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Proper Bastard by Nic Slayer
SUMMARY: Sergeant Blake in battle for first time with new privates. Hes an old officer who has been forced back into the ranks
"Two Files" shouted Sergeant Blake as he caught sight of three orcs in the distance. The soldiers with him quickly formed two lines, the first rank down on one knee. Blakes looked at his men and then at he orcs in the distance. The men looked frightened, raw young soldiers who had never been in a fight before. "Load muskets" Blake ordered as he watched the orcs running towards them, they where a few hundred meters away. Three orcs could easily tear apart a small detachment of the bravest men, never mind first time war virgins. "Attach bayonets; we will only have one shot. Fire on my command lads, be steady now". The orcs were nearly in range, but Blake wanted them close when his men fired. They looked mean, each snarling to display their yellow, crooked, boar like teeth, dripping with drool, the rest of their faces hidden behind their impenetrable helmets. One held an axe almost as big as a man while the others carried cleavers, each stained with old blood and dried on flesh. Blake drew his sword in his right hand and pointed it at the green monsters running towards them, his pistol cocked in his left hand. He waited until they where fifteen metres away. "Fire". The sound of muskets was deafening. The orgs stopped dead as the musket balls ripped holes in their green flesh of their arms and legs, as the soldiers were trained to aim for. Orgs skin was far too tough for shots to kill them, but shooting in this way slowed them down and gave you a chance to fight them.
"Charge," and with a cry Blake and his men charged the beasts. He headed straight for the biggest of the three, carrying its axe high over its shoulder. It swung it down across its body, a move Blake expected and dodged by diving and rolling over on his right shoulder. He turned and rolled and slashed his sword across the heels of the orc which screamed and dropped to its knees, as a bayonet was thrust into its neck by a flowing man. Its head flopped backwards, as it choked and coughed on blood. The young solider who speared it put his boot on its chest and pushed the orc down while pulling on his gun to release the blade, after which the orc arched on to its back dead, with its eyes still open and staring at Blake.
Blake looked back towards his men and saw them all standing scattered around the three bodies of the orcs. "Everyone ok, anyone hurt?" He cried as he surveyed the scene.
"All fine sir" a young private shouted, his young face covered in sweat and orc blood. Jones dusted himself off and picked his musket up of the heavy mud soaked floor "Nothing major." Blake looked at his men again and was surprised they all stood their with nothing more than cuts and bruises. He knew they were good men, but he also knew they had been thrown into action too early, but that was necessary with the orcs coming out of the hills in the numbers they where. No one knew why, it was unheard off.
"We showed the bastards, didn't we sir."
"We certainly did," Blake replied to William, "We certainly did." A horn sounded in the distanced and Blake looked out towards the main battlefield, a hundred feet or so away.