After finally joining up with the main assault force beating back the kobalds, Captain Angleton was able to get his elites some fresh supplies and rest. But, before he could enjoy some bunk time, he’d have to check in with whoever was currently in charge.
Making his way to the command tent, he ducked under the entryway and reported to the commander leading the engagement.
Looking up from the table, which was currently displaying a hologram of their force distribution, the commander locked eyes with Captain Angleton and said, “We were expecting you yesterday, what kept you?”
Captain Angleton stood tall, his presence filling the room despite how many aides, captains, and other soldiers were currently in the tent.
“It was difficult to make our way around the kobald lines. While our initial intention was to act as a distracting force from the rear, we may have been a little overzealous with our probing attacks. The kobalds quickly decided to throw everything they could at us. We were forced to either retreat into mountain caves and hope for rescue, or choose to fight limited engagements while circling around the engagement area. It took longer than expected to break through.”
Snorting at the understatement, Commander Dahl replied, “Losses?”
Captain Angelton stonily replied, “None, Sir.”
Nodding, the commander returned to staring at the hologram hovering in the middle of the wooden table. “When will you and your elites be ready to re-engage with the enemy?”
Not even taking a moment to think, the captain replied, “12 hours. We’ve already bunked down with the reserves and are getting some rest. We’ll resupply and be ready to join the lines after getting some well-earned sleep.”
Nodding, but not looking away from the battle, the commander replied, “Very well, captain. I’ll be deploying you and your elites in the morning. Go and get yourself some rest. You can also expect a commendation in your file for your excellent work. You’re dismissed.”
Offering the commander a quick nod, Captain Angelton turned on his heel and made his way out of the tent. Upon leaving, he offered a nod to the guards at the entrance before seeing Sergeant Blackwood get up from the chair he’d been lazily enjoying.
Holding back a snort at his friend’s carefree attitude, as it wouldn’t be proper to break his decorum, Captain Angleton began speaking the moment the sergeant approached, “We’ve got 12 hours to get some rest and resupply our troops. You and Collins are to make sure we get our gear sorted and be sure to have everyone pick up a few extra shields and throwing spears.”
Nodding easily as he hurried to keep up with the Captain’s long strides, Sergeant Blackwood replied, “Yeah, those little bastards sure do like to chip away at the shields as if they had targets on them. But are you sure you don’t want to assign archer squads again? They really helped keep the waves light enough to deal with at walk. I don’t think spears are going to be much help comparatively.”
The captain shrugged a little as if he were conceding the point. “Having some archers thin out the kobalds worked well while we were making our way around the main assault force, but we’re going to be facing them head-on now. We need to keep our lines tight and spears are reusable as we push our way forward. Based on how far our forces have pushed them back while we were busy in the mountains, we should be able to force them back underground in a day or two,” the captain said, his voice declaring it as if it were obvious.
Sergeant Blackwood grimaced, and replied, “Sure. Just like when you said it would only take a day to make it through the kobalds and get back here. Or when you said that they wouldn’t bother sending siege worms to try and cut us off. Or when…”
Interrupting the sergeant's complaining, Captain Angelton’s steely voice replied, “You’ve made your point. Have everyone who was on archer detail replenish their arrows and see if we can get some more essence bows.”
Smiling widely, Sergeant Blackwood replied, “Yes, Sir. I must say, seeing your forethought and tactical acumen in action is more than a little inspiring.”
Turning to look at the shorter man struggling to keep up with the pace he was keeping, Captain Angleton said, “Sergeant Blackwood….”
The sergeant looked up at him with a smile and asked, “Yes, captain?”
Looking away, Captain Angelton ordered, “Stop talking.”
Thoroughly enjoying getting under his friend, the captain’s skin, the sergeant replied, “Of course, Sir. Right away, Sir. Consider this conversation concluded. Perhaps, when we get back to the troops you’d like to…”
Cutting him off again, the captain barked, “Seargent!”
Coughing into his hand to hide his amusement, the sergeant replied, “Right, Sir. Sorry, Sir. I will endeavor to keep my thoughts to myself.”
They continued walking for a few paces in silence until the sergeant continued, “I would however like to mention that …”
“Sergeant!” the captain shouted, finally getting fed up enough to infuse his presence into the surrounding ether.
Flinching, the sergeant snapped his mouth shut. However, moments later he couldn’t help but crack a smile. After all, now that they were back with the rest of the army, he was enjoying the fact that he was still alive and could resume his favorite pastime. Which of course was cracking his long-time friend’s envious iron-like control.
—--
Nero woke from another confusing series of what he charitably referred to as dreams. They were somewhat like nightmares but didn’t leave him waking in cold sweats or suffering from a restless sleep.
After dragging himself to his shower, he leaned against the wall and let himself enjoy the hot water streaming down his back while mentally reviewing what he’d seen.
Images of kobalds holding some kind of social ceremony with dancing in front of bonfires. Odd cave-like buildings filled with serious-looking kobalds of varying sizes and colors. Meetings and religious ceremonies with smoke-filled cathedrals carved out of mountain stone with stalactites and fire-wreathed chandeliers filling the room with dancing shadows and ominous chanting.
Throughout it all was that pervasive sense of destiny, a communal desire to seek out new territory and take it as their own. The innate need to make everything like their home… to make it correct. There was almost an underlying hatred for anything that was not them, not theirs, not… something.
Shaking off the remnants of his weird dream, he shut off the shower and went to go get dressed. Today called for his combat leathers, as he had some kobalds to kill along with some magic to copy. As he strapped on his boots, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of all the spells he’d hopefully be seeing in action. Between the mages who’d be fighting and the enemy kobald casters, he expected it to end up being a very productive and educational day.
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Thinking of the kobalds, images of last night’s dreams flashed in his head once again. Shaking his head quickly to dismiss them, he thought to himself, ‘Maybe these dreams aren’t just my overactive imagination playing with itself. I should probably talk to someone about this.’
Before that thought could fully take root, the alarm he’d set in hisroom went off again. Looking up at the ceiling in annoyance, he reached out through his link to turn off the reminder to get his ass out of bed and pretend to be the leader everyone thinks he is. ‘These idiots would probably follow a golden retriever into battle if it went out and got itself the title of ‘the most specialist doggo in the kingdom’ somehow,’ he thought to himself sourly.
After leaving his room, he quickly made his way through the Verena estate’s hallways until he arrived at the large living room they’d been using for almost everything lately.
Seeing pretty much everyone already here, he joined them at their tables for breakfast. Considering how early it was, he wasn’t surprised to see the first rays of sunlight making their way through the tall windows looking out into one of the courtyards.
Everyone looked ready, their faces filled with determination and excitement. He didn’t see a single person looking worried, or reluctant to follow him into the arguably idiotic battle he’d agreed to fight. Even Nick seemed to be expecting to come along, as he was dressed in his combat gear. Nero found himself profoundly touched that his friend was willing to come along, but also worried about how Vera would be feeling about him putting himself in danger once again.
After greeting a few of his wackos with ‘good mornings’ and some platitudes like ‘it’s a good day to kill some kobalds’, ‘let’s show them what we’re made of’, etc, he made his way over to what thought could be called the command table.
Nick, Vera, Quincy, Idrius, Cathleen, and surprisingly Rose were all sitting around a hologram, enjoying their breakfast with serious looks on their faces. As he approached, he could hear Cathleen going over how they’d be deployed and how she expected the day to go. Whether or not she was trying to alleviate Vera’s concerns, or just doing some last-minute planning, Nero had no idea.
“Good morning, ladies and gents. Are we excited for the first official mission of The Walker Adventuring Company?” he asked cheerily.
Everyone’s eyes other than Cathleen’s looked up at him in greeting, while she continued to stare at the hologram depicting the battle lines, complete with little icons depicting things Nero couldn’t begin to comprehend.
Academian Quincy was the first to reply, “I for one am excited to once again see combat conditions. It must be almost 25, maybe 30 years since the last time I was out in the wilds. I’m a little surprised at how much I’m looking forward to it actually.”
Nero paused halfway into his seat, his eyes widening as he froze above his chair.
“You mean you plan on fighting with us?” he asked incredulously.
Returning Nero’s stare with a look of offense, he replied, “Of course! I, along with 5 of the evaluators will be coming along to see how you perform in combat conditions. Did you think we’d just sit behind the walls and watch?”
Nero managed to take his seat, setting down his cup of coffee and plate. Coughing into his hand in embarrassment, he replied, “Well, kinda. It’s not as if you’re dressed for it. You’re still wearing that totally not-stupid light on your head. So, I just assumed you were only going to be contributing your moral support to this little expedition.”
With a wave of his hand, Academian Quincy’s clothes transformed into dark gray combat robes with teal highlights. Leather straps crisscrossed under his arms, holding what looked like metal rods under his armpits. He went from looking like a comical human-sized nightlight into a full-blown war wizard.
Staring in awe at the glowing runes running along the edges of the robe, Nero whispered, “You’ve got to show me how the hell you just did that. I didn’t see a single spell or even feel the essence change around you. Holy hell that badass,” he mumbled, almost in a whisper.
The entire table began chuckling, while Nick leaned forward across the table to ask, “Are those actual casting rods? Are those even legal here?”
Nero’s admiration turned to confusion, glancing down at the metal rods poking out from under Academian Quincy’s shoulders.
“Why yes they are. I’m surprised you recognize them. Granted, Dorchester isn’t advanced enough to have them, but I’m more than capable of supplying the essence needed for their operation. As a member of the Royal Academy, I’m perfectly within my rights to carry my personal weapons into combat. Although I won’t be able to make much of a difference in the battle… if threatened, I have the right to defend myself,” the academian replied with a smirk.
Not truly grasping the subtext he was obviously missing, Nero was about to ask for clarification before Cathleen interrupted him.
“If you and the evaluators plan on being present during the fighting, I’ll need you to send me personal profiles of everyone who will be coming along with you. I will not have unknowns within my battle group, Royal Academians or not. Am I understood?” she asked harshly, her tone completely unamused at what appeared to be a last-minute change of plans.
While Scholar Idrius stiffened in her seat, Academian Quincy merely smiled lightly and replied, “Of course Battle Leader. Our blades and magic are yours to command, as much as they can be that is. We’ll still of course have to abide by the relevant accords, but I’m sure you’ll manage to put us to good use.”
Nero frowned, finally realizing what they were talking about. As a high-level mage, Quincy probably wasn’t allowed to help Dorchester with its fight. And his ‘casting rods’ must be illegal items in such a low-level area or something. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t listened to all the explanations Nick and everyone had given him, it was just that he hadn’t expected to see a practical example of Oglivarchian idiocy in action so soon.
While he fully comprehended the reason behind their weird, ‘you must learn to survive on your own’ mentality, he just couldn’t bring himself to agree with it. As far as he was concerned, it was like a parent letting their kid get hit by a truck to teach the other kids why looking both ways before crossing the street was so important. While effective, it was way too brutal for Nero’s delicate sensibilities… which was quite a surprising realization for an asshole like Nero to come to.
Deciding to change the subject, he turned to Nick and asked, “You sure you want to come along? I don’t think you need to put in any more time with the elites after the official battle we had, do you?”
Nick smiled and replied, “No, technically the battle we had on the mountain to disrupt the kobald gate was enough to complete my trial. I’ve already filed my patent of nobility with the Tower of Law,” he said.
Looking to his right, Nick locked eyes with Vera and continued while patting her hand, “Vera and I discussed it last night. While I’m now fully a lord in my own right, what kind of branch lord would I be if I didn’t follow my house head into battle? I won’t be taking my house's forces, but I want to be with you during your first foray as unique fulfilling your purpose.”
Nero couldn’t help but smile at the display of affection his two pseudo-parental figures were showing. He almost burst out in laughter at seeing Vera’s normally calm demeanor soften in the face of Nick’s heartfelt tone.
Cathleen, seemingly oblivious to the conversations going on around her spoke up, “Lord Walker, I believe everyone has finished eating, and is now ready to move out. In truth, most of us were waiting for you to arrive. If we want to get to the front lines for a full day of battle, we’ll have to get going.”
Nero looked over at her, surprised at the sudden seriousness in her tone. Feeling the essence in the room shift, he saw that everyone at the other tables was now looking over at him with intense, hopeful eyes.
Shifting in his seat uncomfortably, he replied, “Of course. I can finish my meal while we head out.”
Picking up his pastry and downing the last of his coffee, he stood up to get going. Pausing, he noticed no one else was getting up. Everyone was still looking at him, and the essence in the room made it very clear that they were all waiting for something… eagerly at that.
Feeling a soft push on his mind from Nick, he opened the connection to hear the man say, “Nero, you have to say a few words. You’re their house head, their leader. They expect a short speech at the very least before they go off and fight for you.”
Nero stood there, his pasty dangling uncomfortably in his hand. ‘Shouldn’t this kind of thing wait until we actually arrive at the battlefield?’ he thought to himself.
Feeling like he was standing in front of his employees for their weekly corporate update, he tried channeling his manager mode.
Straightening up, he ran his eyes across the room, trying to meet everyones eyes at least once. “I know you all joined up with me for various reasons. Whether it was to escape a life of boredom or to push yourselves into new levels with experiences you couldn’t find here in Dorchester, each and every one of you signed up for a life of something ‘more’... a life of adventure. Today we take our first steps together into a wider world. Even though we’ll still be fighting for Dorchester, and on the surface nothing is changing, in reality, everything is. We’re going out to fight for no one but ourselves. We’re going out to test our mettle against enemies that want nothing more than to tear down the walls and remake the world into a landscape of charred rock and barren soil. Our choice to fight is not for some imagined duty, or for the greater good of Oglivarch. We’re going to be fighting because we want to. The intention is everything. So stand up, grab your gear, and follow me into battle… one of OUR choosing, one we fight for OUR reasons. Out there is the adventure we’ve been waiting our entire lives for, and together we will embrace it with both hands. So, follow me, and today will mark our first steps toward the shared destiny we will forge together. Let everyone know that the Walker Adventuring Group is here, and our path will not be determined by anyone but us!” he finished with a shout, holding up his pastry as if it were a sword.
While everyone did stand up and join him, he didn’t exactly get the response he had been hoping for. There was no great cheer or rousing declarations of their eminent victory. Instead, he saw thoughtful looks with an undercurrent of determination.
Through the link he still had open with Nick, he heard, “Well, not exactly Tiberon’s call to victory, but I guess it will do. It was a little self-serving, wasn’t it? Perhaps next time you don’t have to make it so obvious that you’re only doing this because you feel like it. Maybe try and sound a little more… hero-like?”
Mentally sneering, Nero replied, “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. The W.A.C. is all about its members and getting ourselves paid while fighting interesting monsters and experiencing crazy fantasy shit that we can brag about to whoever will listen. We’re in it for the LOL’s Nick… we’re in it for the LOL’s.”
As the entire room began organizing itself under Cathleen's loud barking orders, Nero heard Nick reply, “While I had hoped your intentions were a little more noble, you having such a ‘unique’ outlook isn’t all that much of a surprise now that I think about it.”
Chuckling, Nero replied, “Holy shit, Nick. You can make puns even with the translation thing going on? You have no idea what this means, do you?”
Meeting Nick’s eyes, Nero couldn’t stop himself from smirking at the confused look on the man’s face.