A Valiant Last Stand

Prelude

There was a massive war-engine, one hundred fifty-three painted-red battlewagons, and possibly no less than three thousand orks in all make up the ground forces. Their war machines defy logic and are ramshackle in nature, but it seems as if their equipment never fails them. The troops themselves also mirrored this, as their yellow armor just looks like a bunch of scrap metal welded together which it probably is anyway. I had never seen such an unbelievably massive, mechanized force on any battlefield and how could these brutish monsters develop such enormous machines of death in such a short amount of time? I had never felt such fear, but I know that the officers back on the lines wouldn't bat an eye upon hearing my report. I didn't see the grotesque warlord around, beating up its fellow orks; I am curious on what the officers would think. That's when my mind began racing faster and faster. Was the warlord still on its way with more grotesque firepower? Was that not the entire force? When will we receive reinforcements again? The surge of thoughts flooded my mind and I had to sit down for a second, but then immediately sat back up when I remembered I had a job to do. Only in death, does duty end! Repeating this axiom to myself helped me feel better, but it didn't help relieve the feeling that I will die today.