Falcher knew little about these paladins or Torcall. From what Sura told him, the paladins were the enforcement arm of Huma designed to use Torcallism, as it had been nicknamed, as a justification for carrying out the law of the land. It sheds some light on why Gabriel never left the shadows of the alley to return to civilized society and it explained the heavy footprint of the city guard. It was a power grab by those in command. Sura called upon her followers and got a small stack of books about Huma and the Paladins and told Falcher to read up.
Most of the books were a slog to read through. They read like frog egg clusters on wet paper. A thousand pages later, he found something interesting.
Emperor Ademus Torcall had used the chaotic period of the Phodusic Wars to establish a unified multi-city country, one of the first of its kind, late in the first era. With twelve cities under one banner through careful and thorough politics, Emperor Torcall amassed an army. The ninth legion became known as the Paladins of Torcall, as they were some of the hardiest and most capable soldiers under the emperor’s command. Under his banner, they marched with a degree of funding that the other eight legions never saw and had equipment that no other city-state could compete with.
Some cities challenged Torcall’s ninth legion and lost, some heard the news and surrendered upon its arrival. There was one league of city-states that held their ground the best and resisted his reign for twenty years. This was the Commonwealth of Oskary. Comprising sixty-two cities, they challenged Torcall’s ninth with an amassed an army of nearly two hundred thousand levies and mercenaries. The second and fifth legions were called upon and, while able to save the ninth from a total loss, the first war with the Commonwealth was a decisive victory in its favor.
Twenty years later, after Torcall finished conquering the rest of the continent, he placed all fifteen legions on the Commonwealth’s border and, with no formal warning, marched. The Commonwealth of Oskary fell within two weeks after being unable to mobilize any meaningful amount of resistance.
Torcall spent those twenty years downplaying the first Commonwealth War as nothing more than a probing attack. Persistent campaigning and propaganda efforts painted the Ninth Legion as undefeated, and aside from that war, it truly was undefeated.
For the next few millennia, they repurposed the Ninth Legion from an offensive shock army of elite soldiers to guardsmen. Some would consider it a downgrade, but becoming a guardsman was one of the best-paying jobs during the height of the Empire of Humanity. Of the guardsmen, there were the elites, the Royal Guard. The Royal Guard was under the direct command of the Emperor himself and as he amassed power through influence and physical wealth, he’d accrued magical capabilities as well.
At first, it was unknown how or why, but it’s known today that a rare gene within humans does more than give them access to mana. This gene doubles their sensitivity to it and allows them to craft spells at will without needing the arcane language. Through spell crafting, Torcall shaped the ninth legion into his personal army of paladins.
Blessed with Torcall’s wisdom and strength, the Paladins are both formidable fighters and tacticians. To further strengthen them, beyond what their lifetime of rigorous training can do, Torcall granted them heroic-class weapons. These weapons had even more boons, buffs, and effects to force fights in the favor of his men.
These heroic weapons were first sighted during the Second Commonwealth War, and they quickly demolished any resistance encountered. A little known detail of empirical history is that the Commonwealth had a large population of were-creatures and a sibling species to modern beastfolk that have since gone extinct. Torcall specifically enchanted the heroic-class weapons to induce holy smite against were-creatures and the half-breeds.
Falcher stared at the words wide-eyed. Sura had lived through the extermination of her people and presumably had survived for twenty thousand years, living on the scraps found in the sewers. He wondered if the holy smite the book referenced would affect him, but he hoped it wouldn’t. The wolf-kin set the book down to stretch his legs as he’d been diligently reading for a whole day, waiting for Sura to give him the escape plan. He didn’t like the idea of waiting, but he knew he had no other choice.
The wolfkin climbed out of his chair and stretched. His whole back popped as he bent over to touch his toes. He straightened himself out and cracked his knuckles. Moving again after having been sitting and reading for so many hours was a tremendous relief to him. His little corner of Suranite territory was a cramped space, similar to a broom closet, but it offered privacy and a comfortable place to rest. He pushed aside the thin linen draperies. The Suranite shrine had grime and old bloodstains all over it, but the sheer volume of fresh herbs minimized the surrounding smell.
He was by himself for the time being, and this part of the sewers was quiet. He let out a sigh and turned around to go back to reading. The textbooks he had access to were relatively newer in publication compared to what he’d taken from the Akron Library. The rest of the day was agonizingly dull.
When he awoke the following morning, Sierra’s voice greeted him. “Falcher, you awake?”
Falcher let out a long-winded yawn and sounded off. “I’m up.”
Sierra pushed the curtain aside. She wore the big silhouette of a robe that he had seen her wear during the ceremony a few days before. Only her head and hands were visible. “Sura requests your presence.”
Falcher sat up with some sense of urgency. He was hoping this was the call to action, as he wanted to be rid of the city sewers once and for all. He hated being nose blind to its odors.
Sura was standing in front of the altar, addressing a few other werewolves. She saw Falcher step into view and nodded to acknowledge him, dismissing the others a minute later. She turned to him with a wide, grateful smile. “Ah, glad to see you’re awake, dear.”
Falcher crossed his arms and smirked, “So what’s the plan, madam?”
“With the horn back in my hands, we can all leave this damnable city. We just have to make a big enough distraction to escape.” She then pointed to an old and worn map she’d pinned to the wall. “We’re going after the barracks. We draw the alarm bells there and the guards will follow.”
“Sounds insanely dangerous,” Falcher commented.
“It is a suicide mission. However, we’re not just freeing ourselves.” A devilish grin appeared. She had something planned. “Gabriel has spent the past day gathering up all the homeless and escapees who’ve been in hiding and bringing them down here. You and I are going to be spearheading the charge through the sewers. There’ll be fewer guards once the alarm bells go off.”
He nodded in acknowledgment. “How many people are coming with us?”
“A little over two hundred,” she said.
A single drop of sweat fell from his brow. “I’m sorry, two hundred? How are we sneaking two hundred people out of the city all at once?”
“The sewer exit here,” she pointed to the southeast side of the city. “It’s a blind spot in the city watch and we can follow the old canal to the cliffs. Once we reach the cliffs, we’re home free.”
Falcher followed behind Sura. These parts of the sewers had no lighting, and no one inhabited them. The convoy of two hundred homeless people, plus a handful of werewolves, trailed behind both of them. The march was quiet except for the sounds of feet hitting sludge-covered brick. They followed the maze of tunnels southward using the map Sura had procured. The convoy came to a halt at the last turn, and Sura and Falcher rounded the corner to get a look at the exit. Standing at the mouth of the sewers were two paladins. The mouth had a massive iron grate over it, likely to keep people out of it.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“I count two,” Falcher said in a hushed tone.
“There are usually four at the sewers,” she countered. Sura motioned for one of the werewolf escorts to approach. “Head to the nearest manhole cover and get an ear to the surface. If you hear the alarm bells, come get us.”
For a while, they waited. Freedom was just on the other side of the iron grates. Sura had been licking her lips in excitement. She, just like the rest of them, was eager to escape their holding cell.
Falcher held his rapiers out but slacked at his sides. He glanced back at the convoy and the other werewolves. They, too, were ready to get out and run. Most of them were middle-aged or older, and a few families caught in the mix. They were all looking ragged and underfed, despite what the Syndicate could offer them. Some of them had visible branding on their arms, a sign of their contracts with the Syndicates. Sura must’ve had a lot of sway to get them free of their contracts. His mind continued to wander.
Then, ever so faintly, he could hear the hammering of a brass bell. Then a second bell, then a third, fourth. After a minute, the asynchronous clanging of bells threatened to give him a headache, but it meant the entire city was active. Up ahead, the pair of guards took readied poses and stepped closer to the sewer’s iron grate. Falcher nudged Sura. “I get left, you get right, we hit them together.”
Sura nodded and flexed her hands, causing massive wolf-like claws to emerge from between her fingers. “Finally.”
Stealthily, both of them approached the sewer grate. The pair of paladins had taken a battle-ready stance and were on edge, scanning the area in front of them. Both were within poking distance. The bars of the sewer grates allowed weapons to fit through, but not for someone to squeeze between them. There was a door that was chained shut in the middle of it.
Falcher looked to his right and saw Sura crouched and ready to pounce. He stood up and lunged forward, thrusting both rapiers forward and into the paladin’s back. However, something didn’t work. The swords bounced off the plate armor with two loud dings. Falcher stepped back from the bars.
Sura lunged into the bars and swiped at the back of the paladin in front of her. The claws scraped at the metal but barely dug so much as a gouge out of it. She’d realized something horrifying. She’d underestimated the equipment they wore.
The two paladins spun around, one with a longsword and shield, the other holding a halberd. Both wore full-face white-iron helmets and full suits of white-iron plate armor. The halberd paladin brought his weapon down on the chain that kept the sewer grate door closed and destroyed it. The shield paladin kicked the grate door open and charged in, targeting Falcher. He thrust the sword forward but missed.
Despite being cornered, Falcher spotted an opportunity to deliver a taunt. He thought that if he could frustrate them enough, they’d swing without aim. So, he hurled his first taunt, “Hah! Looks like daddy’s boy doesn’t know how to aim.” Then he thrust a rapier forward, hitting the gap beneath the shoulder pauldron. The blade poked a hole clean through, causing the paladin to step back.
Sura had a moment to help him. She howled loudly, signaling for the other werewolves to come to her aid. She then ran to the grate door to block the other paladin from entering. With a hasty lunge, she threw herself at him and took two hefty swipes at him. The first caught the halberd and pulled it down, the second caught the helmet and ripped the face guard off.
The halberd paladin was a young man, barely out of his twenties. Once his face guard was gone, a look of concern overtook him. He staggered back and called out, “Torcall grant me strength!” Then, with both hands on the haft, he swung the halberd with full force and the ax head broke Sura’s guard and dug deep into her right biceps. He yanked down on it, stretching the gouge across half of her arm, and then took another swing. Sura jumped back, and the halberd clanged off the grate bars.
The shield paladin too called for aid from Torcall. “Shield me from their claws!” A glistening translucent yellow magical sphere formed around him. He then swung his sword again, which was easily parried by Falcher. Using the momentum from the deflection, he spun about on his heels and swung with his shield. The heavy-weighted shield bashed the wolfkin into the brick wall.
Rounding the corner came six more werewolves, who howled to announce their presence. Then they charged forward at the closest paladin. Each one took swipes, clawing at the plate armor, successfully ripping off some pieces.
With his focus divided, Falcher took the opportunity and thrust both rapiers into the Paladin’s back. The sharp tips pierced the iron and gored the paladin. He leaned in and muttered, “Enjoy becoming dinner.” Purple magic shimmered across his eyes briefly.
Sura’s right arm suffered from a crippling injury. It lulled at her side, searing with red-hot pain. She kept her left hand clenched and claws out. She rushed him again, knocking the halberd aside, and brought her forehead down to the paladin’s face. He stumbled backward with a broken nose and blood pouring. She had not finished with him. A second swipe with claws and she completely disarmed him.
Now weaponless, the Paladin realized he was going to need something more. “I beseech thee, father of humanity, become my weapon,” he called out and within the grip of his hands formed holy longswords made of pure radiant magic.
Sura’s eyes widened out of fear.
The paladin, now on the offensive, swung each weapon wildly, landing strike after strike and with each hit, a burst of radiant energy blasted apart chunks of Sura’s flesh.
The other paladin was in much better shape, but Torcall’s protective bubble didn’t last long against so many claws. Once it fell, his shield suddenly glowed a bright solar yellow and, in a blinding flash, it incinerated three of the six werewolves instantly.
Falcher let go of his rapiers and clapped his hands against the sides of the paladin’s head. A massive concussive blast blew out the paladin’s eardrums and cracked the helmet he wore in multiple spots. While momentarily concussed, Falcher wound up his fist and knocked him in the back of the skull.
Sura reached for her horn and, within a heartbeat, got a blast of air through it. The war horn drowned out all other noise. The werewolves and Sura all doubled their muscle mass, and Sura’s wound healed instantly. Moments later, the city’s alarm bells rang frantically again. Sura stared down her opposing paladin with glistening and vengeful yellow eyes.
After the war horn was blown, the paladin’s holy weapons suddenly vanished, leaving him defenseless. A look of fear overcame him, especially as his gaze caught sight of his companion being mauled by an overwhelming pack of extra-strong werewolves. One step after another, the paladin backed away from his rejuvenated attacker. “nice… puppy,” he said timidly.
Sura lunged forward at him, claws and fangs out.
The shield paladin was running low on stamina and struggled to fend off four attackers. The war horn blowing made him feel significantly weaker, as if something had drained his mana. When he saw his battle companion trying to run in fear, his own morale faltered and he surrendered to his fate. The paladin dropped his weapons and fell to his knees, looking up regretfully at three sets of hungry and angry yellow eyes.
Falcher ran back to the crowd of people who were waiting in the tunnels still. “Come on! We have a way out!” He shouted. With the mass of refugees in tow, Falcher sprinted past the fallen paladins and out of the iron grate. Sura and the other werewolves, with blood-painted mouths, waited just beyond the grate. Falcher hopped down into the abandoned sewage canal and everyone else followed.
Looking behind him, he saw multiple massive smoke plumes all across the city. The smell of raging fire was already wafting in their direction. He slowed to a stop and stared at the columns of smoke as everyone else continued to run away. Only Sura stopped to check in. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Falcher took a deep breath. “What happened?”
Sura patted his back and snorted hard. “Don’t worry about it. I got my revenge against Torcall is all you need to know.”
Cresting just above the city walls were the licking hairs of orange flames. An entire city was burning at the will of a god. Falcher had previously thought Huma weakened her, especially after his reading. She had a lot more power than she originally let on. “Was this the plan all along?”
Sura cocked a brow at his question. “A modified plan.” She turned about and ran further down the canal.
Falcher stared at the burning city. So many people’s livelihoods were lost because of power and revenge. So much knowledge was burnt and turned to ash because they were hateful. Falcher almost wept for the city. He’d hoped to have been an ambassador, to speak to foreign delegations or ministers on Oakengrove’s behalf, but he realized now that it was nothing more than a pipe dream; a very romanticized pipe dream.
He threw a glance down the canals. They were all gone without a trace. He took a deep breath and puffed out his chest, and told himself repeatedly to remain strong, to not blame himself for the squabbles of others. He walked back to the sewer grate. One paladin was strewn about with a dismembered arm and his guts disemboweled. He knelt down beside the corpse, resting a hand upon the human’s face to close his panicked eyes. “Rest easy. I’m no cleric, but in Simadger’s place, I shall sing of your steadfast will in the face of overwhelming odds.”
He looked to the other paladin whose corpse was nothing more than mangled meat upon a white-iron plate. It was barely recognizable as even human. What happened here was a crime, vandalism of the highest caliber. However, he couldn’t ignore the pain and suffering all those people endured, the lives they watched longingly, but witnessing hatred being repaid with wrath still hurt him.
He slowly stood up and rested a hand upon the hilt of his rapier. Chaos and screams of agony filled the city above, while the canal behind him remained empty and quiet. He couldn’t stay, even if he wanted to help ease some of that pain. He knew they’d blame him for it. Thus, he hopped down into the canal and followed it all the way.