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The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 3864351" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 284</p><p></p><p>THE FAMINE SPIRIT</p><p></p><p></p><p>Men screamed and armored bodies crashed loudly to the ground. In the confined space bounded by the old barracks structures, the chaos of battle was amplified. </p><p></p><p>Tiros ground his teeth painfully, his jaw clenched against the unending surge of torment that emanated from the monstrous ghoul. The thing had already taken wounds that would have killed a dozen men, and it seemed almost invincible. It seemed to be healing the damage it had suffered, even as the determined soldiers hacked at its body with their swords. </p><p></p><p>At his initial order, the men of the Second Legion had attacked. A wave of <em>pila</em>, the light but deadly javelins favored by the legions, had shot out toward the creature, accompanied by a few arrows from those few archers who had arrived. At least half a dozen of the spears scored hits, piercing the creature’s fat body, but it had ignored the wounds. Three dozen men had charged forward, their short swords raised as they roared the battle cry of the Camarian legions. That cry had wavered some as the phalanx encountered the ghoul’s aura of pain, but the men of the Second had grimaced and kept going, closing the distance between them and the creature. </p><p></p><p>The ghoul had not waited for them to come to it. Yanking a pair of spears out of its body, the creature had charged forward with a speed unbelievable for a thing of its bulk. Within a few heartbeats it had covered half of the distance separating it from the onrushing legionaries, and then it had leapt into the air, its bloated form rising a good ten feet above them before it plummeted down directly in the center of the charging ranks. One man had screamed as the creature’s weight shattered his legs; the sound had died quickly as it reached down and seized his head, ripping it off his torso. As the surrounding men looked on in horror, the ghoul had thrust the entire head into its mouth, which stretched improbably wide to admit the prize. Blood and brains splurted from its mouth as it crushed the dead man’s skull within the vise of its jaws. </p><p></p><p>Tiros had been on the right edge of the charge, and had urged the others to attack. Those soldiers closest to the ghoul on its landing had hewn at it almost by reflex, but the constant torture of being close to it had hindered their blows, and the monster had suffered little by the shallow gashes inflicted upon its flesh. One man, driven almost to madness, had leapt at the monster with a fierce scream, sweeping his sword at its head with both hands. The blow never landed; the ghoul had lunged, and seized the soldier’s right arm at the elbow in its jaws. The man screamed as the ghoul bit down hard, and he fell to the ground, blood gushing from the stump of his ruined arm. </p><p></p><p>The survivors had nearly broken, for all that they still outnumbered the creature by more than thirty to one. But Tiros had driven them forward, his voice a stentorian voice of command over the agonized cries of the soldiers and the terrible noises that issued from the creature. He could not come on it himself at first, as men pressed around it from all directions, flanking it and delivering more blows against it from all sides. The ghoul roared as the legionaries struck at it; with it surrounded, it could not avoid all of their attacks, and while none of the hits thus far appeared to seriously hinder it, the gashes covering its body looked to be taking a gradual toll. </p><p></p><p>But the ghoul retaliated with a counterattack that was amazing in its violence and speed. As a legionary buried his sword in the ghoul’s back it spun and swatted him with a meaty paw. The blow hit with enough force to knock the soldier sprawling, gasping as he tried to draw air into his crushed lungs. With its other claw it seized a soldier, and effortlessly lifted him to its snapping jaws. Its bite encompassed the joint where its neck met its body, and it bit through armor, leather, and flesh alike as it ripped a huge chunk of meat from the hapless soldier’s throat. The soldier died in a spray of bright crimson, and the soldiers pressing the creature drew back in horror at the sudden change of initiative. The ghoul pressed its advantage, tossing its latest victim aside, and leaping eagerly into the nearest knot of legionaries. It took several more hits, but delivered another pair of crushing blows that dropped men like ninepins, and seized another man who screamed as he tried to get away, only to have his left leg bitten off just above the knee. Even as the ghoul swallowed the soldier’s limb, it swung the dying man like a club, striking down another soldier who was only trying to get away. </p><p></p><p>The fragile morale of the surviving legionaries would have collapsed right there, but for Velan Tiros. The marshal roared a challenge as he leapt at the ghoul from behind. Tiros no longer looked like an old man as his blade, shining with magical potency, bit deep into the ghoul’s sagging, bloated flesh. The ghoul, which had started to take another bite of the soldier it had just killed, dropped its victim and turned to face this new threat. Tiros raised his sword to strike again, but the ghoul smashed its hand across the marshal’s face. Even with his helmet on, Tiros felt like he’d been struck with a battering ram. The thing was... <em>strong</em> didn’t begin to describe it. The ghoul fought with a ferocity unlike anything he had ever seen. It came at the marshal again; Tiros tried to dodge its second swing, but the ghoul’s meaty punch smashed into his right side, just under his arm. The blow knocked him sprawling. </p><p></p><p>He was able to roll over just in time to see the monster bearing down on him, its jaws yawning wide like the mouth of a bloody cave.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 3864351, member: 143"] Chapter 284 THE FAMINE SPIRIT Men screamed and armored bodies crashed loudly to the ground. In the confined space bounded by the old barracks structures, the chaos of battle was amplified. Tiros ground his teeth painfully, his jaw clenched against the unending surge of torment that emanated from the monstrous ghoul. The thing had already taken wounds that would have killed a dozen men, and it seemed almost invincible. It seemed to be healing the damage it had suffered, even as the determined soldiers hacked at its body with their swords. At his initial order, the men of the Second Legion had attacked. A wave of [i]pila[/i], the light but deadly javelins favored by the legions, had shot out toward the creature, accompanied by a few arrows from those few archers who had arrived. At least half a dozen of the spears scored hits, piercing the creature’s fat body, but it had ignored the wounds. Three dozen men had charged forward, their short swords raised as they roared the battle cry of the Camarian legions. That cry had wavered some as the phalanx encountered the ghoul’s aura of pain, but the men of the Second had grimaced and kept going, closing the distance between them and the creature. The ghoul had not waited for them to come to it. Yanking a pair of spears out of its body, the creature had charged forward with a speed unbelievable for a thing of its bulk. Within a few heartbeats it had covered half of the distance separating it from the onrushing legionaries, and then it had leapt into the air, its bloated form rising a good ten feet above them before it plummeted down directly in the center of the charging ranks. One man had screamed as the creature’s weight shattered his legs; the sound had died quickly as it reached down and seized his head, ripping it off his torso. As the surrounding men looked on in horror, the ghoul had thrust the entire head into its mouth, which stretched improbably wide to admit the prize. Blood and brains splurted from its mouth as it crushed the dead man’s skull within the vise of its jaws. Tiros had been on the right edge of the charge, and had urged the others to attack. Those soldiers closest to the ghoul on its landing had hewn at it almost by reflex, but the constant torture of being close to it had hindered their blows, and the monster had suffered little by the shallow gashes inflicted upon its flesh. One man, driven almost to madness, had leapt at the monster with a fierce scream, sweeping his sword at its head with both hands. The blow never landed; the ghoul had lunged, and seized the soldier’s right arm at the elbow in its jaws. The man screamed as the ghoul bit down hard, and he fell to the ground, blood gushing from the stump of his ruined arm. The survivors had nearly broken, for all that they still outnumbered the creature by more than thirty to one. But Tiros had driven them forward, his voice a stentorian voice of command over the agonized cries of the soldiers and the terrible noises that issued from the creature. He could not come on it himself at first, as men pressed around it from all directions, flanking it and delivering more blows against it from all sides. The ghoul roared as the legionaries struck at it; with it surrounded, it could not avoid all of their attacks, and while none of the hits thus far appeared to seriously hinder it, the gashes covering its body looked to be taking a gradual toll. But the ghoul retaliated with a counterattack that was amazing in its violence and speed. As a legionary buried his sword in the ghoul’s back it spun and swatted him with a meaty paw. The blow hit with enough force to knock the soldier sprawling, gasping as he tried to draw air into his crushed lungs. With its other claw it seized a soldier, and effortlessly lifted him to its snapping jaws. Its bite encompassed the joint where its neck met its body, and it bit through armor, leather, and flesh alike as it ripped a huge chunk of meat from the hapless soldier’s throat. The soldier died in a spray of bright crimson, and the soldiers pressing the creature drew back in horror at the sudden change of initiative. The ghoul pressed its advantage, tossing its latest victim aside, and leaping eagerly into the nearest knot of legionaries. It took several more hits, but delivered another pair of crushing blows that dropped men like ninepins, and seized another man who screamed as he tried to get away, only to have his left leg bitten off just above the knee. Even as the ghoul swallowed the soldier’s limb, it swung the dying man like a club, striking down another soldier who was only trying to get away. The fragile morale of the surviving legionaries would have collapsed right there, but for Velan Tiros. The marshal roared a challenge as he leapt at the ghoul from behind. Tiros no longer looked like an old man as his blade, shining with magical potency, bit deep into the ghoul’s sagging, bloated flesh. The ghoul, which had started to take another bite of the soldier it had just killed, dropped its victim and turned to face this new threat. Tiros raised his sword to strike again, but the ghoul smashed its hand across the marshal’s face. Even with his helmet on, Tiros felt like he’d been struck with a battering ram. The thing was... [i]strong[/i] didn’t begin to describe it. The ghoul fought with a ferocity unlike anything he had ever seen. It came at the marshal again; Tiros tried to dodge its second swing, but the ghoul’s meaty punch smashed into his right side, just under his arm. The blow knocked him sprawling. He was able to roll over just in time to see the monster bearing down on him, its jaws yawning wide like the mouth of a bloody cave. [/QUOTE]
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