《The Beginning - Breath of War》Chapter 1- Part 1
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"Hi Mom, I'm going over to George's house to work on my assignment. We are going to write a speech about the new planet."
"Okay, sweetie, be careful."
.....Six hours later.....
"Tally, where are you? It's 9pm and you're not home."
"Sorry, the person you are calling right now is unavailable, please call back later or leave a ten second message after the beep......beeeep"
.....Half an hour later.....
"Honey, please, please pickup, your father and I are getting worried, where are you?"
"Sorry, the person you are calling right now is unavailable, please call back later or leave a ten second message after the beep......beeeep"
~ * ~
Location Unknown, Year 2061
Talmen waited, hiding in the shadows of the balcony above, watching as a band of Orcs in heavy black armor marched into the clearing below him, sniffing the ground. Their footsteps thudded against the earth, obsidian black axes swinging at their sides and beady red eyes glaring all around them. He could barely make out twenty of them in the dull moonlight. They grunted back and forth in their guttural language, pointing towards the house. Shit!! He needed to move and move fast. He quickly grabbed his 9mm pistol, stuffed it into the back of his pants, and pulled the bag over one shoulder. He waited till the Orcs made their way into the house, then carefully climbed over the balcony and reached out for the nearby drain pipe and slid down.
He nervously checked his surroundings before rushing for the nearby underbrush, when an Orc hanging back caught sight of him and let out a loud growl to alert its brothers inside. Talmen cursed and started running. The wind whistled by him as he ran deeper into the forest, his long legs propelling him forward. He could hear the Orcs grunting and growling behind him as they came after him. Panting, he stumbled over tree trunks and brushed through tree branches, scraping his arms and legs in the process. The orc grunts grew louder. Out of breath and close to collapsing, he tripped over a stone and slammed hard into a nearby tree. Head spinning, shoulder aching, blood dripping down his forehead, he stumbled on and pulled out his pistol. He reckoned he had half a mag left, nowhere near enough to take out a whole Orc pack. He needed to find safety soon or he'd end up being just another dead roamer.
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The Orcs were drawing closer and closer. They spread out to either side of him to cut him off. They moved easily through the forest, loping forward in their heavy black plated amour like it was nothing, half-moon shaped axes in hand ready to swing. He swung his pistol around to the left, hoping to scare off the closest Orc, but the creature merely smiled, showing off large white tusks. He fired twice. The first round missed, smacking into a tree. The second round bounced off the creature's thick breastplate, only slowing it for a moment. Palms sweating, he kept firing as he ran. But, the Orc's around him simply ignored the bullets flying their way, pressing in closer from all sides.
Hearing the click, click of an empty magazine, he tucked the gun into his belt and started praying. "Shite, shite, shite." His legs were close to giving out, his body was soaked in sweat, and his arms ached with the effort of moving. His thoughts drifted off to his little brother, all alone in this dark world with no one to protect him or look out for him, when a small axe flew past his head to thunk into the tree in front of him. Another immediately followed, spinning towards his legs, barely giving him any time to skip out of the way and received a deep gash across the back of his left calf for his effort. The Orc's excited by the smell of blood lunged forward, speeding up. Heart racing, body drenched in sweat, and lungs on fire, Talmen collapsed to the ground. The Orc's whooped in glee their evil little red eyes savoring their meal. Any moment now, he pictured the axes swinging up before crashing down to bite into him.
Wiping sweat from his eyes, he tried to stand up, so he could die on his feet, when gunfire erupted all around him. Three men and two women in ragged clothing carrying assault rifles appeared to his left, opening fire on the nearest Orcs. Snarling angrily at the sudden assault, the small pack of Orcs recoiled backwards. Three of them badly wounded from the rain of bullets that had managed to puncture their thick armor. The leader of the group, a middle-aged woman with flecks of grey in her scraggly blonde hair, waved at him urgently. "Get your arse over here." Talmen relief flooding his system, grinned stupidly at the command, and limped over to join them. As soon as he reached the group, one of his new companions, a tall well-built man who smelled of oil fat, lifted him up onto his shoulder. "Fall back to the river," called the woman in a gruff voice, "Damon, you lead the way with the boy. Rex, Hart, guard our rear." The well armed group quickly formed up around her to do as she commanded, beating a hasty retreat towards the west. Out of the forest and up a small hilltop. The occasional rat-tat-tat of gunfire still sounded, but the Orc's had halted their chase.
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"You can put me down now, I can run," Talmen said.
The man grunted and dropped him on the ground and kept running. Talmen cursed the fool for dropping him on his injured leg, and limped off after the big guy; his leg throbbing abominably. The woman who had saved him looked him up and down, her icy blue eyes calculating.
"You with anyone?"
Talmen shook his head.
Her eyes grew colder and he could sense disappointment. Without another word, she sped up leaving him behind. The pair guarding their rear glanced over at him as they passed him by and silently pointed towards the long, snake like river. Where most of party were already crossing the river and waiting patiently on the other side with guns leveled.
Gritting his teeth, he limped faster towards the sound of the burbling river, not wishing to be left behind. Reaching the embankment, he dived head first into the icy cold water. Wincing in pain as the water washed over his cuts and scrapes, before slowly swimming towards the other side with steady strokes. Limbs screaming at him to stop, he scarcely made it to the other side, before tumbling onto the ground, the cool wind chilling his bones instantly. He tried to stand up on his trembling legs, when he felt hands lift him up and grab at his backpack. He instinctively tried to struggle and slip free from their grip.
The woman calmly pointed her pistol at his head. "Don't move."Her hard cold eyes bored into his. He glared at her, his blood boiling with anger and confusion. Why bother saving him? When they could just as easily have robbed him? As if hearing his thoughts, she spoke quietly, "We don't have any room for dead weights. Your wound will only slow us down.
"You'll be safe here, at least for a while till they find a way to cross the river." The big man that smelled of grease tugged the gun out of Talmen's waist belt and the woman slung his backpack over her shoulder. The group then sprinted away, leaving him on his own again...
Still wincing from the throbbing in his leg, he decided to keep moving. He didn't want to be here when the orcs arrived. Head pulsing with anger at being called dead weight, he trailed off after the group, determined to reclaim his possessions and show them that he could make it on his own...
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