Excerpt From The Legion's Scholarly Manual On Casting—
Now that I have given an overview of the disciplines, I must move on to the core concept of the legion. It is what has allowed us to expand our lands and push the beastkin into the mountain to let the savage creatures fight amongst themselves.
No one can gainsay our castings are mighty. We harness the elements of the world, binding them to our will. When one takes it to the most basic level, we move objects with our minds, objects far heavier than we can move with our bodies, and can throw them farther than we can throw with our arms.
As strong as individuals of us are, they are nothing but individuals. They must sleep, eat, and require rest. When one or more of those needs are not met for an extended amount of time, they are as easy to kill as any other creature.
The Union elevates us into something more significant.
Even the wary amongst us will shrug off wounds in the heat of battle. Our castings become sharper, acting beyond what we would generally be able to perform while requiring less psy.
And best of all, we can send psy to others to use.
While there are practical limitations, such as distance, these can be overcome.
The farther from the origin, the more psy dissipates. Either you need more willpower to add to the cohesion of the casting, or you need to be willing to accept some loss of the transferred psy.
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Kathren's mouth twitched in amusement at the unspoken agreement the two sides of the battle had come two. Long minutes had passed, an eternity in a battle, and still neither side moved to break the trust of the other.
Screams of agony and rage still filled the Middle Fort as they killed each other, but how you died was an altogether different matter.
Who wanted to fall through a hole plummeting a hundred feet to their death? The beastkin might survive the fall, but they would definitely break a limb or two and probably be knocked unconscious. Drowning would be a real possibility.
So no one stepped within two feet of the hole's edge, each side treating it like a wall was blocking their path.
The beastkin tried jumping over the hole to flank the legion lines at first, but a few thrown rocks and spears halting their momentum in the center of the hole, quickly put a stop to that. The screams of blood-curdling terror that abruptly stopped might have also had an impact on the beastkin's choice.
Holding a spear in her dominant hand, Kathren waited. When the time felt right, she thrust her spear forward, hitting a beastkin in the shoulder as his shield was knocked out of the way by a legionary.
The wound further opened up the beastkin to attack as she cut something important, causing his shield to drop. As the shield fell to hang at the beastkin's side, a sword slipped out of the line, slashing open the beastkin's throat.
Shield slamming forward, the man in front of the beastkin, smashed the body into the second rank of their opponents.
The moment was fleeting, but the body impeded the movement of those behind and left those to the sides open.
Seeing the opening, the centurion gave the order to press forward, causing the entire century to act as one.
A surge of psy flooded into the three positioned to exploit the weakness, as they received a little bit from everyone in the makeshift century.
Reinforcing their shields, the three pulled themselves forward as they jumped with all their strength, hiding behind their shields.
The legionary in the center further knocked back those beastkin that were still dealing with the body. At the same time, the two legionaries on the sides wedged themselves into the gap, slashing at the beastkins on the sides of the hole to drive them back as they moved forward, pressing into the second line supporting the point of their wedge.
Hot in their wake, Kathren and those around her pressed forward, adding to the momentum.
As Kathren stepped from the formation's third line into the second line, she hoisted her spear over her shoulder, then threw it at a beastkin who had partially turned to stab one of the leading legionaries in the back.
Her aim was true, and the spear buried half a foot of its length into the beastkin's side. Others in the front line pressing forward also lashed out with an attack, making the beastkin look like a pincushion for a moment as two blades and multiple spears entered the body.
Stepping into the front line of the legion again, Kathren pulled her sword out of its sheath and raised her new shield before moving into the brake in the enemy line. Damnit! Why am I in the fucking front? She thought in annoyance.
Kathren kept moving forward, her eyes looking straight ahead. She ignored the sides and the threat they posed. Those behind her would deal with them and widen the brake in the beastkin line. Or they won't, and I'll die from a stab to the back…
Her goal, and those in front of her, was to plunge as deep into the lines as possible before they ground to a halt.
With her second step into the enemy line, she felt and saw the left side of the arrowhead of their attack be struck in the leg by an attack, causing her to stumble and take a spear to the throat as her shield dropped.
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"Fucking instincts!" Kathren cursed a moment later, leaping forward and sweeping her shield to the side. "Can never trust a man in battle!"
The man that was right behind the tip of the charge suddenly had his full attention on the woman bleeding to death at his feet.
He even started to bend over to try and help her or something, getting a spear in the gut for his efforts. "Fucking idiot!" She hissed.
The bottom of her shield hit his spine, sending his body flying into the feet of three beastkin, knocking them off their feet and forming a pile, before stepping onto the woman's chest and slashing out with her sword at a beastkin flanking the point of the attack.
Moving off the woman gurgling in pain, Kathren blocked a club the Union told her was coming at her side while deflecting another spear thrust with her sword.
Following her blade, she let the edge slide along the wooden shaft until she hit the bitch's wrist, causing her to pull back.
Swinging her shield forward, Kathren smashed the steel-cased corner into the beastkin's jaw, snapping her head back with a spray of blood and teeth.
Now settling into her spot, a step behind and slightly to the left of the lead, Kathren and the two men slashed and stabbed out with their short swords, driving into the beastkin's ranks.
Blood was flung from their swords with every swing, and splattered into the air from the fresh wounds they inflicted, filling the air with the smell and taste of iron.
Her breathing was ragged, and her hand was clenched tight on the slick hilt of her sword. No matter how much or how hard she swung, the blood was running too much and too thick for all of it to be flung off her blade.
Time and again, she blocked and slashed with her shield and sword. One beastkin after the next appeared before her, and she sliced them open or battered them to the sides for those behind her to take care of.
And then, in what felt like one blink of an eye, there were no more beastkin in her path.
Turning around in a half-daze, she found herself standing at the center of a line of legionaries slicing through the sixty or so beastkin still standing.
Kathren watched the conflict while catching her breath. A flood of legionaries surged through and then around the two halves of the beastkin force, enveloping them.
One of the sides was pressing the beastkin backward, finally breaking the unspoken agreement as they drove them over the ledge of the hole in the ground. While the other went through the bloody work of hacking and slashing those pressed up against the inside wall.
The beastkin became more desperate as they saw the end coming, lashing out with wide-sweeping attacks trying to knock back the legionaries and break out of the encirclement. But all it did was offer more openings for the shield wall to take advantage of.
Seconds passed into minutes as the bloody work was done, and as the number required to get the job done decrease, a Centurion barked out, "Form up on me."
Kathren looked over, surprised to find him a few feet from her. She had never seen him before, and with the makeshift cluster fuck they were in, she was somewhat surprised they even had one in the century.
Though she had been following his orders for a while now… Maybe I should have expected to see him soon. She thought to herself.
They had eighty people when they charged the right side of the hole, but now they numbered fifty-four after their losses. The other side of the hole only had thirty-six people to hold in in comparison.
But it was appropriate, as the hole in the ground wasn't centered, making their side over twenty feet wide while the other was ten. They needed more people.
At his command, twenty-five legionaries broke off from the fight, forming up the centurion.
Turning, they looked at the backs of the beastkin pressing their comrades on the other side of the hole.
"On the double," came the centurion's words into their minds, "no shouting until we start fighting. March!"
As quietly as legionaries' carrying fifty pule pounds of equipment and clanking metal could manage, they jogged around the hole in the ground.
Deafening and all-consuming as a battle was, those at the back of a formation still had the time to look around.
As such, none of them were surprised as several beastkin at the back of the group started pulling and shouting at those next to them, trying to get their attention.
Not that a few spots of resistance mattered. Hell, even if they all turned around, it wouldn't change the outcome. Kathren thought with a vicious grin, her face splattered with spots of beastkin blood.
"Charge!" Came the mental command they all were expecting. The dozen or so yards between the two groups disappeared in seconds.
The few spots that had turned to face the new threat to their backs had their weapons batted to the side, while those with their back turned were cut down in a single slash of the blade.
Like a scythe through wheat, Kathren and her comrades tore into the helpless beastkin.
None of them had a chance, as the attack was as unexpected as it was savage.
In what felt like a matter of seconds, but had to be a couple minutes, Kathren was face to face with another legionary, her sword raised for another blow, feet planted on the backs of the dead.
Slowly, she lowered her sword, blinking at her counterpart in mild confusion.
The sweat and blood-covered woman gave Kathren a nod and clapped her on the shoulder as she marched past.
Turning around, Kathren moved to follow the woman, knowing that everyone was forming at the gap in the gate.
Gaze sweeping over the fort as she turned, her eyes caught on the century holding the ruins of the northern gate. They were standing at what had become a wall of piled bodies and bricks, forcing the beastkin to climb over them and face their spears.
On the walls of the Middle Fort, and laying in pools of blood on the inside of the walls, were the bodies of legionaries and flying beastkin. Some of them had their arms wrapped around each other, knives and short spears clenched in their fists and driven into the other's back, making a mockery of a hug.
Even now, dozens of archers on the walls and in the towers were constantly releasing arrows into the air, keeping the circling beastkin back.
Dead filled the fort, and Kathren would be surprised if they still had half of their original numbers, but she could not stop the fierce smile on her face.
They held strong.
Head high, Kathren finished her turn and fell into the line of those marching to the western gate, her eyes widening in surprise as she looked down its length.
A couple hundred beastkin were gathered around the ladder to the bridge. A dozen feet from them, Kathren recognized the body of the beastkin who knocked her on her ass.
His chest had a wound from shoulder to hip, and it looked deep enough to hit his spine. Though shocking to see a being able to knock a hundred people dozens of feet away dead, that was not what surprised Kathren.
The up until this point constant flood of beastkin up the massive ladder fell to a trickle before stopping entirely. She could only see them a moment longer before the beastkin were blocked from view.
A column of smoke blocked out the middle of the bridge and was only expanding.
Her smile taking on a cruel twist, Kathren waited. Either the beastkin would suffocate in the smoke or be cut down by one of their blades.
All she had to do now was wait to find out which they would choose.