Art of War: Legions Fan made story

An early winter

Their battalion was days lost, and worse for wear. They'd marched for a day and a half through mud and a fog so thick you could feel it beading up on your skin. Having already had to set up camp on murky ground once, they marched on, determined to not let that happen again.

"Do you have any idea where you're leading us?", broke out from one of their ranks.

  "We're bloody fookin lost!", shouted another in response.

  "Calm down, the Minstrel is working with us to navigate back. Conditions have made it rough, but without Dante we wouldn't be making such headway through this mud.", reassured the commanding officer.

"We wouldn't be lost if Kelvins were in his place!", shouted yet another.

"No," Dante replied, "You'd be dead if Kelvins had lead this expedition, not lost." A silence fell over the crowd, now stifled by the Minstrel's reply.

Later down the road, a loud noise began near the front of the march, as roughly 20 iron guards sank far into the mud. "Grab the ropes!" Infantry threw the men lines, and began to pull, to no avail. Three ogres grabbed and pulled out man after man, where infantrymen had failed, although they couldn't save everyone. The bustle was cut off suddenly by a silence, as snow began to gently fall over the men. Groans befell the battalion,

"We didn't pack for winter!", and "Great, not only have you lost us, but we're all to die from the cold, too".

The snow picked up a great deal, and the ground immediately got to being covered in a wet slosh of mud and snow, soon to be frozen solid.

"Look on the bright side, we'll soon have solid ground to walk on.", said the commanding officer, which brought a chuckle to those in earshot. They were trying their best to forget that it was march or die now. They hadn't packed for this cold, as it was of season, and they couldn't stop to camp. Night began to set on them, and they had to press on.

Suddenly, the wind stopped all at once, and the snow came to a breaking halt. Absolute silence, and an eerie feeling creeping into everyone's minds and stomachs. Screaming from the front, though visibility was too low to see what had happened. The drawing of weapons could be heard, and at that point everyone knew what was happening. A sudden gut wrenching sound of sword passing through flesh and crushing bones could be heard as Minstrel Dante was cleanly executed from behind with a slash to his unarmored torso. As he fell a silhouette of a very large man stood behind him, only a second or two before disappearing, but it was long enough to know who lead the enemy unit.. Winter Lord Ainz. Clashing of weapons could be heard for miles, and it was becoming clear that our unit was not going to be the victor, or even make it out alive. Dante wasn't the only of the last line to fall, their ghost assassins ate through our entire commanding power.

As they fell one by one, I froze. I was in the middle of our march, receiving the least of the punishment. I abandoned my archer post and fled into the woods. The fog and snow ended very sharply about a mile out. Ainz had clearly been following us since our last battle, setting the scene for us to lose ourselves in the wilderness, and bringing down the snow on us. He was pulling all of the strings to wear us down.

"You know the price of abandoning your fellow soldiers, yes?", called the lord.

"I do.", said the archer.

  "Have him sent to die.", the lord said with a great deal of thought in his eyes. The archer was escorted from the room.

"Lord Sean?", asked one of the men seated at the table.

"Yes?", he called back.

"What are we to do about Ainz?" He stared into the fire,

"Ready a brigade, and tell Selene she's needed at my chambers."

"Understood, my lord."