Mittelland (Hessunland Short Stories)

[North Timistania]

Stahlberg, Franktorf, Hessunland

13th August, 2020​

They marched down the main road, 200 ranting idiots, they hid their faces behind hoods, masks and sunglasses and waved homemade signs as they chanted vitriolic slogans to anyone in listening range. The signs bore an ugly symbol, the Dachsi arrow cross and the slogans underneath were just as ugly "Go home Szlavs!" and "Restore Gottia" feature prominently. The Neo-Dachsi's were headed for the town hall, intent on creating a scene to put the fear of God into the neighbourhoods non-Gotic inhabitants, demonstrations like this were rare but had increased since the start of the Ducrijeckan war. Stahlberg had always been a Dachsi hot zone, the working-class neighbourhood had struggled with unemployment and crime for decades, in such an ugly social climate the Dachsi's found it easy to recruit disaffected youth. The Gaucheis Youth Culture Movement was just the latest collection of unemployed and undereducated morons seeking to stir up racial tension in Stahlberg, but today they were going to get more than they bargained for.

Dachsi demonstrations and the inciting of racial hatred have been illegal in Hessunland since 1989, usually, we just disperse the idiots but today the courts have ruled that this demonstration is not only illegal but a threat to public safety. The Federal court gave me five hundred riot officers and a water cannon, my orders were simple, break up the demonstration and arrest every neo-dachsi that we find, if only all my shifts were this much fun. I pick up the microphone connected to the squad car and address the would-be marchers in a voice that booms over the loudspeakers.

"This is Inspector Lindhoff! this march is in breach of Federal Law! Disperse or you will be forced to do so!" I yell over the speaker

In response, the marchers begin yelling and throwing up whatever passes for a rude gesture among today's youth, I grin wickedly and turn to my subordinate Jens.

"Water cannon primed?" I ask with barely contained glee

"Ready to fire whenever you give the order Kommissar" He replies with a chuckle

Almost on cue runt in a jeans and a black hoodie starts throwing rocks, one of his colleagues takes a bat to a nearby shop window, the glass barely cracks as he beats it with increasingly pitiful swings.

"Well that's property damage" Jens mutters in an amused tone

"it is" I reply smirking

"Court did say to bring the situation under control, guess we have no choice but to use the cannon," I say in mock disappointment

I grab the car's intercom and begin relaying orders "Get that water cannon spraying when they get within 200 metres, have tear gas on standby and tell the rearguard to be ready to pen them in" I say as I note the marches current position, 400 metres and closing.

Moments pass, the march gets closer and closer, finally, they close at 200 metres. Seconds pass as the demonstrators hurl bottles and scream Dachsi slogans at the wall of police blocking their path, a small shrew looking woman holds a picture of Gaucheis Himdach aloft all the while ranting about how the Szlavs are an affront to Gottian purity. She doesn't get chance to finish, the water cannon goes off with a satisfying roar, streams of high powered liquid smash into the crowd, Miss Himdach isn't ranting anymore. I signal for all elements to move in, in a matter of moments the crowd is surrounded on all sides by walls of riot police. They start throwing punches and trying to break the line, it goes about as well as you'd expect.

"Get the vans ready, lock up is going to be busy tonight," I say as the demonstrators are dragged out one by one and hauled into waiting vans

"You know I don't think I've ever seen a Dachsi fly before, Paul," Jens says as he attempts to keep a straight face

"Well you know, it's amazing how light people are when they don't have brains" I reply before clapping him on the shoulder

There will be a mountain of paperwork waiting for me when I get back to the office, water cannons tend to do that, but it was worth it to see those idiots drop their signs and run.

 

[North Timistania]

The Eastern Front
1917

The sound of explosions tore Hans from unconsciousness, he awoke to a world awash in mud and pain, he reached down to his stomach and felt the warm blood flowing from the bullet wound. He lay back his entire body was lying in a pool of muddy water, he felt icy cold but somehow the pain of his body seemed distant, he was dying the wound was fatal and would soon kill him. He cast his mind back, wanting to spend his last moments thinking of better times, the logical place to go would have been the warmth of family life, but another more visceral memory burned in his fading mind.

The night before the deployment, a haze of drunken song and ever-shifting dance partners all serenaded by loud patriot bands as the boys of the 15th painted Franktorf red one last time before shipping off to fight the Drennies. it had been the second dance of the evening, no, the third when he had first seen her, what was her name? it escaped him, but he remembered the eyes. She had strode over to him, a magnificent sight with her neatly coifed black hair and elegant red dress, but it had been her eyes that were the most striking sight.Two brilliant orbs of deepest emerald stared out at him, they had a fearsome almost predatory quality about them, if he didn't know better he would have claimed that they blazed like a green flame, but then that might have been the schnapps.

The band had struck up a tune "For the Severyn Kaiser" and the floor had begun to fill with revellers, he was surprised to see such a beautiful lady approach him of her own accord. Hans was no prize, a rounded face and average height made him decidedly unremarkable, his scruffy red hair and spectacles were far from the height of Gottian fashion. Still, she had approached and in that husky voice that turned the blood to fire, asked him.

"Care to dance" she had asked

As if he could have refused, he stood up and they had danced, the evening had become a blur after that, shouting, singing and drinking with wild abandon as they tried to drown the fear of the coming war in a sea of drink and music. After the evening she had led him to her home, he had laughed and fallen over more than a few times on the walk there, a tasteful apartment in a part of Franktorf far too upmarket for a simple soldier like Hans. Who had this woman been? and why could he not remember her Messiah damned name!?

The apartment had been tastefully decorated, a Szlavic tribal mask rested on the mantel with two bejewelled emeralds for eyes, it seemed to lear at Hans and he felt a strange discomfort when he stared at it for too long. She had noticed his curiosity and grinned her expression more like a predator flashing its teeth then a woman's smile.

"It's from Hightonian Meterra, the local people worshipped a being there known as Zharava" she had said still smiling, the name had sent a chill up Hans's spine

"Sounds scary" Hans had replied suddenly feeling a surge of anxiety wash over him

"Very, she would grant favours to her worshippers, but there was a price" she had said ominously

"A price?" He had asked fearful but curious

"She was an eater of life, the young being her favourites" she had replied with a slight smirk as the word young had left her lips

Hans had shuddered involuntarily but she had simply placed her hands about his shoulders and beckoned him to follow her upstairs. When morning had arrived he had started awake, the clock on the wall had chimed 5'oclock, he needed to get back to the barracks, muster was only a few hours away. A note had sat upon the dresser, the woman was nowhere to be seen, he had reached out and picked it up.

"Hans, had to leave early, and I'm sorry for what is to happen" the note had read, Hans had not understood what she had meant by "sorry" though

A mad thought crossed his mind as he lay bleeding to death in the mud, had she known this was going to happen? the thought was dismissed almost as soon as it had arrived, no one could have known of the slaughter that was to engulf the fields of Gothis. Another explosion shook the earth, the sound of gunfire constant in the background, he closed his eyes feeling the last of his strength leaving him. As the world darkened and his life slipped away, Hans remembered her name, a mirthless grin forming on his face, her name had been

"Ember..." he had said those last words leaving his corpse-like steam from a kettle

His head fell back and he became still, the war continued to rage around his body but for Hans Kellerman, it was over.




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