A Sergeant's Smile

[ARCHITECUS 4788]

A Sergeant’s Smile

15th of Sigismund’s End, 1776

 

Sgt. Hinweiser of the 1st Brigade with Lieutenant Reine of the 4th.

 

---

 

      Advance, thrust, and chop; fall back under the cover of horse and shot. This is the tide of modern combat, a flow which Sergeant Hinweiser had been swept to and fro by for nearly three decades. As he stood proud before his section of eager halberdiers, the old trooper thought back on his beginning all those years ago.

 

     James Hinweiser was grown in the Emperor’s own country: the hinterlands of Helena which had been ravaged during the War of Two Emperors. With agriculture and industry yet to fully recover, and the threat of the Nordling coalition making investment from urban centers unlikely, Hinweiser was a boy without much future ahead of him. In those times after the fall of Renatus, the country was left without an army. The Lord Protector had established a professional army under General de Ruyter, the first of his era, but greatness would be long to come.

 

     The Imperial army at that time was equipped and trained for the warfare of centuries past, a matter which stung sorely when tested in the lighting-fast, infantry-centric battles of the present. Consecutive disastrous defeats bloodied the country, but for the red flag which had united and restored the ancient Empire, the nation’s pride would never be stained. The Emperor, working with his officers who would later become great leaders and statesmen, enacted modernizing reforms based on the Gunners’ model: a brigade of tireless, psychotically brave engineers which had done much from the interregnum until now.

 

Captain Peter Baldwin d’Arkent of the 3rd Brigade commanding Imperial cavalry.

 

     When James Hinweiser was issued his red coat and lobster-tailed helm, Colonel Darius Sabari was hard at work with the figures who lead today, such as General Alren de Nurem and Lieutenant Colonel Peter d’Arkent. The Imperial State Army was gradually growing in size as its discipline increased, modern tactics and logistics proving resoundingly effective on the field. The victories at Reza had greatly augmented national morale, and Hinweiser served diligently with a proud fire in his heart. Whether it was digging, hauling, marching, or fighting - no matter how his blood or sweat flowed - Hinweiser’s pride for his country, like his red coat, would never show stains.

 

     The years went on, and James Hinweiser’s efforts eventually found him in charge of a division of the Emperor’s infantry. Though he was never cut out to be the sort of august figure who would rise to the great offices of war and state, Hinweiser found great purpose in his post as an Imperial sergeant. He was becoming too old and worn to push himself as hard as he did in his youth, but Sergeant Hinweiser maintained himself always as a stalwart example of the model Imperial infantryman. His service, that of halberd in hand against beast and brigand, was vital to the survival of the glorious modern state. Hinweiser felt that importance well in his every action, never faltering for a moment.

 

     It was the first winter of the current war, a retaliation prompted by some reject of the modern era’s assassinations of various Orenian nobles, and the old Sergeant performed his job as he ever did. Advance, thrust; chop. Fall back to let the enemy wither under fire. In this sweeping tide, Sergeant Hinweiser practically decapitated some renegade fleeing from his division with a wide slash of his halberd. Bending down to retrieve a curiously gleaming sword the enemy had dropped, Hinweiser felt a familiar ache in his back. 

 

     Leaving the spoils to another, the sergeant stood up straight with a wistful gaze over the retreating enemy, past their territory, and into the blue sky. That pain in his back reminded James Hinweiser of his greying age, the country he had toiled to support, and his family well at home. In his head, the old man resolved to relax himself; to live safely and peacefully in respect of all these things.

 

After seeing this war through, of course, Hinweiser thought with a smile.

[Mirtok 2853]

It had been a steadily growing number of years spent behind a desk. Every so often he had been afforded the opportunity to toil with his comrades as new defensive structures were raised throughout the Empire. For most of his career, save the earliest days serving under the command of Captain Jasper Carrington, he had been a peace time administrator. General Alren DeNurem remarked fondly on the camaraderie forged with his brothers in arms, fighting along the sloping hills on the fringes of the old Imperial borders as a young man. He had the fortune thereafter of the war declining into simple skirmishes along the roads until at last proper peace had been declared.

 

In that time, the ranks of the Imperial State Army had grown immensely despite the lack of conflict that would normally bond a military force together. It was a strange feeling for him, to fear never being able to feel the thrill of a true battle once again and at the same time clawing to peace at all costs. Though as with most things in the world as grand of the Empire, decisions elsewhere would force its will upon him. However, the call to war for a DeNurem is as synonymous as the clink of a gold coin to a Carrington.

 

The snowy General stood broadly along the main way in front of the Bastille as his comrade were loaded up one by one into many open topped red carriages. The many trunks of armaments, war gear, and rations piled high at the head of each cart. The look of pride on the many young men and women who had never felt the punishment that is to fight an enemy in open combat. The more cynical veterans seemed less pleased as they knew what await but it was all too obvious they too were happy to answer their nations calling. It is not too often Man is presented the opportunity to give one's life for something that is simply greater than the sum of its parts. These brave Imperial citizens had trained for the majority of their adult lives for a moment exactly like this- Alren was certain his comrades were ready. Before too long, the logistical shouting was replaced with the steady rumble of wheels over cobblestone.

 

The Helena Regulars were off to war, red coats under glinting cuirass’, pikes and sabers rattling with each bump- aboard one of the vehicles, the men were joined in a hymn from times long since past. Without much ceremony or fanfare, the General hopped aboard a passing carriage. And as they all disappeared over the bridge horizon, Alren DeNurem was but one of many- a soldier of the Empire.

[Banned 347]

“You have seen how it turned out for any who did not want to hear...” Spoke Donovich, shaking his head in disappointment. “...How many more of my brother’s and sister’s must die, fighting your war, Emperor? Anyone with half a brain, even if he has no faith, understands what I preached before is true, but those who do not believe it, if you look carefully, either they are utterly lacking in refined reason, or they are obstinate and entirely blinded by evildoing. Recall how many lives were lost. A war the Demon, the self-proclaimed Emperor of Man has thrust upon our peoples, and not even God can free us from the dangers that plague he, and if I were to recount them all to you, you would be stupefied. I would like you to know, truly, that all my repeated saying and crying out to you, my brethren, seems to have fallen upon deaf ears and, as a result, the blood of our kinsmen seeps into the soil this day. I asked of you all, ‘’Is our Emperor just?’’, and it seems only few have recognized the answer. Those who have light have come to realize it, and those to whom GOD has given the light of the most Holy Grace have shown signs of knowledge, denouncing this Imperial campaign. War has come, and fear is rampant in the hearts of my brethren, though the Emperor spews the venom: ‘’Let death come as it may, for I am prepared; that death which is preceded by a good life is not evil.’’ But, I do not see the Emperor taking the place of the thousands of lives lost, but of course, I knew he wouldn’t – No Man of God would ever sacrifice his peoples like this, and as I told of you, our Emperor knows naught of God, for he praises the Demons below. ‘What will it matter?’ Is what he asks himself, whilst growing obese on the potatoes and meat served to him as he lingers about his throne. I can answer his pondering, for I know the sin of Man and, a Man that would cast his peoples into slaughter is a Man of Sin: War, it is momentary, but for whom? It is momentary for those who have been given the Grace of God; he can support it because he is strong. But, this war is not momentary for our peoples – Our Emperor knows no God, and he hasn’t his Grace-One without the Grace of God cannot bear it because he has no strength. The infirm cannot bear it. Thus, the tribulations will seem heavy to the sheep of the shepherd without the Grace of God, when compared to those who do.” Preached he, once more, though he knew nobody listened, and those that would have already fled the Empire, knowing all too well that this war would damn each soldier who fought for a Godless Emperor. “Take sight of the war-torn field, notice the rotting corpses of our kinsmen. It is a strong mental image: that time is short, and the tribulations we endure for this Emperor are not worth it.”

[monkeypoacher 8055]

2 hours ago, Savonarola said:

“You have seen how it turned out for any who did not want to hear...” Spoke Donovich, shaking his head in disappointment. “...How many more of my brother’s and sister’s must die, fighting your war, Emperor? Anyone with half a brain, even if he has no faith, understands what I preached before is true, but those who do not believe it, if you look carefully, either they are utterly lacking in refined reason, or they are obstinate and entirely blinded by evildoing. Recall how many lives were lost. A war the Demon, the self-proclaimed Emperor of Man has thrust upon our peoples, and not even God can free us from the dangers that plague he, and if I were to recount them all to you, you would be stupefied. I would like you to know, truly, that all my repeated saying and crying out to you, my brethren, seems to have fallen upon deaf ears and, as a result, the blood of our kinsmen seeps into the soil this day. I asked of you all, ‘’Is our Emperor just?’’, and it seems only few have recognized the answer. Those who have light have come to realize it, and those to whom GOD has given the light of the most Holy Grace have shown signs of knowledge, denouncing this Imperial campaign. War has come, and fear is rampant in the hearts of my brethren, though the Emperor spews the venom: ‘’Let death come as it may, for I am prepared; that death which is preceded by a good life is not evil.’’ But, I do not see the Emperor taking the place of the thousands of lives lost, but of course, I knew he wouldn’t – No Man of God would ever sacrifice his peoples like this, and as I told of you, our Emperor knows naught of God, for he praises the Demons below. ‘What will it matter?’ Is what he asks himself, whilst growing obese on the potatoes and meat served to him as he lingers about his throne. I can answer his pondering, for I know the sin of Man and, a Man that would cast his peoples into slaughter is a Man of Sin: War, it is momentary, but for whom? It is momentary for those who have been given the Grace of God; he can support it because he is strong. But, this war is not momentary for our peoples – Our Emperor knows no God, and he hasn’t his Grace-One without the Grace of God cannot bear it because he has no strength. The infirm cannot bear it. Thus, the tribulations will seem heavy to the sheep of the shepherd without the Grace of God, when compared to those who do.” Preached he, once more, though he knew nobody listened, and those that would have already fled the Empire, knowing all too well that this war would damn each soldier who fought for a Godless Emperor. “Take sight of the war-torn field, notice the rotting corpses of our kinsmen. It is a strong mental image: that time is short, and the tribulations we endure for this Emperor are not worth it.”

 

A plump shopkeeper tapped suggestively at the “NO LOITERING” sign. 

[argonian 14254]

The Thouthousen clan condemns this man for shamefully abandoning their family name.