(Lysander.)
Culture could be a cancer. Only in groups did humans develop the ability to truly hate without thought, to absolve themselves of guilt through numbers.
The sins of the many created the greatest evils of the world: war, terror... slavery.
I looked to the sky; the darkened clouds obscured the light of the moon. The night's breeze carried my long, black hair in the warm but cool wind.
"The archers should be in place by now, sir," Lyric said from beside me; her horns, like my own, crested up from her forehead to frame the well maintained looks of a caliban.
My silvered eyes did not glow gold now as they usually did. They instead measured in secret the small camp at the bottom of the steep, desert bluff beneath us.
I raised my hand to signal the many cavalrymen behind the two of us.
Lyric raised a horn to her lips.
My arm fell in command.
The war horn resounded throughout the quiet night and silenced the many chirping insects and prowling creatures of the dunes.
My men-at-arms followed behind me as we began our charge and rounded the raised terrain. My men were not knights; most nobles would not serve a man of common birth, but they were as good in a fight as any other.
The mercenaries in the camp below had been wise enough to post sentries, despite likely not expecting an attack so far into the unclaimed wastes.
Arrows quickly filled the hearts and necks of those men awake enough to have weapons in their hands.
I could hear Lyric's bowstring working at an incredible speed, even on horseback, from slightly beside me.
"Lyric, before we enter the camp!" I gave the skilled woman my order as we thundered forward in a cloud of rising dust.
My second's bowstring grew quiet. Instead, the warhorn she carried resounded again.
Fire filled the sky. The hail of flaming arrows pierced into the tents of the camp.
My dedicated archers were well out of range and sight of any retaliation, leaving them free to rain down as much destruction as they could for the limited window of time that they had before our horses slammed into the heart of the camp.
In the dry, open air of the desert night, the blaze the arrows created would break out quickly and would provide a much needed illumination for those among my group who did not possess the darkvision that I and Lyric did.
Another volley of arrows came. Then another. It was enough to keep the majority of the waking defenders from organizing a defense.
No more arrows came after the last two-dozen landed. We were now entering the camp proper.
My hammer caught the head of a confused looking brigand as we did so. I felt his neck all but crack against the unfaltering forward momentum granted by my mount.
Fire was already catching among the canvas shelters and the inferno only grew greater as my men and women tossed the torches they carried onto the tops of the many tents that we passed as we cut a swathe into the temporary settlement..
As had been planned, first and second platoon broke off, under the guidance of their sergeants to clear the wings of the encampment. Whereas myself and Lyric led third platoon into the heart of the criminals' makeshift home.
Any man or woman that we came upon was cut down, one by one, until finally we entered the center of the tents.
A roar shook our horses into a fear and caused us to halt our charge as its source became clear:
Two men were unlatching a massive, cart-bound cage. Within the bars, I could see a very angry and monstrous mass of fleshy muscle.
"Ogre!" Lyric authoritatively alerted our twenty accompanying men at the top of her lungs.
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As she spoke, the creature lunged forward and smacked the unlocked cage, that had held it, wide open. The man who had been behind the door was sent flying and, I suspected, killed instantly from the force that the massive humanoid had put into its lashing out.
I raised my warhammer over my right shoulder.
"Sweep the center and cut off survivors!" I ordered third platoon and then gave the command for my lieutenant to join me in combating the beast that I knew our men could not. "Lyric!"
"Sir!" she shouted back at me to confirm that she would be covering my charge.
I didn't bother with the various brigands that stood in my path. Each of them fell, one of Lyric's arrows killing them on contact and sticking from one weak point or another, just before I could come within range of them.
My attention remained entirely on the beast that was now charging straight for me. Was it trained to attack those it didn't recognize?
I'd heard reports that the raiders who were enslaving and selling off innocents in this region had managed to garner the use of such a beast, but I'd been hesitant to believe it. Ogres were not known for their... trainability.
Luckily, the thing had no weapons. As it entered my own armament's range, I was just outside of the monster's arms' reach.
But only just. I swung my hammer down with a mighty force and felt it thud against the iron-like kneecap of the creature.
[You dealt 10 Bludgeoning damage to the Ogre.]
A resounding strike as true as any other, but it was not nearly enough to put the thing out of the fight. The creature absorbed the strike and roared in rage.
Just as soon as my weapon contacted with the bone, I ducked forward under the sweeping arm that rushed out in an effort to rip my horned head from my neck.
My horse circled around the beast and allowed me to catch it again on its opposite shoulder with my hammer's flat head.
[You dealt 8 Bludgeoning damage to the Ogre.]
The creature spun backwards. It was quicker than it looked; I'd known that, but all I could do to block its angry fist was to slam my weapon's shaft into its hand as a stop-gap measure.
The ogre, of course, got the better end of the exchange.
I felt my legs leave the saddle of my warhorse as my hammer was also ripped from my grasp. I hit the ground the right way up, but it wasn't a pretty roll that came after I did.
[You received 11 Bludgeoning damage from Ogre.]
The ankles above my hooves burned as I came back onto them.
[You received 1 damage from your fall.]
The ogre came in fast once again. My plate mail limited my capability to dodge its fast and powerful movements. Thankfully, the half-giant wasn't all that graceful.
The monster's arm came in at me; I dove underneath it.
As I flew towards the ogre, for a half-moment, I thought I'd miscalculated and that the monster's arm would contact with my unprotected face.
My fears weren't realized, however, as the creature suddenly flinched upwards and stumbled off-target with an angry moan. This allowed me to successfully clear the arc of its strike.
As I dodged beneath the monster's arm, my hand wrapped around the masterwork steel of my warhammer, pulling it from where it had fallen, as I once more rolled to my feet.
It was then that I saw the source of my enemy's faltering from before: three arrows stuck out of its shoulder joint.
It seemed I owed Lyric another life. That was two in her favor; funny, I was sure I'd been ahead in the count not even a month ago. Oh well, it was how these things went; better she be the safer one, anyway.
I shifted my weight forward and wrapped both hands around my warhammer's shaft as the ogre thundered to me.
With a mighty bellow from my own mouth that almost matched that of the creature's, my eyes and hammer flashed with a luminous gold.
My weapon slammed into the mighty chest of the ogre, dead on, as I dropped into its guard.
[Divine Smite] cracked off like a ear-rocking, smashing of thunder as it resounded through the flesh and bone of the beast.
[You've scored a critical hit on Ogre.]
[You've dealt 20 Bludgeoning damage to Ogre.]
[You've dealt 32 Radiant damage to Ogre.]
The massive mountain of muscle, despite all its strength, shot back under the force of my divinely infused onslaught.
My lunge carried me forward as the beast was swept off of its feet to crash heavily into the ground.
My breaths were deep and measured, though somewhat tired, as I followed through with my strike and then recovered my footing.
I turned to the wide-eyed, now twitching, beast.
The skin of its pectorals was burnt through; the white-yellow bone of its sternum was visible at the epicenter of where my strike had landed. What flesh remained on the fringes of its wound was blackened to a charred crisp.
The World Spirit notified me of my victory as the last dying spasms of the ogre's no doubt internally crushed heart beat to an end.
[You have slain the Ogre.]
[Check your Character Sheet to assess your advancement.]
I took the moment to scan the battlefield. Stragglers were being slaughtered now. These brigands would never conduct another raid on innocent folk.
"Got something, sir," the sergeant from first platoon approached me on horseback.
"Sergeant? Have you secured your sector?" I asked.
"Aye, sir. The men have it," he replied and offered me what looked like a ledger of some kind; blood stained its simple, leather cover. "We found this in the command tent."
I took the book and opened it as Lyric came to stand beside me.
I scanned through the contents, which led me to flip to the back of what appeared to mostly be a journal of atrocities too long-ago-committed for me to do anything about.
The last entry, however, appeared to be a documentation of payment for the final group of people this warband had sold into slavery.
"Finish off the survivors and confiscate their gold and valuables," I told Lyric as I reconfirmed my findings in the text. "I know where the victims of Ahibbain have been taken. We ride on the morning's sun."
I looked up to the platoon sergeant.
"And someone go get my horse," I ordered, not knowing where the beast had run off to.