Tale of Zhen'er

A Heavy Duty, Unyielding Honour

It was chaos.
It was ugly.
It was brutal.

It was War.

  Her hands, that used to dance merrily across her father's treasured guqin, now plucks a different kind of string. Delivering deaths across the winds, sodding the earth crimson.

  After an unexpected 9 day truce offered carelessly by the Xings, the battle resumes. A part of her heart was glad of the chance to properly conduct the funeral of her uncle and the many others slain during the surprise ambush.

  But another part of her mourns the countless death in the ongoing battle, destined to embark their last journey unblessed with the final rites. There is no answer from the Capital, any hope of succour from the Ministry is fading. This will be their final battlefield, a last stand that will go on until the last soldier fall.

  There is no more time to dream.

  Here they will die. And with it any defence against the invasion.

  The helplessness of their situation stoked a fury like no other in her heart. And sparked a recklessness to the amazement of her officers. She began making plans and gambits that grew more vicious by the day. Poisons, traps, suicidal missions were all now fair game.

  Her men, knowing their eventual fate, were only too willing to give their all in the hopes of thinning the horde of the invasion. One more death of the enemy is one less killer of their citizens, is the pragmatic, cynical view. Her aide silently lamented the erosion of his Young General's good karma, knowing that this is all for the sake of a nation that had already betrayed its staunchest defenders.

  Still, for the sake of the people, he prayed to the Gods for more time. Long enough for all of his master's plans to unfold. For any delay in the advancement of the opposition.  And even a miracle or two, if any Heavenly beings was feeling charitable towards them.

  Despite everything, it was obvious that they were being toyed with. The enemy had more than enough men for any victory on their side to be made meaningless. And still the Garrison stood fast in their unwavering loyalty. 

  No longer to the treacherous Imperial throne, no. But toward each other, brothers in arms. Even the laymen and small folks who lived in the small community of the neighbouring towns took up armaments. This is everyone's fight, now.

  Unfortunately, neither the youngest nor the elderly could be sent away. Even if truce could be struck to allow the flight of citizens that could be convinced to flee, no guarantee could be made to whether they could survive the journey to any safe haven.

This is War.