I N T R I G U I N G R E V E A L I N G C O N F I D E N T I A L
T H EP R O P A G A N D AO F F I C EO F T H E U N I T E DK I N G D O MO FG O A T S R E V I S I O N2 . 2
T HEN A T I O NA LO R C HE S T R AOFTHE U NI T E DK I NG D O MOFG O A T S
e COMPENDI UM F R A G ME N TO N E
e O v e e e r
The overseer clenched his fists. He stood up slowly, turned around and reached for his weapons. “You won’t need them now, overseer…” one of the guards intervened. “We were given strict orders to make sure everything proceeds smoothly. And we don’t want anyone to get hurt. And that includes you. I think you'd agree.” The overseer did not expect such clear-cut words. This confirmed what he had already hoped for. It was true, it was about to begin. But why now? Why did they wait this long? He mustered the two soldiers precisely up and down as they were standing in the doorway to his quarter. They were of a most frightening appearance indeed. Even for Kramh. Their wings were closed and folded behind their backs - conveniently hiding their weaponry. Both of them wore their battle masks, the ones that Kramh usually only wear at highly formal ceremonies. A long white bony mask that only covers the upper part of a face and reached down only to the nose. On the forehead there's usually a distinct battle mark
drawn identifying the rank and achievements of a soldier. These two had nothing more than a blood-red skull on it, signalling that they were part of the personal war-guard of the high council Only a dim and faint blue glow shone through the holes where their eyes once were. They did not move at all. The overseer was impressed. He had never seen one of the war-guard himself. Their axes were crafted with an astounding care for details and the marks of the high council could be seen everywhere on it. Rumours had it that their armour was forged as a hardened alloy of Barium and the grounded bone dust of the ones they had slain in the name of the high council While the overseer was lost in thoughts over his two escorts one of them broke the silence and said: “The high council is waiting.” It was such an honour for an overseer to have direct word with the high council, whatever matter it was for. He was actually willing to accept any condition he was given to have it. “Yes I know.” He replied. He took a last look at his weapon rack where his twin blades rested. Shiny and polished. As ready for battle as always. He had never ever left his quarter without them. He felt defenceless. The two guards at his door seemed to read every single thought he made and spoke up, with a growing hostile tone in their voice: “We don’t have to remind you of the code of conduct, overseer, do we?” “Of course you don’t”, he replied, “Let’s go.” The overseer turned around and followed his two companions out of his tent. Both suns were just about to set and created the usual but still magnificent show of light as the three left the eastern crew camp and headed out to the fortress. A quite impressive amount -2-
of soldiers, warriors and witchsingers had gathered together to watch them march across the fields. Something was wrong here. Apparently word of the overseerâ€™s audience quickly made its way to the ears of the common people. Why did they all come to watch him? He recognized most of the faces standing by the wayside as only a few days had passed since the gathering was held at the first wall. And most of these people were there. It was an uncommon practice for the high council to have word directly with an overseer. So many of all these faces expressed that they would kill for a chance to be him now. But yet he felt some kind of support from all these people. A hundred or maybe even a thousand devout followers. These were his men. Or were they maybe more devout to their own life as to anything else after all? Regardless, with every step the overseer took he felt more responsible for everything that he had ever stood for. And he felt proud to be the spearhead. Yes! He will be one of the Kramh as he always was. And he will represent his battalion before the high council as well as he does so on the battlefield. A small troop of Kramh soldiers began a futile attempt to disband the mob standing around but failed. They were growing impatient and a few of them started shouting and screaming. The overseer failed at understanding what was happening. People were starting to throw stones and twigs, all they could find laying on the ground. The words they threw ranged from "traitor" to "hero" and some even tried to encourage him. Fights ensued among the visitors and a few ran off to flee from the sheer amount of anger that arose. His companions speed up and started to drag him away from the camp in an attempt of utter despair to avoid -3-
the mob getting hands on him. His feet lost contact with the ground below him and he fell. The two war-guards dragged him as fast as they could. Suddenly one of aggressors jumped at him with a worn-out dung-fork in his hand screaming : "Don't give in, overseer. Don't give in! When they call upon ..." - his saying was forcefully interrupted by one of the war-guards taking a swift swing with his axe splitting the mans skull in two. Blood splashed across the overseer who was now laying backside on the floor trying to fend off other attackers. The lifeless body began to tumble over and fell straight down onto the overseer who was unable to move seeing this shocking scene. The dead body still firmly held the dung-fork as he fell down and impaled the overseers shoulder. Sinking down the body slid off to the right, still holding the dung-fork and ripping it out leaving a bleeding and infected wound. The overseer's screams of pain were choked by the chaos of battle that was now raging on the camp. He fell unconscious. A last blurry glimpse catched his eye seeing the warguard who killed the man moving his mouth, but he could not hear anything coming out of it. Fainting he heard a screaming conversation between the two war-guards: "We must make it out of here quick. Someone must've informed them!". Black was all he was seeing now.
Copyright © 2012 some rights reserved This publication is released under the CreateCommons By-Nd-Nc license. You are free: to Share — to copy, distribute and transmit the work. Under the following conditions: Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work). Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes. No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work. Details of this license can be obtained here: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/it/deed.en Written and published by The National Orchestra of the United Kingdom of Goats (www.ukog.net) Eternal bliss be yours.