Adolf Hitler - The Great Equestrian War (unfinished)

>You are Anonymous
>And it is Thursday. Which meant a quiz in your History class.
>“Summarize in one paragraph how the treaty of Versailles may have indirectly led to the rise of Fascism in Germany.”
“Hey Teach, I don’t think I could summarize this in a paragraph. Mind if I make it longer?”
>He responds with a yell.
>Weird. He’s about 10 feet away, why would he ne-
>“GRENADE!”
>You look up to see that there is a grenade that has landed on your desk.
>You jump from your seat and dive away from your desk in time to see it blown to bits.
>You also realize that you’re not in your classroom.
>Rather, you are in a field. If it could be called that.
>It’s pocked with smoldering craters, flaming wreckage, a few scattered trees barren and burnt.
>Crawling to a crater near where your desk was, avoiding gunfire, and what appears to be bolts of lightning flying across the sky, you find you are not alone.
>There is a man, or what remains of him.
>He is wearing what looks like armour under a robe with a sun and moon on the chest.
>You take this opportunity of brief safety to assess your situation.
>You’ve been… teleported… from your classroom to a battlefield. You were nearly blown apart by a grenade, but other than some mud on your face, you remained unharmed.
>This guy was not so fortunate.
>There was blood coursing from his neck, and he was holding his hand to his gushing wound. But it didn’t look like he going to hold on much longer.
>During this time, his gaze had been to the sky, but he slowly turns to you, barely breathing.
>”Go… to the base. That way.”
>He gestures in a general direction with his free hand.
>He pulls a necklace from his neck and hands it to you.
>“Give ‘em this. You’re not a part of this. They’ll help.”
>He spasms a bit, coughs up some blood, and ceases stirring.

>You take a brief look at the necklace
>It’s a smooth stone, about the size of an egg. Green, like a piece of jade, and covered in mysterious carvings.
>And glowing.
>Why was it glowing?
>Given that there was gunfire and other such calamity around you, you figure it’s a good idea to find out later.
>You begin sprinting across this muddy mess of a field, dodging caltrops, mangled bodies, stray bullets and what you were guessing by now were magic spells.
>Eventually, through the surrounding miasma, you start to see other people coming your way.
>Dressed in similar garb to the man you met dying in the crater, they marched together, solemn looks on their faces, casting fireballs and bolts of lightning from their fingers.
>Even though you had the stone, you didn’t want to risk them taking you for an enemy.
>You collapse as soon as you think they can see you, pretending to be dead.
>Their footsteps come closer… closer…closer.
>They walk towards you…
>And then past you.
>As if you weren’t even there.
>You slowly rise up, looking back at their flowing blue robes.
>Bad idea.
>As you turn back facing forward, you see now a different group of soldiers. These are also robed, but in deep crimson, and with a tree upon the chest of their robes.
>They made a strange clanking sound, until you realized along their belt, they carried bottles of some concoctions.
>They, too, walk straight past you, stopping after a few feet.
> “EVERFREE FOG!”
>One of them yelled this, and the others pulled a bottle from their belt, almost robotically.
>“TAKE AIM!”
>“THROW!”
>They all throw the bottles, which upon breaking, release a thick fog.
>That explains where the fog was coming from.
>You see a trench several feet away.
>Sprinting as fast as you can, you forget to look for hazards.
>Your leg catches in a small hole, and you hear a sickening crunch, as pain shoots up your leg.
>Yelling out in pain, you muster all your strength to fall face first in the trench.

>"What's this one's story? He doesn't look like one of ours!"
>"We just found him lying in the trench. His leg is broken, and he was unconscious."
>"So we're to treat enemy soldiers now, huh? Is that what you're saying?"
>"Doctor, I don't think he's a soldier! He was unarmed! Except he was carrying this."
>You feel a cool, damp, washcloth being lightly dabbed on your forehead.
>And an agonizing pain in your right leg.
>You are Anonymous.
>And you have no idea what the fuck is going on.
>"Doctor, I think he's coming to!"
>You slowly open your eyes, and sit up just slightly.
>You are now in a small room, about the size of a large shed.
>It is dimly lit, and you can hear thunderclaps and explosions outside.
>You're lying in a cot. It's a bit stiff, but better than crawling through mud.
>"Good morning, young man."
>You turn to your left to see a nurse.
>Her pale pink hair in a bun, and with a youthful face, she couldn't be more than twenty.
>If you weren't in agonizing pain, you'd probably pop a boner.
"G...good morning," you manage to utter.
>"Doctor, come quick! Our mystery patient is awake."
> To your right, you notice an older man in a white trench coat, with a bit more blood and mud than on the nurse's.
>He's clean cut, with a freshly shaven face, trimmed hair with traces of grey, and a look of authority about him.
>"'Morning. I am Dr. Stable. This is Nurse Redheart. You were found lying in the trench with a broken leg, and clutching this."
>He holds aloft the same rune stone given to you by the robed man.
"Hey, give that back!"
>"Why do you have it? Are you a spy?"
>This guy was getting to be a real dick.
"No! One moment, I'm in my class, the next, I'm nearly blown apart by a grenade. There was a guy who gave that to me, and told me to show it to you people. He said you'd help. He's dead now, so don't bother asking him!"