The Sun Sets on Blue Dragon Phalanx

Humid air hung heavy under the midday sun. It was akin to taking a bath fully clothed, with none of the refreshing and all of the hassle. The smell of bodies drifted through the windless surroundings.  It was a stench you grew used to in war but that never really lost its bite.

"It's unpleasant." Rare for Lt Raker to share his feelings, positive or negative, which went more to speak of the conditions than any utterance from another man of the company could have made. "Still, to think they would bring the fight to us."

The sun hung directly over Fort Rend, and the rank and file were scrubbing away at the blood-splattered walls and disposing of the bodies of both friend and foe. The Commander stood up and wiped the dirt from his pants, tossing the core of the fruit he was snacking on to the side. "Yes, they had us entirely surrounded." He spat. "The poor bastards. Report, officer!"

"Three dead two wounded on our said, Commander. We're still counting but at least 60 on their side we're gonna have to bury." The officer dropped his salute and got back to work. "Well, Raker, you were right. I guess I'm buying next month's whiskey."

"It will raise the moral of the men. Gaed helps those who help themselves, and nothing helps an army man like booze." He wiped his brow. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be getting out of this damn sun."

The Commander, noticing his junior's limp as he turned to go, dismissed him. That old bastard would never admit to needing to rest. Raker was nearly ten years his senior, and had been part of the company for at least five more than him, but wasn't one who sought out leadership. "They'll have to bury that bastard before he'll rest." He turned to more officers, issued simple commands and made his way back into the fort, his path leading him to the officer's mess. Tonight, after a victory like this, he would eat with the men. It was the tradition, after all, of the Blue Dragon Phalanx.

Despite the victory the moral of the men was low. The Phalanx's time was drawing to a close. It was on the face of every man, save maybe Raker who looked as content as ever. Banished from the kingdom, they were living out their last days in this old castle. The men had built a church to Gaed and cleaned it top to bottom. It was almost like home. The castle itself stood strong, but the heart of the Phalanx was slowing its beat. In the end, it wouldn't be a force that could wipe them out. No single army could stand against them, after all. No, with banishment from the great war, no new men would seek enlistment. What would finally slay the Blue Dragon would be time. The Commander sat down as Price set a plate down in front of him. "Thanks."

"Oi, it ain't much, but it's what I's can make. Throat, holler out to them boys, tell ems to finish up out sides quick like. This'll get cold in another ten." Price set back to laying out more plates, as Throat bellowed in a voice so deep it threatened shaking the foundation of the fortress.

The men trickled in like rain through the cracks of the old fortress in a storm, and slowly took their places. The Captain looked to Raker before raising his glass. "To the Blue Dragon Phalanx, the greatest army in this or any age. May we rest with Gaed in the halls of our fathers, or spend eternity hunting our fallen foes in Acheron." The men roared, glasses clashed, and the men drank deep. Their time would come to a close, but what would be left behind them would be their glory. The Commander would make sure of it, that their final rest would be a peaceful one, that their treasures would stay hidden from their foes.