The Battle Of Titan's Desert

Prologue

Trembling, the men stood in the arid desert. No more than a conscripted militia of local townsfolk and villagers. Trained for mere weeks and equipped with rusted, worn swords and axes the men knew this would be a hopeless battle.

One man however stood out. He was dressed in Obsidian-reinforced plate armour as black as the night. The sun shone on the armour with a bright gleam of such beautiful contrast from the dark plate.

Held in a tight grip was a mighty blade, the sword was as big as the very men under his command. It's edges were so sharp they could have sliced dragon scale.

Hiding a sunken and ageing face was a metal helmet that continued to give a unnerving, faceless glare.

A soldier's throat hurt as he tried to swallow what remained of his saliva. What little hydration he had left had disappeared through the dripping sweat over the hours.

The sun was sweltering. The men were baking under their padded armour, they looked like melting candles with their sweat. They felt like it too.

"Men!" His plate shimmered against the sun as he roared. "Today is the biggest day of your lives! Across from us are things that have slaughtered scores of hundreds... Each!" The plated commander was walking to and fro down the ranks of his forces, roaring inspiration to his soldiers.

"Many of those victims are some of your daughters, your mothers, your brothers and your friends. Are we going to allow them to continue?"

The army roared a collective 'NO!' With such volume and might it could have woken the Titan's from beneath.

The men looked on as a sea of blue rose above a hill covering the endless brown of the desert.

The anticipation amongst the militia grew exponentially. Many of them were feeling sick in the stomach as their enemies came into view.

They were however inspired and filled with a new and strange aura of confidence. They were still scared to their core of the battle coming, but they were feeling a surging inspiration through them.

The blue clad killers were edging closer, not faltering however from their consistent slow pace, building up the anticipation of the militia, luckily the commander's speech had helped with combatting that.

Before long the blue was becoming the defined shapes of individual soldiers was becoming noticeable. Heads and limbs could be seen within the giant mass of cloth.

The two forces were face to face. Merely a hundred yards away. This was it. The infantry had unsheathed their weapons, the archers had nocked their arrows and the cavalry had prepared their mounts. The ghoulish blue 'men' did the same.

The air was tense. The men knew they would be charging any minute; they were just waiting for the horn to sound... Tension was thick.

As if out of nowhere the horn rung through the air sending shivers through the core of the soldiers. They were charging before they knew it.

The men in the blue cloth stood there as the charging force came towards them. They lowered their swords and spears and braced themselves ready.

The makeshift soldiers charged with all their might, running alongside each other like that, it did great for their spirits. They were ready.

The two forces were nearing. Swords could almost connect. The men could smell their foes stench. And then, with what seemed like the force of a thousand horses they clashed.