Post by Liao Wei on Aug 18, 2010 2:48:19 GMT
Rumbling feet echoed around the outskirts of Chen Liu, and the sun blazed down upon the rising dust clouds that rushed up from the commotion. Hundreds, if not close to thousands of men were swiftly gathering supplies for immediate travel, the news of a national tragedy having strung the hearts of those loyal to the emperor; a revolution had broken out, and the noble Yuan Shao was now facing death at the hands of what we believed to be once loyal lieutenants. Turmoil came in pairs it seemed, as in the capital, the villainous Dong Zhuo also threatened the integrity of this once great nation, commanding a powerful, peerless army, fuelled by the unmatched vigor of Lu Bu, that would undoubtedly bring tyranny to the innocent.
Dozens of ammunition and food carts were prepared and tied to their horses; even the peasants were smothered by the chores they were forced to do, sweat pouring down their dirt covered brows like a gushing waterfall. It would take significant time to reach their destination, but upon their arrival they knew it wouldn’t be long before being thrown into the chaos of battle. Each soldier took with them a weapon, their armour, and a hardened grimace, etched by turbulent times they lived in.
At the helm of this army, with rolled up sleeves and specs of perspiration over his visage, was the dutiful Liao Wei, and his trusted bodyguard, Ma Wen-Wei, each of them doing their part in these preparations. Neither of the men spoke a word, a rarity for the pair who could never resist a banter. Clouds began to cloak the horizons as the evening approached, signalling their time to move.
"Pack the last of the wood cutting materials, and bring me my steed. We ride in 15 minutes." Liao Wei’s order to his underling was swiftly followed, as the last of the carts were reined in, each of them containing some specialist equipment - axes and saws to fashion wood, several dozens of meters worth of rope, and an array of broken and splintered blades, undoubtedly scraps from previous battles. The cunning of Shuohan would not evade their next battle, it would seem. A villain was to be halted, and justice to be restored, and with the approved army of his lord Cao Cao, Liao Wei marched forth, to play his part in the nation’s destiny.
Dozens of ammunition and food carts were prepared and tied to their horses; even the peasants were smothered by the chores they were forced to do, sweat pouring down their dirt covered brows like a gushing waterfall. It would take significant time to reach their destination, but upon their arrival they knew it wouldn’t be long before being thrown into the chaos of battle. Each soldier took with them a weapon, their armour, and a hardened grimace, etched by turbulent times they lived in.
At the helm of this army, with rolled up sleeves and specs of perspiration over his visage, was the dutiful Liao Wei, and his trusted bodyguard, Ma Wen-Wei, each of them doing their part in these preparations. Neither of the men spoke a word, a rarity for the pair who could never resist a banter. Clouds began to cloak the horizons as the evening approached, signalling their time to move.
"Pack the last of the wood cutting materials, and bring me my steed. We ride in 15 minutes." Liao Wei’s order to his underling was swiftly followed, as the last of the carts were reined in, each of them containing some specialist equipment - axes and saws to fashion wood, several dozens of meters worth of rope, and an array of broken and splintered blades, undoubtedly scraps from previous battles. The cunning of Shuohan would not evade their next battle, it would seem. A villain was to be halted, and justice to be restored, and with the approved army of his lord Cao Cao, Liao Wei marched forth, to play his part in the nation’s destiny.