Lost tribe of Deros


Stomps in a march vibrated the ground as Ildocian cohorts were coming down from the hill that just sprained the rays of dawn. First line, bannerman, second were we, a Deros tribesman known for strong howl and growl. Our uniforms were leather straps filled with medallions, signs of our masters and captors. Footmen marched ten paces further in the back, shiny shields glistening by the edge where pure darkness sort of spilled at their feet. Their march was trembling, I could taste the fear in barbarian horde that was awaiting them at the base of the hill with Sun in their eyes. Stupid folk, waiting to be slaughtered. Years of captivity thought me a lot, as I was the main provider of commands. I knew which sound commanded attack, which cry called for a bloodbath, which was to pull the forces back and form a wedge, which was to stand down. I marched, song in my throat and all I could think was the day I was taken.

It was a second day after harvest, Grim Fields Deros called home was lit with a warm colors of a sunset, spotted out with joyful flames of torches, young bodies celebrating the end of a bountiful year. Songs… We did everything with songs. Next tent made a wonderful duet, making love, singing their passion so thrilling and colorful that girls giggled and boys smiled at them. This event was crashed by a rider group, twelve men, full armors, clubs in their hands, blood everywhere. They took us all, put us in chains and thought us of their language, culture and we learned. Every week, those that learned slow were put against the blade and heads rolled down. Now we march.

– Give it a sign. – crowned helm knight said to a man on his right and he nodded.

– First lines, shieldwall! – he screamed and I, without a turn, opened my mouth.

– Er WaAA-Duuu! – I roared and my deputies repeated my words where instantly the front lines behind me clanked metal against metal with a manly choir of “Huu-ARRRRR” breaking off.

– Ten pace forward. – crowned knight ordered and again, his Captain nodded.

– Ten pace forward! – he now waved his hand and I growled the command, where soon my deputies sang after me and the first lines moved ten paces downhill.

Barbarians were regrouping, trying to find a weak spot and charge uphill, which was a mistake. I saw, they fought for their lives, not for glory. Poor people. Many ended this way and I couldn’t help myself not to subscribe their demise to the Deros tribe that ordered their execution. On my voice, blades were drawn, barbarians started their slow climb and Ildocians reapers just waited for the impact. Just on my voice, spears locked in the shields, archers approached the shieldwall, their aim at the right angle.

– Nemevetas! – I roared and arrows flew in the air killing many that had nothing but a slingshot in hand and a rock in the other.

– Full charge. – crowned knight said and leaned on his side to watch his troops sickle through the barbarian mass that was valiantly getting near the first lines.

– Mak ARRR Duuur. – I roared when my deputies paused and the knight rose to see what was happening.

Frightened looks of my tribesmen told me not to do this, but one by one fell to command screaming their lungs out, ordering the shieldwall to break, drop the blades, open their lines and let the horde mix with the Ildocian footmen.

Crowned knight was yanking his horse’s reins, prompting on the back legs and angrily shouted for a charge that didn’t came. His Captains, Commanders stormed forward to cut me, but I called for the archers and killed him. Total disarray, a fatal mistake that Ildocians were bound to pay for enslaving the Derosy. Knight stared at me with a rage that could be sensed through his visor. My grimace was telling him he deserved this.

Barbarians got their courage injection, their weapons have found their target, Ildocians fell to grass, cohorts decimated. A song broke off among the dying, their cries radiating in the field as the blood was rising to silence them by filling their alabaster throats. Vengeance was served and honor of the Derios was regained. The end was near.



DRONSTAD Facebook page where you can get my post a lot faster, or not, I don’t know.

We are back on tracks. Yay. If you want some more, look down.

Gargan’s tent

Eternal Mountains

Late for glory

9 thoughts on “Lost tribe of Deros

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