The Noise (Part 13)
DECLASSIFIED
And Duke remembered……
The Horde had come centuries ago before even Duke was born. Mankind had been fighting them for aeons. He had been raised up on the tales of the ancient evil ones who had appeared through a round hole in the subterranean cavern of a traitorous King, and on the tales of the human warriors who had fought these Creatures and whom these heroes had slain, remorselessly. No mercy had ever been given by the other side.
Duke — or the Prince as he was then — had spent long nights in the Great Hall, hiding, high in the rafters, listening to the old blind man recite these glorious tales over days and even weeks. Duke had heard every word. And his imagination had recreated every moment, every duel, every battle, and every death. But they had been only stories and the real thing had been nothing so glorious. It had been butchery and blood. Mostly human blood.
When he came of age he was immediately thrust into the struggle. Humanity had been slowly but methodically erased from their world by the encroaching demonic Horde. A war of attrition had favoured the Horde as whomever they bit became a new soulless member of the Great Horde. Humanity could not produce enough men to fight; it was as simple as that.
