Post by tjkernan on Jan 26, 2012 2:40:16 GMT -5
The Great And Secret War: Book One
TJKernan
In 1870, President Ulysses S. Grant became aware of a threat to the newly reunified United States. Packs of animal-men, beasts who could take the guise of man or beasts, or something terrible in-between.
President Grant learned of the existence of the Were Nations.
Viewing these newly discovered creatures as a threat to the American way of life, Grant enlisted a specialist recommended to him, a man known as General Immortus, who could train specialist regiments in tactics and special weapons that would allow them to hunt down these Were creatures and exterminate them.
Due to the secret nature of their mission, and the short life expectancy of Immortus's soldiers, President Grant gave the General carde blanche to select his own men, and the General filled his regiment with Confederate criminals, gunslingers, and criminals. A motley band of rogues, the men were none the less successful in their mission, slaughtering hundreds of Were creatures across the mid-west and western states, even if their losses were five to ten of the men to every were creature. President Grant didn't mind though, as many of these 'Suicide Squads' were the dregs of society, and Grant actually saw the deaths as a win-win situation.
In 1873, General Immortus himself led a regiment of his troops on a mission to exterminate a pack of Werewolves on the border of Oregon and California. They found heavy resistance from the pack, who took to guerrilla-style warfare tactics while keeping the regiments constantly hunting them through the caves and lava beds that lay southwest of Tule Lake.
The Werewolves were led by the strongest member of the pack, a male named Greyscar, and this leader was aided by a man who was not a Were, but was considered a friend to the nation. He looked human, but Greyscar knew better. The silver-haired man known as Slay'ton had first met the clan almost fifty years ago, and yet he did not look like he had aged more than a day in all those years, still appearing as a man in his mid-twenties.
Slay'ton was an expert in military tactics, and had trained the clan in battling enemies they were unaccustomed to. Men with guns.
----
"Slay'ton," said Greyscar, running towards the silver-haired man, "a platoon of the military men, on the rocks below, to the left..."
Slay'ton pulled his spy glass from inside his jacket and slid down to the rock. He scanned the direction Greyscar indicated. Indeed, far below them was a group, at least twenty on horses. It was not a whole group though, they appeared to be a scouting party, searching for signs of the Were Nation. They had trackers with them. The group stopped, and one of the trackers bent low to the ground and studied the dirt and rock. He then point up, towards the rock in a sweeping direction of the clan.
"They suspect," said Slay'ton, turning back to Greyscar, "we are up here. This group isn't what bothers me though. This is a small chunk of the men we have been fighting. I am more concerned with where the rest of them are, and where The General is."
Slay'ton knew who the real threat upon this battlefield was. He had seen this General Immortus before. He faced him on the battlefield during the American Civil War, during The Battle of Chancellorsville , a decisive victory for the Confederates that General Immortus helped orchestrate. Prior to that, the two had met on opposing sides of the Russo-Turkish War in 1828.
"I don't like this," growled Greyscar, "I don't like what we don't know. I think we should get moving. Take the clan quickly down the back side of the outcroppings, away from this scout regiment below. We can head southwest, perhaps make a stop in Evermore, and pick up some supplies."
Slay'ton nodded, "That sounds like a solid plan. Let us get moving..."
----
During the persecution of magic-wielders in the fledgling New World in the mid to late 1550's, a group of witches who feared for their lives headed in the western wilderness to forge a world of their own.
Eventually, after many hardships, the witches settled near near the Pacific Ocean, and built a town of their own they called Evermore. The witches formed alliances and friendships with both the nearby Native American tribe. The Kurak, and the nearby clans of The Were Nations. As word of the haven spread, more magic-wielders came to settle in the town, and it became a popular place for those who lived outside the 'normal' human life to pick up provisions and pass through during the expansion into the west.
----
The scouts came back with grim warnings about the state of Evermore.
Something was very wrong in the town.
Greyscar, Slay'ton, and a small contingency of warriors followed the scouts to town. They avoided the main trail, instead slipping through the woods.
Before they were out of the woods they could smell the stench of burning flesh.
Between the last few trees they could see the light. Something big was on fire.
The group came up upon the town from behind a row of houses that lined a small street a block behind the main road that ran through the town. From over the buildings they could see the flames in the night sky. The witches place of worship, The Temple of the Goddess was on fire.
"What is happening here?" asked Slay'ton, quietly to himself.
"This town," said Greyscar, a clear and distinct sadness in his voice, "reeks of blood and burnt flesh and death. This could well be a trap, set my The General and his men for us..."
Slay'ton nodded and they made their way near one of the houses. By the moonlight they could see just a bit inside of the building. It had been ransacked.
The clan made their way around the building to find the front door open. In fact, as they looked down the dirt road, the doors to all the houses were opened. An examination of the ground found many footprint, and the appearance that something had been dragged from many of the homes. All the drag marks led down the street, towards the end of the road where The Temple of the Goddess burned.
Several of the homes were checked. All were ransacked and plunder. There was plenty of blood in a few, but no bodies. no men, women, or children.
Greyscar walked out from the darkness of one of the homes, "By the Great Beast himself Slay'ton. This was the home of Loriele Kale. She had two small children. The youngest wasn't even two years old yet. What kind of men do this to innocents? The people of Evermore wanting nothing more than to live in peace and be left alone..."
The destroyers of the Evermore were no longer in the town. Whoever they were, and everyone suspected General Immortus and his regiments, had cleared out several hours ago, taking whatever valuables they could find and dragging all the populace, dead or alive, to the church.
"The horse tracks lead back in the direction of the rocks, where their scouts were following us," said Greyscar, his voice dripping with disgust, "This game of cat and mouse between us and General Immortus is done. He and his followers must pay for these murders..."
Slay'ton nodded in agreement, and as he turned to look around, the other members of the clan all agreed as well.
----
The regiments were camped out about a mile north of the rocks near Tule Lake. They seemed to be in quite a joyful mood, as from the woods the sounds of men yelling in drunken revelry were clear as day.
Ten men were stationed around the camp as guards, in groups of two. The Weres crept out from the woods and relentlessly tore all ten men savagely to bits in a coordinated assault that only lasted a matter of minutes.
Inside the camp, close to a hundred men were stationed. About half of them were in their tents, attempting to sleep or read or do whatever they could to distract themselves from the other half. As for the remaining men, they all sat around a large campfire. They were passing around multiple bottles of liquor, and there were more than a few bottles already empty and littering the ground. They sang loudly and yelled and fought mockingly and some were even telling stories about the slaughter that had occurred earlier in the day. They talked with great pride about how they killed all them 'stinkin' witches', and burned their bodies.
The wolves went to the men in their tents first, moving quietly one by one, killing the men inside each one. The Werewolves warriors number forty-eight, plus Slay-ton, so they were easily able to strike quickly and eliminate the unprepared men, making sure none of them had a chance to get out an alert to the men at the fire. Not that they likely would have heard any warnings anyway. Several shots were fired, apparently some of the men still had pistols at the bonfire, though most of the weapons were in the armory tents. The Weres secured those tents before heading towards the men at the bonfire.
Before they Weres made their assault, Slay'ton pulled Greyscar to the side and whispered something in his ear. Greyscar nodded in acknowledgement at the message and went to several of his top warriors and conveyed some the message to them as well.
The men surrounding the fire were secure in their superiority and the safeness of their encampment. They were tired, drunk, and overconfident.
The Weres flooded out in a viscous tide of teeth and fur, tearing through many of the fifty men in a matter of minutes, like fish in a barrel.
In less than ten minutes, only three of the men were still alive, all being held to the ground by men much stronger then they were, even on a day when they were drunk and tired and scared witless having seen dozens of men just slashed and gnawed to their deaths.
Slay'ton walked up to one of the men being held down. He was young, likely not even twenty years old. Slay'ton bent low. He balanced himself on the sword he carried, and watched the young man's eyes as the fire gleaned off the blade. At least the parts that weren't covered in blood.
"Do you want to make it out of this alive son?"
The man tried to speak at first, but all that came out was a scared strange squeal that sounded like a cat being stangled. Slay'ton sat their patiently, hoping that the boy could regain his composure. He couldn't, so Slay'ton moved on the second person.
This man was older. He was a veteran of battle, and had several scars of his face to prove it.
"Do you want to live?"
"Yeah." said they man bluntly. He tried to sound tough and unafraid, but Slay'ton had heard many the man bluster as such. He could hear the hint of fear betraying him within his voice.
"You are missing some horses, some men, and some weapons, not to mention your leader. General Immortus has left. Where has he gone?"
"After...after," the man stumbled as he looked at Slay'ton and then turned his face towards one of the Werewolves that helf him down. The Weres flashed his fangs and growled.
"The General led us into that town of Witches. He found somethin' in that temple they had there. Somethin' that made his eyes light up. While some of us looted what we could find, and others locked up that temple and set it ablaze, all he did was sit in the tavern and stare at whatever it was he found.
When we got back, he went straight to his tent. Bout a hour later he comes out, all dressed in his finest. Says he is done hunting beasts and that he quit. He had more important things to do. He took handful of his closest men an left after he appointed a new Commander. Said we could do whatever, go home or keep on the mission. The boys were celebrating cuz he were gonna start uprooting camp and leave tomorrow..."
Slay'ton crinkled his nose in confusion, "He just up and quit? Where did he say he was goin?"
"He didn't. But I overheard one of the other guys saying that Immortus and his boys were heading back East. They were going to Eugene and get on the train."
Slay'ton stood. He nodded to Greyscar.
"This is for Evermore." said Greyscar as he nodded to the Weres holding the three men down.
The final three died in the next couple of minutes.
Slay'ton and Greyscar walked from the fire as the Weres started to pick through the dead for useful items.
"Take what you can use," said Slay'ton, " and burn the rest. Retrieve the rest of your clan and head North for a while, a way from this mess. Keep a low profile."
Greyscar nodded, "You are going after The General?"
Slay'ton nodded, "Yeah, for several reasons. First, because the people of Evermore deserve justice. But also, I am disturbed by what that man told us. General Immortus is the consumate soldier. I faced him during the Civil War. He did not back down from a fight-win or lose. Whatever he found in Evermore must have been very important. i want to know what it is..."
----
More to come...
TJKernan
In 1870, President Ulysses S. Grant became aware of a threat to the newly reunified United States. Packs of animal-men, beasts who could take the guise of man or beasts, or something terrible in-between.
President Grant learned of the existence of the Were Nations.
Viewing these newly discovered creatures as a threat to the American way of life, Grant enlisted a specialist recommended to him, a man known as General Immortus, who could train specialist regiments in tactics and special weapons that would allow them to hunt down these Were creatures and exterminate them.
Due to the secret nature of their mission, and the short life expectancy of Immortus's soldiers, President Grant gave the General carde blanche to select his own men, and the General filled his regiment with Confederate criminals, gunslingers, and criminals. A motley band of rogues, the men were none the less successful in their mission, slaughtering hundreds of Were creatures across the mid-west and western states, even if their losses were five to ten of the men to every were creature. President Grant didn't mind though, as many of these 'Suicide Squads' were the dregs of society, and Grant actually saw the deaths as a win-win situation.
In 1873, General Immortus himself led a regiment of his troops on a mission to exterminate a pack of Werewolves on the border of Oregon and California. They found heavy resistance from the pack, who took to guerrilla-style warfare tactics while keeping the regiments constantly hunting them through the caves and lava beds that lay southwest of Tule Lake.
The Werewolves were led by the strongest member of the pack, a male named Greyscar, and this leader was aided by a man who was not a Were, but was considered a friend to the nation. He looked human, but Greyscar knew better. The silver-haired man known as Slay'ton had first met the clan almost fifty years ago, and yet he did not look like he had aged more than a day in all those years, still appearing as a man in his mid-twenties.
Slay'ton was an expert in military tactics, and had trained the clan in battling enemies they were unaccustomed to. Men with guns.
----
"Slay'ton," said Greyscar, running towards the silver-haired man, "a platoon of the military men, on the rocks below, to the left..."
Slay'ton pulled his spy glass from inside his jacket and slid down to the rock. He scanned the direction Greyscar indicated. Indeed, far below them was a group, at least twenty on horses. It was not a whole group though, they appeared to be a scouting party, searching for signs of the Were Nation. They had trackers with them. The group stopped, and one of the trackers bent low to the ground and studied the dirt and rock. He then point up, towards the rock in a sweeping direction of the clan.
"They suspect," said Slay'ton, turning back to Greyscar, "we are up here. This group isn't what bothers me though. This is a small chunk of the men we have been fighting. I am more concerned with where the rest of them are, and where The General is."
Slay'ton knew who the real threat upon this battlefield was. He had seen this General Immortus before. He faced him on the battlefield during the American Civil War, during The Battle of Chancellorsville , a decisive victory for the Confederates that General Immortus helped orchestrate. Prior to that, the two had met on opposing sides of the Russo-Turkish War in 1828.
"I don't like this," growled Greyscar, "I don't like what we don't know. I think we should get moving. Take the clan quickly down the back side of the outcroppings, away from this scout regiment below. We can head southwest, perhaps make a stop in Evermore, and pick up some supplies."
Slay'ton nodded, "That sounds like a solid plan. Let us get moving..."
----
During the persecution of magic-wielders in the fledgling New World in the mid to late 1550's, a group of witches who feared for their lives headed in the western wilderness to forge a world of their own.
Eventually, after many hardships, the witches settled near near the Pacific Ocean, and built a town of their own they called Evermore. The witches formed alliances and friendships with both the nearby Native American tribe. The Kurak, and the nearby clans of The Were Nations. As word of the haven spread, more magic-wielders came to settle in the town, and it became a popular place for those who lived outside the 'normal' human life to pick up provisions and pass through during the expansion into the west.
----
The scouts came back with grim warnings about the state of Evermore.
Something was very wrong in the town.
Greyscar, Slay'ton, and a small contingency of warriors followed the scouts to town. They avoided the main trail, instead slipping through the woods.
Before they were out of the woods they could smell the stench of burning flesh.
Between the last few trees they could see the light. Something big was on fire.
The group came up upon the town from behind a row of houses that lined a small street a block behind the main road that ran through the town. From over the buildings they could see the flames in the night sky. The witches place of worship, The Temple of the Goddess was on fire.
"What is happening here?" asked Slay'ton, quietly to himself.
"This town," said Greyscar, a clear and distinct sadness in his voice, "reeks of blood and burnt flesh and death. This could well be a trap, set my The General and his men for us..."
Slay'ton nodded and they made their way near one of the houses. By the moonlight they could see just a bit inside of the building. It had been ransacked.
The clan made their way around the building to find the front door open. In fact, as they looked down the dirt road, the doors to all the houses were opened. An examination of the ground found many footprint, and the appearance that something had been dragged from many of the homes. All the drag marks led down the street, towards the end of the road where The Temple of the Goddess burned.
Several of the homes were checked. All were ransacked and plunder. There was plenty of blood in a few, but no bodies. no men, women, or children.
Greyscar walked out from the darkness of one of the homes, "By the Great Beast himself Slay'ton. This was the home of Loriele Kale. She had two small children. The youngest wasn't even two years old yet. What kind of men do this to innocents? The people of Evermore wanting nothing more than to live in peace and be left alone..."
The destroyers of the Evermore were no longer in the town. Whoever they were, and everyone suspected General Immortus and his regiments, had cleared out several hours ago, taking whatever valuables they could find and dragging all the populace, dead or alive, to the church.
"The horse tracks lead back in the direction of the rocks, where their scouts were following us," said Greyscar, his voice dripping with disgust, "This game of cat and mouse between us and General Immortus is done. He and his followers must pay for these murders..."
Slay'ton nodded in agreement, and as he turned to look around, the other members of the clan all agreed as well.
----
The regiments were camped out about a mile north of the rocks near Tule Lake. They seemed to be in quite a joyful mood, as from the woods the sounds of men yelling in drunken revelry were clear as day.
Ten men were stationed around the camp as guards, in groups of two. The Weres crept out from the woods and relentlessly tore all ten men savagely to bits in a coordinated assault that only lasted a matter of minutes.
Inside the camp, close to a hundred men were stationed. About half of them were in their tents, attempting to sleep or read or do whatever they could to distract themselves from the other half. As for the remaining men, they all sat around a large campfire. They were passing around multiple bottles of liquor, and there were more than a few bottles already empty and littering the ground. They sang loudly and yelled and fought mockingly and some were even telling stories about the slaughter that had occurred earlier in the day. They talked with great pride about how they killed all them 'stinkin' witches', and burned their bodies.
The wolves went to the men in their tents first, moving quietly one by one, killing the men inside each one. The Werewolves warriors number forty-eight, plus Slay-ton, so they were easily able to strike quickly and eliminate the unprepared men, making sure none of them had a chance to get out an alert to the men at the fire. Not that they likely would have heard any warnings anyway. Several shots were fired, apparently some of the men still had pistols at the bonfire, though most of the weapons were in the armory tents. The Weres secured those tents before heading towards the men at the bonfire.
Before they Weres made their assault, Slay'ton pulled Greyscar to the side and whispered something in his ear. Greyscar nodded in acknowledgement at the message and went to several of his top warriors and conveyed some the message to them as well.
The men surrounding the fire were secure in their superiority and the safeness of their encampment. They were tired, drunk, and overconfident.
The Weres flooded out in a viscous tide of teeth and fur, tearing through many of the fifty men in a matter of minutes, like fish in a barrel.
In less than ten minutes, only three of the men were still alive, all being held to the ground by men much stronger then they were, even on a day when they were drunk and tired and scared witless having seen dozens of men just slashed and gnawed to their deaths.
Slay'ton walked up to one of the men being held down. He was young, likely not even twenty years old. Slay'ton bent low. He balanced himself on the sword he carried, and watched the young man's eyes as the fire gleaned off the blade. At least the parts that weren't covered in blood.
"Do you want to make it out of this alive son?"
The man tried to speak at first, but all that came out was a scared strange squeal that sounded like a cat being stangled. Slay'ton sat their patiently, hoping that the boy could regain his composure. He couldn't, so Slay'ton moved on the second person.
This man was older. He was a veteran of battle, and had several scars of his face to prove it.
"Do you want to live?"
"Yeah." said they man bluntly. He tried to sound tough and unafraid, but Slay'ton had heard many the man bluster as such. He could hear the hint of fear betraying him within his voice.
"You are missing some horses, some men, and some weapons, not to mention your leader. General Immortus has left. Where has he gone?"
"After...after," the man stumbled as he looked at Slay'ton and then turned his face towards one of the Werewolves that helf him down. The Weres flashed his fangs and growled.
"The General led us into that town of Witches. He found somethin' in that temple they had there. Somethin' that made his eyes light up. While some of us looted what we could find, and others locked up that temple and set it ablaze, all he did was sit in the tavern and stare at whatever it was he found.
When we got back, he went straight to his tent. Bout a hour later he comes out, all dressed in his finest. Says he is done hunting beasts and that he quit. He had more important things to do. He took handful of his closest men an left after he appointed a new Commander. Said we could do whatever, go home or keep on the mission. The boys were celebrating cuz he were gonna start uprooting camp and leave tomorrow..."
Slay'ton crinkled his nose in confusion, "He just up and quit? Where did he say he was goin?"
"He didn't. But I overheard one of the other guys saying that Immortus and his boys were heading back East. They were going to Eugene and get on the train."
Slay'ton stood. He nodded to Greyscar.
"This is for Evermore." said Greyscar as he nodded to the Weres holding the three men down.
The final three died in the next couple of minutes.
Slay'ton and Greyscar walked from the fire as the Weres started to pick through the dead for useful items.
"Take what you can use," said Slay'ton, " and burn the rest. Retrieve the rest of your clan and head North for a while, a way from this mess. Keep a low profile."
Greyscar nodded, "You are going after The General?"
Slay'ton nodded, "Yeah, for several reasons. First, because the people of Evermore deserve justice. But also, I am disturbed by what that man told us. General Immortus is the consumate soldier. I faced him during the Civil War. He did not back down from a fight-win or lose. Whatever he found in Evermore must have been very important. i want to know what it is..."
----
More to come...