Armstrong Base, Grenden Plains
December 9, 2024
Henry yawned, blinking away the gritty feeling behind his eyes. A week of downtime, Harding had said. Some downtime that turned out to be. Between setting up Sera’s crash course, cramming magical theory with Kelmithus, and endless briefings on the Ovinne Mountain Campaign, he’d barely had time to breathe. He could probably say the same for Sera, who should be halfway through her orientation training by now.
The IVAS unit beeped, finally finishing its boot sequence. He blinked as his standard HUD template filled the corners of his visor. Apparently, they’d managed to slap an EMF meter onto the helmet and connect it to the IVAS itself. It wasn’t pretty, but he’d take this makeshift mana detector over nothing at all.
“Dude,” Ron said, trudging along beside him. “You notice the EMF overlay’s eating up half the FOV?”
Henry found the EMF overlay and activated it. Ron wasn’t kidding. It dominated the center of the screen, completely taking up the bottom third and cutting into the temperature and humidity readings on his left. “Yeah, it’s cluttered as hell. Bet some intern back home pushed this update.”
“Real,” Ron muttered. “Wonder what they were told. See all these new widgets? The hell is ‘field density gradient’?”
Henry cycled through the menu, eyes narrowing as he focused on the new readout. “Hold up. This shit might lowkey be useful.”
Ron glanced over. “Yeah? How so?”
“Turn it on, and then uh…” Henry looked around. How could it be useful? Then he saw it – a fluctuation between a nearby tree and a JLTV parked under it. He pointed. “Look over there. See how the gradient changes when I move closer? Bet you this could help pinpoint spell sources or something.”
Ron nodded, studying his own display. “Predict incoming attacks?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, I see it,” Ron confirmed. “Still cluttered as hell though, but… yeah, you right. This shit might just be useful.”
“Exactly,” Henry agreed. “Whoever coded this probably thought they were making a fancy EMF detector for ghost hunters or something. Little do they know…”
Ron chuckled. “Little do they know, we out here living the dream.”
Maybe not the past week, but Henry could see where Ron was coming from. Actually, he couldn’t agree more. Chilling on an alien planet that just so happened to be a fantasy world, getting live magic shows, doing stuff Indiana Jones probably wished he could do – life on Gaerra beat anything else on Earth.
They trudged up the hill, the base’s perimeter fence fading behind them. Henry narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of Ryan, Isaac, and the Doc huddled under a tree at the top of the hill. All three seem to be preoccupied, gawking at something like kids at a circus.
“Wonder what’s got them so worked up?” Henry muttered.
Ron shrugged. “No clue, but I definitely ain’t gonna miss out.” He picked up the pace, running instead of trudging.
Henry followed after him. As they closed in, a crack like thunder split the air. Or maybe it was thunder.
“Yo, what’s going on?” Henry asked, reaching the top.
Ryan turned back. “‘Bout time you showed up, Captain. This ain’t like any fireworks show back home.” He gestured to the clearing down below.
Henry squinted into the clearing. There Kelmithus stood, nonchalant, unfazed. And Arran? The kid was in the midst of hauling himself off the ground, looking like a regular civilian who had just taken a blindside hit from Aaron Donald.
“Well hot damn,” Henry said. “How long’s this been going on?”
Isaac didn’t even turn around. “Around 10 minutes. Arran’s down again. Fifth time?” He turned to Ryan.
Ryan nodded.
“Yeah, fifth time,” Isaac continued. “Kid’s got guts, I’ll give him that.”
“Huh.” Henry glanced at Dr. Anderson, trying to gauge his reaction. He stood stock-still, eyes locked on the duel, transfixed. For once, the man was completely speechless.
Henry’s eyes returned to the battle. He spectated in silence as Arran downed a potion like a frat pledge taking a shot. The grimace on his face said it all – that shit was definitely not Gatorade. Probably more like Kirkland vodka. But hey, if it worked, it worked.
And work it did. In a matter of seconds, Arran was back on his feet. Sharp eyes, straight posture, and ready for another round. The IVAS confirmed it, registering a sudden spike in the ambient magic around Arran.
Even amped up like this, could he stand a chance against Kelmithus? The kid himself didn’t seem to think so. He took a defensive stance, keeping his distance from the Archmage. Henry had no clue what Arran might’ve done the last 5 times, but his position now looked like he’d probably exhausted all of his options.
Henry’s eyes flicked to the left of his HUD. “Humidity’s going up,” he muttered.
Ron nodded beside him. “Water spell, maybe?”
“Maybe. Or maybe –”
Before he could even finish sentence, the humidity readings subsided, replaced with an quick blip picked up by the infrared sensors and a spike in the EMF reading. Arran’s wand glowed as a volley of several firebolts spontaneously appeared over his shoulders, rocketing toward Kelmithus with blistering speed.
Huh, now that was interesting. It wasn’t the tactic he’d expected. Hell, it probably wasn’t a tactic anyone expected.
Anyone except for Kelmithus, probably. For a split second, a look flashed across his face. No, not surprise. It was more like he was… impressed. If it were anyone else, the attacks likely would’ve gotten through.
Instead, the firebolts simply evaporated into thin air. The humidity readings were the only clue as to what might’ve happened. The resulting steam fizzled as Kelmithus redirected it back toward Arran as a distraction.
Kelmithus’ casting was more like Arran’s quick firebolt casting, but barely registered on his IVAS at all – no EMF, no gradual humidity shift, nothing. Only when the spells actually materialized did they register, and holy shit did they light up.
The Archmage had simultaneously casted at least 3 spells, each one as difficult to track as it was complex. Henry’s eyes darted between the HUD and the clearing below, trying to process the flood of data. This must’ve been what it felt like for Annie to use an Advanced UAV properly as a newcomer to Call of Duty. Sorry, Annie.
The IR overlay lit up – or rather, lit down? – with a rapidly expanding cold spot centered on Arran. While the ambient temperature remained stable, the thermal imaging revealed a localized vortex of frigid air beginning to swirl around the young mage. A gust of wind tore through the clearing, kicking up a mini-cyclone of dead leaves and frost.
Reacting to the cold, Arran summoned a barrier of flames around hismelf. Too bad the kid didn’t know about the Ideal Gas Law. Instead of countering the cold, the heat only intensified the gale. The pressure difference amplified the vortex, nearly lifting him off his feet. Physics: 1, Magic: 0. Wait, no – Physics: 1, Magic: 1?
The Archmage had used basic thermodynamics to amplify his spell and set an unexpected trap. He was two steps ahead, knowing Arran would try to counter with fire, and that it would only make things worse.
It all happened in a flash so it was hard to notice, but the EMF readings spiked through the howling wind. The milligauss count jumped from an ambient 50 to a jaw-dropping 12,000 in an instant, coinciding with Kelmithus’ simultaneous casting. Floating above the Archmage’s outstretched hand was a fireball unlike anything Henry had ever seen. It was blue – not some standard Bunsen burner flame, but a vibrant, eye-searing cyan that spoke of extreme heat and insane combustion. What, did Kelmithus learn how a blowtorch worked, then somehow apply it to his fireball?
Arran, still reeling from the enhanced wind, barely had time to throw up a secondary magical shield before the sapphire flames slammed into him. The impact sent him skidding backwards, his feet leaving furrows in the ground.
The kid’s primary shields flickered a dangerous red – any more damage and he was out of the fight. And that’s where spell number 3 came in. As Arran struggled to regain his footing, the ground beneath him erupted in a tangle of thin roots. They snaked up his legs faster than he could react, anchoring him in place. Then, the roots calcified, turning from little more than vines to solid, gnarled wood.
Arran, to his credit, didn’t panic. His wand flashed, and the ground beneath him hardened, cutting the roots off – well, at their roots. Talk about fighting fire with fire – or in this case, earth with earth. He followed up with a flame-enchanted knife, slashing at the remaining tendrils with a neurosurgeon’s precision. Henry had to hand it to him; these defensive moves were pretty impressive.
But Kelmithus’ offense was just so much more. More roots lashed out from spots Arran had missed, sprouting from the unhardened ground. They herded Arran back, predictably so. Henry could see the trap coming from a mile away. While the kid was distracted with avoiding the roots, a tiny projectile flew in. A pebble – seriously, a pebble? – struck Arran’s shield just as he backpedaled. The timing was so perfect it was almost cruel. The shield shattered like cheap glass, leaving Arran exposed and probably feeling like an idiot.
The look on Arran’s face said it all – one part ‘how the hell did that happen?’ and one part ‘yeah, should’ve seen that coming.’ He raised a hand, looking thoroughly beaten. “I yield.”
Kelmithus acknowledged, his face a masterclass in restrained smugness. In the span of a few heartbeats, the Archmage had demonstrated exactly why he was the teacher, and Arran the student.
Henry glanced at his team, nodding toward the clearing. They made their way down, half-sliding on loose dirt and pebbles. The IVAS kept pinging residual signatures, ambient mana readings slowly dropping from their post-battle high. It reminded him of the radiation falloff charts from his CBRN training, only instead of half-lives and rem, it was magical energy dissipation.
As they approached, he caught the tail end of Kelmithus’ one-on-one with Arran.
“– must remain focused, even amidst the fray. For even a mere pebble may fell a giant.”
Yeah, no kidding.
Kelmithus turned to them, waving his hand. “Ah, our observers wend hither. I trust the demonstration proved most enlightening?”
Henry nodded. He glanced at Arran, who looked like he’d just survived the Nasty Nick obstacle course at SERE school, complete with the ‘what the hell am I doing with my life’ thousand-yard stare.
“Enlightening’s one way to put it,” Henry said. “Though I think for Arran here, ‘humbling’ might be more uh, applicable.”
Arran managed a weak smile. “Perhaps both, Captain.”
Kelmithus chuckled. “Indeed so. Shall we now dissect this encounter? It is rife with matters worthy of examination.”
The Archmage led them to a set of tents off to the side. Grabbing a water bottle from a cooler, he plopped down on a chair and faced them. “Though you witnessed but to the duel’s conclusion, I wonder… have you any insights?”
Henry appreciated Kelmithus’ approach. It made sense to start with what they’d seen before getting into the nitty gritty – test the waters and see what their knowledge base consisted of, so to speak.
“Well,” he began, “that water-to-fire combo Arran pulled off was pretty slick. Looked like he was gonna cast some sort of water-based spell, but flipped it into those firebolts. Didn’t see it coming. Now, I’m not too sure about the magic side of things, but from a tactical standpoint – if I was a mage and wanted to prepare my counters based on what I thought my opponent was doing – I’d say it was a solid feint.”
The others agreed, and so did Kelmithus. “Ah, yes. Clever. Arran, might you expound upon the underlying theory?”
Arran straightened up as he refreshed with a potion and gestured the flask toward Henry. “Captain Donnager’s words ring true; I aimed to cast Icicle Spear. At the same time, I prepared to cast several firebolts. The Icicle Spear was – I hoped it would mask my real intention to cast fire.”
“Thank goodness I ain’t been to a magic duel. I’d just shoot the sonuvabitch and be done with it,” Ryan muttered with crossed arms.
Ryan did have a point. All this seemed a bit excessive for eliminating a target. Throw shields into the mix though, and all of a sudden attrition becomes a consideration and these tactics become significant. Lord knows how they’d probably complicate their techniques if they had access to a thousand other alternatives via magic.
“So a bluff, basically,” Henry said. “Make Kel think you’re gonna throw water or ice at him, and have him set up to defend against that kind of attack, then hit him with the opposite instead.”
Kelmithus confirmed his guess. “You have the right of it. Howbeit, I venture Arran failed to anticipate the swiftness with which I would discern and counter his ploy.”
Arran’s face reddened slightly. “I fancied myself quite astute,” he admitted. He ran a hand through his hair, a self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “Suppose not. I did attempt to mirror your techniques in the previous rounds. Though… I suppose it was folly to think one of your mastery would not swiftly recognize them.”
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” Ron chimed in. “From where I was standing, it looked hella effective. Shit, if you pulled that on anyone other than Kel, they’d prolly be cooked – literally.”
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Kelmithus chuckled. “True indeed, Sir Ron. Well have you executed the technique, albeit just not as well as I. With time, I am confident you shall master the art of deeper deception.”
Dr. Anderson had been fidgeting for the past minute, clearly bursting to ask something. Seeing his chance, he finally blurted out, “Arran’s counter was solid, alright. Surely, he held his own, but those blue fireballs? I must say, that was bloody brilliant. Though, I’ve not seen you ever pull off something like that. Any chance you could break down the mechanics of that? For purely academic reasons, of course.”
Kelmithus’ eyes lit up. Oh, he knew that look – it was the same one his high school chem teacher got right before he ‘accidentally’ set off the emergency sprinkler system. Again.
“Ha! Forgive me; you may find my response wanting. By my troth, I found myself astounded at the spell’s success,” the Archmage explained.
Wait, he wasn’t even sure before he tested his theory? Henry found himself speechless. “Uh…”
Kelmithus paused, looking up at the top of the tent before levelling his eyes. “I must confess, I ventured into uncharted waters with this experiment. It was a… a scholar’s gambit, if you will.”
Henry fought the urge to roll his eyes. A ‘scholar’s gambit’ that could’ve fried them all if it went sideways. Still, he had to admit the results were rather impressive. “A gambit that packed quite a punch. How’d you come up with it?”
“Ah,” Kelmithus’ eyes gleamed. “Fortune smiled upon me yesterday. You see, as I aided Dr. Perdue in the Lindwyrm’s dissection, I espied containers of peculiar aspect. Though they bore semblance to common loam, they were in fact a substance to enrich soil.”
Ron’s face scrunched up in confusion. “You mean fertilizer?”
Fertilizer. The stuff that was half plant growth and half improvised explosive. This ought to be good.
Kelmlithus gave Ron a nod. “Indeed. The cautionary placards beside them interested me. How could such simple earth harbor such danger? Thus I asked, whereupon Dr. Perdue described the nature of a compound called potassium nitrate – an oxidizing agent, as she termed it.”
He continued his explanation, the excitement in his voice only growing. “Its properties for enhancing combustion are truly prodigious. Naturally, this begat a litany of queries regarding the mechanics of such combustion and the principles she dubbed ‘thermodynamics’ and ‘chemistry’. Ergo, I besought her leave to borrow some, to use as casting reagents.”
Kelmithus offered a demonstration, unsealing a small pouch of the fertilizer and using a fingertip’s worth of it to ignite a small, blue flame before blowing it away.
Huh, so that was how reagents were used. “So,” Henry said, “instead of just using the surrounding air, you incorporated our science and chemicals into your spellcasting? And for the other spells as well?”
Kelmithus nodded. “A prescient inquiry, Captain. Indeed, the ice spell I used was predicated upon principles of thermodynamics – specifically, inducing a difference in pressure to engender powerful winds.”
Henry mentally replayed the duel. The wind wasn’t quite around hurricane or tornado level but still strong, definitely over fifty miles per hour. With snow still falling, Kelmithus’ ice must’ve been way below freezing to create such a strong difference in pressure. “Let me guess, Ideal Gas Law?”
The Archmage’s eyebrows shot up. “Your discernment is impeccable, Captain. This principle I but lately acquired from Dr. Perdue’s lectures – a truly captivating facet of your ‘science’. It unfolds… why, manifold new avenues for magic.”
Well, shit. With the insight on combustion and thermodynamics, it looks like they’d just opened Pandora’s box. If not for the circumstances, Henry probably would’ve said something along the lines of ‘so much for OPSEC.’ Though, science lessons were already on the table for exchanges with the Sonarans, so he supposed it was only a matter of time. Plus, Kelmithus already had clearance; the man just hadn’t had the time to explore a lot. Since the cat was out of the bag at this point, might as well roll with it and thank God it was Kelmithus of all people who was the first to figure it out, and not someone like Carvus.
Too bad they couldn’t really exploit science-enhanced spells though. He had some damn good ideas too – thermite or napalm as a reagent, magical atmospheric lensing, the list went on. Oh, if only they actually had mana to work with. Now that would’ve really sold Henry on the fantasy stuff, being able to cast spells for himself. Hell, it might’ve even pushed him past mere professional interest into Ron’s level of hype. A man could dream…
“What about those roots at the end?” Dr. Anderson’s question cut through his daydream of magical napalm. “I barely registered any magical signature before they appeared.”
Henry’s attention snapped back to the conversation. Come to think of it, he hadn’t picked up on any tells either. His IVAS hadn’t so much as blipped before those roots had Arran trussed up.
“A fine observation. Of course, it is the very dearth of such ‘signatures’ that renders such casting effective in the fray.”
Isaac frowned. “But there’s always a tell, right? Even if its subtle.”
“Indeed,” Kelmithus confirmed. “For earth-wrought spells like the roots, one oft finds tremors the surest herald. It is the rumbles beneath that presage the spell’s emergence; you merely stood too far to sense them.”
“Like how you can feel a tank coming before you see it?” Ron asked.
Kelmithus tilted his head. “If this ‘tank’ is as heavy as your ‘UGVs’, then it is just so. Albeit on a far smaller scale, naturally.”
The pieces clicked. “Something we’d be able to feel through our boots – hopefully,” Henry said.
“With diligence, certainly. Shall we put it to the test?” Kelmithus stood from his seat, gesturing outside.
Henry followed the Archmage outside. The next hour was a crash course in magical seisomology. The first few root spells and earth spikes – slow, dull ones, of course – were easy to detect; they were accompanied by a rather obvious rumble and took a few seconds to manifest. He couldn’t say the same for the other ones.
As the hour drew on, Kelmithus’ spells became increasingly subtle. At one point, they became almost impossible to detect.
“I ain’t feeling shit,” Ryan grumbled after the fifth attempt.
“Patience,” Kelmithus counseled. “Attend not to what you expect, but to any deviation from the common.”
Dr. Anderson seemed to get the hang of it easily by getting low to the ground. Effective, sure, but only at detecting the tremor. Kelmithus demonstrated just why that wasn’t a great option, having the roots lash out faster than Dr. Anderson could react, and they were back to square one – trying to detect the spells upright.
Slowly, maddeningly slowly, they began to improve. Henry found he could sometimes sense a faint tremor about half a second before the roots erupted – the point right before they rocketed out of the ground. It wasn’t much, but in combat, that half-second could mean the difference between getting ensnared and dodging clear. And with his reactions, that half-second was all he really needed.
“Okay, so we’ve got the earth spells covered,” Henry said. “What about other types? Fire, wind, that kind of thing?”
“The basic earth spells, yes. We will review the more advanced spells at another time. For now,” Kelmithus gestured, holding his palm out. “Let us begin with the rudiments. Mark well as I conjure a simple fireball, then do so with more refinement. Observe closely.”
Henry nodded, locking his eyes onto the Archmage’s hand. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the air above Kelmithus’ palm begin to shimmer, like the heat waves off a sun-baked road. The EMF readings on Henry’s HUD started to climb steadily.
“Huh, would ya look at that,” Ryan murmured.
The shimmering intensified, and suddenly a small fireball burst into existence, hovering inches above Kelmithus’ skin.
Kelmithus quenched the flame without so much as a gesture. “Now, as I refine my technique. Remember, mastery lies not in mere puissance, but in understanding and control.”
This time, Henry couldn’t spot any visible shimmer. He switched to the IVAS’ thermal imagine. For a few seconds, nothing. Then, a small heat signature began to form just above Kelmithus’ palm. The EMF readings remained steady.
He was about to comment when the readings suddenly spiked. In that same instant, another fireball materialized, this one forming much faster than the first.
“Shit,” Ron breathed. “That was wayyy quicker.”
“Indeed, more adept mages can shorten the casting time and focus the mana more efficiently. The harbingers wane, the spell manifests in but a twinkling.”
Henry thought it through. “So for a basic cast, we’ve got visible distortion and a gradual build-up. But for an advanced cast, we’ve got what, minimal visible signs and a sudden spike right before the spell manifests?”
“Aptly observed,” Kelmithus confirmed. “The more versed the mage, the more fleeting your moment to act becomes. Ergo, recognizing even the slightest tell is of great import. Amid the tumult of battle, such acuity may well be the fulcrum between victory and… let us say, a rather uncomfortable demise.”
They spent the next hour practicing with other spell types, learning to spot the signs that preceded each – changes in air pressure and slight breezes for basic wind spells, fluctuating humidity levels for water spells, static buildup for lightning spells, and condensation for ice spells. It was grueling work, some harder to discern than others. It would’ve been great if they were as obvious as a random guy shifting his stance and body for a punch, but he couldn’t argue with their progress. It was easy enough to spot beginner spells – even some of the more refined ones, especially up close. As long as he wasn’t up against a mage on Kelmithus’ level, he’d rather have to deal with magic than a camouflaged sniper or IED ambush.
“You seem assured,” Kelmithus said.
The archmage must’ve seen the look on his face. Well, from the way he seemed to address them as a whole instead of just one person, they probably all had some version of that same look.
“Perhaps we ought to put your mettle to the test? A practical exercise, if you will.”
Henry smirked at Kelmithus’ suggestion. Now this was more his speed. All the theory and lectures were well and good, but nothing beat hand’s on experience. He caught Ron’s eye, saw the same eagerness reflected there. Even Dr. Anderson, usually more at home with analysis and excavation, looked ready to put his new knowledge through its paces.
“What did you have in mind?” Henry asked. He really did wonder – would it be a simple spell detection exercise? Something more involved?
“A combat simulation,” the Archmage began, gesturing to the open field around them. “Apply your newfound acumen – identify and eschew our spells while striving to best Arran and myself.”
Henry felt his eyebrows shoot up. “Best, huh? As in actually fight back?”
“Indeed,” Kelmithus nodded. “Though with considerably less… finality than your wonted arms.”
The Archmage brought them back to the tents, where he approached a crate and produced several paintball markers. Henry recognized them as Tippmann A-5s, not too different from what they used in CQC training back at the Academy. There were a few other options, too – including a rifle-style marker meant for longer range engagements.
“These shall be your weapons,” Kelmithus said. “Arran and I shall don protective gear, of course. It would be folly to mar such fine robes.”
Arran appeared behind him, carrying a bundle of what looked like modified fencing masks and light cloaks. Henry couldn’t help but grin at the image of the dignified Archmage running around in paintball gear.
“And our defense?” Ryan asked, examining his paintball gun with a critical eye.
“Ah, yes. The crux of our exercise.” Kelmithus pulled out his wand and pointed it at them, one by one. “Each of you shall bear three layers of magical shielding. Deem them your… vitality.”
A subtle wisp enveloped him, reaching up from the blue magic circle that had appeared at his feet.
“You shall be ‘neutralized’ should two shields be sundered,” Kelmithus continued. “The last shield stands as safeguard – ‘just in case’, as you might say. You may descry your shields’ integrity by sight, as ever.”
Henry nodded. Just like the Adventurer’s Guild Test, with a few concessions and differences. “How are we gonna do this? We’re not going up against anything crazy, are we?”
The Archmage held his hands up, chuckling. “Oh, not at all! We shall confine ourselves to lesser spells – naught to cause true harm, even sans shields. Mostly basic elemental spells.”
He stroked his beard pensively. “Four phases should suffice. Arran shall commence with the simplest of techniques, then unleash his full puissance. I shall be your opponent for the final two phases, escalating to more… creative applications.”
The way Kelmithus said ‘creative’ sent a small shiver down Henry’s spine. He’d seen the Archmage get ‘creative’ during his duel with Arran. No way he meant it in that way, right? Either way, this was definitely gonna be one hell of a challenge.
“Terrain?” Isaac chimed in, scanning the open field.
Kelmithus smiled and waved his wand. Henry’s jaw dropped as mounds rose and fell, ditches carved themselves out of nowhere and nothing, and what looked like the beginnings of walls took shape.
“I shall fashion a… dynamic battlefield,” Kelmithus said. “The terrain shall transmute twixt phases, growing more labyrinthine and dangerous – chokepoints, shifting walls, and such. You must thus adapt with celerity.”
It was damn impressive. This was way beyond any urban warfare training Henry had ever done at the McKenna MOUT site back at Benning. A shifting battlefield would force them to stay on their toes, never getting too comfortable with any one piece of cover — or any one position.
“Objectives and scoring?” he asked.
“Your objective will be to survive,” Kelmithus replied. “Neutralize Arran or myself – a direct hit with your markers shall suffice – and you’ve mastered that phase. We shall judge your performance on shield preservation. Retain all shields, and you’ve achieved perfection. Lose two, and you’ve failed.”
It was a straightforward system; simple enough. No convoluted point values to keep track of, just pure survival and mission accomplishment.
“Time limit?”
“We’ll start with fifteen minutes per phase, adjusting as needful.” Kelmithus glanced at Arran, who nodded in agreement. “Have you further inquiries ere we begin?”
Henry looked at his team. Nothing. “I think we’re good,” he said, hefting his paintball marker. “Just one last thing. Safe word? In case things get out of hand?”
“A wise precaution,” Kelmithus concurred. “I suppose ‘ceasefire’ shall suffice. Now, shall we grant you time for strategem? You have ten minutes to prepare ere Phase One commences.”
Henry nodded and gestured for his team to huddle around. "Alright, let's break it down. We've dealt with Nobian mages, but Sonaran mages - experienced adventurers at that - are gonna be a whole different beast. I'm expecting different tactics from Arran and Kel, and it wouldn't be a stretch to say they've probably got COIN experience too - dealing with Nobians and all that."
"Not to mention the fact that they've fought alongside us already. They know our playbook; they'll be ready for standard maneuvers," Ryan brought up.
Henry grimaced. Ryan was right on the money. Their usual tactics might as well be an open book to Kel, maybe Arran. “Good catch.”
“If they know what we’ll do, shall we shake it up?” Dr. Anderson asked.
Henry glanced at the shifting terrain around them. Kelmithus was already shaping the battlefield – low walls and scattered cover points materializing from the ground.
Shake it up? They could probably do that, but he wasn’t so sure. CQB was dangerous. Against a mage? Doubly so. “Let’s stick with what we know – fast and violent. See how it works and adjust from there.”
“We’ll approach with a modified wedge formation,” Henry continued. “Should still be our best bet. Flexible enough to adapt on the fly, familiar enough that we won’t trip over ourselves trying something completely new.”
He sketched out the formation in the dirt. “Owens, you’re on point.”
“On point, huh?”
Henry patted him on the shoulder. “All those countless hours watching anime finally paying off. You’re the fastest and most accurate when it comes to identifying spells.”
“Well, shit,” Ron chuckled. “Told ya it’d come in handy.”
Somehow, he couldn’t disagree with Ron on that one. Henry continued, “Hayes, Yen – you’re on the flanks. Doc, you’ve got the rear. The good Archmage never said anything about other tools, so you’re gonna be on the Black Hornet.”
He then tapped the center of the sketch. “I’ll take take center, coordinate our movements. Once the Doc’s identified a path to the objective, we’ll approach via bounding overwatch. Owens and Yen, you’re Red. Hayes, Doc – you’re Blue.”
“How we gonna keep track of shields?” Ron asked.
It would’ve been great if their IVAS units were on par with the Master Chief’s helmet, complete with shield integrity indicators and a neat audio cue, but they had to work with what they had. “It’s as Kelmithus said – discern by sight. We go with a buddy system. See a shield flicker or change color, call it out.”
“As for spells,” Henry continued, “keep it short and sweet. Type, then direction. Fireball from two o’clock? ‘Fire, two’. Same shit we use for any other mage.”
The terrain was nearly complete, which meant their time was almost up.
Isaac spoke up. “Say, what if the terrain shifts mid-firefight? We could end up separated or cut off.”
Kelmithus never outright mentioned that, but knowing him, there was a good chance it was part of the ‘creative’ applications he brought up. “Valid point. If that happens, fall back to the nearest piece of cover. It won’t take long for the minimap to update, but use your judgement.”
The ground stopped rumbling; the training site was now complete.
“Alpha Team, shall we commence?” Kelmithus’ voice came through their comms.
Henry swapped to his team’s channel, ordering a comms check. As the last acknowledgment came through, he responded on the Archmage’s channel. “We’re ready.”
“Very well,” Kelmithus responded. “Begin.”