My birds eye view of the attack gave me something of a cheat. From the start of the conflict, I could see the monster formation and determine its strategy. It consisted of a frontal attack front about twenty monsters deep and at least a hundred metres wide since it filled my head's up display from side to side. What puzzled me were the few red dots, scattered just ahead of the front. I would soon discover those were ogres leading the attack. Goblins, it seemed, preferred following their tanks, which I could understand because monsters trusted strength. The ogres chose not to fight but rather to penetrate deeper into the camp. I could hear the clamour of monster screams and groans passed below the hill we camped on. Shadows flitted between the tents taking the camp torches used for lighting and then purposefully used by the monsters to start fires in the tents. For the first time I associated ogres with the leading red dots.
Ara suddenly raised the alarm. She knew it was an ogre because it was one of the first red dots that initially led the formation. In my Airscan, Ogres stood out like large boulders in a river. Ever since she followed the dots from the start of the conflict she easily recognised which dots would be the leading ogres.
Ara’s warning slowed me down in time. I guess my anxiousness over the situation caused me to lose focus and her warning pulled me back into reality. I’d already lost half my EE on the bloody Airscan skill. For five seconds, I forced myself to refocus then ran out the tent to meet the climbing ogre in combat. Why, I decided to run out the tent instead of listening to Grenfell and hide, I'll never know? Perhaps it was all the excitement, but somewhere deep inside me I rebelled against the thought of losing the marquee tent to a pyroclastic ogre.
Firelight from a fiery torch suddenly appeared above the small hill’s horizon. When I caught sight of the ogre’s massive hand holding the torch and the leather vambrace on its arm, I intuitively knew there was no way I was going to win a one-on-one swordfight with that muscled monster. Doubts clouded my mind as to how to deal with the ogre but with no more time to run I needed a way to even the odds. I’m not sure why, perhaps it was from weeks of practicing that instinctively reached into my pocket and retrieved my metal spheres. I didn’t even look at the red-hot metal spheres in my hand as I waited for the only ogre weak spot I could imagine at short notice. And no, despite my father’s advice it wasn’t its lower tackle. The only way to get access to that weak spot was to lay in the path of the ogre until it nearly stepped on me and then fire upwards. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t feel like becoming roadkill, so I opted for the second-best option… it’s eyes. As soon as the helmeted head of an ogre appeared over the brow of the hill, I fired the red-hot spheres before it could react to my presence.
I remember seeing two glowing trails drawing red lines to the ogre’s helmet and hitting it full in the face. The ogre’s head snapped back followed by a huge roar as the ogre grasped at its eyes and rolled backwards, head over heels down the hill until it lay sprawled out on the grass below, dead still.
“What the heck?”
I didn’t realise my attack would be that effective; something of an anti-climax. I hoped that by blinding the ogre I could at least have a fighting chance with a sword, and now I would never know. Why was I even sorry about that, and did Ara just crack a joke?
The monster’s front battleline had faltered and stopped as if running out of fuel.
Green dots appeared from the west and started chasing the monsters who retreated in full flight. That had to be the weirdest battle I ever heard of. Hardly any fighting took place and the monsters already retreated, not that I complained or anything.
There was no rest for the remainder of that night as I helped put out various tent fires, clean up the camp and replace or repair tents. Fortitude shone on us in that despite their numbers, the monsters only managed to create minor damage. Other than some destroyed merchants’ tents and a few casualties there wasn’t a lot of damage. Fortunately, few monsters managed to penetrate deep into the camp, limiting the damage. By the time I returned back to the blacksmith’s marquee tent I was exhausted and flopped into my bed, only to be woken by the old man.
“Sorry, no rest for the weary. You’re going to fire up the furnace while I deal with some of the merchants. The damage the monsters caused gave us more work, there’s a heap of work orders from the merchants and we have various things that need repair.”
I moaned. I really wanted to sleep, but even if I did, the noise of Grenfell’s hammer banging on the anvil would keep me awake. Despite my exhaustion the work we received was at least varied enough to keep me awake. There was everything from making tent pegs, horseshoes, cart parts and replacing missing parts, heck there was nothing related to weapons. Blacksmithing was sometimes quite boring. There was one particular problem he wanted to resolve, and it literally related to the lack of nuts and bolts in the kingdom. The kingdom used either nails or metal bars that bent up on the end to secure things together. The problem with that was that it couldn't be easily secured. Nails would rattle loose with time, and iron bars couldn't tighten well enough. We spent a lot of time simply nailing down planks again.
Creating something seemingly as simple as a bolt required a significant amount of sophistication, especially since I lacked a lathe to create the thread. Tolerances on fine threaded bolts meant whatever method I chose to make them, it would have to be consistent, otherwise the nuts would never fit the bolts. What I needed was a die, a tool used to cut thread onto metal, and it achieved that by consisting of a tougher material than iron. Since orichalcum was tougher than iron, it was my preferred choice. However, orichalcum was expensive and I doubted there was a lot of it in circulation around the camp, especially for smithing work. I could look at that later when I returned to the Dryad.
A second shock awaited our camp when later that afternoon injured troops flooded in from the battlefield. We watched from the hill as wagon after wagon arrived at the field hospital with troops too critically injured to walk or ride horses. Soon the hospital filled to capacity, and patients overflowed into tents surrounding the hospital. Grenfell and I watched the scene unfolding below with a sombre mood. Judging by the number of injuries it didn’t fare well for the knights battle against the forest dungeon. I felt for the hospital staff whose workload quickly escalated. On one of his short breaks, Grenfell suddenly exclaimed under his breath when he watched a stretcher entering a tent.
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“Shane, keep an eye on things here, I’ve got something to attend to.”
Surprised at Grenfell’s sudden departure I watched him walk down the hill to the field hospital and disappear into one of the overflow tents. I only found out what was going on when well into the night a tired Grenfell suddenly appeared back at our marquee tent. The kitchen supplied dinner for us which I had kept warm for him by leaving it on a thick metal plate near the dying embers of the furnace. He quickly ate his meal then between mouthfuls he explained the situation he found in the tent.
“I went to see Commander Karato. I noticed him when they carried him into the infirmary tent, that’s why I left you. The story is a bit complicated, but the bottom line is we lost the battle against the monsters. The monsters ambushed the troops in a trap near the dungeon. During the withdrawal commander Karato was severely injured. An large ogre attacked him as he protected the retreating troops.”
“How’s the commander doing?”
“It cut his arm badly and he’ll probably lose his arm. If that wasn’t bad enough, the knights will be falling back towards Shimmerstal. We’ll be heading to Obon tomorrow morning first thing without the military’s protection. Since the knights have retreated now, its only time before the monsters will have full access to the Shimmerstal road. It’s not a good situation.”
We enjoyed the protection of the military presence during our journey to the military camp because the knights patrolled the road. If we returned to Obon, there would be no guarantee that we would get through without running into some monsters. Even a pack of direwolves could easily overwhelm us, and there was no point discussing what a couple of ogres might do. We planned to leave first light in the morning and needed to do a bit of hectic packing before we left, however there was something I first wanted to check as a thankyou to the commander.
“Grenfell, I would like to visit the commander before we go, can I see him?”
He nodded.
“I’m not sure if you will be able to talk to him because he has got a fever. Don’t worry, I’ll start packing up what I can here. You’ll need to make it quick though.”
I didn’t say another word. Grabbing my leather satchel, I headed to the same tent Grenfell entered earlier. On arrival, I found Commander Karato the only patient in the tent. His wounded arm lay resting to his side as a nurse attended the wound. I assumed she washed the wound on a regular basis, trying to keep it clear of sepsis. I would say there wasn’t much hope judging by the smell emanating from that wound. A jagged slash ran from the top of his upper arm and angled diagonally downwards towards his inside elbow. They only covered the wound with a light covering so that the nurses could regularly access the wound to try and keep it clean. He was conscious but looked a bit zoned out. Despite his unfortunate situation, the commander noticed me.
“Ah, young laddie. I’m awfully sorry I cannot spar tonight. Mommie says I’m suffering a slight handicap that may hold me up for a while.”
He slurred out. Despite his obvious condition he still managed to say something although his words made little sense. I now understood Grenfell’s comment before I left the marquee tent. The nurse smiled but I could see the submission on her face. Both of us knew that if the commander wanted to stay alive, he wouldn’t keep his arm by the morning. The commander slept again; his body was fighting the infection. Even slight wounds from monster weapons and claws had the unfortunate habit of festering the wound. It wasn’t poison but rather because of the blade or claw’s contaminated surface. Who knew what they did with those blades in the dungeons? Few, if any, ever returned from such places so information remained limited or more likely non-existent. I indicated to the nurse to step outside the tent, I didn’t want to disturb the commander.
“Has the commander got any chance of saving his arm?”
“All we can do is hope.”
In other words, no. I had to at least try and help him. From all the recent lessons I’d received from Ara about plant related topics, I at least knew she had some good medicine I could try and even last night I tried making a few of her combinations, although I had no idea how they would help someone or even what side effects there might be, if any.
“Seeing the situation is so desperate, I have a herbal remedy I would like to try on his wound if I may?”
She thought for a while. Since she seemed hesitant, I added,
“There would be no more harm to his arm, and you are welcome to watch me if it would put you more at ease.”
She shook her head.
“When you arrived, I realised the commander was familiar with you. I sense that he trusts you, so I have no problem for you to try and help him. Do you need my help with anything?”
I appreciated the good nurse’s common sense.
“No thanks. I’ll be okay.”
Part of being involved in the mechanical industry meant that I needed to have First Aid accreditation updated on a regular basis. It didn’t make me a paramedic, but it did give me the basics. When I sat down next to the commander’s bed, I could see his arm better. His right arm looked red and swollen obviously fighting a nasty infection. The nurse didn’t hang around for long and soon afterwards I started removing the bandages on the commander’s arm. Damaging his sword arm would be a career limiting event because wielding a weapon was critical for being a knight in battle. I imagined that he would be at best be relegated to a support function within the knights like logistics or planning. From my short interaction with commander Karato I couldn’t see him doing those roles, it would be soul destroying. After removing the bandages, the condition of the injury still managed to surprise me. The nurse had just cleaned the wound, yet a foul-smelling odour still emanated from it.
The reason I felt I could help the commander was because Ara had previously asked me to mix up certain combinations of plants, keeping them stored in separate pouches in the bag. My medicine bag, as I called it, I was able to secure from the Adventurer’s supply shop. Some plants offered healing properties and others disinfecting properties. The exceptional difference between Ara’s combinations and those from other suppliers like the Adventurer’s supply shop was that Ara’s combinations unlocked unique properties only possible with those plants and in specific quantities. Since plants properties changed for better or worse when fresh or dried, only Ara’s knowledge could help me. My attempt at making a healing herbal remedy would be like fumbling in the dark. Potions were of course far more effective, but they needed time and materials to make, and I would only get that right some distance into the future. I realised that a clever way of making money in my spare time was to make and experiment with potions on the side while travelling around. It also became an enjoyable time filler for me.
Commander Karato’s arm was at least twice it’s normal thickness. Lessening the inflammation became really important.
That put my mind at rest. But I needed to pay more attention to what I was doing.
Even if I killed each one of the existing bacteria per second, a million bacteria would take me over eleven days to destroy. By the end of eleven days, I would be further away from my target because bacteria can clone themselves in minutes. Despite my attempt to help, before the eleven days were over the commander would be long dead from infection.
It sounded like a good idea. She continued,
I nodded, that would be so cool.”
“Wait..argh, my eyes!”
How did I manage to forget about the upgrade’s side effects?