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0026 - Old Wounds (1)

10 years prior, an outpost near Organum Castle

Lucon, only a bit over 20 years old stood on a wooden lookout and gazed into the distance. He had a gentle smile on his face. He had no beard, and his hair was cut short. As he was admiring the sunset in the distance, he suddenly heard a commotion and men shouting from below, where his troops were stationed. He had only recently been appointed as a commander of four dozen troops, mostly recruits, as a reward for his excellent service.

‘What’s the commotion? Is the scouting party back?’ he frowned.

He stood there proudly when a young soldier, barely a man, came running up to him, his face full of panic. He had been the leader of a group of recruits sent out on the scouting mission.

“Commander! We have been attacked by orcs! They have taken five of my comrades!” He exclaimed as he saluted.

“WHAT?” the young Lucon exclaimed, and his eyes grew round. “About a dozen… they have killed two of us and have taken Titus and Brutus with them! Only I was able to escape.”

“A dozen…” Lucon grabbed the heft of his sword. “That calls for a hunt.” He mumbled as his face grew determined.

‘I can’t let this shame go unpunished. I cannot report such a thing after my recent appointment. No. I need to catch them.’ He decided.

“It is only 12… we will hunt them down and rescue our comrades.” He said, determined to take action right away. He only had a small comparably poorly equipped contingent at his disposal, yet he was set to prove himself worthy of his position.

“You.” He said to the scout. “Ride to the Divisional Commander and request reinforcements.” He ordered and then got a brief description of the place where the ambush had happened. Lucon then brushed past the young scout and hurried down onto the yard where all of his underlings stood at full alert.

‘I need to be a leader now… easy… right?’ he takes a deep breath and then addresses his men in a speech.

“Men! We have just received news that four of our comrades have fallen into the hands of the Bloodhand Tribe! A small group of a dozen orcs has ambushed them and taken our boys as captives. Two of us!”

He shouted and practically roared out the last two words. The yard was so quiet one could hear a pin drop. He smirked.

“BUT WE WILL NOT LET THEM RUN AWAY WITH OUR COMRADES! SADDLE YOUR HORSES COMRADES! WE WILL RESCUE OUR BROTHERS FROM THOSE MONSTERS!” he shouted in a rousing speech and the 40 soldiers around him roared out loud, excitedly. They had barely seen actual combat and were eager to test themselves and rescue their comrades.

Most of them had lost loved ones at the hands of orc attacks. Only a few older soldiers did not cheer. They looked at one another, wordlessly, but then also made way for their horses. Lucon also readied his horse and waited for his unit to gather.

It took them barely 10 minutes to arrive at the spot of the ambush and there were still weapons, blood, and the corpses of 2 of their comrades on the ground. Their heads had been cut off and stuck on 2 spears, their tongues hanging out. Their eyes had been pierced with their own daggers. A gruesome sight. 2 of the younger soldiers couldn’t help but vomit at the sight.

Lucon also felt his stomach turn at the sight, but he had seen worse. What stung him more than the sight itself was, that these were his soldiers. Neither of them was older than 18. They were his responsibility. And now they were dead.

‘These bastards!’ he inwardly screamed and clenched his fists. ‘I’ll kill you all!!!’

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On the outside none of his subordinates could see anything. He maintained a stoic facial expression when he calmly ordered two of his soldiers to take off the heads and bury them along with the corpses. They were some of the weakest soldiers in his unit and he left a group of five at the place of the battle.

“Tracker!” he shouted and one of his soldiers rode forward. He was one of the veterans assigned to his troop.

“Commander.” He came to a standstill next to Lucon.

“You are to make out where the orcs have run off to and you will lead the pursuit.” The commander ordered.

“Commander Lucon. If I may. We should wait for reinforcements, not go ahead alone…” the tracker tried to argue but his superior cut him short.

“There is no time. Just do what I order.” He cooly said. This didn’t leave the tracker a choice.

He had to obey his orders. He also felt fairly confident to hunt the small group down, but he had become careful after all those years.

Five minutes later they were following the footsteps of the orcs, it led over a big field and into a forest.

‘They must be hiding in there…’ Lucon thought and looked into the forest. He turned around to look at his soldiers. Most of them looked determined, but some wavered. He sighed.

“We must go on. Into the forest!” he announced and only after a long, awkward moment of hesitation did the tracker continue into the woods. Barely a few minutes had passed when Lucon saw a fire in the distance. He raised his left hand and signaled to get off the horses and continue on foot.

‘Fighting in this thick forest on horseback would be a big disadvantage…’ he readied his shield and spear, a sword on his waist. The same went for his soldiers. They were still so far in the distance he was sure they wouldn’t be heard.

Lucon and the tracker silently moved forward to inspect the campfire. Around it sat 10 orcs. They were much bulkier than stray orcs. They wore sturdy leather armor that was reinforced with mail in some places. They used spears or massive swords. Right now they were sitting around a fire.

“Commander… those aren’t orc spies. Those are fully-fledged warriors, well-armed. It will cost us if we attack them with only 40 men. We might lose several men… especially since more than half of our forces are recruits fresh out of basic training… I strongly advise you to wait for reinforcements!” the tracker whispered and urged his commander to change his mind.

Yet Lucon could only see the two soldiers lying next to the fire. They were tied up and knocked unconscious. They were 2 young recruits. Boys. Lucon felt his heart beating up into his throat and his hands tightened around his weapons.

“We will attack. As I said earlier. We will surprise them from 2 flanks and encircle them.” Lucon continued.

“But comma-“ he was cut short by a gesture of his superior.

The group of 40 soldiers followed them after a hand sign. Lucon split it into 2 groups. One of the veterans would lead the left group while he would take care of the right. This all happened in sign language and with as little noise as possible they closed in to about 30 meters of distance.

‘One word from me and the fight will begin…’ Lucon thought and suddenly had doubts.

‘I can’t stop now. I need to win this fight.’ He looked at the soldiers behind him and he saw fear on the recruit's faces. The veterans shot him doubtful glances which made him furious.

‘How dare they doubt me! I will show them the greatness of following me into battle!’ Lucon decided and then his group assumed formation. Then one of the soldiers next to him mimicked the sounds of an owl as they resounded through the night.

This was the sign for the groups to commence their attack. They moved forward, over the small slope that led to the campfire. Slowly, until they were only 20 meters away from the orcs, then they charged forwards. On the other side, the second group did the same.

40 soldiers started charging towards the orcs who seemed to only just now realize the situation they were in.

These orcs were all seasoned warriors. They quickly picked up their cleavers and spears and all 10 charged toward one of the groups, trying to reach it before the other group could support them.

These orcs were a head taller than all of the soldiers on the battlefield. They charged towards the other group without fear. The soldiers had assumed a tight formation of shields pointing their spears forward. Their equipment was mere cloth armor while only the veterans had chainmail.

Battle cries resounded before the orcs and humans clashed for the first time. 2 Orcs were immediately skewered on the spears, yet the other eight, four of whom used large cleavers, slashed toward the group of young soldiers. 8 of the young soldiers were immediately thrown back out of the formation by the mighty blow of the cleavers. The orcs let out loud shrieks that were deeper and more powerful than those of stray orcs.

“Foolish humans! Right into our trap!” One of them laughed loudly while impaling a recruit on his spear. Five of the recruits had died only in the first exchange before the second group of soldiers had even arrived to help the first one.