Conquest

The man sat upon his white horse, overlooking the city as his man ran through it, torching the buildings, cutting down civilians, and taking the small bit of wealth it had for his own ranks. The city was just a stepping stone as far as he was concerned - he watched with a smile on his face as his men took the women for their own, using them to create new children to be bred to take more towns and wealth and power. His army needed not win any battles - they needed only to destroy everything that they were placed in front of.

Night fell, but their camp was illuminated by the burning city they left in their wake. Men enjoyed their new women, they feasted on the food they had taken from the city, and they laughed at the stories some told of the few who had tried to resist them. The way that men had simply been crushed under their boots as they marched forward, the screams of the weak as their homes burned, and the blood that had been spilt into the streets. They laughed, they made merriment, and the made children. And their commander stayed atop his white horse and smiled.

Day in and day out, the men marched, and they torched the land, killed the men, and took the women. Their commander never grew tired of watching his men carry these actions out day in and day out, and the men never grew tired of the rewards they were repeatedly given upon a successful conquering. They were all strong men, selected for their muscle and their lack of concern. They were lustful, greedy, and competitive. At times they fought amongst themselves to see who was stronger, or who had conquered the most women, and their commander only smiled and watched, and rewarded the winner when he killed the other.

But the size of the army never changed. As men were killed, the commander on his horse would always find more to take their place. There were always men searching for power and fame, and they were easy to convince to join his army. They were accepted by the others before they had even finished their first burning.

The man sat on his horse as they marched, glancing back occasionally, seeing the path of flames and destruction he left behind him, and he smiled. He loved how much he was destroying. He would conquer the world, and when the world was his, he would conquer his own army. And all of the women and wealth they had gathered would belong to him and him alone, and only the powers of actual war, famine, or death could stop him.