Auferstan: Building A Military in Another World

Soft whispers brought him back. This rhythmic rain, almost as if speaking to him. In solace. He didn't want to open his eyes, the ground, being this soft yet moist comfortable cluster of... "Grass?" Now, he was interested. Slowly, he fluttered open his two heavy eyes, so burdened by exhaustion.

He found himself beneath this tall tree; it's many leaves and branches sheltering him from the light rain that precipitated from that overcast grey sky. He struggled to, but carried his body to sit upright. Looking around, he was within this green field, the tree behind him being the only tree nearest to him in a matter of kilometers. Only faint signatures in the horizon, but nothing so much as a trunk close to him. 

"W-where am I?" He brought himself to question, he instinctively checked for his phone. 

A gasp, it wasn't there. Then, he groped another pocket, and still nothing. Being stranded in this field without his phone wasn't the best of situations, but in all actuality, he wouldn't even have the signal to call anybody. His head had fell under this dizzy haze; it was faint when he was lying down, but sitting upright has really exaggerated it's fainting effect. 

He leaned down and rested on the tree's bottom trunk, the rough-ancient wood comfortably holding him up. Then, dizzily. He murmured; "I... I need a phone." 

It was short, like a blip! When this disconfigured; 

[your request is invalid]

Voice bounced up out of nowhere! In a shock, his heavy eyes turned light and spasmodically looked around, finding the source of the sound. In a panicked, terrified voice: "Who's there! Show yourself! I trained in Taekwando before and am not afraid to use my fists!" He put as bluntly and as powerfully as he could, completely ignorant of the fact that Taekwando used legs and not fists.

In the few minutes of silence, he consoled in himself that it was just his imagination. He was too tired to get up, even if his heart was beating fast; he didn't have the energy to try and sprint away from the tree to find the speaker of this voice. Then, he recalled what he was saying, "my... Phone?" -Remembering that he said that he 'needed' it, he prepared- "I need my phone."

[your request is invalid]

There it was again! This time it could not have been his imagination. With as little energy as possible, he crawled away from the tree on the soft dirt ground. Turning around and examining top to bottom of it's trunk and many branches. Although it's ancient, and without a doubt; thick branches, could perhaps support a person, there was no one there.

And there was no-one near where he had sat near the roots before. Curious, yet also afraid, he mustered out; "w-what do you mean by... 'Request invalid,' w-what. What does it mean?" 

Not a second after;

[your request is invalid as it does not fall within the time bound script] 

Engaging, gaining a bit more confidence; "then what is this... Time bound script you say?"

[it is that. 'you may only summon objects from the time period of the 1900s to the 1950s]

"That's quite an awful distinction." He remised his days in history class, one of his more hated subjects, "that's when the first and second world war happened, any coincidence in that?"

It did not reply. He began to think about the past. There were many things from the past that he liked, fashion, food, and more beloved, guns. But, the first thing he wished for was for some food and water. 

[specification is needed]

"Then." He probed his mind harder, "a can of water, with a dish of a sunny-side up egg, utensils included."

[request granted]

Not even a second later, this fragrant smell of eggs, a can of water holding it's ground on the dirt, and the plate sitting on the blades of grass. Spawned, from absolutely nowhere. He was now, more than before, convinced that this was nothing more than a overly vivid dream. But, the smell... And when he leapt for the utensils to eat; the taste! It was egg! No dream ever includes the senses that sharply!

In a matter of seconds, he'd devoured the whole dish of egg, the can of water along with it. In tradition, he packed the things up; wishing to the voice for a leather bag big enough to house the items, that he may store them in (afraid to leave the garbage so trashed around an ancient tree as he was, in some ways, superstitious).

After the meal, he felt his energy returning back to him. And, with enough willpower combined; he was able to stand up and observe his surroundings. The memory of the past was hazy, almost as if it had not happened. He... He also didn't know his name. He didn't know his past looks. Was he so blonde? Did he have such fair skin? He didn't know. 

Though he did know he came from somewhere in Earth. That he came from a world of technology. He remembers his parents, he remembers his friends, he remembers his experiences. He remembers his jobs, he remembers his being, his presence. But not... Him.

He didn't dally when it came to fitting up. Before; he had just this lanky pair of pants, and this worn white T-shirt, it's printed graphics so scratched up it's logos became unrecognizable. He requested for; "A white dress shirt, leather boots, navy blue woolen pants, and a belt with a holster fit for a luger."

[request granted]

He didn't even need to wear the things he requested, what he had before had been stripped away immediately, giving way for his new clothes. He fiddled with the holster, having been buckled; he unbuckled and quickly held the luger within. He had this weird fascination with guns, or really, with any technology from that time. Warships, tanks, those weird French dreadnaughts, and those wacky first world war tanks. 

And, seeing a gun, nigh even 'holding' a gun, gave him quite the high. 

He took two steps, then four, then he rushed down this small hill. That ancient tree sat still as a statue atop that small hill, and, seeing it from farther away, he couldn't fathom it's long reaching branches and leaves. And don't forget the tallness. But, the amusement hadn't lasted in him, for behind him was a journey awaiting. 

The rain had turned lighter and lighter by the second. And by the next hour of his travel; the rain was finally gone, the sun following (shining so brightly and hitting his pale face). The warmth was tranquil, and looking up to see the sun glare behind the crevices of his closed fingers; he felt oddly nostalgic. 

He requested for many different things in the span of this weird grass field journey (weird in that there was no spouts of water anywhere, no river to provide nutrients, and no mountain even to supply that water). Including water, an M1 Garand, then finally a navy blue woolen trench coat.

As, oddly enough, his surroundings were awfully cold. He reassured himself that where he was, was probably a higher-in-elevation area. Or that he was somewhere nearer the poles of this odd world he became swiftly fixed by. 

Each step brought him closer and closer to the once far-away horizon of trees. Stepping, running closer and closer yet, the trees were a bit more usual. Having these younger, thinner, trunks. With meddling heights. The leaves were shade darker than oak, and the cone like shape reminded him of pine trees. 

The shrubs and bushes had these fruits on them. Some had this small crimson pears, while others had more grape-looking variants. But none of them he could recognize as berries from his world. He even summoned multiple berries in a bid to identify the if and not. But alas, all unknown. 

He then was now walking in this thicker branch of the forest, the elevations changing vastly. With some places he travelled within having these steep drops, and often times had these smooth yet slippery ones. And it was all quite leafy, perhaps it was the beginning of autumn? 

"Who are you?" He spat out in boredom. 

The voice had not said anything. 

He rationalized, "I wish for a letter containing your reasoning of your existence."

[request cannot be granted]

"For what reason?" He immidiately interjected. "Are you slave to your own words? A machine without thought and follows set lines?"

Silence.

"Can you reply in yes'es and no'es?"

[yes] 

Now! Now the conversation was going somewhere. "So, can you tell me where I am?"

[yes]

"So where?"

In a second, he felt something rough and papery on his closed left hand. Looking at it, opening it, it was a crumbled piece of paper. Upon it contained the words; you are in world not of your past, you are in Auferstan. I am not able to elaborate further. And I do not wish to elaborate more than what I have given. Only through your orders could we 'communicate.' 

He sighed. "Aleast I know where I am." He continued to trek forward the winding forest. The day had yet to drop, and sun appeared to be only a quarter past noon. So he had plenty of time in the light. He had, so far, not seen a single animal. Only insects, of which he avoided. But, from the corner of his eye, he saw something strange. Manmade.

He walked to it, cautiously. 

It was this abhorently maintained dirt path. The path having grooves, holes of dirt, dug in by (what he assumed to be) carriages and horses. It could only make perfect sense that what was after this road was civilization. But he was... Afraid. 

Who could these world's inhabitants be? Could they be like Earth's? Civilized as the word civilized denotes? Or may they be savages? He rationalized, thinking about the marks of horses and carriage marks. 'that could not be, for no un-orderly civilization could make such inventions as the wheel.'

But he wanted to figure out a 'disguise' for himself. 

When, in passing memory. He wanted to be a military general back when he was a teenager. 'Maybe,' he mumbled to himself, 'I should finally fulfil my dream.' 

"I want the clothes of a world war two, German general."

[request granted, for all purposes, it's symbols have not been included]

He grinned.

( * )

He wasn't afraid to stain his slacks, for he was trying his hardest to look all-foreboding and all-powerful. The red-accents of his M36 German trench coat, his honey-colored hair being pressed by a hat. His careful and methodical footsteps on the dirt ground, made that very road quake.

When, from the distance, 'a person!' He was joyful internally, but intended not to show that joyfulness outwardly. 

A man, wearing these medieval-like, peasant wear. His bronze hair being the only remarkable thing about him. He had frozen dead in his tracks when he saw the German General steadfast and sternly walk towards him. Anxious and afraid. Then, he stopped just a meter away from the terrified man. "State yourself and your name."

"U-uh, I-I am..." He was struggling to speak, maybe he was putting to much pressure onto him?

In a lighter tone, he spoke; "I'm not forcing it out of you, please. Your name, and I also wish to know where the nearest village, or city is."

"Alrife." Then, his eyes widened in shock! "Oh, I am so sorry. Sir. Alrife. Sir." He put emphasis on his two sirs. In his eyes, he was talking to a noble; so it was perfectly reasonable? What were nobles anyway? He didn't know much about the medieval days of feudalism and medievalism if even that were a word.

"The nearest settlement?" He said once more just in case Alrife had forgotten.

"Ah, yes, sir." He spat out quickly, "just down this road is our sett- village. Our village. Sir!" He forgot to put a sir at; 'our village,' and nervously and swiftly corrected the mistake. 

"Take me down to your village please." He warmed up to Alrife. "I am..." 

'What will be my name...' He struggled to think up something, but, ultimately. He conjured up; "I am Hierd Die Grace. Please, call me 'Hierd.'"

"O-oh, I am so pleased to meet your acquaintance; Hierd." He fumbled, "Sir! Hierd sir! Sir, Hierd! I meant."

Hierd tittered. 

In strangely awkward silence, they walked precisely towards the end of the dirt road. Meaning to break it, Hierd asked a simple question; "excuse me for my... Demeanor. You may be casual, or you may be formal with me. However which way you speak, I will not mind. I am not a noble (if you wish to have known that). You may question away."

"T-then." He calmed down, "may I know why you're not a noble, but wear noble clothing? You, sir, look as if you come from the royal family of Krimvald itself."

Hierd managed a chuckle, "in a traditional sense, I am not a noble. I come from a country far from here where I am regarded something higher, but. In our philosophy, we treat people as people. And no man has a higher, elevated ladder to apprehend that freedom."

"Something... Higher, sir?"

"Yes." Hierd cleared his throat, "I am a... Leader."

Hierd wasn't looking, but Alrife's eyes were dead shot, "so you mean!" -He blasted out in quick succesion- "that you are a king!?"

"That..." A slight grin, he looked towards Alrife. "That may be."

Hierd couldn't tell all that much but he could hear whispering and mumbling behind him. 

"T-then, I have another question for you. Lord." His voice was serious this time, so different that Hierd was forced to look behind him and face Alrife.

"What is it?" He gave a stern and close look at Alrife, they both stopped in their tracks "And you may refer to me as sir, I am not a stickler regarding the titles."

"I..." He struggled to form the words, almost as if the next words he was about to release were about to be the most heaviest he's ever said in his whole entire life. "My village, our lives. We're... We're in debt with Krimvald, we're in... So much agony, sir." His tone sorrowed.

"What I want for my people, for the village that I grew up in, sir..." He clasped both his hands. "For you to help us!" His bold statement read a thunder bolt inside Hierd's mind. 

"What do you mean by that, Alrife?" Hierd inquired with a soft tone to his voice, "I may be able to grant it under the power I have. But what help may that be?"

"Help us, sir." He grasped his two hands tighter, "our village is falling at the seams, and I don't think we could last the next Auferstehen."

'Auferstehen?' Hierd thought, 'maybe it's a otherwordly tradition, but no tradition, nor culture would detriment someone that bad as to say that it'd rip the seams or something like that. I should question him, but I find its... Not the best time." 

Hierd smiled, not in glee, almost in triumph. "I will help you, now quickly; take me to your village's chief. For we'll have a chat."

"Y-yes sir!" 

Their walk turned into a run, Alrife was leading it, Hierd followed closely behind. The ceiling of the forest was falling apart as the road was quickly reaching the end of it's pathing. Less and less trees, and more and more far apart.

Until...

The sun, beaming it's brilliance and illuminating the village; Hierd's eyes were mesmerized by the neat wooden-roofed and stone-walled village just down the hill of the road. He could see people, women, children, and men. Walking around from his view at the top of this hill. 

"Welcome to Venit-Ille, Lord Hierd Die Grace."

"Certainly a dainty-looking village you have, Alrife."

Quickly, Hierd followed Alrife down the road, hiding his excitement internally. As the two appeared into the limelight of the sun and out from the shadows of the forest; the unintentional onlookers were beyond shocked to see Alrife with a noble trailing behind him.

"Di'dya do some idiocy!?" Yelled one of (possibly) Alrife's friends. "Proud'a you!" He patted him on the back.

"N-no, no I didn't, I gotta go to the chief!" 

They whisked past them all, offering Hierd as much room as possible, seeing Hierd appear from that corner to the other, from that road to there yonder spot; the people of Venit Ille hid themselves from his gaze and watchfully kept their distance when they couldn't hide. They'd look down from Hierd's eyes. They, only seeing his black-leather boots. 

Venit Ille had this long section of road just at the very middle, every major and big house was there, even if the big houses were of medium scale. There was a stone-built church at one end, it's bell looking as ancient as the techniques used to build it. The houses were quite simple, it's gable-roof, and their being a bungalow makes sense for a village living, in what Hierd assumed, the medieval period.

"Over there is the chief's house," -he pointed at the larger house at one end of the long road section, "he's quite the guy, sir. I wish we will be able to cooperate fully for the growth of Venit Ille." He smiled gleefully and in-hope. 

The house rested on this small hill, Hierd stepped slowly and elegantly upwards this small porch, and stopped at the front door. The door was already swung a bit open, and Hierd could see a bit inside; there was an old man sleeping on a table. He knocked on the wooden door; the man jolted awake. "Coming!" He had yelled.

Hierd stepped back a little, hearing wooden footsteps creak closer and closer towards him. Then, the door swung open. The old wiry man's jaw dropped, he dropped down to his knees in quick succession; "dear, lord! Why have you graced this village on this wonderful day today?" 

"You may stand." 

The wiry old man nervously, cautiously, and weakily stood up from his bowing-down position. His posture was straight and confident, and his face was forebodingly scratched-up with so many scars. And he was rather muscular for his age, a bit taller than Hierd too. 

"What brings you... Lord," the chief's eyes met with Alrife's, the way he held his gaze on him was as if he was urging him to help him in that scenario. "Here to Venit-Ille?"

"I was brought on by your ere' Alrife, I was led to understand that this village is in dire need of help?"

"I..." The chief didn't know what to do. 

In a bid to reassure him; "let's sit down inside? I am Hierd Die Grace, and you are?"

"Naturvege, lord." 

Hierd let down his hand, offering to shake his. Naturvege gladly accepted, he let Hierd in first, directing him with his long muscular arm. Alrife began his steady steps up the porch; Naturvege stopping right before he could enter. "What's happening, what did he mean by: 'I was led by Alrife?'" 

"It meant I was saving us." Alrife stated, walking inside. 

Naturvege sighed then closed the door behind them. 

The inside of the house was quite warm and lovely, the lighting was furnished by this weird gem encased in this semi-glass looking seal, giving off a red-orange glow around the whole house like torches, close to the entrance; there was a long table near the kitchen. Hierd sat on the chair next to it. 

"Do you want anything, sir?"

"No." Looking at them with this cold glare; "sit."

Tension grew in the table, and as they sat; they felt as if they were locked-in with Hierd's presence. "I come from Germany." Hierd started, they looked confused. "I know for a fact that you don't know what Germany is, but that does not matter at the moment. I was given the knowledge that you need help, and so I will do just that, help."

"If you may... Forgive us sir, but how?" Naturvege leaned in cautiously.

Hierd, in whisper; 'I wish for a book regarding Germany's history before the second war.' 

[request granted]

When he felt the weight hit his two palms beneath the table; he pulled them up and showed them the book. It looked like it was four hundred pages long by the thickness of it. Their faces were beyond aweshocked, books were, in that age, a rarity rarer than diamonds. And for Hierd to casually whip it out, he must have more (what they thought). 

"Open it." He leaned in with a sinister-like grin, "and read it."

Naturvege reached for the hard-bound cover, feeling the leather texture with his finger- 

"Ah-" Hierd stopped him from opening it to the first page; "first, I want somewhere to sleep. Second, I will be conducting military training inside this village and I will also be managing it's infrastructure and whatnot. Because of that, I will also be named chief, by a different name. Call me as Captain for now."

"Like the commander of a ship." Naturvege emphasized.

"'Like the commander of a ship.'" Hierd repeated, his grin widening. 

"We accept your terms, captain." Alrife made his mind-up before Naturvege. 

Hierd leaned back on his wooden chair, his right hand still stuck on the table. "Auferstehen." He brought the topic in.

"Sir?" The sudden mention confused them.

Hierd simply looked at them with his most stern face, saying nothing.

Alrife stepped forward; "we usually get farm animals during Auferstehen, sir. However, after our neighboring Ridge Village collapsed the years prior, the monsters have gotten more bolder, showing up in more groups than before. I'm afraid if not for your help, sir, that this year might... Might be our last."

It was pretty morose, the topic. But Hierd found himself intrigued. "Tommorow, I will start training your soldiers, please ready them by the vast field I had seen. All of them, please; I will showcase my weaponry, and my technology." Hierd stood up, as did Alrife.

"I'll bring you to your lodge, sir. It's just out back."

"Thank you."