The Last Stand

The walls of the keep shuddered as the war machines continued their advance on our walls. Our defenders were strong, but the attackers were vast, scrambling up our defense and finally laying waste to the last of our men on the walls. I looked around to count only fifty of us remained behind the keeps interior walls, waiting eagerly for the doors to be smashed open. I could taste the rapid sweat growing on my lip, gripping my battle axe tightly against my chest waiting for my chance to split as many heads as possible before I fell. A loud roar erupted from behind us as our Lord Grisbane “The Tainted One” stood among us with his greatsword a massive hunk of iron more blunt than sharp, lifted high above his head. He was covered head to toe in malicious tattoos, honoring our God the “forbidden one.” He strode in the center of our group, wearing only a chained kilt and nothing else. “Hear my words!” Grisbane spoke. “When the king’s whoresons break through our door what will they find?” His words booming, echoing off the chamber’s long hall, the last of us honorable few all raised our voices in unison for this was our code “They will find only us bloodied and damned!”

The door slammed, almost giving way, as one of our strongest, Varun, unclipped his chest plate and rushed alone to the door to keep the assailants at bay just a bit longer. I looked as he growled and began to take on a new grisly, beastly form. Grisbane was unfaltering, not letting his certain demise take away from our glory. “What will our last act be on our enemies Bloodied?” Men began banging their shields or there chestplate all at once. “We will bleed them dry!” Another massive quake shook our keep as our massive ironwood door began to splinter but Varun had now let his beast blood take over. He stood eight feet tall, covered in golden fur and bulging muscles. He continued to press the door back as drool could be seen exuding from his now blackened toothy snout. Grisbane walked toward Varun, turning his back on the door to stare down the rest of us once more. “We will die today my sons! Let none who enter here today speak of cowardice nor of victory!” Grisbane strode down the line making eye contact with each one of his last few defenders on the frontline.

“The survivors will not sing their triumphant stories; they will only tell of a massacre, and the defense, of how the few surviving sons of beast blood refused their pathetic king’s decree!” Everyone roared in a cheer and weapons were raised. We were ready to lay down our lives for we were the last few devoted. Grisbane knew this, and when I looked into his eyes, I saw one single tear run down his face to his wolfish grin. It was not one of a sad man, unhappy with his fate, but one of pride. Pride for the warriors who stood before him. Pride for our sacrifice in his name. Individually, we were all just blood lusting wolfs, cornered alone in this damp keep but with Grisbane our prideful lion in the pack we were a family.

“Let’s not keep our God waiting then! Let loose the doors and send these dogs to hell!” Grisbane took the defense with us in the front, not letting us hog all the kills. Varun let out a mighty roar as he lifted the beam holding the gate closed. The door was rushed instantly. It was like a tidal wave of metal rushed through, as Varun quickly jumped above the door, latching onto the wall above to flank, the now charging enemy. They were about twenty feet from our front line and were closing the distance fast. My mind raced to the events that led us here. The once proud Bloodied, the military unit in service of the king, to defend his lands no matter the cost. The elite of the elite brought low because of our unnatural abilities, and our now forsaken God. Grisbane was given the choice to put us down, but as he once bluntly stated to our false king “I only put down dogs, I will set my wolfs free.” Almost in range to engage, all of us up front kept our form while some behind us chose to die as the wolf, changing rapidly, trading their axes and swords for tooth and claw. Grisbane barked his command, and the front line took up our shields dropping our two-handed battles axes and swords to take up our one-handed side arms to confuse our enemy. I thought back to when we were standing defiantly at our walls only a few short hours ago. When we were all given a choice to bend the knee and trade in our old beliefs for our paranoid kings’ new ones, none of us faltered.

The tidal wave of man was upon us, they smashed into our shield wall. Hundreds poured in to take on us valiant few, and we reveled in it. Not an inch was given as Grisbane let out a howl and our animalistic brethren jumped over our heads and into the fray. Varun, our giant monster, descended on their flank. Each swath of his massive arms uprooted dozens of the King’s men in bloody carnage, all too surprised to take up a guard and they paid dearly for it. Screams and panic rose through the ranks of our enemy as our shield wall roared “Hoo-Ah!” and began to push them back. With each step we hacked, and with each halt we blocked a rain of frantic blows. That’s when I saw our first fall. A black wolf had been skewered by a dozen spears and howled his last. Grisbane let out a hearty laugh amongst the cries and shouted “Loose!” Our frontline bashed our shield’s, pushing out our enemy a few feet back. Our opponent’s astonished we still had the strength to pull such a maneuver. Our shields dropped and we tackled our foe, taking up another weapon or choosing the claw, this maneuver was desperate, however we were emboldened by the fact that this was it. Our last stand, and let not one see we did not bravely meet it. I heard the assailants’ shrill cries, squealing and fleeing as new adversaries rose to replace them. I saw Varun courageously fight with only one arm now and slowly bleed out, letting no-one find weakness in his last moments. We slowly all followed and hit the ground, now soaked with blood and bodies.

By now, I had killed so many I lost count. But my strength waned, and a sword came down and chopped my shield hand off. I howled in the face of the perpetrator and spit in his face and brought my axe down cleaving his face. A spear went through my chest, followed by another in my groin. This was it, as my axe found purchase in another of my foe’s necks, decapitating him, followed by my axe arm being sliced horribly, now it was hanging to my side; useless. I felt the cold embrace of death start to take me as I dropped to my knees, laughing while choking on my own blood. I would laugh in the face of death and dared the grim reaper to take me. The last I saw before I would run in the endless hunt of my God’s realm was our best Grisbane. He had taken his form of the lion, his once glorious golden mane soaked in blood. He was on his knees, taking blow after blow. “I will not falter!” He roared and took one knee up, “I will not serve on my knees to you whores!” I could no longer see him as men jumped all over him, and then were instantly launched off as he let the last of his might shine through. He stood for one last moment, defiantly as we locked eyes one final time.

I heard Grisbane’s voice in my head. “Go now child, meet me in our forsaken gods’ lands so we shall revel in our valiant last stand.” I saw a dozen spears be launched into Grisbane as he shuddered his last roar and finally broke. “They will remember” I whispered until death took me.

The End.