Author Topic: The Chronicles of Matthew Coffey  (Read 4355 times)

Daniel Coffey

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Re: The Chronicles of Matthew Coffey
« Topic Start: December 17, 2017, 02:06:34 PM »
First Blood: Part 3

"I pray it stays that way!" Logan failed to hide the concern in his voice as he managed a nervous chuckle, turning off towards the fighting and beginning to trudge through the mixture of sunken mud and rotting corpses.

​"Just follow my tracks and stay close to me. With any luck these corpses should stay corpses." He said wearily.  Keeping his new mace close at hand he continued to walk with some haste towards the frontline alongside his companion. The moans of the wounded could be heard from beneath the bodies of others, the cries for help sent a cold shiver up Logan's spine as he continued to stride ahead, blocking it out and focusing on the sound of the fighting.

​"We can send the healers for them later." He didn't say with much confidence, turning to look back and make sure his new companion was coping alright. Ooze and mud covered the exposed part of his lower face, a bleak expression shown on the features not hidden away by his helm.  ~ Sir Logan Waters

​Lumbering behind the knight, Matthew did not respond to any of his comments as they made their way across the field. His gaze was fixated on the backs of his battalion. Once they reached it, then they would be safe. He'd considered making it back to the camp, but afraid of a shambling corpse ambushing him in this state, he agreed with Logan. Biting back the pain, they marched on. "I'll hold you to that drink when we return in one piece now..." He wheezed, sounding far more nervous than reassuring at this point as they passed the mangled bodies of friend and foe alike.

​Reaching the back felt like aeons, and the battle seemed close to over. Matthew mustered up what manner of strength he had left and shouted toward the back of his lines. "No victory until every last one of them is put in the ground, press on!" Perhaps it sounded better in Matthews head, but over the din of battle and his usually quiet voice, barely the nearest few troops heard the order. He did not care at this point. He thought only of a strong drink, followed by a long sleep. Panting in his helmet still, he knew that would not be the case.

​At least for now they could have a brief respite from the fighting.