It was on the third week that Xander and the team were notified of their draft. They’d been staying at Robert’s for so long that the guild now knew where to find them if they were needed, and had sent a runner to inform them that it had received an official notice from the Crown’s forces that Xander, Graffus, Gabrelle, Atrax, and Frazay were, as citizens of Dardin, to be drafted as auxiliary forces to the army and support the war effort until such a time as they were released from duty. They were to report to the recruitment office for in the city of Anlet as soon as they were informed.
At the recruitment building, the mercenaries were confronted with a line of people which wrapped around the building. Some of them had the looks of fellow mercenaries, most of which were sullen, others were proud looking young men and women who had decided that they should answer the call to war, and still others were tired looking folk who sought to support their families or climb their way out of poverty by joining the kingdom’s forces. A man dressed in a crisp military looking formal jacket stepped up to their group as they stood, looking at the line.
“I take it you’ve received a notice of enlistment?” The man asked.
The mercenaries all looked amongst each other for a moment before Frazay answered with a simple, “Yes.”
The man nodded absently, not particularly interested in them beyond ensuring that things were kept orderly. “Then you’ll want to find yourselves a spot in the line and wait for your turn to be processed. It’s quite a large batch today, so I recommend you gather your things so that you can leave tonight if you haven’t already. They’ll be sending you all off, I expect. The mercenaries amongst the group will be sent to strategic locations along the front, while the greener recruits will be sent to receive some training before they see battle.”
The five of them quickly made their way back to Robert’s now that they’d learned that their enlistment would not be a quick affair, and that there was a distinct chance that they’d be sent off to wherever the crown needed them not long after their papers were done. Gathering their things and collecting Freyja and the horses, they retraced their path to the enlistment building. The line had grown slightly, but that was to be expected. They slowly made their way to the back of the line and resigned themselves to a long day.
It took several hours for them to make it to the front of the building. There, they hitched their horses to a post out front, and made their way inside. Freyja was left with instructions to ensure that no one tried to take the horses. Inside, they waited another, shorter period of time, until there was space to begin processing them. In turn, each of them were required to state their name, verify that they were a citizen of Dardin, and show their status sheet. It took some extra time for Xander to be verified – His guild membership had technically included citizenship, and a runner was dispatched to verify his status. Once the paperwork was completed, the mercenaries, along with roughly thirty other people, drafted mercenaries and willing enlistees both, took an oath of service. It was short ceremony, and afterwards, they, along with everyone else who had enlisted that day so far, were lead to a large square nearby that was being used as a waiting area. As the rest of the day progressed, groups of enlistees trickled into the square.
Several men in armor, wearing tabards denoting them as members of the crown’s army, patrolled the various crowds. They would often dress down the new recruits, giving them impromptu lessons on how to properly salute, or the proper way to stand when addressed by a superior. The mercenaries were mostly left alone, though. It was easy to tell the difference between the men and women who were not mercs and the mercenaries by the simple fact that the mercenaries were already armed and armored. The volunteer enlistees would be provided these things during their training.
One particularly aggressive soldier, Xander was already thinking of them as drill sergeants, stopped and gave a nearby group of recruits a tongue lashing for their slouched posture. Soon, the soldier had the recruits on the ground doing various exercises, including the ever-classic pushup, to ‘correct’ them. Xander watched the show, reminiscing a little on his own basic training back on Earth. He doubted that these recruits would receive training for nearly as long as he had, though. Xander imagined that once they’d been taught how to properly hold and use their weapon and wear their armor, they’d be shipped to the front. From there, it would be sink or swim for them.
As evening began to fall, everyone in the square was rounded up into a rough formation, where they were told that they would be gathering whatever belongings they had with them and heading out of the city, where they would set up camp just outside the boundaries of town. Assignments would be given out in the morning. Large communal tents were already in place for those who did not have their own. Almost all of the mercs opted to use their own equipment, splitting into their preexisting teams and settling in for the night.
Xander, Atrax, Gabrelle, Graffus, and Frazay all sat around a fire quietly. Freyja was laying on the ground behind Xander.
“Where do you think we’ll be going?” Gabrelle finally asked, breaking the silence.
Graffus shrugged. “Besides Northward, I couldn’t tell you. We’ll find out in the morning, just like everyone else.”
“Have you ever been in a war, Graffus?” Xander asked. “I haven’t. We’ve been in fights and battles together, sure, but I’ve never participated in something so… large.”
Graffus shifted uncomfortably. “Once. A long time ago.”
He didn’t offer any more information, and Xander decided to let the topic be. If the dwarf didn’t wish to speak about it, Xander felt he had no right to probe further. The mercenaries continued their silent gathering for another hour or so, before finally retiring to their tents.
Xander was woken the next morning by the sounds of the camp beginning to rise. Stretching in his sleeping bag, he roused himself and got dressed. He practiced manifesting his armor directly onto his body instead of piece by piece and manually strapping it on; he’d realized that it might be something he could do about a week ago, and he still hadn’t quite gotten it down. His armored boot materialized in his hand instead of on his foot like he’d meant, and he sighed, sitting back down to put it on. Once he was dressed and armored, he woke Freyja up, ruffling the cat’s fur until she finally deigned to start her process of stretching and getting up.
Outside of his tent, Xander saw his teammates also getting ready. Across the camp, the same scene was replaying in most of the mercenary camps, as well as most of the communal tents. A few of the recruits who had brought their own tents were being loudly woken up by some of the soldiers in charge of training.
“Morning,” he said to his teammates, stretching again. “We find out anything yet?”
“Not yet,” Atrax replied. “I expect they’ll call us all in soon.”
Not long after Atrax had replied to Xander, a call did indeed begin echoing through the camp. Xander could hear a loud voice, yelling, “Form up! Outside the barracks tents! Mercs to my right and training bound recruits to my right!”
The soldiers that Xander could see began echoing the call, ensuring that no one was unable to hear the orders. Soon, they were all herded in that direction, where Xander and his teammates joined the crowd of mercenaries that had gathered for the call. The training bound recruits were being ordered into an actual formation, the training cadre forming them into neat rows. Xander found his feet unconsciously slipping into the position of attention at the prospect of having to stand in formations. Fortunately, no one seemed to care if the mercenaries were in any semblance of order.
A man, Xander presumed he must be some kind of officer, as his armor and tabard were more ornate than what the other soldiers he’d seen were wearing, began to address the gathered crowd.
“Today, you will receive assignments as to where you will be placed in the war against Thrask’s aggression! Whether you were drafted or willingly volunteered, know that the crown values your service and thanks you. Now, as I have you all gathered, assignments will be distributed. If you hear your name called, move to the soldier that called it and form up behind them.”
Papers were quickly distributed amongst the training cadre soldiers, and names began to ring out. The volunteer enlistees were called seemingly at random, but Xander noticed that entire teams were being called on the mercenary side. He was glad to see some confirmation that their team would not be split up.
After about half of the mercenaries had been called forward, shuffling into groups behind different soldiers, Xander caught his own name, as well as that of his teammates being called. They moved to join the group of mercenaries that had been called by the same soldier. When all the names had been called, there were ten teams of mercenaries in the crowd that Xander found himself in. Noticeably more than were in the other groups. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Once there were no more names to be called, each soldier began to address the group that had formed behind them.
The soldier standing in front of Xander and over thirty other mercenaries took a deep breath. “Alright, you all. You’ve been assigned by the crown to the command of Lord Vard,” the man said, looking down at the sheaf of papers to confirm the information. “Lord Vard and the soldiers under his command will be traveling North to the city of Ilbek, which is currently under siege by the Thraskian army. Lord Vard’s task, and therefore your task, is to break the siege and resupply the city. You are to meet with his contingent five days from now, where, if you keep a proper marching pace, he should be at the crossroads of the Northern highway and the trade route Eastward.” The man did not ask if anyone had any questions, simply walking away after having read out the orders.
Xander turned to his companions. “Guess we’re siege breakers, now. Wonder how big this army we’re supposed to link up with is.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Atrax shrugged. “If we’re supposed to break the siege and deliver supplies, I’d imagine a few thousand? Must be important to them if they’re assigning so many of us mercs to the task, too.”
“If I remember correctly, Ilbek is one of the Northernmost fortresses. Holding it is vital to maintaining the defensive line in the north,” Graffus explained to his companions.
Similar conversations where happening throughout the crowd, as various people questioned those more knowledgeable about the kingdom’s geography about Ilbek.
“Come on,” Graffus said, gesturing to his teammates. “If we’re going to make it on time to catch Lord Vard, we should get moving. I’d rather get there early than late.”
Graffus’s teammates followed his advice and filtered themselves out of the crowd. Soon, more mercenaries began to follow their same course. The volunteers, who had been separated from the mercenaries before, were led away by various soldiers, beginning their journey to their training destinations.
It only took Xander and his team three days to reach the crossroad that had been mentioned in their orders. Being mounted, they were somewhat faster than a marching soldier. With nothing else to do, they, as well as a few other mercenary groups who had kept up with them, either by mounts or skills, set up camp. Over the next two days, the rest of the teams trickled in.
Xander spent those two days ensuring that he had a good stock of grenades, both fragmentation, which were all remotely detonated with his runes, as well as soul rippers. He was high on ammunition, and his new main weapon, the runic gauss rifle, required only steel, allowing him to create essentially infinite ammunition. The loading mechanism for the contraption was a simple tube that he could dump more of the steel balls into, holding about five at a time, plus one in the chamber, levitated in place by runes. What time he wasn’t spending making grenades, he spent ensuring his scope was properly zeroed in by shooting holes through trees. He’d needed to make a few adjustments to the scope, and now he felt confident that between the additional magnification and [Weapons of War] he could make quite long ranged shots with the weapon. A few hours after the last merc team had trickled in, late in the afternoon, but still a few hours before dusk, Lord Vard’s army appeared in the distance, marching along the Eastern trade road.
The soldiers were marching at a good pace, if in poor formations - in fact, many were not in one at all - and within the hour, the army, which Xander could only tell was over a thousand, reached the crossroad. A halt was called, and the soldiers, relieved to be done with marching for the day, tiredly began setting up various tents.
“Guess we ought to report to Lord Vard,” Frazay said. “Wherever he is.”
“I expect he’ll be near the back, on a horse, with the other officers,” Graffus commented.
Asking one of the nearby soldiers where they could find Lord Varden, they were answered with a pointed finger towards the rear of the army, and “He wears white armor.”
Xander’s team was the first of the mercenary teams to deign to report to Lord Vard, perhaps not being as upset about their involvement with the crown’s military forces, due to their earlier discussions on the topic. Regardless of the reason, they were the only mercenary team in sight when the spotted Lord Vard on his warhorse.
The soldier’s description of ‘wears white armor’ has been correct but hadn’t prepared them for the sight. The man was covered head to toe in plate that had been enameled a lustrous white. Gold leaf traced graceful patterns over it, lining the edge of each piece. Xander even noticed that the man’s breastplate had a few runes on it. He could see that they were strengthening and impact dampening arrays. As they walked closer, Xander realized with some amusement that his armor was the exact opposite of Lord Vard’s. Where the lords what gleaming white, Xander’s was a dark, matte black. The lord had gold trim, Xander had silver trim. The rest of the officers had more traditional plated armor, and word embellished tabards with Dardin’s symbol, a rising sun set over a river, embroidered on them.
Lord Vard and the other officers and nobles around him noticed the mercenary team heading towards them as their heads slowly turned to watch them draw near. It felt odd being stared at like that. The lesser nobles and officers seemed to be waiting for Lord Vard to take the lead. Xander supposed that the situation might be as new to them as it was to him. Drawing close enough to speak, Atrax took it upon himself to introduce them.
“Lord Vard,” he began politely. “The mercenary team consisting of myself, Atrax, as well as Frazay, Graffus, Xander, and Gabrelle, reporting to you as ordered.”
Lord Vard remained silent for a time, looking each mercenary over critically. “Are you all they sent?” He finally asked.
“Ah, no, my Lord,” Atrax replied. Pausing to search for diplomatic phrasing, he said, “Our fellow mercenaries, of which there are ten teams, including us, are camped at the crossroads. They perhaps do not share our sense of urgency in directly reporting, but I am sure that they are liaising with your soldiers as we speak.”
Lord Vard grunted. “Hmph. Well, at least one of the teams they gave me seem like real professionals,” he said gruffly. “I’ll give you the rundown of the plan, since you actually bothered to show up. The rest of them can get it second hand from the soldiers or other officers.” He paused, shifting his seating on his horse, and resumed. “As you know, we are to break the siege on the city of Ilbek. We have only three thousand soldiers to do so with. That is all that could be spared at the moment. You might not have noticed, but we have a particularly large supply train. With our numbers being what they are, we do not expect to be able to defeat the entirety of Thrask’s forces on the field. What we can do, however, is punch through their encirclement of Ilbek, make our way to the city, and deliver ourselves as extra manpower for the city as well as our supplies, to ensure that the city can sustain itself during the siege. This way, we can ensure that the city will not fall, without having to dedicate a larger number of soldiers to the task that are needed elsewhere. Once we succeed, one of three things will happen. We will outlast the Thraskian force, and they will move on to a fight that is more advantageous to them. We will hold until sufficient forces can be mustered from Dardin to defeat the Thraskian army that is sieging the city. We somehow manage to defeat the sieging force with our own force once combined with the defenders of the city. The ideal situation is that once we resupply and reinforce the city, the sieging force will quit the field and move on, giving us a stable base of operations behind enemy lines.” Lord Vard turned his head to one of the officers behind him. “Captain Uril, I am assigning this team to you. The rest of you will have to wait until the rest of the mercs deign to show their faces.” With that, Lord Vard lightly kicked his heels against his horse, commanding it to walk forwards, and left the group of officers and mercenaries. He appeared to be heading towards a large tent that was being erected. Xander was unsure if it was the man’s personal tent or some kind of command center.
The rest of the officers dispersed, except for Uril. He cleared his throat and introduced himself. “I am captain Uril, as you no doubt heard. I am in command of a company of three hundred soldiers. Three thousand soldiers in total, and ten captains,” he explained. “You’ll be reporting directly to me for any assignments, so consider yourself outside the chain of command save for Lord Vard and myself. If anyone tries to convince you otherwise… let me know. Now, give me a run down of your skills so that I can decide how best to use you to augment my forces.”
After listening to Xander and his teammates briefly describe their skills and abilities, he nodded. He spent a couple of minutes thinking, looking off into the distance before finally making a decision. “Mmm. I would say that you would best be used by first hunting down any skill users that are making a large impact on our forces as we attempt to punch through, and then, joining the fight with the rest of the company. We aren’t the tip of the spear for this formation, but we are close. We’ll be required to hold our line for as long as we are able so that we can get the wagons through Thrask’s line. We’ll have to have the entire action completed before they can begin to encircle us. Fortunately, they won’t be able to bring the entirety of their force to bear on us. If they leave the city unwatched, it will open them to an attack on their rear by the forces that are still in Ilbek. You will be my knife, while my traditional forces will be my hammer.”
The mercenaries nodded, slowly. While they might not like the idea of having to go toe to toe with skill users that, potentially, might be the same or even higher level than them, it was a strategy that made sense. A competent area attack specialist could decimate an army if left unhindered, and considering that Dardin’s forces would be clustered tightly to break through the encirclement, it would make them a ripe target for such attacks.
“Understood, captain Uril,” Xander finally said, seeing that no one else was going to respond to the man. “Where are you and your company located? We can move our camp to a closer proximity.”
“That would be excellent,” Uril responded. “I shall show you, it will be easier that way than trying to explain where it is in this…” Uril waved his hand disgustedly at the mass of milling soldiers trying to find places to sleep, “whatever it is.” As they began following Uril, who had dismounted, and was leading his horse by the reins, the man continued speaking. “A large portion of this army are still fresh. They lack the discipline of a veteran force,” he complained, “and it shows in how they conduct themselves. I never would have seen disarray after a march like this even a year ago. I’m unsure about my fellow captains, but I intend to have my own company well ordered by the time we reach Ilbek.”
Xander nodded along with the man. He could understand his frustration. Used to more order himself when it came to military matters, he couldn’t see how anything was getting done right now with the chaos going on. “How long until we reach the front?” He asked.
“If we keep up a good pace, two weeks. After that, we will have to quickly make our way the last few days’ march to Ilbek to avoid being intercepted by any Thraskian forces before we can even engage their siege force.”
“It’s a bold plan, but an effective one,” Graffus commented. “I don’t see much else that could be done if Dardin is unwilling to leave Ilbek unsupported.”
“Indeed,” Uril replied. They continued walking in silence for another few minutes until Uril stopped. In front of them was a slightly neater cluster of tents, aligned in rows, with soldiers and lower ranked officers moving about purposefully. “I made sure to tell the few more experienced soldiers available to me to show the company how to properly set up their tents,” he explained, looking proud of himself.
“It appears to have worked,” Gabrelle said.
“Where are we setting up our camp?” Frazay asked.
“Ah, you may set up near my own tent. It’s just over here.” Uril led them further into the rows of tents, and, just past a large tent that was filled with what looked to be higher ranking soldiers going over maps and papers, indicated an empty plot of land. “My tent is just there,” he said, pointing out a tent that was only slightly larger than the average soldier’s.
The team made their way back to their original encampment and began packing it up. The mercenaries that had been loitering in their own nearby camps had dispersed amongst the army as a whole by this point. They untied the horses from stakes that they’d hammered into the ground and led them on their trip back to Uril’s company. Now that some of the hustle and bustle of the army finishing their march had passed, Xander caught many of the soldiers starting either at him, the rest of the team, and especially at Freyja. He caught several instances of conversations where one soldier was explaining to others that the crown had drafted the mercenaries and that they’d be acting as auxiliary forces to the army. The reactions seemed to range from interest and excitement all the way to being offended that the crown felt that the Dardian army needed mercenary help.
Xander and Freyja claimed a spot on the empty ground near the command tent, his teammates finding spots nearby, forming a rough ring of tents around where they would set their campfire. They idly chatted, making small talk as they prepared their food. They turned in early, expecting tomorrow would start early for them.