the company's military and financial operations." he says
>you remember Liichen saying how the top brass were a bunch of high elves after the Rain God ambushed your convoy
>you ask the next most obvious question
>he replies, "... as you know the Company was a mining corporation before the Merge. As such, they have a keen interest in mining raw resources."
>"... but after the Merge, it's getting increasingly harder and harder to find the resources to sustain large scale mining operations, as such the Company shifted over to a more... mercenary minded business model."
>he takes a drag from his cig and continues
>"... but of course the CEO didn't like that at all, you know how elves can be, they're up their own asses, so when there were talks of the human president being promoted to the position of CEO over him because the human's PMC business model worked, well you know what happens..."
>he takes a sip from his canteen of Monster's Delight
>you ask him how your unit was set up
>"... you think that dragon appeared for no reason? Anon, those things don't just appear for no reason. Those things are attracted to certain artifacts."
>then it all clicks together, the Antipanzergewehr-20
>those 25mm Accelerite rounds

>but still, why would the Company set your unit up to failure?
>"... because the CEO wants to make a show of the failure of the president's PMC business model to the Board. At the end of the day, it's all about the CEO's ego. He didn't want to be replaced."
>he continues, "... if your unit was completely wiped out then the president would've been ousted, but you succeeded with your mission, and now the Company owns the mining rights to this sector."
>but now you've probably made enemies with a powerful elf CEO

>"... not necessarily Commander, the CEO was found dead just about a week ago. Apparent suicide in his forest cabin, blew his head inside out with a 12 gauge."
>"Allegedly, of course, no one but the Board of Directors and the top brass are supposed to know what happened to the CEO... "
>he smirks to no one in particular, cigarette smoke slowly filtering out of his grin as he looks into his canteen
>"... that includes me." he finishes
>you ask another obvious question
>"... why did I do it? Simple, I'm a merc at the end of the day, just like you, except I get better pay."
>but you were reading him the whole time, the way he moved, looked and talked
>this was not just for the money is it?
>he chuckles heartily
>"You know Commander, you would've made it far in the SIA (Strategic Intelligence Agency) with skills like yours."
>his smirk disappears, "... well, in truth... I owed someone a favor, a debt of honor."
>he continues, "... I'm just here to repay my debts Commander." he says
>finally, you ask him why did he come here, if he of all people is not supposed to know, why is he telling you all this?
>he stops, pondering his response
>"... I don't know, I guess there's just something about you that I trust. You remind me of someone I know Anon. You've got his qualities."
>and with that he smirks, finishes his fifth cigarette, and puts back on his steel pot helmet and flak jacket
>as he turns to leave, you ask him why he is really here, you have a feeling he's not truthful
>he simply smiles, "What do you mean? I was never here."
>you chase after him, but when you open the tent flap, you can only catch a brief glimpse of him standing near the village center, over the graves
>but when you reach the small park in the town center all you can see around you is a sea of olive drab and ERDL fatigues.
>is that cigarette smoke you smell?
>you look down to see where the smell came from
>it was from a cigarette sticking out from Henning's grave
>freshly lit

>you bend down to pick up the burning cigarette
>barely been smoked
>the roars of a squadron of Jueys taking off has you looking up
>a familiar white shirted figure sits at the open door of the chopper
>his cigarette ashes falling down upon the earth
>you stare at the chopper until it goes beyond the canopy of the surrounding forest of the village

>it's a lot to take in, but right now you have a town to run
>you push through the sea of OD and ERDL camo
>there's so many mercs here that the air is 95% cigarette smoke right now
>even for a smoker like you, you're coughing
>well, at least it's masking the smell of rot somewhat
>the paratroopers all varied in composition
>mostly Nortelander humans males and a couple of orcs mixed in

>the orc mercs are blasting their fucking orc tribal chants on their little Walkmenschen on speaker phones
>it sounds like drunken Kaiserreichan and a Zhukovian bar fight noises
>no I don't want your fucking mixtapes soldier
>no, it's Lieutenant Colonel to you Private, not WaRChiEf
>NO I DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKING MIXTAPES
>who the hell approved these mercs for active contracting?
>you hope to fuck your contract ends soon so you can have your 7200 silvers

>the villagers don't seem happy either
>how the fuck did these guys get drunk already?
>it's only been an hour since they landed
>turns out those wooden crates not only contained ammo and Krausers
>but also a literal shit-ton of cigarettes and booze
>you're not hyperbolizing either
>you're the one in charge of reading the logistical ledgers
>the paras are carrying at least one and a quarter imperial tons of ammo and supplies
>you're not surprised if only 500 pounds of the total 2500 pounds of supplies moved are of actual strategic importance
>so much for quitting
>the orcs are having a go at the womenfolk of the village
>oh Khristus
>the sexual harassment reports are going to go through the roof
>"Hey baby, are you a grommet?" asked one orc to an elf
>spaghetti spills from his ammo pouches
>she looks visibly confused
>"... cause I wanna put my static line through you." he finishes with an autistic lecherous grin
>you hear his human battle buddy visibly groan at that
>"Just rape her already you green retard!" said his human merc buddy