Alton’s progress down the slope from the mouth of the cave was slow. The healing potion repaired most of the damage to his body at a surface level. It did nothing for his fatigue or emotional state. He couldn’t find Forsett’s body in the cave, so he was dead out here in the forest or he ran. It was common for soldiers to flee from the mindless in their first fight. No amount of training prepared you for that special flavor of madness. Alton hoped the kid was alright. He didn’t hold it against him. Not like one frantic private would have made a difference.

The valley around him was shrouded in darkness. He could see light far off in the distance from the Edorian encampment near the south end of the valley and, likewise, from the north end, the Agorran fortress of Kitsu. Alton activated his mana sight and worked his way down to where he thought they had left their packs before advancing on the cave. Saying a quick prayer of thanks when he found them, he picked his up and strapped it on before continuing. A soldier without his pack on his own was a pitiful sight, after all. He debated drinking a mana potion but his reservoir felt raw and scraped. He doubted he could handle the influx right now.

By the time he made it down the slope to the dense forest that edged the valley, Alton’s exhaustion was overwhelming. He thumbed the communicator in his pocket and wondered if it was worth sending another signal. He doubted the stone had enough mana to serve as a beacon, and he wasn’t able to recharge it. His knowledge of glyphs and runes was poor by mage standards. If he tried to circulate his mana through the stone from the wrong entrance point, he would just set off a minor explosion as the runes overloaded and risk losing his fingers.

Mana flashed in the distance and saved him from that distance. The mana was coming from the direction of the Edorian camp. Knowing he was in no shape for a fight, he make a quick decision to hide and wait. A thick tree trunk off to his right offered some cover, so Alton slipped over next to it and dropped his pack. He pulled out his sword and settled down on his haunches to make his shadow as small as possible. He lowered the amount of mana powering his manasight to the absolute minimum to not give himself away.

When the lights were about fifty feet away, he could recognize the inlaid mana design of the strike team Fox. Each of the strike teams had armor inlaid with mana using special runes. The specific designs were unique to each team and helped with identification in poor visibility. Alton pursed his lips and gave two shrill whistles. The soldiers stopped moving at once and he could imagine they were spreading out into a combat formation as he would if he still had his….

Two shrill whistles responded to him before a brief pause and three more. Three whistles indicated either danger or sought confirmation of its existence. Alton whistled once sharply, showing no danger. Alton stood slowly and held his arms out to his sides while walking towards the brightest source of mana and used his last wisp of mana to illuminate the wolf head on his armor. He made it about halfway before a man stepped out of the shadows and spoke in a deep, gravelly voice.

“Alton? Is that you?” The Captain of Fox team, Davih asked.

“It’s me. Good to see you Davih. I…” Alton trailed off. They were his words, but it felt like someone else speaking them. His emotions threatened to overwhelm him again at that moment.

“Where’s the rest of your team? Are they injured?” Davih asked while making rapid hand motions, commanding his team to spread out through the area.

“They…They…There’s…In the cave, there was a cave, mindless, so many and a powerful sapient. We, they…” Alton choked out in a rush, unable to contain himself any longer at the look of pity that crossed Davih’s face.

“By the Mad God. Oh, my friend,” Davih asked and threw an arm around Alton’s shoulder to keep the man from collapsing. He ordered one private to bring a healing potion. Alton drank the bitter liquid gratefully, knowing there would be blow back from three potions in such a short time.

“I got the tags. We can retrieve the bodies in the light. No point in risking your team for the dead.” Alton spoke mechanically to his long-time friend. “All except one. I couldn’t find his body. New private, probably ran. Forsett.”

“Skaggs and Milsen rearguard. We are moving back to camp. Fox team dagger formation, move out!” Davih ordered, and his team snapped into action.

Alton let Davih lead him back to the camp, his mind in turmoil replaying the events of the day over and over again. He had lost many men in his career, hell everyone in the army had lost. Never had he lost his entire team on one mission like this. It felt like the world was crumbling away and Alton couldn’t find a handhold. He could hear Davih saying one of the Mad Gods’ many prayers beside him, one for the dead to find peace in the afterlife.

---

It would take half an hour of walking to reach the third army's base camp so Davih filled Alton in on the events of the day. The advance units had skirmished with the Edorians throughout the afternoon without either side doing much damage. Fox team had been scouting deep in the valley looking for Edorian forward camps for the past week when they had received a message from their communicator stating that Wolf team was in trouble and required rescue. They swiftly turned and returned toward base camp and overshot Alton’s location. Davih was backtracking to find the cave from Syca’s last reported location when Alton saw them.

“We estimate Edoria has established five or six camps between us and the mouth of the valley. Colonel Riske thinks they have between twenty and thirty thousand troops still in the valley despite the battle of Kitsu being so lopsided. I don’t know how they produce so many soldiers, even for a larger country its absurd they can fight us in all three valleys at once!” Davih said in an exasperated voice.

“Thirty thousand…” Alton repeated in a soft voice. “How many do we have now?”

“Current rosters are around ten thousand regular unit soldiers. Another two thousand between specialist units and support.” Davih answered in a low voice. His men were aware of the answer, but officers discussing the enemy's superior numbers would harm morale.

The realization that they were fighting a war down three men to one occupied Alton's thoughts until they reached the outer sentries of the camp. Once they identified themselves, Davih dispersed his team for the night and walked with Alton toward the command tent. Colonel Riske commanded the third army base camp in the field while General Tavi commanded from Kitsu fortress. The command tent was near the rear of the camp in a more heavily secured area. It was brightly lit by mana lanterns permanently affixed to poles that stood around ten feet tall and spaced out regularly to prevent intruders from hiding in any shadows. Alton nodded in recognition at the guard.

“Captain Davih, Captain Alton.” The guard nodded grimly and pulled back the tent flaps leading inside. “They’re expecting you.”

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Alton rarely visited the command tent. He avoided the politics of the army command structure as much as he could. The tent felt cavernous. Room for fifty or more people to comfortably meet. A fireplace softly cackled on the far side, keeping the tent at a pleasant temperature. Various members of the command staff were sitting or standing at scattered tables throughout. Maps adorned many of the tables and walls, including a massive rendition of all of Agorra. He hadn’t expected it to be well attended at this time of the night, but was surprised to see a full house. Colonel Riske, Major Fulham, Tark, Corbin and the rest of the army command structure. That familiar sense of dread crept up Alton’s spine again as he thought over the oddity of a full command tent at this hour.

Corbin was facing the entrance to the tent when they walked in and started over. “Alton! What happened? Report.” He added the order almost as an afterthought. Corbin was as non-formal an officer as you would find. He cared far more for his men than for protocol or appearances. They had the attention of everyone now. Alton studied the faces of the mean and women facing him, stress and fatigue apparent on all.

“Sir..” Alton began with a crisp salute but stumbled over what to say. He felt Davih’s hand on his shoulder at his side and saw Corbin’s face drop. The tragedy of the day was likely written all over Alton’s face. Alton sucked in a deep breath and tried again when Corbin interrupted.

“Colonel, might I suggest all unnecessary personnel take a fifteen?” Corbin said as he studied Alton’s face.

“Stripes only, all others dismissed for the night. We reconvene at first light. Davih, you stay,” Colonel Riske snapped out, trusting his Major. Stripes only was a quick way to clear the room as only lieutenants and above wore stripes on their uniform. Corbin waited for everyone to pack up and clear the room before guiding Alton to one of the chairs surrounding a large table that displayed a map of Lucia Valley.

“Alton sit. What happened out there?” Corbin asked in a softer voice, coming to stand near the two captains.

Alton took the offered seat and gathered himself before speaking. “Sir. Wolf team was assigned to scout the western edge of the valley and inspect all caves and tunnels for enemy activity. We cleared eight caves and only found evidence of recent habitation but no Edorians. As the sun began to set, we approached one cave that was larger than the others. I initiated silent protocol, and we advanced in standard formation. The mouth of the cave was clear, so we continued down a man-made tunnel that opened into a central chamber. There were three branch tunnels. I split my teams into four and sent two each to scout the tunnels while holding myself and one other in reserve.” He took a long sip from a flask Davih offered at his side.

“The first two teams returned without incident. We advanced down the remaining tunnel in search of Corporal Carlianne and private Lithil, who had yet to return. Upon reaching the halfway point of the tunnel we made contact with Carli…Carlianne, she sounded a retreat and we fell back to the central chamber. She had encountered a large group of mindless being led by a Sapient. We established a shield wall covering the tunnel with cover fire from archers as we engaged the mindless. Our defensive position held for the first dozen of the fiends before the sapient launched a large mana blast directly at Sergeant Rhet.” Another sip of bitter whiskey.

The shield wall was compromised, so I filled the gap and we continued to fight until Edorians ambushed us from a secret tunnel hidden behind a false wall. Our shield wall collapsed, and it became a bloodbath. The Sapient continued to attack with powerful mana blasts while dozens more mindless poured out of the tunnel. The numbers overwhelmed my team, and they fell one by one until…I don’t remember what happened next. My memories become a blur and then nothing more until I woke up.” More bitter whiskey splashed down his throat.

“When I awoke, I was able to heal with potions over an unknown amount of time. I confirmed my team had all perished except for Private Forsett. I was unable to locate a body for him. It was his first mission with Wolf team. I signaled back with a communicator and began moving back to camp before Fox team found me in the forest.” Alton finished his report and leaned back in the chair. Davih handed him another flask filled with the rough whiskey the Fox team sergeant preferred. Alton gave him a grateful look and took a last, long drink before handing it back.

“Damn it all. Damn those Edorian using Sapients to fight. Captain, how many mindless were in the cave?” Colonel Riske asked.

“I did not count, sir,” Alton answered.

“Guess Captain.” Riske replied.

“Yes sir. By my guess there were between eighty and one hundred mindless in the cave with the one Sapient. No more than eight of the Edorian heavies, well equipped.’ Alton replied and hung his head. “Too many, sir. I…I failed my team, sir. I accept full responsibility for the loss.”

“By the Mad God…One hundred?” Major Tark asked. “What tier was the Sapient?”

“I estimate a tier seven or higher. The ambient mana trembled when it fired its blasts.” Alton responded.

“Failed? Alton, you are one of the most decorated captains in the entire Agorran army. Hundreds, maybe thousands of soldiers owe their lives to you and Wolf team, myself included. I will gag you myself if I hear you utter such stupidity again.” Corbin replied harshly, looking Alton directly in the eyes. “Ten to one odds against mindless and a powerful Sapient. It’s a miracle you survived at all. In a damned cave ambush, no less.” He finished, more muttering to himself.

“Sir. I noticed you said Sapients in the plural.” Davih left the question unasked.

“I did indeed, captain. Tark.” Riske replied.

“Wolf team wasn’t the only contact with the mindless today. Three advance skirmish units reported fighting mindless while clearing the area south of the next camp. No Sapients were present for these fights, but the mindless were…fresh.” Tark filled them in.

Davih and Alton grunted in unison at the news. Dread crept up Alton’s spine as he digested that piece of information. Fighting fellow humans was one thing, an army using mindless and Sapients? The losses would be staggering among the common soldiers. Alton had only encountered three Sapients before the one in the cave. None so powerful and none with such a large horde of mindless.

The tent was silent except for the cracking and popping of the fire. A soft wind blew the tent flaps around. The reports unquestionably justified the activity in the command tent so late. Grim news for the future of the third army and the Lucia Valley. Many men crumbled at first contact with the fiends, bolstering their confidence would be a tall challenge indeed.

“Sir. Permission to dismiss?” Alton asked to break the silence.

“Granted. Dismissed. Goodnight captain.” Colonel Riske returned his salute without getting up and dismissed the two captains.

The walk back to the scout quarters was short, the camp laid out in the orderly fashion the army prided itself on. When he reached his tent, he found it surrounded by members from every strike team, standing guard from all directions. The sight sent a tremor through his tired heart and tears threatened the corners of his eyes. This was an old tradition, maybe one of the armies oldest, from when the Agorrans still lived under the mountain. Ghouls and fiends of all types were drawn to the scent of death. These strikers would serve as his honor guard until the sun rose again as a show of solidarity and strength.

Alton nodded to the men and made his way inside the smaller but still spacious feeling tent. A portable writing desk occupied one side with Alton’s preferred style of camp chair behind it. His cot lay against the other wall, his personal storage chest sitting at the foot. He hung his treasured sword, Fang, on a hanger on the wall and removed his armor and uniform. Washing his face in a small basin of clean water on his desk, he laid down and fell asleep before he even got under the blanket.

———

Fox team prayer of the Mad God

Oh Mad God, in your wild embrace,

Grant us strength in this untamed space.

Under the moon’s glow, where we stride,

Grant us wisdom, your instincts guide.

In chaos’ wake, danger breeds,

Grant us courage, for this we need.

Amidst the howls that echo and prod,

Grant us resilience, Oh Mad God.

In shadows deep, where mysteries lie,

Grant us clarity, keep us keen and spry.

As soldiers united, in your name we nod,

Grant us protection, Oh Mad God.

Through trials fierce, our spirits stand tall,

Grant us your guidance when shadows fall.

In this untamed land where your path we trod,

Grant us your strength, Oh Mad God.