OOC thread here
Misery was probably the best word to describe the life of Helia Wulfwe. Certainly it had started out decently enough, she was never wealthy enough to truly be satisfied nor poor enough to make every day of her life a struggle to survive, but the same could be said for many of Karai’s youth. It was as she grew older that perhaps life seemed as if it would turn out for the better, but of course, The War had to begin.
It started when the large, pink barrier, now seemingly regarding them as an affront to their existence, began to absorb the small port town she was born in, her family fleeing in terror, her mother lost to a mysterious purple gas released from the barrier, along with hundreds of other unfortunate souls. It was then that she saw the Equine’s true intentions, watching her slowly be transformed into one of them, a zealous look in her eyes shortly afterwards. She could not remember what happened afterwards, only that she awoke in a barracks and that she was now part of the Karaian Defense Force. What would follow then was three miserable years of fighting an endless horde of smiling zombies, some of them too familiar. . .
BOOM, the sound had quickly awoken Helia form her sudden lapse into unconsciousness. She awoke to find herself besides a building, once a lovely bar of sorts, now little more than an abandoned building. In the street besides the building was a Type 63, firing a HE-Frag shell presumably towards the horde in front of it. Besides the light tank, there were a few other men and women in their ragged KDF uniforms firing at the unseen hordes, the rattle of their ‘Kalash’s muffled by the shell striking its target. She hurriedly stood up and grabbed her rifle, an AK of some sort (“AKM? Type 56? bah, it’s a Kalash”) and ran towards her comrades, standing beside the Type 63 as a result. “Took you long enough Helia, start firing!” Vasek’s voice already made itself clear to her, carefully clutching her own Kalash as she took a good look at the horde in front of her.
It was like any other horde, an endless mass of pastel and eyes marching slowly towards them, a horrid purple flask in most of their hands. Their eyes were lifeless and beyond saving, fanatical to a very inhuman degree. It appeared that the so called Princesses had become rather adept at turning what were once proud Karaians into little more than empty husks spouting insane blabber about Equine superiority over the evils of humanity, as demonstrated by the slowly approaching horde.
Helia fired her weapon, more hot lead now flying towards the endless horde. The bullets struck multiple different newfoals, oftentimes causing horrible wounds and failing to kill outright, a few screams of pain easily heard from where she stood. However, even then the noise was drowned out by the yells of unity and ponification from the surviving followers, not even a second HE-Frag shell seemingly helping silence these yells, as dozens of newfoals were immediately ripped to shreds. They still came in innumerable numbers towards them, the barrier that lay mere miles behind them adding to the seemingly apocalyptic feeling of the entire affair. At this rate, it would not be long before their small front began to fall apart. The horde was soon supplanted by an uncountable number of Pegasi, visible even from a distance as they escaped the barrier and moved towards the city. Within seconds of their appearance, dozens of shots now begun to head towards them, ranging from 14.5mm all the way to 57mm shells, the Karaian anti-air batteries begun to fire mercilessly, hoping to down as much of the pegasi as possible.
“Negative, negative, we cannot continue holding our position for much longer, artillery support is not enough!” The shouts of their commanding officer were heard in the background. It was at this point that the horde was now close enough to begin throwing their flasks at the Karaian infantry below. It was here that Helia and her squad begun to retreat, realizing their small front was lost. They ran furiously towards their APC, a BTR-60P, one of the older, open-topped models available to the KDF. It took them a few minutes to get in, the BTR soon driving its way back towards what would soon be the new front line, the Type 63 following closely behind. This was how the war had been waged for the past three years, and this is how the people of Karaia thought it would continue, until there was no place left to run.