Thread: Valkyria Chronicles - The Unwritten account of the Warhounds

In the shade of Night, interlopers shuffled about in the dense woods, lanterns extinguished when they came upon the road. Travelling through the countryside, cold and hungry, the little refugee group found a moment's reprieve as they rested in a semi-rocky clearing away from the dirt road. Shit...get the medical supplies, now! commanded a young Darcsen male named Rat, pointing towards a middle-aged man who limped about, grasping his thigh. They had managed to elude the patrol...but at what cost? They had lost an able-bodied man and another was injured. An older woman, Esme had begun to tend to Heka's wounds. The other men looked nervously. It was a bad idea to cross from Yuzen to Ingolstad was a bad idea! But with the other Mercenaries cracking down, the gunshots in the night told them their fate had they stayed there! Children cried softly, though Rat had directed the men to lay Heka on the floor, sitting upon a patterned blanket that they laid out for him. Bleeding somewhat harshly, everyone was concerned. But not Rat. He had ulterior motives. Fingering the stick of markerlights he had in his pockets, he sighed as he thought up their next move. The little host numbered no more than a dozen most of them women, children and an elderly woman named Miol, it was quite a sorry lot. Descriminated by a past written by those who had oppressed them, a life of running away was not a life any of the Darcsen wanted to live, yet they were forced to live with it from the last enacted mandate of the Emperor calling for the murder of any Darcsen that they could see. Hearing Heka's screams of pain, though he did bite down on the branch it was utterly painful to feel Isara try to pull out the bullet. He and Isara had 'met' in the city of Aschaffenburg she had been captured, bound hand and foot, about to be led to her death had it not have been for him attacking the guards who held her in that room. It was quite obvious they had the intention of raping the young girl. Since then, she had followed his intention to cross the Gallian border to their freedom, coming across a Darcsen family on the way there. Throughout their week-long endeavor, he grew to admire her courage, somewhat, particularly her refusal to start hating needlessly. After the man was comforted by the hold of his child Zekan, he walked up towards Isara just as she grasped the blankets. It was nightfall already and they would have to sleep out in the open yet again. The children were transfixed by Grandmother Miol telling them stories of valor and myth, while the others focused on the grim reality. He motioned to a few men, particularly to Hakan. Search the perimeter. Come back and direct me to any road you find. DO NOT be found. Sending the others to stand guard, he walked up to Isara, who had been busy reassuring the little ones that all would be fine, handing them blankets to share. They were short on everything but hope. A hope that Isara had kept up. Everything looking good around here? he asked, helping distribute a few blankets for them to sleep on, laying one onto the injured Heka. I'm concerned about our food supply, but it won't be long until we pass the Border.