The South's Plight

New Beginnings

Morpheus awoke from his slumber to hear the pitter-patter of rain hitting his tent. Two others stirred briefly after. Groans and mumbles were heard as the men got out of bed, still sore from the previous day's fight. The burlesque man let out a sigh, throwing his thin blanket off of him. It barely provided any warmth. As he got up he saw the young, lean boy with the messy raven black hair, already up on his feet and suited up. He had to admit, the boy had guts. But he was strange. His skin was a sickly pale color usually and he kept to himself. But the was kid good at sneaking. He thought of this as he put on clothes and armor. There was no slacking. They'd be back on the battlefield again after breakfast. If they were lucky. Usually they'd have to eat on the go. There was not much time to spare. Men were coming and going so rapidly, a medic would often have to help 10+ patients. The opposing side was coming in from the Northeast. They were positioned in the South. They met in the middle, having very little cover besides ruins of long gone buildings, and small makeshift covers. Before a man could finish it they were the ones finished. So often times soldiers would have to form a line. Neither side had made much ground since the start of it, which happened 3 moons ago. Suddenly his thoughts came to an abrupt stop. A man rushed in with braided white hair with two swords and a bow. He was their ranger. His name was Maverick, matching the definition quite well. He kept to himself too, unless it was on the battlegrounds. That made 5. A ranger, a rogue, a tank, a very sarcastic sorcerer, and a cleric. The cleric's name was Virgil, bearing a staff in which helped channel his magic and a dagger. Then there was the sorcerer. He was known as Magnus. He wielded a scythe that almost appeared to have a mind of its own in the way that its energy storage was so vast, and the gem inside swirled like a thousand purple souls, all colliding with each other, wishing to escape. Morpheus now waited outside the tent, soon joined by Hadrian, the dark haired boy. He flipped his foldable sword, then activated it, grinning all the while. The kid was outfitted with many different gadgets and gear for scout and stealth work. He also carried a sharp dagger, able to fit through gaps in between armor. Soon the entire squad was outside in the rain, watching as gray clouds rolled in, covering the blue sky. Fighting in the rain, their favorite thing. War horns were blown and cries of fury and war spread throughout the land as a mob of soldiers seem to devour the ground beneath them. This was their first mistake. They all grimaced, then jogged in, not knowing the trouble they were about to face.