Tyradel: Bellowing Flames

"Ack! Ancients damn it! Urza forces closing in sir, and fast!" Private First Class Denrio Evictus shouted over the exploding shells and ceaseless gunfire that erupted into the atmosphere. The loud grinding of tank treads and overhead roars of Griffon fighter planes split the air. Captain Bosch Vaneers crouched low, hovering over a recently deceased corporal; he was taken to High Realm by way of a bullet to the head. The captain peered around the corner, barely evading a large metal spike that ripped into the structure of the building he sought cover behind. There was a massive wave of these monsters, armored in a hefty rust-colored metal that made them appear even more imposing. They were large beasts, standing, at average, at least seven to eight feet tall. Their gnarled faces illustrated hatred, and their prowling, twisted and thorny tanks embodied much of that hatred. Shells erupted into the ground, ripping concrete and causing a rain of grit. Captain Vaneers turned to his lieutenant, Beriam Tersis, a Hir'zan of great merit. He was a brave and loyal high elf, but now his face painted a troubled spirit. A heavy, sinking frown and wide,terrified green eyes locked onto his captain's face. "Tersis, I need you to retrieve the Ram," Vaneers said plainly, pointing across the street into an alleyway full of fallen comrades. Atop one of these dead men was a large metal cylinder, green in color: the Ram, a missile launcher that ejected high impact explosive projectiles that had the strength to rip bunkers apart. Vaneers continued, "We'll provide cover fire. You get over there, arm that damned thing, and blast these monsters back to the Underrealm where they came from! Move quick, and don't you dare die on me. That's an order! Now move!"

Beriam's heart was pulsating, much like the gunfire that pierced the atmosphere around him. He held his rifle tightly, his knuckles growing an anticipated white. He was scared, he knew. But he had made a career of not letting his captain down, and he wasn't about to end that career now, dead in the streets of this war-torn city. He waited for his captain's order, and cover fire was unleashed upon the enemy. Beriam sprinted, unsure that his feet even touched the ground at all. He swerved, ducked, and stumbled as he avoided death by mere centimeters. He was just feet away from his objective, when life as he knew it took a sudden and unexpected turn upside-down. He was on his back, groggy and bleary-eyed. He saw double, triple of the clouds above him. Turning his head to the right, he saw the advancing hordes of the Urza. 'Move it, Tersis!,' he shouted mentally. 'Move, for your father's sake!' He practically glided to his feet and dove for cover into the alley. He hit the pavement hard but stayed focused. Adrenaline pushed its way through his veins like a speeding bullet, and his thoughts were on one thing: completion. He heaved the Ram from the corpse of the human soldier, and briefly bid him a safe journey to High Realm before grasping one of the missiles that lay scattered on the ground. Beriam jammed one of the projectiles down the tunnel of a weapon, arming the lethal tube and shouldering it. Preesed his back against the wall of the building; his safe place, for now. He closed his eyes, inhaled and sighed. 'Ancients pardon my sins as I stare into the face of death, never wavering, never faltering. Should I fall, guide me swiftly and safely to your everlasting embrace in High Realm. This I beg in your uttermost mercy. Save me.' His mental prayer complete, Beriam whipped around the corner and fired. There was a large kick, and Beriam was thrown to the ground. The Ram clattered to his side, and the missile flew through the air, producing a loud, ear-shattering boom. The arrow-shaped missile whisped through the air. Several Urza screaming in fear and dove to the ground. They left one of their tanks open for destruction. It was ripped asunder before exploding in a firestorm of destruction. A fraction of the advancing Urza were consumed by flames, shrieking in agony as the realization of doom washed over them. Beriam could only watch, and grin at his luck as the charred heap of metal that was his victim flew high into the air and came cascading back down atop another of those metal behemoths, also causing more crushed foot soldiers in the process. Captain Vaneers' men fired from cover, taking down more and more of the assaulting Urza infantry. Beriam wasted no more time. He grapped the Ram, dashed back into the alleyway, and loaded another missile. He got low this time, as again he rounded the corner and targeted the third and final Growler tank. He fired, sending that hulk of a weapon back to whatever machine hell it was wrought from. The Urza were riled up now, charging at full speed towards the Vanguards in the alleyways.

They were met with nonstop gunfire, and only when Captain Vaneers witnessed the last Urza soldier fall to his gruesome and deserved death did he give the cease fire order. With this wave punished and destroyed, Captain Vaneers congratulated his men for a hard-fought skirmish and well-deserved victory. Beriam walked up alongside his captain, and was met with a proud clap on the shoulder. "You did great, lieutenant," he said. Beriam smiled and stared his captain in the face.

"I know. I was there."

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/cI8o4C7h7vo/viewtopic.php

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