Term Paper: Children's Book

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Creative Story

In the year of our Lord 2012 CE, Mortheal, one of the last true paladins of light, ordered the King's armies; from the lowest of privates and including all ranks, even as high as the grizzled, old master-sergeant, to 'rank up'.

As he rode his armored warhorse, draped in the kings colors (with a mane of black and white) in front of his men, his shouted commands betrayed none of the concern he felt at the sight and sounds of the orc armies advancing quickly across the golden-green fields of grass fronting the gates of the fabled and revered stone castle.

He could have seen a sight far more disconcerting if he had been standing on top of the hewn stone structure from which he normally directed any military exercises, battles or watched the regularly held games that all the soldiers and knights participated in. He was not standing there today because he wished to be a more integral part of any action.

The orc army was ascending the hillside rapidly, but Mortheal's army had the advantage of sitting atop the area directly in front of the castle which led downward into a shallow valley, which in turn sat before the adjacent ancient woods from which the orcs were pouring forth. Mortheal quickly and calmly moved to the front of the gathering army of knights and king's soldiers. Though normally he would not be their leader in a battle or war, today he had to assume that role because he was the only Knight-Captain in attendance.

The King could not lead the army today, his wife had contracted a deadly disease that was slowly sapping her strength, and her will to live. It was her wish and the King's desire to be at her side during her final moments on earth.

Mortheal understood the King's desire to spend time in the presence of his Queen, he had known of the King's love for the Queen from the moment he had introduced the two of them, five years before. The 'love at first sight' adage was not a strong enough phrase to describe what the two of them felt, and Mortheal had felt it between them as well. During the ensuing five years he had watched them as their love for each other grew ever stronger. Some of the village folk said that such love was doomed from the start, and pointed to the Queen's illness as a portent of ill regard. Mortheal was baffled as well by the sickness, and had tried everything in his magical power to help the Queen recover. Nothing had worked. Mortheal did not feel that the illness was an evil omen but he did think it was rather strange that during the last five years, as happy as the pair was together, so many strange and very strange events had taken place in their lives. This battle with the Orcs was another example; why Mortheal wondered were the Orcs attacking now, after having been badly beaten by the King's armies just a month ago on these same fields?

With that thought, Mortheal shifted his attention to the coming battle and turned to check the positioning of his men. The archers of Mortheal's army were in the far rear of the formation, from that position they would be able to shoot black herds of arrows into the approaching mass of enemies.

After the archers were the foot soldiers, who were aligned in orderly fashion, and at the front of the formation were the spear bearers, they would lead the army into battle. Mortheal nodded his head in satisfaction at the preparations, knowing full well that the time for battle was merely moments, or seconds, away.

Mortheal looked for Adionis, his second in command, spotting him as he quietly gave orders to his elite corps of men who were separate from the rest of the King's army. From their vantage point they were able to look on as the horde of orcs approached. The Orcen form of cavalry, if one could call it that, straddled both sides of the masses of Orcen infantry.

An odd formation, Mortheal thought to himself as he studied the oncoming mass of Orcen soldiers. The Orcen cavalry was composed of any animal that would carry them. No self-respecting horse would carry the orcs, so they incorporated the giant wolves of the southern wastes, the massive scorpions of the Arha desert, and sometimes even the mastiffs born and raised in human kennels.

Mortheal shouted to the archers in the back, "Are you ready men?" They answered with a resounding shout, "yes!" Mortheal knew that the men he led were nervous, but he also had a confidence in their abilities and training. They conducted themselves with honor, their pride was apparent from the way the held their heads high.

Mortheal murmured to the flag bearer, who then lifted up a blue flag with a white crescent embroidered in the middle. If anyone in Mortheal's army looked to the back, they would see hundreds of long bows raised to an exact degree, with an arrow affixed to each. Instead, the men's attention were riveted fully on what lay in front of them, and all they heard was the creak of many yew bows being pulled taut. The archers had been trained to aim for the animals carrying the horrid orcs, this would cause them to fall, perhaps starting some kind of pile-up.

From where he was perched, Mortheal took another look at the enemy as it approached and frowned with a deep concern. He looked around to see if he was the only one who had seen what was following the orcs. A few of the other men in Mortheal's proximity also saw the huge beasts that Mortheal had observed but knew not what they were, or at least if they did know, kept the knowledge to themselves, for which Mortheal was very thankful. He did not wish to have his men filled with fear before the battle had even begun.

There would be plenty of time before the ugly Sacarian beasts would have any effect on the battle, and if necessary, Mortheal, who had battled the legendary beasts on a number of prior occasions had a few tricks up his sleeve. He compartmentalized the sacars in a separate portion of his brain with the thought that it would take a while before that battle would have to be fought.

With the presence of the sacars, Mortheal was able to discern the hand of Lord Doomhammer in the upcoming battle, and he wondered to himself why the Lord would be inserting himself into such a situation.

Could the whisperings he had been hearing lately be true? Could Lord Doomhammer have designs on the good King Oreck's lands and people? Mortheal hoped not, then shook his head to clear away the encroaching thoughts and turned his concentration to the oncoming horde of orcs and the menace they represented.

Soon the baying of the oncoming wolf carriers and the high pitched squeals emitting forth from the mouths of the giant scorpions could be heard in an onslaught of noise as they drew nearer.

As the Orcs galloped closer, a member of the near at hand flag-bearing group watched as Mortheal swiped his gauntlet-covered hand downwards. The flag bearer immediately mimicked the action with the flag he was holding. A hundred twangs filled the air, and the sun glinted off the arrowheads as they left their individual bows. They soared through the air in an elegant display of deadly power. The arrowheads were designed to pierce armor, and against the low quality Orcen armor, they were extraordinarily effective.

Mortheal noticed Adionis frowning at the destruction that just a few hundred arrows wrought on the horde of orcs before them. Mortheal and Adionis had discussed many times the waste of life caused by war, and though both knew it was a necessary evil, neither thought it was conducive to a spiritually fulfilling life. Adionis in particular, often compared the honor of hand-to-hand combat with, what he believed was the dishonorable killing from afar, with arrows. The arrows pierced the armor of the orcs and sliced through their ligaments and organs, causing the orcs who had been hit by the arrows to collapse. Their fellow orcs trampled over their corpses, making sure that those who had survived the initial onslaught had very little chance of surviving after falling to the ground, even if their wounds were not lethal.

Now Mortheal saw the reason the orcs had put their cavalry on the sides. The arrows always tended to be aimed towards the center of any formation, so the troops that were important to the orcs had been placed to either side. The troops in the middle were considered fodder in Lord Doomhammer's army. "I wonder if they know that their lives are worth so little?" he thought.

Mortheal now raised his mace. A second flag bearer imitated Mortheal's action.… [END OF PREVIEW]

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Children's Book.  (2006, July 28).  Retrieved November 21, 2019, from https://www.essaytown.com/subjects/paper/children-book/509615

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https://www.essaytown.com/subjects/paper/children-book/509615.