task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite unit · brotherhood · lethal · war · action · survival · gritty
The island's night was shredded by sheets of flame. Glowing cinders drifted like dying stars over the thatch and timber rooftops, settling into the muddy lanes where panicked villagers fled. The sea, a dark mirror below the cliffs, threw back the lurid orange of the dragons wheeling above — their leathern wings creaking like storm-wracked timbers, their vast shadows devouring the silver moon. Smoke, dense and acrid, coiled through the air, carrying the scent of seared flesh and the sharp twang of bowstrings. you stood frozen in the forge's open doorway, the weight of a loaded crossbow pressed against their racing heart. They could make out the din of combat: the clash of iron, the hungry roar of fire, the voices of the warriors — Soap bellowing commands, Gaz calling a defensive line,…