Knight Captain Shaw barked orders at his men like a rabid dog. His voice was hoarse and edged with panic as exhaustion gnawed at his already frayed mind. His body became heavy, and his thoughts became a haze of fatigue, but he continued to push his men and himself relentlessly throughout the night.
"Pick up the damned pace!" he roared, his spittle flying. “I’ll flog any ye fucks that think to dally!”
That foul Dark Elf had said they'd have an entire day to rest, but Shaw wasn’t going to trust the word of some knife-eared prick that gobbled down a bigwig Noble’s dick as far as he could the devious bastard. However, his men were weary and weren’t keen on complying. Shaw could understand the sentiment, but they didn’t know what he knew. They haven’t experienced the backstabbing nature and the insidious double-speak that came with upper society.
He hand to make them comply through any means necessary, even if it meant taking a head or two.
Shaw's eyes darted nervously between the men scurrying around and the eastern night sky, searching for any sign of that damned dragon. The sudden appearance and subsequent disappearance had left him unnerved. Usually, something that big and that old was accompanied by entire cities being put to the torch just to make a point, and the fact that Shaw’s Lord was executed and labeled as a traitor didn’t bode well. The feathered bitch wasn’t fucking around, and she was out for blood.
"But Capt'n Shaw, the Dark Elf, said we had an entire day to rest," a young, newly anointed knight ventured. His voice was barely above a whisper, heavy with the unspoken fear they all felt.
"Are ye an imbecile, lad!?" Shaw snapped, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt and yanking him closer. "Do ye trust a snake with yer neck!?" He jabbed a calloused finger at the knight's chest, spraying him with spittle. "That dark-skinned bastard will sell us out the moment it suits him! We march NOW, or that piece of shite will label us as traitors as well and have that damned monster breathing fire upon us before dawn!”
Shaw released the young knight with a final shove, sending him stumbling backward. Paranoia flickered in the Knight Captain’s eyes as his hand twitched toward the hilt of his sword, itching for the comfort of solid steel in a world gone mad. Every rustle of leaves, every distant animal cry, sent shivers down his spine, and his gaze darted back to the horizon with a desperate intensity.
"MOVE!" he bellowed, his voice cracking with strain. "We cannot afford to linger here another moment! Get those wagons loaded and those supplies packed! We must be gone before dawn breaks!"
The men and women of the camp scrambled to obey, and as Shaw watched them, his jaw set, his body thrumming with restless energy. This was no longer simply a means to collect tribute and supply the war effort – it was a desperate flight for survival.
He cast a glance over his shoulder, half-expecting that Dark Elf and his shadows to be watching them with their dark eyes gleaming with cold amusement. To Shaw’s relief, the bastard and his minions were nowhere to be seen. But after seeing just how long it was taking for their departure to take shape, an uneasy feeling formed in the pit of his stomach.
Wagons were being overloaded with barrels of grain, crates of hardy fruits and vegetables, and cages of squawking chickens. Larger, bulkier beasts like the lean, razor-fanged worgs used as war mounts were being prepped by riders, and the plump, docile, shaggy horned beasts that were bred for burden – were not even ready. The first light of the morning was coming soon, and they were nowhere near ready for departure.
"By the Emperor's balls..." Shaw swore under his breath. At this rate, they'd be lucky to move more than a kilometer before the afternoon. Fury surged through him like a wildfire. This was no army, no fighting unit – it was a disorganized mob.
With a snarl, he stomped towards a group of soldiers struggling to hoist a massive crate of chickens, clucking away, onto the back of a groaning wagon. "Leave it!" The Knight Captain barked, his voice a whipcrack across the hushed camp. "Leave all of it! Gods damn it all!"
The soldiers stopped, their eyes wide with shock. "B-But Captain," one stammered, "The Count–."
"The Counts DEAD ya fool!!" Shaw roared, kicking the crate. It slid with a thud, spilling its precious contents across the dirt. "We're leaving this wrong shit behind if we want to see another sunrise!"
And just as those words left the good Knight Captain’s mouth, dawn's first rays painted the eastern horizon, causing his face to fall. They were nowhere near ready. Yet, even as panic began to gnaw at him, a screeching cry pierced the air as a chorus of shrieks echoed from the skies.
Shaw spun around, his heart pounding in horror, thinking it was a dragon, but instead, a flock of wyverns graced his vision. Dozens upon dozens of the smaller Dragon-like beings soared across the skies, their leathery wings blotting out the rising sun. It was a sight both awe-inspiring and terrifying. It was a reminder of the monstrous power the Count held as a breeder.
A surge of relief crashed over Shaw. The messages had reached Count’s Wyvernic nesting grounds, and the message he'd sent just after that damned dark elf played his bloody theatrical games made it. One Wyvern and its rider and a woman donning a dark gambeson reinforced by chain mail assessed the situation below before descending for a landing.
"Finally!" He breathed, a flicker of hope rekindling in his chest as he walked towards the woman and saw she had steel hair with the weathered face of a seasoned rider.
Grabbing her blade staff, the woman dismounted and casted a quick protection spell as her Wyvern snarled and snapped at a few workers who had gotten to close. "Captain Shaw, I take it?" she said warily, peering around the camp to spot any sign of deception. "I'm Commander Eira, of the Barbed Talon. We received the Lord Harmswid’s message… What in all the Abyss is going on?"
Shaw swallowed, trying to keep the desperation from seeping into his tone. "A change of plans, Commander. The Duchess," he lowered his voice, "has decided to… consolidate our Lord’s forces…"
Eira frowned, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the camp before pulling off her riding cap, exposing her pointed ears, and eyed Shaw in disbelief. “And our Lord… agreed? To this?” She replied incredulously, her hand tightening around her staff.
Shaw hesitated, a thousand half-truths and evasions flashing through his mind. The reality they just experienced was so convoluted, so insane, that it would likely sound like the ramblings of a lunatic. Yet, lying to one like Commander Eira's gaze, with an entire wing of Wyverns, seemed an even worse idea than telling the truth.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "No, Commander," he admitted, his voice surprisingly steady. "The Count is... dead. Executed. By the Duchess' hand."
"Executed!? Over what!?" Eira recoiled in surprise as the grip on her blade staff loosened ever so slightly.
"Treason," Shaw said, the word heavy on his tongue. "That dark elf, Tharivol, accused Lord Harmswid of defiance in the Duchess and took his head…."
A storm brewed in Elira’s silver eyes as her expression darkened. Her wyvern, sensing the shift in her mood, let out a low, menacing growl, its eyes flickering with a fire mirroring its rider's anger. The air around them seemed to chill, and the morning's light did little to dispel the growing tension.
"Treason?" she echoed, her voice sharp as the blade of her staff. "And you let this happen? You didn't think to stop them?"
Shaw flinched under her gaze, the weight of his decisions—and their consequences—bearing down on him. "We couldn't," he protested, his voice strained. "They had a dragon! An elder, or perhaps even an ancient one! It was unlike anything I ever did see! We wouldn't even been able to make the monster sneeze, let alone stop ‘em!!"
The fire in Eira’s Wyvern’s mouth started to billow with a raise of her hand as her frustration reached a boiling point. "So, you chose to let the murderer of our Lord walk away unscathed and seize his Wyverns under false pretenses!?" Her tone was icy, and each word stabbed at the Knight Captain like a dagger.
As the wyvern crept closer with its jaw parting slightly letting Shaw see the vortex of flame building within its maw, the knight captain backed away with fear in his eyes. “W-What could I have done against such a monster!?” He pleaded with a voice cracking with strain. “Even with yer entire wing, we all woulda been done in! We gone do nothin’ but annoy it!”
Eira sneered dismissively, flicking her hand in a quick gesture that caused her Wyvern to calm down. "Bah!" she exclaimed in frustration. She hated it, but she knew this coward had a point. Fighting even a senior dragon, let alone a young, teenage dragon, would have been suicide for this lot.
With the Wyvern glaring menacingly at the Knight Captain, Eira's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the ragtag group of soldiers and mages. Her mind started to race through scenarios, each one ending in disaster if they were to face such a beast head-on. "Feel grateful that I show you mercy, plebian," she finally said, her voice laced with disdain before turning around and rubbing the snout of her Wyvern.
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“It’s okay, precious… I’ll feed you something more delicious than a dickless coward…” Eira cooed and soothed her bestial companion and scratched under its chin. “I don’t even know what Count Harmswid was thinking when giving a lowly knave like him hereditary peerage.”
The knight captain gritted his teeth at the insult as Eira let out a derisive sigh. Without another word, the wing commander turned and mounted her Wyvern before looking down at her so-called counterpart with a contemptuous look in her eyes. Shaw, despite his anger and frustration, couldn't meet her gaze, feeling the sting of her shaming.
With a harrumph that echoed throughout camp, Eira squeezed her thighs against the wyvern's flanks. The language of pressure was all the creature needed, recognizing its rider's keen desire to take flight. In response, the beast’s mighty wings beat the air, and a whirlwind of power kicked up dust and debris. The force of the takeoff was a visceral thrill, propelling Eira and her mount skyward, leaving awestruck faces below.
As they ascended, the wyvern flock fell into formation behind their leader forming a disciplined wedge, cleaving through the air. They flew eastward, bound for Aldenshore, the rising sun painting long shadows across the land.
Looking around him, The knight captain worse an expression that told of humiliation. The man clenched his fist as his eyes darted across each face, accusing them of also mocking him before violently swinging his arm to the side and barking orders. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YE ALL LOOKIN’ AT!? GET BACK TO WORK!!” In his anger, the knight captain’s hand went to his sword.
“WE’RE LEAVIN’ IN AN HOUR!” With a final bellow, Shaw stormed back towards his tent, obscenities trailing behind him. His men, startled into action, scurried about, the camp abuzz with renewed purpose.
Meanwhile, still hidden in the foliage with their eyes trained on the chaotic scene, Coleman and his ODA team exchanged glances.
"That's a lotta lizards," Bennett whispered with awe evident in his voice.
"Yaaaa," Lister drawled, "All headed east, following that big-ass bitch."
Coleman's brows furrowed, a contemplative hum escaping his lips. "I think this camp is getting ready to move too."
"Whatcha think they're running from?" Bennett asked, turning to Coleman and lifting his eyebrow. “Us?”
Offering a simple shrug in reply, Coleman pressed his face back into his specialized surveillance equipment. "Who knows? Maybe they got spooked by the rangers when they raided." He paused, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Regardless, we're gonna be hitting this place once they piss off."
Elijah watched the retreating wyverns, his gaze focused on the lead rider. "That shiny one riding on the flyer… she's a problem," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of menace. "Got the feel of someone actually competent."
Coleman nodded slowly, his own gaze fixed on the departing figures. "This the main reason why I want to wait till their long gone. They’re already unloading livestock and what I think is vegetables.” He looked over to Elijah as he spoke. “We can slip in, grab what we need, and bug out before anyone knows we’re there.”
“Ehhh…. I’d still like to snatch one of them up,” Elijah replied, rubbing the back of his neck and wearing a complicated expression. “There’s a mass exodus heading east, and any information we can get our hands on would be worth its weight in gold." He finished before ripping a piece of jerky in half and sharing it with his patron, who was happily munching away on his shoulder.
A deep breath of air left Coleman’s mouth as he sat back and thought for a moment. “I don’t know… There’s a lot of the bastards in there.” His gaze turned to Kwon, the team’s sergeant, in the hopes that he might have some kind of tactical insight. “Any ideas?”
Folding his arms and looking up at the sky, Kwon let out a contemplative groan and crossed his arms. “Well… I have a few ideas…" he drawled. "Why don't we turn this into a three-pronged attack? We've got those Poles further up the road to the east.” Kwon’s head gestured towards one of two dirt roads leading into the place.“ and the Aussies are somewhat near us, right?"
"We could coordinate an ambush," Kwon continued. "The Poles brought heavier gear with ‘em and could cause some serious ruckus in the middle of that convoy.” He said, standing up and grabbing a stick.
Kwon then started drawing a line in the dirt to represent the convey and then drew an arrow interdiction its midsection. “They can Get 'em good and riled up, draw the majority attention away from us while we and the Aussies hit the rear, nabbing anything and anyone worth taking."
Coleman stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The Commandos would buy us time... and if we just focus on just snatching shit, the rest of the convoy wouldn’t even realize the tail was getting shwacked." He added, nodding thoughtfully. "I like it."
"Ya, not bad," Elijah joined in with a wolfish grin, "It's the kind of chaos that just... feels right, y'know?"
“Didn’t we bring mortars? We could just start dropping shit on them while the Poles rough them up.” Bennett chimed in.
A thought hum left Coleman’s voice as he wore a face that said he was deliberating on parting with something precious. "Ya, however..." he started with a cautious note in his voice, "We don't exactly have that many rounds, so we should only use those them for a special occasion."
Elijah cocked his head, munching on his bit of jerky. "Sure, but... isn’t this pretty much a special occasion? If we're gonna use 'em, this is the scenario for it."
Kwon nodded in agreement. "The two goons got a point. Dropping a few surprises in the middle of their convoy while the Poles stir up trouble would pretty much ensure our success.” He added while kicking his makeshift battle plan to break it up. “It’s apparent they don’t know how to deal with indirect fire yet, so we should take advantage of it while we can."
Coleman sighed dreadfully as he hung his head and capitulated to his men. The idea of raining a bit of death and destruction definitely held an undeniable appeal, especially with the fact that it would significantly reduce the chance of casualties. He needed to stop being a miser and use what they had to its fullest extent. "Alright, we’ll use the mortars,” he declared, standing up, “We’ll zero for a predesignated spot where the Commandos will engage them, drop a shit load of mortars, and scare the hell outta 'em.”
“However…” The team leader murmured as he still felt like there were some glaring flaws in the plan. “These shitheads still use magic to augment their physical abilities, so it's still gonna get dicey… Any idea on how to subdue one of them?” Coleman asked, looking around.
The team fell into a heavy silence, with each member becoming lost in their own thoughts. They had always engaged the enemy from a distance or at least had enough space between them to riddle each prospective warrior with bullets. The question of subduing someone, especially those using magic to enhance themselves, seemed incredibly unwise. Everyone exchanged uncertain looks and collectively shrugged as they acknowledged their lack of a solid plan for non-lethal engagement.
A heavy silence descended upon the team as everyone looked at each other with eyes the kind laden with uncertainty. They'd always fought these magic users with the buffer of distance. But close up? That was a another question they weren’t too keen on finding out.
Ever the one to think outside the box, Elijah hummed in interest. "Hey, Yana,” he called out tapping the bag of beef jerky that had her little legs sticking out of it. “Do you have any way to drop some dude without, ya know, turning them into crispy a critter?" he asked as her legs kicked angrily at the sudden smack.
Suddenly her legs sunk into the bag and her tuny head popped out, narrowing her eyes at her insufferable human. “Haahhhh!?!?” An irritated and confused look clouded the little fairy’s face, clearly taken aback by the question.
“Why would I do something so nonsensical and stupid as that!?” she retorted, her tone dripping with disdain. “And why are you so insolent all of the time!?”
Unfazed by Yana's outburst, Elijah met her annoyed gaze with a mischievous and calculating look that flashed across his face for a moment. "Oh, if you can't do it, then don't worry about it," he said, his voice dripping with a challenge that insinuated the task was out of her capabilities. He continued, adding fuel to the fire, "If it's beyond your means, then don't worry about it. We'll figure something out."
Yana stared at him blankly for a few moment. She couldn’t believe the words that left her apostle’s mouth wand was clearly unable to process what was just said. The very implication that something might be beyond her capabilities was not just an affront to her pride, but an insult that couldn’t be left unasnwered. Then, suddenly, her hair billowed like a raging flame, a physical manifestation of her indignation.
Her reaction was instantaneous and intense. In a blur of motion that caught everyone off guard, she zipped out of the bag of jerky and grabbed a fist full of Elijah's long hair, yanking on it as she brought her face close to his, her eyes ablaze with a fiery fury. "What do you mean by 'can't' and 'beyond my means'!? I am a goddess!" she yelled, her voice a mix of anger and wounded pride. “You insolent little man! You idiot! You dummy!”
Elijah couldn’t help but wince at the deceptively powerful tug. His tactic of provoking Yana into action had worked a little too well. “Ow, ow, ow! Yana, chill!” He yelped as she pulled harder, growling at him. “I’m sorry! Relax! I believe you’re capable of anything!”
“Hmph!” Yana harrumphed as she released her human. "Well, of course I am!" She huffed, crossing her arms and spinning around in annoyance. “The mere fact you questioned my ability is not only unacceptable! But rude! Rude, rude, rude, rude, rude!”
As everyone stared at the two as if they lost their minds, Elijah rubbed his head where Yana had yanked his hair, wincing slightly from the unexpected fierceness of her grip. "God damn..." he muttered under his breath, but a grin still formed on his face. She had taken the bait, but now he had to see if he could reel her in.
Looking up at the tiny goddess, who was now floating with an air of indignation, Elijah decided to shift gears and aimed to appease her wounded pride. "Well, I just never seen you in action, you know? Maybe you could give your favorite human a demonstration of how magnificent you can be?" His tone was a mix of genuine curiosity and a dash of flattery, hoping to smooth over the ruffled feathers. “Maybe stretch your arms out and test the new strength you’ve been gaining?”
Still hovering with her arms crossed, Yana paused at the request. Her anger momentarily gave way to intrigue. The idea of showcasing her abilities, particularly after having them doubted, was an appealing opportunity to reassert her divine prowess, especially since she had taken a small slice of power from the few souls she had helped pass. Her expression softened slightly, and the flames in her hair dimmed as she considered Elijah's proposal.
"A demonstration, you say?" Yana mused, her voice losing some of its earlier sharpness. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to remind you mortals of the extent of my power.”
Elijah gave a cheeky grin to the rest of his team, who just stared at him as if he were a madman. “We just need you to make the person I point out squeal in pain while we tie ‘em up.”