Drema: The Crimson Moon

Her First Battle

The iron breastplate hugged the tigress's lithe form. It was perfectly crafted to withstand the punishment of battle, but not hinder her movement. Its silvery shine glowed in the dull sunlight of the misty dawn.

A large scimitar hung from her side. The widely curved sword bore a serrated inward blade. Rubies adorned the hilt, making the weapon almost impractical to use. However Lilly had been trained from a very young age in the art of combat with a similarly gaudy weapon.

Strapped flush against the muscular feline's legs was an iron set of leggings of similar design. Different they were from most leggings; they only extending midway down her thighs. It might have sacrificed her protection, but it exponentially increased her movement.

Tigerlilly Bloodsong, as she was formally known sighed heavily. She, alongside her father would be charging into a gory battle very soon. She could barely make out through the heavy haze her father's enemy. Elk soldiers with their thick shields and sharp axes awaited them. It was in elks' battle tactics to allow their enemy to make the first move.

Lilly's last desire in life was to shed blood, but it seems she was nothing more than an instrument of war. Her father had groomed her to take this position at his side, and likely succeed him when he no longer wanted, or could continue his conquering lifestyle. The path of a general was in her future.

Standing much taller than the already towering Lilly, stood her father. Shatterspear was a bulking male tiger, the chief of the Bloodspear tribe. His pectoral muscles jutted outwards, his abdominal muscles were chiseled from years of exercise; they were harder than stone. Apart from physical prowess he possessed a brilliant tactical mind. His looks were cunningly charming as well.

He scanned the desolate stretch of hills, analyzing his enemy, the terrain and the weather all at once. The mist caused many problems and there were many things the tiger could not be sure of.

The chief stopped momentarily when he took notice of a tall flag. It bore the skull of a large elk; it also marked the position of their leader. Lilly and Shatterspear had both spent many moons studying the strategies of the other kingdoms, clans and tribes.

"We shall use the regular battle plan" he uttered to Lilly. She nodded.

The standard battle plan of the tigers involved rushing the enemy with blinding speed. The strength and ferocity of the soldiers would pummel through any defense while sustaining minimal causalities. When the bulk of the enemy laid dead, wounded or incapacitated the main force would divide into smaller groups and finish off the rest. It adaptable nature allowed it to be used in numerous situations.

Lilly had voiced her distaste for her father's ways before, and received many a beating for it. It was unlikely Lilly could change his mind if she did speak, but it was already too late. An enemy lay before them, one that was out for blood after their chief's insults. If the Bloodspear Tribe would not stand against the Mountainhoof Clan, they would be wiped out.

Shatterspear unsheathed his sword, the freshly sharpened blade scything through the clammy air. Lilly followed suit, as did many other soldiers. Soon everyone's blades was at the ready, prepared to cleave through flesh, bone and sinew.

"This is your first battle dearest" Shatterspear's accent was richer than honey, a stark contrast to his daughter's far lighter one. "Crack skulls and flay flesh."

Lilly nodded again, grinning to her father in an attempt to convince him of her support. Lilly had begun to humor Shatterspear to avoid beatings, but she remained as stalwart as ever in her personal beliefs. She never wavered.

Her father's face grew and equally wide and sadistic grin. Shatterspear abruptly turned away from his daughter, turning his attention to the battlefield and his vast armies once more. His forces were comprised of numerous tigers, tigresses, lions and jaguars. Each one of the soldiers was trained in the ways of combat. His tribe's alliances with many of the fellow cats of Drema had awarded him a large fighting force.

Despite seeking the council of Silverclaw the jaguar and Grasspaw the lion on military matters, Shatterspear was the true leader. He had slowly siphoned their power for himself, leaving them nothing more than figureheads in his presence. Lilly watched as her father strode over to them.

Lilly hung her head low in shame. This war has been bloody and gruesome for all and it had barely begun. There would certainly be much more bloodshed and death before it came to a conclusion. She loathed taking part in it, but her father had made his choice, and she could not disobey him again.

The mist had not relented even as the dawn faded into evening. The chilly clammy air sent shivers through her body, but she would be warm soon enough. The light of the sun had just begun to penetrate the foggy overlay.

A low rumble washed across the battlefield; Shatterspear must have concluded his conversation. Shatterspear could be seen by his daughter as he strode slowly to the front of his fighting force, sword raisied high.

Lilly assumed her position, rushing forward to his side. She raised her own sword as her father had. Slowly the cat army began to march forward, their footfalls shaking the land. They left their encampments behind, manned only by healers and flag bearers.

Slowly the feline army began to pick up speed. Every soldier, commander and general was thundering across the hills. Dust became upturned and rocks were scattered as the tide of swords rushed forward. Lilly was nearly leading the charge, only just behind her father now.

The elk lowered their shields, forming an iron wall.  The army at Lilly's back was undeterred by this, but the young tigress did not share their resolve.  Her facade's devotion and a desire to live was all that kept her sword aimed true.