Post by Lakshan Radhavallabh on Jul 3, 2010 21:11:06 GMT -8
Lakshan marshaled his troops on the battle field forming them up into neat columns and rows. He did it wordlessly using his hand signals and every once in a while a rough touch on one of the new recruits. He was ready, his warriors were in neat columns the common infantry men would serve their purpose. The Rajput never would have formed into such columns and lines but using standard infantry men would do better against the sheer numbers that the enemy presented.
This was his least favorite time, the few minutes before battle was joined. Everyone was tense and on edge and it was only when he saw the signal from the commander that he gave his men their signal. They rushed forward swarming toward the enemy lines. Where the infantry men collided with the invading armies lines they fought to a stale mate and were trading inches not feet. It wasn't until the Rajput squad leaders forced themselves into the thick of the battle did it start to turn. Using the Katar and Tulwar with vicious abandon a Rajput would force his enemy back quickly using his life long training as the over all deciding factor on this battle. Lakshan rushed forward just as his group of infantry started to show signs of faltering. He raised his Khanda in a broad overhead swing that as it came down it parted metal , flesh, and bone as easily as it were water.
Just as the spray of blood hit his face did Lakshan spring out of bed a Katar already on his right arm as his door started to peak open. Damn... just a dream again. I'm starting to believe I was born into the wrong era . Just as his fellow hunter entered the door did Lakshan finally start to visibly relax.
"Lakshan, the dispatcher wishes to see you" With that he made a slight bow and left the warriors room. He did not wait for a response nor would have one came. Lakshan began to busy himself with putting on his standard clothing as well as the medium class armor that went along with the Rajput outfit he always wore. His weapons were hidden on his body only the Khanda and Tulwar sticking out obviously. He met the dispatcher and gave him a stiff salute.
"Lakshan, there are reports of a group of werewolves terrorizing a group of people in Siberia. We are not calling for trial on this one as it has already been confirmed by several sources. The council has ruled they are to be dealt with quickly and... shall we say quietly. We do not need the United gaining any fodder in their 'war' against the scattered, wouldn't you agree?" The dispatcher had given him all he needed to know . He gave a stiff salute and left without ever saying a word to the man. He went to his room and packed a few essentials that he might need then went to where he knew they Banglaire would have a car ready to take him to the airport to a private terminal to a private plane so that he would not be hassled by any customs agents or any of that stupid airport 'security' they had now.
Lakshan sighed heavily wishing that he had been born in an older time when he would have been able to marshal armies on the field, wade into the thick of battle slaying his enemies that thought to slay him, to not wait on a call where he would be allowed to kill five or six enemies at a time and then go back to living in a room where he was only comfortable thanks to his family heirlooms. It was not an easy life for this old soul. He knew he was born in the wrong century let alone the wrong decade. As he boarded the plane he looked out at the main terminal and almost smiled. He was glad to know he was afforded some luxuries though. He didn't have to go through that rat race they call airport plane catching. He shuddered at the thought of such indignity.
Lakshan removed his two swords and took his seat setting them down next to him and he leaned the chair back as far as it would go. Intending on getting some sleep before landing in Siberia.
This was his least favorite time, the few minutes before battle was joined. Everyone was tense and on edge and it was only when he saw the signal from the commander that he gave his men their signal. They rushed forward swarming toward the enemy lines. Where the infantry men collided with the invading armies lines they fought to a stale mate and were trading inches not feet. It wasn't until the Rajput squad leaders forced themselves into the thick of the battle did it start to turn. Using the Katar and Tulwar with vicious abandon a Rajput would force his enemy back quickly using his life long training as the over all deciding factor on this battle. Lakshan rushed forward just as his group of infantry started to show signs of faltering. He raised his Khanda in a broad overhead swing that as it came down it parted metal , flesh, and bone as easily as it were water.
Just as the spray of blood hit his face did Lakshan spring out of bed a Katar already on his right arm as his door started to peak open. Damn... just a dream again. I'm starting to believe I was born into the wrong era . Just as his fellow hunter entered the door did Lakshan finally start to visibly relax.
"Lakshan, the dispatcher wishes to see you" With that he made a slight bow and left the warriors room. He did not wait for a response nor would have one came. Lakshan began to busy himself with putting on his standard clothing as well as the medium class armor that went along with the Rajput outfit he always wore. His weapons were hidden on his body only the Khanda and Tulwar sticking out obviously. He met the dispatcher and gave him a stiff salute.
"Lakshan, there are reports of a group of werewolves terrorizing a group of people in Siberia. We are not calling for trial on this one as it has already been confirmed by several sources. The council has ruled they are to be dealt with quickly and... shall we say quietly. We do not need the United gaining any fodder in their 'war' against the scattered, wouldn't you agree?" The dispatcher had given him all he needed to know . He gave a stiff salute and left without ever saying a word to the man. He went to his room and packed a few essentials that he might need then went to where he knew they Banglaire would have a car ready to take him to the airport to a private terminal to a private plane so that he would not be hassled by any customs agents or any of that stupid airport 'security' they had now.
Lakshan sighed heavily wishing that he had been born in an older time when he would have been able to marshal armies on the field, wade into the thick of battle slaying his enemies that thought to slay him, to not wait on a call where he would be allowed to kill five or six enemies at a time and then go back to living in a room where he was only comfortable thanks to his family heirlooms. It was not an easy life for this old soul. He knew he was born in the wrong century let alone the wrong decade. As he boarded the plane he looked out at the main terminal and almost smiled. He was glad to know he was afforded some luxuries though. He didn't have to go through that rat race they call airport plane catching. He shuddered at the thought of such indignity.
Lakshan removed his two swords and took his seat setting them down next to him and he leaned the chair back as far as it would go. Intending on getting some sleep before landing in Siberia.