《The Musketeers》 Captain Miller "Bloody nobility and their pride." A man walking down a busy street dressed in a brown three piece suit muttered to himself. When Captain Miller Sharpe (A cookie for anybody who knows who the last name is based on!) had agreed to lead a forlorn hope into the enemy fortress in exhange for a promotion to the rank of captain with the dream of finally being able to lead his own legion he had not thought that those traitorous nobles would promote him to the Rank of Captain and make him lead the 13th Legion. Of course, he should''ve seen it coming a mile away. Not as if any noble would want a commoner to be in charge of one of their Legions after all. But nontheless Miller was on cloud nine ever since he had recieved his transfer orders to the 13th Legion. Those nobles thought that they could cause despair and probably make Captain Miller Sharpe of common blood to resign his officer''s commision but they had made a grave mistake. You see. Captain Miller Sharpe wasn''t of this world. Heck, he wasn''t even supposed to be summoned. In the world of Reik, where magic exists. Strong conentration of mana would sometimes open portals to another world swallowing the unfortunate sould on the other side and depositing them into Reik. When Captain Miller was rushing back home from work in the military museum in London, England to play a new real time strategy game based on the black powder era a strange green portal appeared in front of him. Being unable to stop himself in time he found himself stepping into the portal. When he came to he found himself in the middle of a battlefield. Stuck between an army of humans dressed in brightly coloured red uniforms and shining armour wielding well polished spears and swords standing in a well formed formation and an army of ork looking creatres dressed in dull tattered clothings and patchwork armour wielding blunt and chipped swords rushing headlong into a wall of shield with no sense of order naturally, Miller would run towards his fellow humans. Thinking he was rescued he had his thoughts disappointed when the battle between the humans and the ork looking creatures indicated it needed more bodies thrown into the meat grinder. Miller was soon dragged to the rear of the formation where a neatly build campsite was seen. While Miller was gawking at the countless rows of white linen tents in neat rows surrounded by a stone wall and watchtower stretching before him he was grabbed by the collar and dragged to the centre of the camp where a large tent was seen. Being dragged into the large tenthe found himself face to face with an old man who had probably seen more than he should. With a scar going down his right eye and a grizzled face, the old man was dressed in a red military uniform. The old man was currently sitting behind a wooden desk on a wooden chair with his feet up on the desk whilst smoking on a pipe. "He''s been drafted. Get him what he needs to survive." Startled to hear a voice behind him and realising that it was the man who was manhandling all along. Miller looked behind him to find himself staring at a man wearing a red military uniform with a steel chest piece covering his torso. On the man''s head was a morion. In his left hand he held a shield which had a griffon painted on and on his right a spear with a steel tip. On the man''s hip was a short sword and a red sash tied across the man''s chest Realising that he was being stared at the man looked back at Miller. "You nervous?" The man asked Miller. Of course I''m nervous! I''m fighting Bloody orks which are not even supposed to be reaI! Is what Miller wanted to say but he kept his mouth shut and instead nodded. "Good, that''s means you''re not lying. Here''s some tips for when you go out there. Always, and I mean ALWAYS keep your shield up and stay with the shield wall. You may see men occasionally running out of the shield wall in a blood rage and I can say those men have a deathwish." The man stopped and looked at Miller with a questioning stare. "You do not have a deathwish do you?" Miller shook his head at that question. "No? Good, that means I don''t have to spend even more time cataloguing the losses my cohort suffered and more time drinking with my men." Cohort? Miller thought it was strange with how "Unroman" these men looked and yet they were using the roman legions style of organisation. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Feeling that he should introduce himself Miller stuck out his hand. "Miller Sharpe sir." Looking at Miller''s Hand before looking back at him the man shook Miller''s hand. "Lieutenant Hark Cherper." A moment later the old man returned with Miller''s gear and weapons. Surprisingly all his gear fit and his weapons had immediately felt right to him. "I see the quartermaster is as sharp as ever." Hark appraised Miller in his uniform. "Fifteen bloody years in the Legion. Of course, I''m bloody sharp." The Old Man retorted. Smilling at the retort Hark turned back to Miller and gestured for him to follow him. "Come On! We gotta hurry up and join back with my cohort. WIth the rate of how thing''s are going we are barely holding on and with me being absent I''ve left my cohort with my sergeants." With that prompt Miller and Hark began running towards the sound of men and orks shouting and weapons clashings and into the midst of battle. It was also in the midst of battle when Miller felt a thrill he had never felt before and a sense of leadership started growing within him. Whilst Miller was fighting tooth and nail within the shield wall Hark was observing Miller from the rear. He had seen Miller leading the men along with his sergeants. Seeing that Miller had potential Hark decided that should he die in battle he will pass the command of the cohort to Miller. And that reality wasn''t far away. Soon Hark found a crossbow bolt piercing his armour and getting stuck in his chest. Seeing their commanding officer fall Hark''s cohort immediately burned with rage and started pushing the Orks back thorugh sheer rage alone creating a hole in the Ork''s lines. Siezing this opportunity, the high ranking generals exploited that opening and routed the orks. After the battle was over Miller was led by a sergeant form Hark''s cohort back to the camp and into the Camp''s infirmary where the wounded were taken to during battle. Laying on a cot amidst the crying and screaming of wounded men was Lieutenant Hark Cherper. Surrounding him were the sergeants of his cohort and a healer. "At most I can delay his death for a couple more minutes. The arrow he was shot with was coated in an extremely deadly poison." The priest explained to Hark''s colleagues. As Miller and his guide approached Hark one of the soldiers noticed him and informed the rest. "Miller, come here." Hark whispered weakly. When Miller saw Hark he was stunned. When Miller saw hark the man had healthy tan skin with a face full of vigor. Now he was a former shell of himself with black veins running through his pale white skin and his face full of fatigue. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Snapped out of his thoughts Miller stepped forward and stood next to Hark. "With the power invested upon me by the Emperor, I, Lieutenant Hark Cherper, a commisioned officer of his Imperial Majesty''s Legions, hereby concede my commision and authority as acting commanding officer of the 5th Legion 3rd cohort and place them in the hands of Private Miller Sharpe who is as of now the acting commanding officer of the 5th Legion 3rd Cohort and a commisioned officer of his Imperial Majesty''s Legions." "I...I don''t know how to respond. Isn''t this too much? I''ve only met you today and you''re already making me an officer?" Miller asked the dying officer. Hark weakly smiled at Miller."I now potential when I see it." Hark then look at his sergeants "It will do well for you lot to listen to Miller now." Hark''s Sergeants all answered back with a yes sir. Hark then turned back to Miller. "And It will do well for you to listen to your sergeants. After all, they''ve been in more than you have." "I will sir, I will." Satisfied with the answer given by Miller. Hark breathed his last breath and went into eternal slumber. "May his soul forever rest in peace." The healer made a religious cross with his hand and mummured a prayer. "May his soul forever rest in peace." The sergeants mummured after the healer. That was 3 years ago. The 13th Legion "This sure is a shite hole innit, captain?" A man standing next to Captain Sharpe commented. Standing next to the newly appointed captain of the 13th legion was Sergeant Major Harry O''Kief. The Sergeant Major was a man of heavily built mass. His entire body was ripped with muscles and scars could be seen on his hands, forearms and generally all over his body. He had a chiseled face with closely cropped black hair. A scar could be seen running down his left eye rendering blind. But that didn''t stop him from leaving the Imperial Army. Currently both men are dressed in their red dress uniforms resembling their modern day counterpart upon which rows upon rows of medals and awards could be seen hanging off their chests. However, the most eye catching award was the Legion of Honour. It takes the form of a golden medal which is supposed to be pinned above the left chest and bears the symbol of the Imperial family, a griffon, with two swords crossed underneath it. The requirements to be awarded such a prestigious award was that the individual had to perform a deed in the midst of battle which would''ve seen the indivual dead. Hence the reason why a majority of the awardess are currently decomposing bodies in a wooden box buried six feet underground. Only a minority of the awardees are still alive after the deed they''ve done. And that''s where the similarities end. Since Captain Sharpe was a commisioned officer of the Imperial Army he had golden embroidery on his uniform and a golden aiguillette looping through his right shoulder and its pointed tip hanging off his right chest. On the cuffs of his sleeves there was a particular red diagonal stripe fringed in gold going up from the bottom left to upper right. This was what was known as a service strip. Each strip was earned after three years of service in his Imperial Majesty''s Army. As for Sergeant Major Harry O''Kief since he holds the most senior enlisted rank in the Imperial Army his uniform had silver embroidery and a silver aiguillette as part of his uniform. However, as befitting of someone who holds the most senior enlisted rank in the Imperial Army O''Kief had seven service strips fringed in silver running down the cuffs of his sleeves. On their waists each carried a cavalry sword they had gotten after a bet with some officers and on their shoulders was a bag filled with their personal belongings and equipment. However, in contrast to their spit shined medals and boots glistening off sunlight stood a dull and barely maintaned garrison quarters with cracks appearing across the walls. The Garrison fort was surrouned by a stone wall with a wooden gate. On either side of the gate were two guard houses upon which two sentries could be seen standing inside with their newly issued musket standing at attention having seen the Captain Miller and Sergeant Major O''Kief disembark from the carraige which brought them to their destination. "Sir! Sergeant Major!" The Sentries saluted by holding their fists over their shoulders. But such an action was troublesome as they were carrying muskets. Perhaps I should teach them some rifle drills. Miller thought while observing their salute. Miller and O''kief both returned the salute. "I see the 13th has been issued their muskets." Miller commented. "Y..Yes sir!" A sentry replied with a tinge of nervousness in his voice. "What''s your name legionary?" Miller asked the sentry in an attempt to make the man relax. "Corporal John Mannings, S..Sir!" This time the sentry was sweating buckets even though they were in the cold territories of the North which means that the weather was cool and windy and there''s no reason for the man to sweat buckets unless... Miller and O''Kief looked at each other and understood what the previous Legion commanding officer was like. When Miller was assigned to the 13th legion he was told that the previous Legion Commanding officer mysteriously "disappeared" in a minor skirmish with the northern tribes but Miller didn''t give much thought to it. And now he understood why the staff officer who was handing Miller his transfer order told him that fact. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. In the Empire it wasn''t unheard of for officers to abuse their men. In fact, the empire actually discourages such treatment with officers who are caught court marshalled and dishonestly discharged from the Imperial Army and which is also the reason why the legion wasn''t under investigation and the empire had turn a blind eye to what happened to the previous commanding officer. "Relax Mannings. It''s not as if the bloody emporer himself is standing in front of you right now ain''t he?" Miller cracked a joke in another attempt to lighten the mood. "No Sir!" This time the sentry was relaxed. "Good. So what about you?" Miller turned and faced the other sentry who was staring at Miller''s uniform which was full of medals. The sentry having noticed that he was caught staring immediately looked up at Miller with a fearful face. Miller grimaced inside to see a man reduced to such a pitiful state. "Heh. So you want to be like one day huh? A chest full of medals?" Miller joked with the other sentry to hopefully help him relax. The other sentry not expecting such a comment was shocked but quickly replied with a "yes sir!". "What''s your name boy?" Which is not an insult considering that Miller is in his early 30s while the man standing in front of Miller was in his early 20s. "Private James Roght, Sir!" "Well Roght, if you wanna be like me you gotta start by removing that pitiful state of mind and be the most meanest baddest fighting machine the Empire has ever seen!" "Yes sir!" The Private now with a much more confident look to his face answered when all of a sudden Miller removed the top of his uniform and handed it to O''Kief who now had a smile on his face knowing what his captain would do next like how we usually would do to a newcomer to his cohort. The Private now had a confused look on his face. "Punch me." Miller pounded his scarred bare chest ,save a singlet and a pair of suspenders, with his fist. "Sir?" The Private asked again. Unsure if the moment his legion had gotten rid of a undesirable officer and gotten insane one in return, "You heard me Roght, Punch me!" Miller pounded his chest twice to create an effect. Roght unsure of what to do did what he does best, following orders. Crossing his fingers, Roght took a step back and punched half-heartedly. He had expected the insane officer to fall on his butt and be embarrased and try to hide it with scolding him or maybe use his actions against him and issue out a corporal punishment just for fun like their previous commanding officer. But instead Roght felt like he had punched a wall. "You call that a punch?" Miller pounded his chest to signify his point. "No sir!" "Well, try again!" This time Roght decided to punch with all his might. This time it had achieved a much better result with the officer taking a step back but even that is better than nothing. "This. This is what I call a punch." Miller nodded approvingly at Roght. "Keep on practicing and maybe one day you will be able to knock me on my arse." "I will sir!" Roght ,now having regained his confidence, beamed at Miller. O''Kief having seen that Miller had finished what he wanted to do handed the captain back his uniform. "Now that the pleasantries are over. Do any of you lads mind escorting us inside?" "No Sir!" Mannings and Roght both replied together. "Roght, go with the captain and the Sergeant Major. I will stand guard here." "Thank you Corporal." "You''re welcome Captain." "Right then, lead on Private!" Miller smacked Roght on the back prompting him to lead Miller and O''Kief into the garrison fort. Training Miller could feel a headache creeping in. When he arrived to the 13th he had expected the men to be given a form of basic training on how to operate their muskets but instead he found out that they were given a strange looking crossbow and were told to point it at the enemy and pull the trigger and then charge with bayonets fixed onto the barrel. The previous commander didn''t even bother teaching his men on how to reload their weapons. Miller couldn''t help but feel that a majority of the nobles in the Empire wanted to see the experimental weapon fail. Which is why he now has the entire 13th legion assembled in the courtyard of the garrison fort and explaining how the musket works and how to reload it and to prove that muskets are the next step in warfare. "This weapon that I am holding is a personal gift from His Imperial Majesty himself." Miller held up the musket to emphasize on that point. "This is a musket, a weapon forged from his Imperial''s Majesty''s finest forgeries. It utilises a foul smelling powder called black powder but is more commonly known as gun powder. Gun powder is a highly unstable compound capable of being ignited by a single spark. This weapon does this by using a flintlock mechanism. When ignited in a controlled environment such as the barrel of a musket it causes an explosion which launches whatever is in the barrel at high speeds." Miller then took out a 15mm ball bearing. "This is the object that will be shot out of the barrel. This is a 15mm ball bearing capable of going through flesh, bones, sinews and even plate armour. This ball bearing will be shot out of the barrel at speeds of 305 metres per second." The men by now had an awed look on their faces seeing how such a simple weapon was capable of so much. "Even though this weapon may look simple the steps needed to ensure that this piece of death dealing machinary works is complicated." Miller took out a waxed paper catridge containing pre-measured black powder and a ball bearing. The waxed paper catridge had one end twisted to seal it off and at the other side was where the ball bearing sat. "First you need to prime it." Miller bit into the twisted end of the catridge and tore it off. Miller grimaced at the saltish taste of the powder but kept it to himself. He then proceeded to pour a small amount of black powder into the pan. "Afterwards you load it." Miller then poured the rest of the powder within the catridge into the barrel and the ball bearing. Once all the contents of the catridge was in the barrel he stuffed the emptied catridge into the barrel to act as a wadding to prevent the ball and powder from falling out when the barrel was pointed downwards. "And then you ram all the contents you''ve just poured down to the very end of the barrel." Miller took out a ramrod which was hidden under the barrel of the musket and proceeded to use it to ram down the black powder, ball bearing, and paper wadding. "Following next you cock the lock back." Miller proceeded to cock the flintlock mechanism with his thumb. "Finally you pull the trigger." He aimed at the dummy outfitted with plate armour in front of him and pulled the trigger. The sound of the mechanism locking forward and then a loud explosion could be heard followed by a loud pang and a spray of dirt spraying up behind the dummy as the ball bearing went through both the plate armour and dummy and hitting the ground behind. There were numerous gasps at the firepower demonstrated by such a simple looking weapon. Many were already looking at the muskets that they were holding in their hands with awe. "However, before you learn how to kill with your weapons you must first learn how to walk, run, and drill with it!" "Sergeant Major O''Kief." Miller gestured to the sergeant major standing beside him. "Yes sir." O''Kief nodded his head in acknowledgement and stepped forward. "Men, form up in your cohorts and await further instructions from me! Officers, meet the captain in his office as soon as possible! Carry on!" O''Kief shouted in his loud parade voice. "Yes, Sergeant Major!" The Men of the 13th Legion replied and quickly went into a flurry of activities. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Training to be Legionnaires!" Miller shouted at the top of his lungs. It had been two months since Miller had made his Legion do intensive training and the effects are starting to show. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. "Training to be Legionnaires!" The Legion echoed back. Right now Miller had his legion going for a 24 kilometres route march through the frigid cold terrain of the Northern lands. "Fight for our land!" The Legion had expected its new commanding officer to just slack off and give them the hard work but they were surprised instead when the captain did everything he had ordered them to do with them and with double the load as well. "Fight for our land!" The Legion currently are carrying their packs filled with rations, extra clothings, and tents and on their hands their muskets. "Once in our life!" Every Legionnaire was pushing himself to meet the timing of seven hours as their CO promised a reward of a keg full of ale for any man who managed to do so. "Once in our life!" From the past two months spent with their CO they have learnt that he''d rather lead by example and he also ALWAYS keeps his promises. That was more than enough to earn their respect. "Five years of our..." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Lieutenant Jacob Augustus first saw the Captain he had disagreed with many of the captain''s decision. Heck, he even outright disliked the man. Viewing him as erratic and his methods of training the men useless. However, time and time again the captain proved that his methods of training his men were superior. When Jacob first transferred to this godsdamned legion the men could barely run without having to stop and take a breath. And now after two months of enduring the captain''s bizzare training methods the men are able to run atleast three kilometeres before tiring. What even made Jacob Augustus like the captain even more was that he was a man of action rather than proving a point with words he does it by action. Like the one time when the captain said that he will do double of what he ordered his men to do and did it with them as well and the fact that he lost a bet once and kept to his word buying the legion enough alcohol from the nearbly frontier town to last a month. Speaking of frontier towns, the northern border of the Empire was considered a new frontier with untapped resources and land. As such settlers came in the droves settling down and creating new towns and villages. But with the creation of towns and villages came threats such as raids from the northern tribes and monsters. To combat this problem the Captain stationed token troops --after they have completed the captain''s version of basic training-- in the nearby towns and villages thus lowering casualty rates to an all time low. With this course of action the villagers and townsmen began to view the captain in a new light and even offering their services to the captain in the form of joining the Legion''s ranks. But the Northern borders of the Empire being a frontier region there is more than one problem such as adminstrative duties. You see, the Northern borders are a frontier region with such a name one will be expected to do alot of work such as setting up infrastructure and managing resources. With such daunting tasks such as those, the nobles are detered from taking up administrative duties of that particular region. And so for the moment they decided to leave the hardwork to Captain Miller Sharpe of the 13th Imperial legion. It was these kinds of action that impressed Lieutenant Jacob Augustus and he decided to learn more about the captain by asking his brother, Duke Henry Augustus, Lord General of the Imperial Legions, about the captain. Jacob looked down at the piece of paper he held in his hands and wrote down the last piece of information needed to send the letter to his brother. His Imperial Majesty''s Lord General Duke Henry Augustus His Imperial Majesty''s Grand Palace Having written down the recipient and the address Jacob handed it to the courier waiting nearby. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N: Welp, National exams are happening two weeks from now and I''m afraid that will take up more of my time. So expect me to no update this story for at least a month.