The Winter Legion Compendium: Dunes of Yohur

Creative Content Literature
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Forward

The Yohurian desert, a vast expanse of Sand, spans the entire center of the west continent, and makes up a fifth of it’s surface area. This massive lifeless waste is the home of one type of people, it is also the only feasible route to invade the north, unfortunately for invaders, the inhabitants don’t take kindly to trespassers.

Prologue

Lord Winter the first, looks over his famed enemies. One leader, at the head of 500 stoic desert warriors. The slog through the desert had been difficult, these warriors had been herding them to this site of battle, tracking them and using scouts to provide enticing targets. Winter sighs, this enemy was clever, he had to admit, but it would be over soon, no one plays with the Legion.

“Sound the attack” he says reaching for his bow

Chapter 1

This desert, is death incarnate Captain Gracten thought, he looks back at his company, all were regretting leaving the ship. Aye, our place is on the sea, he clears his throat dryly, “We press on, we must succeed, the invasion depends on it.” He notices a flash in the corner of his eye, a momentary spot of colour on the otherwise monotone sands, Gracten turns, but the apparition is gone. Just my imagination but he could no longer be sure, Winter couldn’t have mobilized troops this fast could he? No, that would be impossible, as well, the Legion doesn’t hide, they announce their presence, so no one can be mistaken of who has brought their end.

“Sir?” His lieutenant calls, “we found the Oasis”

“Good” Gracten croaks, “Let’s go”

I will be updating this on a (Hopefully) regular basis. CC welcome

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U better >:)

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I won’t let you down father.

The Oasis was a pleasant break from the hot sun. As he plunged into the frigid water, Gracten sighs in relief, his armour had almost been the death of him. He couldn’t imagine​ what his Soldiers must be feeling. Gracten plunges his helmet in, and uses it as a drinking vessel.

“Captain! Should we camp here for the night?” Lieutenant Maled calls

Not thinking, Gracten nods “Let the men rest up, then pitch our camp.” Little did he know, that was his worst mistake

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Tactically tactical double post is tactical

Chapter 1 ii

The dunes seemed to ■■■■■ in the night wind, each one desperate to confuse the unwary. Maled watches this spectacle with interest, it had helped him stay awake when his men obviously needed the rest. Maled was paying for his kindness, he knew he’d be marching on little sleep tomorrow. He yawns carefully to avoid inhaling the airborne sand, and just barely registers a flit on the edge of his vision. Suddenly wide awake and breathing heavily, he turns to see… nothing, he dismisses the vision as a figment of his sleep deprived mind.

Maled sighs, The Legion is halfway around the world anyway, Lord Winter left with all but one Regiment, he couldn’t be here. He breathes easier, Besides, with that bright white armour they don’t exactly blend in. Maled draws his sword, and retrieves his whetstone, quickly setting about working it’s edge. Another flit, just over his right shoulder, and he ignores it.

Maled has a sudden vision of red as the sands at his feet are sprayed with blood. He falls to the ground and rolls over to see an armoured, and cloaked figure standing over him, blade wet with his blood. He reaches for his signal horn, but he can’t feel it, he reaches a little further, and instead of his palm meeting it, the horn contacts his wrist where the hand would connect. Maled looks the warrior over him in the eyes, “Please, mercy”

The warrior says nothing as his blade chops down

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The Tactical triple post? Now that is something​I haven’t seen in a long, long time

Chapter 1 part iii

Gracten wakes to Maled’s death cry, he grabs his sword and brings it up just in time to meet two downwards chopping blades. Gracten’s sword rings, and he kicks his assailant away. His attacker, a man dressed in rags and mail, his two swords are curved in the desert style. The two analyze each other, and after a moment, the two lock blades again. Gracten backpedals, his opponent driving him back, step by step, until Gracten breaks his guard to take a heavy swipe at his opponents left, that leaves his own left open. Not missing such a golden opportunity, his opponent attacks this side with both blades, Gracten’s arm falls to the ground, but his blade passes through his opponents neck.

Gracten steps back, and looks at his left arm, below the elbow, where he’d once had a corporeal arm, there was a new one, made of pure light. He hold this up, “Men! To me!” He looks around for the first time and sees but a handful of his men still up and fighting, a paltry twelve of his once forty. They fight their way to a rough circle around him, and blades onward they stare at their opponents. The desert warriors encircle them, Gracten sees the fear in his men’s eyes. “Hold steadfast men, they will not approach.” He raises his left hand, and from his arm a beam of pure energy races out to connect with one of his opponents. A scream, a flash, then simply nothing left, the man hit is simply gone.

The desert warrior’s retreat is as swift as their attack.

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Tactically Tactical Quadrouple post is tactical, and rare

Chapter 2

The dust surrounds all, blowing at speeds to scour the flesh off bones if one were careless enough to expose any. Pitiful noises are made by the poor beasts of burden the long train uses in carrying it’s supplies, desprate handlers hastily try and cover the poor horses with blankets and large swaths of cloth.

Gracten presses on through this, caring not as sand whipped by his bared forearms, leaving long cuts through the flesh. The only effect such had was that more light spilled out of him.

His new Lieutnant struggles against the wind to get up beside him, “This reminds me of my home sir, on the southern cluster, only our winds are quite a bit more… well wet”

“I was from there too, I lived on a small island, I owned the whole thing, of course, thaat was before…” he stops talking, his grief constricting his throat.

“Aye sir, I remember” he is silent too “Ah, it’s been too long since I’ve had a deck beneath my boots, the gentle sway of the ocean to rock me to sleep”

Gracten smiles, “I miss that too, this desert is harsh, and she doesn’t like intruders”

“What kind of resistance can we expect in Yohur?”

“The Guard, but not much else, they don’t have a garrison at the moment” Gracten sighs, “Why summer doesn’t just send in the fleet is anyone’s guess”

“Must be the Death Empire Battlefleet that’s gathering” His lieutenant spits to the side

“What’s your name?” Gracten enquires

"Haven’t earned one sir, haven’t been in battle yet he wipes his mouth, “I should earn one at Yohur”

Gracten nods, a Summer Armadian didn’t have a name till after their first battle, so this was nothing new to him “May you choose a good one”

“Thank you sir, I have a few ideas”

“Well don’t tell me, it’s bad luck”

The Lieutanant nods and keeps walking

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Quintuple Post is tactical so therefore allowed, (Can’t wait for a Sixtuple post, and possibly a septuple post)
Chapter 2 ii

Gracten staggers over a sand dune, he wipes some blood from his armour. Wiping his eyes Gracten releases a dry sob, so many good men lost.

“Sir are you alright?” His lieutenant runs up the Sandy slope to his side. The cool shade he provides offers a slight respite from the light caused by the sun.

“I’m fine” Gracten lies, “Let’s keep moving, we’re a single day away from Yohur” He pushes himself to his feet.

Striding through the dunes, soldiers at his back, the commander saunters forward. “The Summer Armadians are fools to think they can survive this escapade of theirs”

“Mirage, should we not close with them?” A soldier asks stepping forward.

“no, the desert will kill them, we’re done before we fall into the same fate” Mirage turns and waves his soldiers after him, “To the stronghold”