Micky awoke to bloody cries and thunder like bombardments. Apparently, the enemy sent out a skirmish early in the morning and the defenders chased too far. Now they were pinned down by bombardment from mages in the rear and bombardment from the siege weapons in the front. While the skirmishers heckled them from the sides in a split formation.
Micky jumped out of bed in his gear but nothing else. His ‘equipment’ dangled out, but his training told him to check the situation first and foremost.
He looked out upon the field to see his allies with a noose slowly circling and made a split second decision. He screamed for Prin and the cavalry as well as the light mages, priests and any other turtle that could make a shield.
“I want you to ride out there with everybody that can make a shield and pick up our unfortunate friends, now.” Said Micky.
The priest commander started “But sir, we are [Priest]s we can’t...” Micky cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“Did I stutter? I said out there, on horses. Take some chariots too, as many as we can spare. You will grab those men, you will return, and then you will speak.” Micky said.
His orders were carried out now that there was no back talking him. Of course, the reason why no commander had done something similar was the rule, you didn’t fuck with the healers. While healing wasn’t exactly the requirement Micky had set, most of the support he sent out there also doubled as a healer. Though some of the classes were [Paladon] or other front line varients, that didn’t change much. The healers weren’t supposed to hit the front lines, they were supposed to be in the back lines were they could heal uncontested. At most the [Paladon]s counted as dedicated medics/emt.
Micky didn’t give a shit. They mounted up, shielded up, and were off while he watched. He had the buffers buff them out with as much speed and resilience as they could and they were gone.
The shields worked like a curtain, cutting the spell bombardments of [Rain Fire] and [Firestorm] or [Acid Rain] or the innumerale other strategic class spells they were burning to keep the backside of the defenders on fire.
The cavalry quickly mounted the survivors while the bombardments focused fire and the skirmishers harried, but it was too late. They had more friendly casualties from danger close then casualties inflicted. The cavalry also had orders, and they were not to engage. Strictly pick up. Which was an interesting thing for the cavalry since they were meant as the heavy support.
The cavalry thundered back toward the encampment while the enemy bombardment petered out. Only unlucky shots fired and missed as the cavalry returned to cheers and jeers. Cheers for the timely rescue, and jeers of the enemies… insinuated aim… and other less savory things. Safe to say, most comments were along the lines of starting over learning to aim their male parts.
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Micky stood at the pickup. The [Priest] commander simply said “We’ll have words.” before he walked off.
Micky nodded to him and looked at the group leader of the men he had rescued. The man gave a salute and said, “Sir, you shouldn’t have, sir! You just alienated the healers for my men. Now, there will be more men that won’t be able to survive the coming fight because they may not follow an order in a timely fashion. You should never anger the healer, sir!” Said the man.
Micky looked at him, then looked around him and said “Look at that. It’s the first combat of the first day. If we lost a unit on day one in the first minor skirmish, a unit we could have easily rescued mind you, what do you think that is going to do for the other three million soldiers? The healers will be fine, and they can now use that as an excuse to laze around away from the front. Something they were never going to do in the first place. The fact is, I need every strategic resource I can get. And that means when I tell my healers to do some shit, they do it or die. I won’t have treason in the ranks on day one. By day 15 if they can even move their mouths to say ‘treason’ I will take it pleasantly. Pleasantly knowing that I still haven’t worked them enough.
This is war, people are about to die and we are outnumbered 2 to 1. Now the first skirmish ended up in a wash after the enemy spent much more resources then we have. Do you think strategic spells are cheap? Do you know the alchemical reagents they just wasted? Do you know how long it actually takes for a brown mage to grow stones that big?” Micky added ‘do you know how much bullshit I’m spouting right now?’ To himself but he wasn’t about to out himself now that he was riding the tiger.
Micky looked at the man and said “Now we know, our enemies are shit, our healers deserve a round for taking one for the team and we just pulled up our numbers out of the fire. Today our numbers are already up, because you were just pulled out of the trash, sir. How does that make you feel?”
The man struck heels and saluted. “It makes me angry, sir! It makes me thankful that I can live to die gloriously on the battlefield instead of infamously dying a pointless death, sir!”
“Then go to you centurion and get ready, because we still have a war to die in.” Stated Micky.
“Sir, yes, sir!” Yelled the man. He grabbed his group of heavies and charged off.
Yes, those were heavy infantrymen and not levies. And Micky just pulled a favor from their centurion for rescuing their entire company out of the fire. And it was only the start of day one!
The enemy was now squaring up on the field and Micky figured that he should get into formation as well. He would be joining the healers in the initiation ceremony and he shouldn’t be late. Of course, his healers had already initiated combat, well some of them. Micky mounted up and was joined by his honor guard. An honor guard that was mostly from the cavalry that just rescued the soldiers from the tiger’s mouth. Micky had to say, it was kind of delicious.
The healers marched out in formation, mirroring the enemy non-com. Micky had included the buffers that would not be doing much direct combat in his formation as well as any other non-coms. This also included some interesting personnel like the laborers and smiths. Not all of the centurions did this but Micky figured he knew the feel. He was going to give what he could to his fellows.
The ceremony was uneventful. The rankers took a free hit and drawing blood or showing a bruise was considered a stain on their honor. Prin was the ranker for Micky to take the hit in most cases… Until they realized that orcs have natural bloodlust. When it started leaking out that she was having trouble holding back they switched over to Mira. She was a cute girl in revealing clothes, what could go wrong?
Micky was not looking forward to the enemy healer’s prospects. It was like looking at sheep antagonize their slaughterer.
Micky and co. marched or rode back uneventfully and battle truly commenced. The drums were beaten, the horns played, the bards sung the battle anthem and and all the soldiers were buffed till they were superhuman. When a group of buffers gathered it was not one and done. Each buffer stabilized the other’s. So Micky’s combined with the other to make super battle buffs that would make even himself able to conquer dungeons like a hero.
The soldiers faced each other. Nobody knew who started it. But they ran at each other at speeds normal humans could not catch. Visible shockwaves erupted from the clashes as the two sides struck each other. Jack mostly stayed on the allied side, dodging and weaving to intercept the enemy ranker as he attempted to infiltrate and take out soldiers or commanders, or fellow rankers. Men died, and blood was spilled.
Prin saddled up next to Micky, the cavalry not having anything to do yet, with the initial clash. “This is hell.” She said.
“This is war.” he replied.