“The Smoles are barbaric cowards,” General Takeh said in his deep and wise voice. All eight hundred twenty eight of us knew if honor could carnate in human form, it would became General Takeh. “They have burned our villages and farms, now they intend to strike our cities. We, the guardians of Fogeil Tower are the only defensive outpost keeping those brutes from Namcison. We will all die within an hour, maybe two if we’re lucky.” Every fellow guardian, including I fell completely silent. “But we will not allow the Smoles to reach Namcison with ease. We will lower their moral and their numbers. They have killed several farmers and slaves, but they have yet to fight Miran Soldiers!”
The ground began to tremble under the feet of the somewhat distant invading army. “Our self sacrifice will not be in vain! The final battle at Fogeil Tower will be remembered for ages to come!” This was a common speech for generals knowing that they and their men would fall.
All together, we charged toward our enemies. The Smoles put their spears on their sides, like knights with lances as they ran, blood thirsty. Almost simultaneously, we, the Fogeil Guardians removed our swords from our sheaths. It sounded as if one great warrior god removed his sword in a single sharp sound.
We collided into our enemies like a wall, and at one single instant the familiar sounds of battle began. The sounds of weapons striking armor, the sounds of triumph and faliure, and the sounds of men killing men; groaning, screaming, begging, and yelling as several men on both sides fell to their deaths. It is true that the real nature of a man, whether cowardly or brave, can only be seen as they die.
I was in the middle of it all. Surrounded by it all. During the first two hours, I was stabbed in the foot, knocked down, kicked, and hit several times. I limped around in my now uncomfortably dented armor, proud of my numerous kill count. 68. By then most of my comrades were dead. The few of us who survived were far and spread out. They stood their, surrounding us in multiple circles, as if expecting us to do something. I was alone, surrounded by dozens of Smoles.
I felt a sharp pain pierce my back, saw a spear thrust from my chest. The pain was overwhelming, but I did not scream, or cry, or yell. The pain was overwhelming, but I laughed. I found nothing funny, or enjoyable. I was dying, but laughed at them, to disgrace them, and to honor myself. They knew as I did that I’m better than them. They killed me, but I laughed at them. My death was my victory and their failure. I laughed, and the moment seemed an eternity. I laughed until I slowly faded away.
the ending was very climactic and enjoyable.
