Turner closed his eyes and breathed in deeply to calm his nerves. He hummed to himself a tune that he always sang to the barn animals back at his family's farm whenever wolves howled in the night. A few gentle scritches were usually enough to calm the beasts down, but on nights when the wolves howled for longer than usual, the cows, sheep, and chickens would become restless and his soft caresses wouldn't suffice. On nights like those, Turner would sing a lullaby that his mother used to sing to him. For a farm boy, Turner had a melodious voice that could soothe even the grumpiest animals in the barn without failure. He would sometimes even lull himself to sleep with his own voice.
His voice was a very useful tool back at the farm, but it proved useless for Turner's current situation. He was in a large plain along with thousands of others, hundreds of kilometers away from home, and wearing thick, padded leather armor that reeked of old sweat. His hands which used to give loving caresses to his barn animals now wielded a spear and a shield. Turner's hands trembled from the fear, but he tried to stomp it down by humming his tune. It didn't provide the tranquility he sought, so he opened his mouth to sing in hopes that he could achieve calm by saying the lyrics.
The cute little lamb went out to play in the grass He jumped, he skipped, he ran so fast The shepherd warned him to stay within the fence The little lamb bleated, his joy immense
The little lamb reached the white fence, a vast world beyond He wondered what lay there, where he has never gone The little lamb bleated in curiosity Then turned his back on the great white boundary
A twig snapped and the little lamb turned around Behold, a beast bigger than a hound It sniffed and prowled and uttered a growl The little lamb cried in fear at a beast so foul
But the beast was outside the fence and the little lamb inside He was always safe where the shepherd resides But the beast broke the fence and clamped its jaws on his neck The little lamb whined and cried for help
The shepherd heard the plea and came running To save the little lamb from the foul beast's hunting Bu—
“Shut the fuck up!” a thunderous voice bellowed.
Turner immediately shut his mouth as an imposing man riding atop a horse loomed before him. He wore the same style of leather armor as Turner with a small patch on his breast signifying his rank as a commander.
“This is no nursery for you to sing your children's rhymes, boy,” the man said gruffly as he turned to face the rest of the soldiers in Turner's battalion. “Men! Today is the day that we reclaim what is rightfully ours! This land has long been held by the thieving Ocranians for decades, but we shall tolerate their theft no longer! Raise your heads high, for all of you have the privilege of fighting for Edria's freedom and sovereignty!”
Turner quietly listened to the commander shout the justifications that their army had in moving against Ocrana, but like the other men around him, he didn't sympathize. He was simply a farm boy forcefully conscripted by the press gangs. He held no ire for the Ocranians who never bothered him or his farm.
But his thoughts regarding the matter were irrelevant and pointless. Turner was a conscript and he would either die from Ocranian blades on the battlefield or from Edrian arrows if he ever decided to desert. I am a mere speck of dust, Turner thought as the commander reached the end of his speech. In this world, only the powerful have the freedom to make their own choices. While we mere commoners can only choose to obey or die.
“Wait for the signal!” the commander finally shouted as he finished his speech. “When you hear the horn, then the battle begins! May the Holy Mother be with us all!”
And then the commander was off, his horse bringing him to the very back of the lines.
Turner closed his eyes and tried once more to calm himself, but he eventually realized it was pointless. Nothing can truly calm a man who knows he is minutes away from certain death.
Turner looked at the other men around him. All of them had the same fearful expression on their faces as they waited for the blowing of the war horn. Turner was one of more than thirty-thousand soldiers in the field, but the knowledge of their side's numbers didn't give him an ounce of comfort. Their side could have a hundred or a million soldiers and Turner still wouldn't care.
Because he was part of the army's Forlorn Hope.
In large-scale military operations, there was always the need for a vanguard, the first wave of troops that would bravely charge the enemy lines and take the brunt of their defenses. It was called the Forlorn Hope, and Turner found the name fitting. The Forlorn Hope's members usually consisted of volunteers. It was not the case for Turner and the other men around him.
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A cool wind blew across the plain and a grim finality fell upon Turner. For the first time since he stood in formation, he looked at the other side of the plains where their enemies waited for them.
In contrast to Edria's conscripted army, the ranks of the Ocranian army stood in flawless formation. Their soldiers stood straight and their chins were raised high. Compared to Edria's soldiers, the Ocranian army's morale was high, for the stakes of the war was their homeland itself.
“H-Hey,” the man beside Turner stuttered. He was a thin man and his helmet didn't exactly fit his head. “That song you were singing earlier… did the little lamb survive?”
Turner stared at the thin man dumbfoundedly, but before he could reply, the long, ominous bellow of the war horn echoed throughout the plains. The battle had begun.
I don't want to die, Turner thought as he started running along with the other men in the Forlorn Hope. The strong wind whipped at his face as light rain pelted his cheeks. Wait, it's not rain, Turner realized. It was his tears, streaking along the sides of his face as he ran.
The other men in the Forlorn Hope screamed their war cries as they charged, but the fury in their shouts didn't match the terrified expressions on their faces.
The enemy is so far away, Turner thought. There must have been more than a kilometer of distance between them and the Ocranian army. He still had plenty of time before they clashed. Plenty of time to try and desert.
The bright glare of the sun over the wide plains suddenly dimmed. Turner looked up in confusion for the skies had been completely clear before the signal to charge had been given. He almost choked on his own saliva.
The sky ahead of them was filled with thousands of arrows, all of them flying straight for their position. It was a cloud of death descending upon them, and there was no escape from it.
The thin man running beside Turner also saw their imminent doom and completely lost it. He turned his manic gaze on Turner. “I don't want to die! I'm sorry!”
Turner was completely caught by surprise when the thin man suddenly punched him in the face. Turner stumbled and felt the thin man moving beneath his falling body. The thin man was going to use Turner as a meat shield.
The thin man's plan went into disarray when the charging men behind them caught up to their position. Turner became an obstruction and caused other men to trip over him. He groaned in pain as his body repeatedly got battered by the charging soldier's boots as they tripped, knocking him around and turning everything around him into a confusing jumble.
At some point, Turner thought he'd turned blind when his vision got dark. He couldn't breathe properly as well, as if a powerful force was pressing down on his body, but he could still hear. He heard the pained groans of the men around him as well as their horrified shouts when the arrows finally came upon them.
Men screamed and gurgled as thousands of arrows pierced their bodies. Turner thrashed and struggled, thinking that he was being pierced by the arrows, but when no pain came, he finally realized his situation. He wasn't blind. He was buried underneath the bodies of the men who tripped over him earlier.
Turner stayed still. The rain of arrows was still going and trying to dig himself out would only lead to his death. Mama, I want to go home.
For half a minute, Turner had no choice but to listen to the sounds of death. He could hear the noises of the steel-tipped arrows ripping through the soft flesh of men, the continuous thudding of footsteps as the Forlorn Hope continued their charge, and the wails of the dying men unfortunate enough to survive the barrage. Throughout all this, the bodies above Turner had begun leaking their blood, dripping into his face and mouth, but he uttered no complaint. I miss my friends in the barn. I want to see them again.
The arrow barrage finally abated. Turner slowly dug his way through the bodies above him and peeked his head out to see the state of the battle. He spotted the thin man who punched him earlier. The man was not lucky enough to end up underneath the pile of bodies like Turner was.
In the distance, what remained of the Forlorn Hope had reached the first ranks of the Ocranian army and had already engaged in battle. They stood no chance, but their survival was never expected anyway. Their purpose was to take the brunt of the attack and distract the enemy as the main army marched forward.
And march forward the Edrian army did.
Unlike the conscripts, the main Edrian army was better-equipped and better-trained. They marched in formation, their armor glistening in the sun. When they reached the field where most of the Forlorn Hope fell to the arrows, their formation did not falter. They marched relentlessly, trampling the corpses beneath their steel sabatons with nary a care.
Please, help me, Turner thought. He did not escape the arrow barrage unscathed. When the charging men tripped over him earlier, his body was battered relentlessly. He couldn't get up.
“Help… me…” Turner called weakly to the Edrian army, but when they reached his position, the soldiers did not spare a glance at his pathetic figure. Like the rest of the corpses, they marched on his body without mercy, breaking his bones and crushing his limbs.
Turner sobbed as pain ravaged his body.
Help me.
A boot crushed his left hand.
Please, I just want to go home.
A soldier stepped on his stomach, making him throw up bile and blood.
I don't want to die…
His head got kicked to the side by a random foot.
Help… me… help… me…
…
…
…
HELP ME!
There was a distant roar. Turner, who was on the verge of losing consciousness, heard it faintly. He felt a faint tugging at his consciousness that led to the direction of the roar. He didn't know what the tugging was, but he instinctually knew that it led to friends.
The roar came again, this time accompanied by dozens of others, and Turner realized it came from the distant forest east of the battlefield. By this time, the two armies had already clashed, but even they stopped when they heard the bestial roars.
Then from the treeline emerged a giant humanoid creature with green-tinged skin. It was completely naked and held a large wooden club as a weapon, dragging it across the ground as it stared at the armies with an intense gaze. Then despite the distance, the creature's eyes unerringly landed on Turner's fallen form and it roared in outrage before charging toward the armies.
“Troll!” a soldier shouted in alarm.
But the troll wasn't the only monster to emerge from the forest. A large pack of dire wolves came next, followed by the larger wargs. Man-sized snakes and reptiles came after, and then a whole family of Grisly Bears.
“It's just a monster attack!” an Edrian commander shouted. “Continue the assault against the Ocranians while the 16th Battalion intercepts the monster wave!”
Like a well-oiled machine, the Edrian army smoothly shifted their formations to meet the oncoming monster wave and Ocranian army simultaneously.
Then the sound of skittering legs came. It originated from the forest, but even from hundreds of meters away, both armies heard it clearly and froze. In the distance, the head of a giant ant emerged from the treeline.
“Ant colony!” the Edrian commander shouted hysterically. “Ant colony! Retreat! Retreat!”
Both armies immediately issued orders to retreat to their troops, and just in time as well. The lone giant ant that emerged from the forest was soon followed by thousands of its brethren, their insectile legs making skittering noises as they moved across the plains like a red tide.
The two opposing armies watched from afar as the congregation of monsters descended upon the corpses on the field. The beasts started feasting on the bodies like a gruesome buffet while the ants carried the bodies back to their colony.
On that day, the Edrian army tallied their losses and made a list of their dead to inform their families. On one of the lists was the name Turner Kreel.
End of Act 2 - A Puppet's Haven