August 7th, 1565 -- On the slope
"Rally! Move forward to live!" Venkata waved his pistol high in the air, his voice straining to encourage the men.
It was all he could do.
The leading guard of the Janissary were killing those who were too slow to their liking before they had climbed half the slope. Towards the center several of the Cat's men had succombed to the ghastly air they breathed as they struggled up the hillside. The Sultan's Chosen had quickly and silently cut them down, and returned their focus towards the crest of the hill without a word being said. If they intimidated him before, they frightened him now. They were trapped between two scourges, neither caring whether they lived or died so long as their opponent fell.
"Get up! Move!" A man coughed violently and fell to his knees. Venkata grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck and shoved him forward even as his stomach exited his mouth. "Don't give them the satisfaction! Keep moving! If you fall this day, let it be with three of the heathen's on your blade!"
Somewhere above the thunder of cannon ripped through the air. A gaping hole filled with red mist appeared where before half a dozen of his men had walked. Venkata silently said goodbye to his beloved Sreena, and tried to hold his stomach long enough to reach range of the infidel.
"Rally! Move forward to live!" Venkata waved his pistol high in the air, his voice straining to encourage the men.
It was all he could do.
The leading guard of the Janissary were killing those who were too slow to their liking before they had climbed half the slope. Towards the center several of the Cat's men had succombed to the ghastly air they breathed as they struggled up the hillside. The Sultan's Chosen had quickly and silently cut them down, and returned their focus towards the crest of the hill without a word being said. If they intimidated him before, they frightened him now. They were trapped between two scourges, neither caring whether they lived or died so long as their opponent fell.
"Get up! Move!" A man coughed violently and fell to his knees. Venkata grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck and shoved him forward even as his stomach exited his mouth. "Don't give them the satisfaction! Keep moving! If you fall this day, let it be with three of the heathen's on your blade!"
Somewhere above the thunder of cannon ripped through the air. A gaping hole filled with red mist appeared where before half a dozen of his men had walked. Venkata silently said goodbye to his beloved Sreena, and tried to hold his stomach long enough to reach range of the infidel.