One Wing Clapping
On the grasslands, near the edge of the forest, the large group of soldiers continued their march while cursing their existence. Their officers on horseback cared little for the grumbling of the troops. They knew perfectly well that their participation here was the only thing that stopped them from being hung for desertion and other crimes. As for the officers, they too had to amend for a disgrace, but glory awaited them if they succeeded.
While they might have been cursing, everyone still kept an eye out. Injuries here and there reminded everyone of the risk involved, so they made sure to be alert. So far their losses had been small, but most of them had come out of neglect. In the case where another had been neglectful, well, those responsible for that now got to lead the way.
They had been climbing this mountain crest for a few days now and were finally nearing the top, their commanders itching for a good view of the surrounding terrain. Their orders were to find new resources and bring anything back that could justify a proper expedition. But so far all they had found in over a month, were just the same species they already knew. Their only bounty were fruits and a few medicinal herbs.
After another hour or so of walking, with now just a handful of trees present for cover, they finally reached the top. A fact easily recognised by the steep drop of the terrain ahead. One of the commanders carefully approached and cursed loudly, stirring worry amongst the troops. Below them, fog blocked their sight. A large valley, surrounded by mountains, most of it obscured.
Angry over all the wasted time, the man went into a tirade, seeking fault in his fellow officers and the men that had not dared split off a separate scouting crew. Others tried to hush him, while keeping a concerned eye around. Some of them carefully peeked over the edge, just in case anything was hiding there.
Then they heard the sound, a strange woosh, and saw a bit of rippling in the fog below. The clever ones started running, seeking the little cover present. Most troops followed by instinct, while the commander called them names. Then another woosh and suddenly a massive figure burst out of the fog below. The commander was the first to pay the price as a massive claw tore him off his feet. The sickening crunch that followed, made clear exactly what everyone's fate would be if they did not run.
Some of the commanders tried to bellow orders, demanding their troops rally and fight. But they had brought crossbows, not ballistae, so none of the soldiers were foolish enough to even try. Whatever the blur was that they saw from the corner of their eyes as they ran for their lives, it appeared taller than any fortification wall they had ever seen. This was not a foe to be faced, this was a force of nature.
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