Ironsides Family/Armstrong/Versus the Phalanx of Fire
Armstrong versus the Phalanx of Fire
As a youth growing up in the impoverished region of Dulbin, Armstrong Ironsides dreamt of living a noble life as a warrior. His dreams of heroism and victory soared over any other pedestrian dreams a boy could have. He frequently drifted away from the matters at hand into his own imagination, where he was the leading commander of a fearless and famous unit of men who fought monsters, undead or the villains of his homeland. All this lived to its fullest in the mind of the young boy.
On one occasion, Armstrong and his brother Bowie were busy helping his uncle Soren tend to the family apiary. It was difficult work, but not heavy on the labour. The especial irk was trying to guide the bees from one location to another. For this, it took devotion and patience, and the use of a two manned net. With Armstrong on one side and Bowie on the other, they continued to direct the swarm of bees.
As this was taking place, Armstrong’s focus became bored with the task and was distracted by a small hill in the distance. He imagined it to be a vital hill in the conquest of Dulbin by menacing invaders. He then placed himself at the top of the hill as the last man standing against a fierce horde. The horde was named the Phalanx of Fire, and along with conventional weapons of swords, spears and shields, this phalanx had the ability to wield magic.
The Phalanx of Fire was born out of the evil mind of a dark and disturbing wizard from the city of Oligarch. Stories of this wizard frighten young and old all over the lands. There was one such story which tells of his exploits raising an army of undead to overcome the city and place himself as Duke. The townsfolk had no way of resisting the wizard’s power and were helpless against the undead. Fortunately for the locals the undead horde became uncontrollable and ended up devouring itself. With intense wrath, the wizard cursed the city and vowed to return with a better army and take it for himself. He toiled for half a century building the spells and alchemy to create an invincible army. The dream of all would be world conquerors. Finally, he solved the formula and was able to create the strongest, fiercest, invincible army to ever walk the East Continent, and, on top of their impeccable fighting skills, he imbued in them the magic sense which enabled them to wield magic. This magic was not as potent as his was, but compared to magicless armies, they were ultimate. The Phalanx of Fire became one of the names they were known as, as well as the Legion of Doom, the Marching Madness, Invincible Demons or even the Divine Unit, to those who knew not their malignant birth.
Armstrong stood ready atop the Hill Main, as he named it, and watched the Phalanx of Fire organize into formation. They stood side by side in their gleaming enraged armour, each concentrated on the sole resister. The Phalanx had conquered all regions on the East Continent save for Dulbin, and if there was to be any hope of recovering the world from evil it must originate from the last human region. Armstrong knew this, and knew the gravity of his situation. While the Legion of Doom prepared for combat he sat down in the grass and thought.
“What is to be my fate for this battle? Am I to win and so save the last sanctuary of goodness, righteousness and civilization? Or, am I to fall mightily and have my name scorched as the last living hero of democracy, man of the people and defender of truth?” So Armstrong thought, and watched the Invincible Demons rally their cries towards him, trying to frighten his disposition. He was unmoved by their roars. He then thought about his two potential fates and wondered which the better is? “Is it better to be known as a hero who fought valiantly and died, in this way providing hope and an example for those who follow after? Or is it better to be the hero who changes it all and saves the future? What is more heroic? To fight evil is one thing, but to be a legend is something else. What sort of legend will I leave?”
As he thought, he became worried that he may make the wrong decision and leave his legacy ill. He wanted to save Dulbin from the invaders, he wanted to give the East Continent a chance to overcome evil, but he was still a hero, and so had a duty to uphold heroic performances. While he debated himself, the Phalanx of Fire began to march. Huff and roar and clank and thrash as the heavy infantry chugged towards the hill, towards Armstrong. Closer they became, farther he was from his decision. His sword lay half a foot away from him, and his shield was stabbed into the ground before him, while he folded his feet over themselves and put his chin in his hands. In the face of doom he thought and reflected.
Closer and closer the Marching Madness came, and Armstrong wondered if he shall live or die. Then, by miracle, Armstrong was given the answer. He remembered the words of a wise sage who said, “Let a man be a man, whatever he does will be manly.” This convinced him that as he is the last living opponent to all hell and all misery, whatever the outcome of his fate he will obey his position and do his duty. Fate was not for him to decide, and heroism was not his to create. Let those who witnessed his actions, or appreciate his defence, recognize him for what he was. A hero who lived against tyranny, against villains, against those who stifle democracy, Armstrong Ironsides, Hero of the Democracy, faced the Phalanx of Fire as brilliant as the sunset. The Phalanx fell before they reached the top of the hill, their magic having no effect on the galvanized hero, and Armstrong claimed a triumphant victory.
Seeing glory before him, Armstrong stopped doing his task entirely and was being called on by his brother Bowie. Snapping back to the moment, Armstrong smiled a youthful smile, full of ambition, potential and determination. Bowie queried what the joke was, but Armstrong assured him it was no joke. It was his fate. Together they completed their task, bringing the swarm of bees back into their shelter and returned to their uncle for another activity.
