Friday, June 22, 2007

*“It’s cold out here.”

Falcon muttered to no one in particular. Unsurprisingly, he heard grunts of agreements from his fellow friends.

Friends.

And comrades.

The skies above Falcon are overcast, matching the gloomy, cold, weather Falcon was currently right smack in the middle of. Some say that the skies know what is happening, for they are, after all, looking at everything from above.

And perhaps, they could be right.

Right in front of them, was a long, dark line.

A line, of horses.

A line, of enemies.

They have been laying siege to Falcon’s castle for days now, but with the surrounding trees already hacked down months ago, the enemy only had the barest of means to construct their siege equipment. The castle itself was has sufficient supplies to last for at least two years, and plans were already underway to change the main courtyard into a mini farm where they could become self-sufficient.

They had to be.

Because, they are the last line of defence into the kingdom. Some called the castle, the doorway into Sophia. Some call it an impenetrable fortress.

To all, it is simply known as “The Gate”.

And rightfully so.

Surrounding The Gate was mountains, with the only path through them being defended by The Gate. The Gate itself, was well defended with a host of archers and battle hardened soldiers.

But, beyond The Gate, was nothing. If the enemy breaks The Gate, Sophia would fall in a matter of days, even hours.

Hence, the importance of holding the only passageway.

“How long do they intend to stand there?” Falcon wondered, fingering the bowstring of his longbow. His closest friend, Orion, shrugged his shoulders in reply, his eyes never leaving the sight of the line.

Smiling at Orion’s concentration, Falcon’s mind wandered back to the times when they were mere boys, being thrown into the ruthless training to become Longbowmen, strengthening their muscles to hold a bow which is almost as tall as he currently is now, and as heavy as himself. Moreover, the strength required to pull an arrow to shoot over 300 feet could only be achieved with a training which was as intense as it was required.

Hard times, hard times.

But that, was all in the past.

Being a Longbowman, Falcon had no need to worry about getting into close combat. All’s fine with him, because, in his reasoning, if you let your foe come within 7 feet of you, that is when you should expect trouble. Take them down while they are still 300 feet away.

“They’re coming.” Orion muttered.

Falcon snapped back to reality, as he looked for any signs of movement along the line. Initially, he thought Orion should get to bed, but when he squinted to get a closer look, a sudden spear of fear stabbed into his heart.

Orion was right.

The enemy is coming.

A fact not lost to the captain, who was, thankfully, much more observant than Falcon.

“Sound the horn”, the captain instructed calmly, a veteran who has earned his stripes the hard way, hence earning the respect of everyone as well.

A deep growing note sounded ringed through the night seconds later, as everyone snapped out of their trance, looking suddenly much more alive than they were moments ago.

Amidst the sounds of preparation from the resting soldiers, Falcon wondered why the enemy has suddenly decided to break out of their siege.

“A raiding party, perhaps?” Falcon wondered, refraining from using the term “Suicide squad”.

“No.” Orion replied curtly.

And, as usual, Orion was right.

At the centre of the tight enemy formation, was a battle ram.

“Ah, crap.” Falcon cursed, almost light-heartedly. Not a stranger to battles, Falcon knew that it should be the target the captain will call on sooner or later. However, the enemy would no doubt know that the ram could have been painted red as a target box for all they would have cared, and hence, would have placed their strongest armor and shield divisions to guard that ram.

“Men, nock!” the Captain called out.

As one, all the archers on the wall drew an arrow from their quivers and placed the nock on the bowstring. Around Falcon, everyone was calmly taking deep breaths, their eyes never leaving the growing dark line which was approaching them.

“Wager for 500 paces?” Falcon muttered. Orion ignored him, as he continued to concentrate on the line.

“You’re boring man.” Falcon concluded.

Had there been a wager, Falcon would have won. But then again, no one would be silly enough to take him on anyway. “Draw!” was shouted when the enemy approached 500 paces.

Immediately, the archers brought their bows up, aiming their arrows at the advancing line. In one quick fluid motion, they drew their arrows, the fletching reaching their ears for everyone.

No one staggered, no one wavered.

Everyone simply calmly waiting for the next order, their motion burnt into their brains from the time they knew what was truly happening in the world.

At 300 paces, the order came.

“Fire!”

Letting the arrow loose, the archers simply released their arrows. At 300 paces, it was impossible for one to truly hit anything. The strategy everyone used was simply to fire indiscriminately at a spot of land, and hope that it hits something. While the chance is so low that most arrows will simply be wasted, it is not a complete waste.

No one could look at a hail of dark arrows raining from the sky and not feel a tinge of fear. Even the most hardened man will have to look down and hope that his armour protects him from the hail of death from above. Trained men will simply continue walking, but the fearful and untrained ones may simply turn tail and flee. That is the effect an army of archers can have on an enemy.

Sadly, the enemy isn’t the former. Without a break in their stride, they continue to advance towards The Gate.

“Nock!”

“Draw!”

“Fire!”

A second hail of arrows descended onto the enemy. This time, more screams were heard as more arrows found the weak spot of the neck. Archers have to continue to shooting in unison until they can truly be precise on their shots.

And continue, they did.

Hail after hail of death continued to rain down on the enemy, killing as the arrows found their mark or harmlessly deflecting off a sheet of armour.

At 190 paces, the final order was given by the captain.

“Men!”

“Fire at will!”

“About time too.” Falcon said through gritted teeth.

Aiming at the thigh of one of the advancing figures, Falcon let loose and arrow, smiling with satisfaction as he saw the figure fell almost instantly, adding his scream to the noise and destruction. Immediately, he drew another arrow and took aim at another unsuspecting figure.

“The ram!” Orion shouted.

Looking ahead, Falcon realised that the Ram was steadily getting closer. Although he trust that his fellow gate keepers can keep the ram’s damage to the minimum, he knew that if the Ram was destroyed, this attack would be over.

Just as if the Ram breaches the gate, this attack would also be over.

Aiming at one of the carriers, Falcon let loose his arrow immediately. Although the man fell, another replaced him immediately. The Ram continued to inch closer to the gate at every passing second, despite the hail of arrows coming down onto the carriers.

Suddenly, a spark of light fell onto the ram.

Then, another.

And another.

“Fire arrows.” Falcon smirked, as he momentary diverted his gaze at the Captain’s own unit, their arrowheads tipped with oil and ignited by the torchboy.

The Captain obviously knew what to expect, and had already prepared for it long in advance. As the Ram was made of wood, it was easily combustible. Litter it with fire arrows, and it becomes a nice bon-fire within moments.

This is also obviously why Falcon would never become an officer, or at least, in the near future.

Within moments, the Ram was a burning heap of wood. With no way to put the fire out, the men had no choice but to leave it.

However, something is different now.

Falcon smiled as he released another arrow to reinforce his point.

Finally, realising that they simply cannot win this battle, the men routed and fled. Hails of arrows continued to reinforce their decision, as the enemy, finally broken, decided that it was enough for one day. Running away, the once organised unit finally became a structured mess, as men pulled back on the sound of the retreating horn.

Around Falcon, everyone was cheering at their victory. Himself laughing, Falcon joined in taunting their fleeing foes.

Even Orion, smiled.

“And so, it ends”, he muttered, beginning to unstring his bow.

“And now, to prepare for the next wave.” Falcon laughed, patting Orion in the back.*

---

And yes, so now, uni is over for me too. Nyaa.

Got my Queensland Driver's license yesterday. However, I still preferred the shiny gloss which was found on the Singapore's license. The process itself took a lot longer than necessary as the staff didn't recognise my license (Going so far as to ask if it was a learner's license! :O!).

But what the hell. I got it.

And now, to work. Whee.

---

Song of (Whatever) changed to the Ending Movie from Final Fantasy XII by Hitoshi Sakimoto. Like all of the final movie themes, this one was excellent too.

And a fitting end to my Uni sem. Whee.

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