|Series:||Blazes of Triumph|
|Main Characters||Junkers, Malvonik|
|Enemy:||United Wildernessans to Restore the Wilderness|
|Following Story:||The New Guy|
Out in the middle of nowhere, among the seemingly endless scorched black areas, one had caught the eye of the Asgarnian Army. A sector dubbed as "Clan Wars", because of the battles fought in the Third Age at that location, was key to stop the latest radical group. Once again, the Wildernessans had united, and once again, openly declared war on a much more organized foe. Asgarnia couldn't just back down from a war they could easily handle. Accept a challenge from some extremists, take the field before they do, slaughter them when they're not looking. Easy right?
That's how it seemed. Parts one and two were done, now the Asgarnian Army just had to slaughter an enemy they had yet to engage with- or even locate.
Before they could move out, the soldiers on point had to get a feel for the area of the lightly traversed area. Having set camp a day, maybe two, earlier, the men weren't that in sync.
Up on watch over the flat and blank median of Clan Wars were Privates in full Runite, Junkers and Malvonik. They leisurely leaned on from in front the very archers' defenses they were supposed to be behind to watch the enemy from, helmets off, weapons down, the whole bit.
Junkers dumped the live ashes from his cigarette onto the ground, and blankly looked around. "I don't even see why we should have paid attention to these neanderthals."
Malvonik sat down, tired of standing. He used his arms to support his slouching, also blankly looking around. "In two days now, we haven't seen a single one of these guys." He paused for a bit. "Even back at camp, there's a lava pit. A stinking laval pit. Are you kidding me? What if someone falls in there?"
There was an awkward silence.
"Is our shift done yet?"
"Not for another hour, at least." Malvonik sighed.
The two sat there, wishing they were back home in Falador. Doing something, anything, other than waiting on point. Their wishes would soon come true.
A force of at least 300 Wildernessans started to move behind the trees. Junkers and Malvonik didn't notice them out of their boredom. A team of three archers slowly came out of the trees visible off on the other side of the median. They drew their bows, pulled their arrows, and fired.
In near unison, one hit Junkers in the neck, blocking his airway, one missed his legs, and one missed Malvonik. Junkers started squirming around, trying to call for help and to stop the bleeding, but he couldn't.
The unwounded soldier rolled over the top of the defense for cover, then leaned back over and pulled his dying comrade over too. He got his Rune halberd, took the covering cloth off, and held it close to him, expecting a hostile to come over the defense, where he could easily stab them. A few seconds went by, and Malvonik realized that no enemies were coming.
Even more importantly, Junkers was still bleeding out, the blood now dripping down to his platelegs.
Not even sure if his buddy could hear him, Malvonik tried to assure him. "Junk, I'll be right back. Gonna' get us reinforcements!" And with that, he went off running back toward the camp, passing one of the lava pits.
He was wrong about the hostiles. They were coming, but they had to reload. Now much closer, the three archers aimed at Malvonik right after he got running, fired, and collectively hit him three times in the back. He stumbled down, and fell into the lava. He grabbed on to the rim of the pit with his hands, but it wasn't even half a second until he let go. The heat was so extreme that he could not dare hold on, especially with his platebody melting onto his skin.
Junkers saw it all. He coughed up a little blood trying to scream, but he couldn't. He just sat there, and died.
With the watchmen out and the camp not knowing up the fatalities, the Wildernessans advanced. They broke up into several units, and encircled the camp for the most part, forming a relative U. The archers, crossbowmen and mages all picked their targets. And when Colonel Zaspas gave the signal, they all opened fire on the Asgarnian battalion.
Even though the Asgarnians outnumbered the Wildernessans four-to-one in this case, the element of surprise was so surprising that it didn't matter. Arrows came in from all directions. Tents were set ablaze. Major Walmeer, the commanding officer, was especially targeted. He flung around like a ragdoll from all the hits he took.
Surprise can only work for so long, though. After no more than a minute, the Asgarnians started retaliating. Being better trained, better armed and having numbers on their side, they killed the ambushers one by one.
The ambushing forces withdrew to their side of the median. Right behind them were the Asgarnians. Little known to them, though, there was 50 or so more archers who stayed in the median. Once the main force had fallen back behind the 50 men, they let the arrows fly.
The Asgarnians were wasted all over. Any who continued to charge were wasted too. Everyone else fled back to the camp, which was on a lowered area, which would block the vision of the archers.
Once the last of the Asgarnians soldiers were out of sight, the last of the Wildernessans fell back. They knew what destruction they wrought. Heavy casualties for the Asgarnians. Maybe even up to 70%. The C.O. killed-in-action. Minimal casualties for themselves.Back at the base, close to no one came out unwounded. Of the few groups of men left from the battalion, most were bleeding, some even missing limbs. Two unwounded men were sent to Varrock, the nearest town, for help. They would need reinforcements, medical support and relief immediately if any of them wanted to live.