Leaving it up to Chance – Deathshot Battle Report

Captain Vinko spat on the ground in disgust as he saw the Royalists approaching. “We won the war men!” He shouted, “Now let’s win the battle!” The Yellow Hats cheered their new officer. While not as well trained as his regulars Vinko knew the militia would fight just as hard since this now was their homeland, it was no longer under the control of tyrannical bloodlines.

Captain Chance of the Harkovian Guard was a seasoned veteran, having been at every major battle in the War of The Three Dragons he knew how the Su Khan fought, they were ill disciplined and lacked strong leadership but they were more brutal and bloody than almost any other Collective force only second to the fearsome ‘Tigers’ of Babbacumbe. He issued the general advance, knowing if he could hold the line for long enough the Su Khan would break, half out of fear, half out of boredom.

The terrain was dense and troublesome. While preferring the skill and finesse of manoeuvring blocks of men in open and gentlemanly combat Chance was well aware that in the Boskovan mountains the fighting was close quarters, chaotic and savage.

Chance had the Caerdonians form into a firing line to protect the left flank as he and his Harkovians prepared to take the strong point in the centre.

Vinko pushed his men up to the edge of the old fort. He could hear the padding of leather boots on the dirt behind it, of Royalist officers calling out orders in their prissy accents. Knowing he would lose the moment if he didn’t strike now Vinko ordered the advance.

The Su Khan were faster and unloaded their muskets into the Harkovians in a devastating volley. Four guards were torn down, the rest stumbled in the confusion. Chance stared in disbelief as his men failed to return fire lost in the smoke. How had this rabble bested him?

If it weren’t for the Caerdonians running in from the left with bayonets fixed all would have been lost there and then.

But then Chance heard the worst order when facing Su Khan.

“Charge!” Vinko screamed.

Chance’s remaining men managed a volley but to no avail as the enemy were already upon them. Screams of the dying filled the old fortress.

Chance drew his pistol and fired at an approaching savage. The shot tore through the beasts shoulder but he kept coming his eyes alive with horrible possibilities. The bayonet lowered and Chance failed to move quickly enough, he felt the sting of cold steel pierce his guts.

He looked around desperately but none were left to aid him their carcasses now being stripped of ammunition, food and good boots.

The beast was on him before he had even breathed his last. He watched his medals as they were ripped from his jacket. Chance fumbled in his pocket for the picture of his wife but the Su Khan dog thinking he was scrambling for a knife lunged the bayonet into his torso for second time. His legs went limp, then his arms, then his mind.

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