The Black Horde was now three miles away from the main Southern Army force. The Southern Army was still marching out to meet the horde and to fully get in formation. Long, thick lines of silver blanketed the grassy field just in front of the hill. The heavy infantry moved forward in their impressive, grey armor and massive red shields and red tipped spears. The light swords moved ahead behind the cavalry. A reserve unit of heavy infantry and a few footmen units stayed at the top of the hill overlooking the wide plains. The heavy infantry, light swords, and horse detachment stopped.
The Black Horde was now half a mile away. The Black Horde also stopped. Only the drums were heard from the horde. There standing in the center of the horde was Vul’Goth and his guard unit. One orc captain with a red pauldron pointed to a boulder spotting Albert looking at them with his looking glass.
Vul’Goth stared through the looking glass at the hill noticing Albert jumping down from the boulder and onto an armored horse. The orc captain moved the looking glass away from Vul’Goth sensing something. Vul’Goth’s slight smile disappeared and his face became emotionless. His demeanor changed overall. Though arms crossed and standing tall with just the slightest bit of his face peering out of his helmet, Vul’Goth had an aura of seriousness and fear inducing anxiety to him. A consuming wave of fury oozed off of him like steam in the rain. His brow hardened as his eyes were locked forward with a harsh focus. His eyes narrowed and a tinge of red was slowly growing over the blue irises. Some of the orcs closes to him backed away nervously.
He looked down taking in long, deep breaths. He thought about cutting through the human lines and the glory his horde will have in defeating the enemy. He took a final very long breath and stared coldly across the grassy plain. His muscles tightened, his hands began gripping his arms harshly, and the drums began to clang louder and louder.
An orc captain walked up and asked meekly, “We go, boss? We good to charge?”
Vul’Goth opened his eyes stared deeply at the human army. He grunted harshly and gave a nod. The orc captain turned around and roared lifting his axe and shield in the air. The rest of the orcs roared and yelled in response. The orc lines began moving forward at a fast jog and near sprint. Vul’Goth and the Grave Guards stayed still.
Desmond was standing in a shield wall formation, spears drawn forward, and packed tightly into the center of a phalanx in the third row of the frontlines. Desmond looked to his right to see Johnathan vomit something yellow and green onto the ground. Johnathan pulled his visor down and nodded at Desmond. Johnathan then pulled a locket from around his neck, opened it, and kissed the picture in it. Johnathan tucked the locket back under his breastplate.
The captain was yelling from the back of the phalanx formation, “Hold the line! Once they come close, our arrows and guns will thin them out. Those who survive the onslaught follies will meet our shields will be impaled by us! WE are the backbone of this army! WE are the grunts! The bastards! The ones who do all the dirty work! We will cut them down and drive those green fucks from these lands! Trust in the man next to you. I am honored to fight alongside you all! Kill them all!”
The men cheered, but Desmond stayed silent.
A dread of anxiety slithered down his spine. The sunlight began to disappear as dark clouds began to form. Everything seemed to slow down for Desmond. All he could hear was the breath of each men in the shield wall, the clanging of armor, and the strong breeze of the wind making the red flags of his regiment flap violently. His vision began to tunnel. He could only see what was immediately in front of him. His adrenaline was spiked to its maximum.
He stared forward at the lines of heavy infantry as they moved forward with their spears and axes The detachment of light cavalry began to charge towards the orc lines. Desmond’s regiment and others like his stayed in position. As soon as he noticed it, a loud, bellowing horn from the orcs erupted. The orc drums stopped. The orc chants stopped. The initial orc wave also stopped. Time stopped for a brief moment. The light cavalry charged bravely toward the horde.
One young cavalry man was yelling loudly, but his face soon changed to fear, shock, and then a sad acceptance as his eyes quickly noticed two lines of orc crossbows aimed toward him and the rest of the charging cavalry. A tear began to well up as he the realization set in. They were baited into it.
For a quick second, the cavalry man thought about his life and everything that lead up to it. How he went from being a farmhand who was skilled at taming and riding horses. How he went onto university and joined the army to escape the poor countryside town he was from. How he rose through the ranks because of his skill and merit. How he found love and knows his wife is waiting for him to return. How he realized that everything was for not. Everything that he had done was leading to this tragic moment for him. He was going to die and he knew it. His last immediate thought was of him telling his wife how much he loves her.
A loud roar from the orcs pierced the air as Desmond witnessed the light cavalry get cut down by crossbow fire along the orc center. It was hard to make out, but all Desmond could see were men getting riddled with bolts turning into human porcupines and horses flinging their riders forward into the carnage. Some of the horses turned around and fled with their dead riders dangling on the saddles oozing fountains of blood with multiple bolts sticking out of them. Those that survived the first few volleys were immediately cut down by orc infantry like a scythe to wheat.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The one cavalry man was flung forward off his horse as he took a few bolts to his right side and as his horse was riddled with bolts in its face and neck. He quickly sat up only to see a spear get thrusted through his face as he was about to scream. The deafening orc drums played again along with the screeching orc horns and yells. The orcs fully committed to charging now.
“Steady men! Hold,” yelled the captain as he paced side to side behind the phalanx.
Desmond looked down out of disgust and fear. He then forced himself to look forward again. As he looked forward, he noticed the light swords running out to meet the orcs. The heavy infantry stayed in line, but moved behind the light swords holding their shield wall.
One fast moving swordsman ran faster than the rest of his unit. He pulled up his scimitar and began to take a massive swing just as an orc, who was just as fast as him, was also taking a massive swing with his jagged sword nearly mirroring the other. Both instantly killed each other as the light infantry clashed with the first orc wave. Humans and orcs clashed like an unstoppable elephant charging an immovable rhino.
Limbs, helmets, broken shields, crossbow bolts, axes, swords, broken swords, gouged eyes, slashing, and screaming took over the sounds. The light infantry slowed the initial orc charge, but not for long. A brave effort nonetheless. The orcs powered through and ran towards the heavy infantry.
The heavy infantry charged forward maintaining their shield wall. One orc covered in blood jumped forward into the heavy infantry, but was impaled instantly by multiple spears. One axe was then struck forth into the Orc’s head for good measure. The rest of the orcs either were impaled by the spears, hacked by axes or clashed into the shields with great force. The orc axes and swords never let up as they kept hacking and banging against the human shields despite the heavy infantry spearing them in return.
The heavy infantry did all they could to repel the orc bashing as some the shields were beginning to break apart. However, some of the orcs used the pile of dead orcs as makeshift spring boards to jump over the first few lines of infantry. This began to break the heavy infantry lines and slowly overwhelm them. The heavy infantry put up a valiant fight, but it was for not. The black horde spewed forth like a raging flood and kept advancing towards the rest of the human lines. The heavy infantry were overwhelmed and cut down in a matter of 10 minutes.
The captain yelled, “HOLD THE LINE! By the gods as my witness, we will kill them all! Hold!”
The advancing horde moved closer and closer. Barely 200 yards away from the next line of infantry. That was when the arrows began to rain down upon the orcs along with the loud bangs from the gunners. Volley after volley, they rained down on the orcs. Orcs began to drop like flies left and right. But somehow they seemed endless and unphased. They kept charging. Kept charging like a raging bull. Kept getting cut down row after row like a scythe through wheat. The orcs kept pouring towards the human lines as if nothing could stop them.
The arrows and guns continued, but the orcs drew closer. 100 yards away form the next line of human infantry. They kept charging. Desmond gripped his shield and spear tightly nearly loosing feeling in his hands. There was a momentary pause of comfort that Desmond felt. He felt a sudden calmness take over just as soon as the first line of orcs hit the human phalanx. It was as if Desmond accepted that his death was imminent and nothing else mattered. He was calm and weirdly happy.
However; the feeling left as soon as the violent impact of orcs clashing and impaling into the spears forced Desmond back into reality. Some parts of the phalanx were pushed backwards a foot or two.
The phalanx held strong as the front lines were spearing and slashing away at the orcs efficiently and frantically. Desmond was able to spear a few orcs just by him thrusting above the heads of the first two rows of men in front of him. An orc then began screaming as he jumped over the first row of men and was diving directly towards Desmond. He couldn’t get his spear up in time or his shield. He stuck his spear into an orc and dropped it. He quickly pulled out his sword to try to slash at the flying orc’s legs. The orc screamed as Desmond slashed the orcs legs, but was immediately knocked backwards by the weight of the hulking orc into the line of footmen behind him.
The orcs body then fell limp atop Desmond. Desmond violently shoved the orc body off of him. He was helped up by Johnathan and few other footmen. Johnathan was covered in blood but was yelling, “Saved you! You owe me one bastard!”
Johnathan’s spear was broken in half. Half of it was stuck in the orc’s left side. The captain charged forth shoving men forward to close the gaps desperately trying to keep the phalanx in order.
Fifteen minutes of barely holding the phalanx formation went on when Desmond noticed some of the orcs turning around. Desmond also noticed the arrows and guns stopped momentarily.
Johnathan then yelled out, “Cavalry! They’re riding in from the flanks!”
The knights began to ride into the charging orc horde from the left and right flanks knocking down the orcs like falling trees. As the cavalry drove into the orc horde, the Captain yelled, “Charge! Cut them down! Cut them down!”
Desmond and Johnathan charged forward yelling wildly.
Orcs were getting knocked down and killed. Some were wounded but were getting trampled to death by the horses or other orcs. Some of the cavalry were being cut down with spears and axes. Desmond also noticed as he was charging an orc, there was a knight getting his faced caved in by the massive fist of an orc. Desmond leaped onto that orc stabbing his sword viciously into the orc’s back and straight through the orc’ s heart. The orc fell limp as Desmond struggled to pull the sword out of the orc. Desmond looked down only to the see the knight was already dead. The face was crushed and caved in like a smashed watermelon. He spat on the orc and charged forward yelling wildly.
The orcs then counter-charged breaking the phalanx in some areas. The cavalry units were then stuck and bogged down by orcs and humans. Chaos and screaming was all that was heard.
A brawl formed.

