//------------------------------// // Grazi rolls a 0, Hett rolls a 9 // Story: The Iron Chancellor // by Radical Centrist //------------------------------// Grazis' army had marched through the forest for a day, he had ordered his soldiers to never disperse in the forests, as doing so would allow his enemies to pick off his force one-by-one. He knew that in a day he would arrive at the outskirts of the village, yet he felt an uneasy presence following him. His elite guard grew concerned at Grazis' behaviour, as he would erratically look around as if to find a phantom threat, and would unsheathe his sword in random intervals or at the faintest of noises. "Are you alright sir?" The guard asked, concerned with the accelerating paranoia of their warlord. "Y-yes! Sorry... I just can't believe the warlord is not sending an army to destroy us..." Grazi assured his guards, "Perhaps he has better things to worry about? Or perhaps he has choked on a bone?" The guard cheekily replied, garnering a hearty laugh from his comrades. Grazi chuckled lightly. "He must be too busy with his countless consists and slaves!" A common soldier chimed in from the back, "Too busy raiding his own villages!" Another called out, "Yes, yes, we will make him pay! Grazi will lead us to victory!" The guards rallied on, which made the soldiers cheer in Grazis' name. Grazi upon being praised began to relax, perhaps the warlord really don't care... If that's the case... I bless my luck! The army kept on marching. Not knowing that they were being watched. "Bring me the telephone," A proned sergeant whispered to his squad, who in turn passed him a speaker from a box whose wires extended beyond the forests. "This is squad alpha, we have spotted the enemy approaching our positions. 200 metres to our North." "We've got your grid, we are ready to give you artillery support." The artillerists responded, slightly adjusting the angles of their guns. Hett had been listening to the conversations between the squads and the artillery and was relieved to know that the marching army had not deviated in their path toward the city. However, he did still worry about the armoured squad, as they did not have any forms of communications except for flyers with letters. He had to hope that they would arrive fast enough to block the enemys' retreat from the back. Sergeant Gunter peering from his hatch, as his armoured cars were tumbling through the uneven terrain. He was optimistic about how quickly his squad could join the battle, however, he had to stop multiple times to lift several cars that had gotten stuck on the roots or branches, as they became wedged in between the wheels. His optimism decayed away for every stop he had to make, as he could not just abandon them in the forests, or else face Bismarcks' wrath. But in doing so, he would be late to the battle and his delay might sabotage the enforcement of the enemy. Gunter remained indecisive and continued until two more cars became stuck, and made him think about the best course of action. "Sir, at this rate we will be unable to reach our destination in time. Should send a letter to tell them we won't be able to participate at the start of the battle?" A corporal asked, grabbing an empty letter in his claws. Gunter thought about the offer, but decided against it, as he decided to do something unconventional. "Gunners, dismount and go ahead of our squad. You will secure our line until we arrive, at which point you will take up your gunner positions and carry on as normal." Gunter ordered, which was answered with confused stares and disbelief, but they quickly regained discipline, and followed their orders, dismounting their gun and flying forwards, ahead of the armoured column. Any minute now... Gunter thought, as one of his cars became unstuck, but the other still hopelessly immobile. Grazis' griffs were marching enthusiastically, morales high, weapons held high and chest puffed out in pride. Hetts' squads were all hidden well, entrenched and machine guns primed and ready to fire at the unsuspecting looters. All of their safeties were off, their rifles' sights all lined up towards their target, their smgs' beside them to dispatch any fearless chargers. "-so I told the guy it was either his money or his life," One of Grazis' militiagriff said, garnering several stifled chuckles from the other griffons nearby. "And guess what he says!" He continued. "What?" A guard chimed in, not getting the joke. "No! Take it from me if you can!" The militiagriff said with a broken accent as if too poorly imitate the victims' voice. "And guess what I did to him," "What?" The guard tiredly asked as he didn't find the joke funny at all. "I KILLED H-" the griffons' forehead exploded with blood, his chin dropping down to his neck, and crumbling down onto the ground. The griffons who witnessed this were either too terrified to move, or frozen by shock. "OPEN FIRE!!!" A voice boomed out from the bushy surroundings, followed by the sound of many small explosions going off around them. Sparks from their weapons and armour began to appear, as lightning-fast yellow bolts zipped past them, many hitting their marks which sent them down, crying in pain. "AMBUSH! EVERYGRIFF PUT YOUR SHIELDS UP! THEY HAVE CROSSBOWS!" A guard shouted out, attempting to rally the peasants together to fight against a conventional ambush. "SHIELDS DOESN'T WORK! THEY AREN'T CROSSBOWS!" An armoured soldier screamed, his shields up, but the bullets penetrating it easily, to pepper him with its splinters. "FIRE BACK! FIRE YOUR CROSSBOWS!" A guard futilely ordered, aiming his crossbow to the general direction of the enemy, but its bolts got stuck on the thick bushes, rendering them useless. "WE ARE LOST! THE WARLORDS HAVE COME FOR VENGEANCE!" A militagriff cried out, "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" "HALT! HOLD THE LINE! DO NOT RETREAT!" Grazi furiously screamed, slashing a fleeing peasant, whose comrades didn't even bat an eye, as they were too busy running to notice it. The levies within Grazis' army all began running towards the way they had come from, ditching their weapons to move faster, some tried to fly, but they were easily noticed by the guards, and cut down by their own allies. The levies' spirits slightly lifted, as the noise of guns firing began to die down as they were running. However, another noise soon replaced it. Several metallic wagons emerged from the bushes, its wheels crushing the weak twigs and trees from its path, and stopping in front of the levies' view. The levies froze, as many stopped out of fear but a few in confusion. Were they moving on its own?! they all thought, and they began to fear it was the warlords'. They barely noticed 6 griffons flying over and dropping themselves into the hatches of the encased wagons and closing it. "What are they doin-" the levies' words were cut off by a hail of bullets, as the armoured cars opened fire point-blank at the gathered griffons. Feathers began to fire aimlessly through the air, as the bullets collided with the wings, making the scene look like a bloody pillow-fight. "It's hopeless my lord! We must flee!" A guard told Grazi, holding onto his shoulders with his bloodied claws. Grazi swung around furiously and swiped the guards' neck, spewing his blood all over Grazis' armour. "THERE WILL BE NO RETREAT! NO SURRENDE-" Grazis' shouts were cut off by a swing from his guards' shield, fracturing his beak and shutting him up. "ARE YOU BLIND?! We must run, or else we won't live to fight again!" He scolded his superior. Grazis' recollected himself and thought logically to what he should do in this situation, as the guard was right. His luck had run out, and he had to flee once more to escape annihilation. "A-alright! ALL GRIFFS TAKE TO THE SKIES!" Grazi shouted, reinvigorated and thinking rationally. What sorcery did the warlords employ for such firepower?! Grazi thought, as he and his soldiers began to fly upwards, away from the crossfire on the ground. Several of the guards and remaining levies who were too injured were carried, their wings visibly riddled with bloody holes and blood flowing down freely down to their chin. Thankfully, the gunfire seemed to die down as they climbed up to the skies, passing the branches of the tallest trees, to finally elevate high enough to touch the clouds and leave the forest grounds. "LISTEN UP! THE ENEMY MIGHT STILL CHASE US THROUGH THE SKIES! SO DITCH YOUR ARMOUR AND INJURED! WE HAVE NO TIME TO WASTE!" Grazi announced, which made the injured griffons who were being carried look towards him in disbelief, as their comrades who had helped them were starting to slip them off their grasp. "WHAT?! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" Juan furiously objected, which made the Griffin's holding the injured rethink their decisions. "IF YOU WANT TO LIVE! YOU WILL AND FOLLOW ME!" Grazi threatened, which made them all drop their armour and the injured too. Juan saw several of his comrades being dropped and dived into the ground to catch them, which made Grazi shake his head in disappointment. Such foolish behaviour... Unfit for a leader. Grazi evaluated, as he watched the last of his soldiers drop their armour and really towards him. All the howitzers and field artillery were loaded up with shrapnel shells. They had driven just outside the forests, atop a hill aiming towards the skies, just above the forests. The operators on the guns were all holding their breath, holding an extra shell to immediately load after the fire, and the string was held tightly to pull as soon as they were given the signal. A griffon held a telephone close to his ears, the other being covered by his other claw. He needed extreme concentration to ensure that the artillery had the greatest effe- "NOW!" 40 guns immediately fired, 10 being ear-shattering whilst the 30 field guns being slightly more tolerable to the ears. Immediately after this, the breach was opened and the shell extracted to make way for the prepared shell with machine-like precision. Another volley of guns was fired to coat the forest skies with lead. Juan dived incorrectly, as he hit a tree accidentally whilst focusing too much on trying to catch the falling griffon. He touched his beak and felt it broken and began to sob quietly. What cruel world would subject me to this awful fate? He thought, as he laid back against the branch on the tree he collided with, and became limp as he didn't want to try anymore. Too much pain... Juan looked at the skies, to see Grazi and his murderous gang grouping up. Juan cursed Grazi for subjecting his people to death, but he also cursed the warlords below for not chasing down Grazi. Even in defeat, his luck has no bounds... Juans' tears began rolling down from his eyes, as injustices like this were never punished, and encouraged in his world. He closed his eyes. And it began raining? He opened his eyes, but then a piece of griffons' guts landed on his opened eyes. "URGH! -What the?!" Juan fumbled the intestines out of his eyes and was able to do it easily without pain thanks to griffons' layers of protection on their eyes. He then looked up. Juan saw a shower of blood raining down from the skies, shredded bodies with open torsos which spilt out guts and organs that fell and hanged on the branches or bounced off to hit the ground. "W-what's going on?!" Juan yelled, horrified by the scenery that was unfolding in front of him. Several puffs of smoke then exploded in the air, and he could feel it this time, as several shrapnels tore through the branch he was lying on, causing it to fall alongside him towards the ground. "S-sh-sh-SHIT!" Juan cried, but he could not unfold his wings quick enough to lessen his fall and was knocked out by hitting his head on a rock. Grazi, at one moment, was surrounded by his loyal soldiers, but after a blink, they had all become shreds of skin, organs and feathers, as several explosions rang beside them, spitting shrapnel at their exposed skins. Grazi spun out of control in the air, as one of his wings were cut clean-off by shrapnel. Another round of explosions would lodge another shrapnel into his lungs, which made him immediately accelerate towards the ground, as he could no longer futilely beat his wings. He plummeted on a sea of corpses that cushioned his fall, the side of his body that hit the ground first being covered completely in fresh, warm blood. He pushed himself up, and collapsed sitting against a tree, coughing violently with pieces of his own lungs and blood escaping from his beak. "I did everything right..." Grazi cried towards the skies. "I had planned every outcome..." Grazi coughed out, blood splattering on his already-soaked torso. "Apparently not everything." An unknown griffon replied, slowly approaching him with guns drawn. "Wh- *cough* -are you?" Grazi asked the smirking griffin who was now standing in front of him. "The name's Hett! Any last words?" He said, aiming the barrels at Grazis' torso. "*cough* *cough*... Fuck yo-" Hett didn't let him finish, as he emptied his entire magazine into Grazis' body, blood splattering everywhere and expelling more blood from Grazis' lungs. Grazi twitched and flipped himself over. He wheezed, and finally closed his eyes. The warlord never stood a chance.