By the time that the additional men had joined her forces, Elena had grown quite sick of traveling by horseback. It was nothing new, really, and she should have expected that feeling to pop up. Even a day of horseback riding was enough to get to her nowadays, and that was quite something considering her literal years of experience after being summoned to this shithole of a world.
So, by the start second day of travel and after a quick glance at the relatively un-pained faces of her fellow heroes, Elena made the executive decision to spread her joy. That is, to beat the shit out of educate Jim and Carlos in the basics of combat. True, it did slow the convoy of riders down slightly due to Elena forcing the two to dismount to run alongside the horses while fending off her attacks and lectures, but it was easily rationalized in her head as efforts to make them slightly less of a dead weight in battle.
“Come’on Carlos, move those feet of yours!” Elena yelled as she parried another one of Jim’s haymaker blows with her trusty longsword. “You have a spear, fucking use it! You don’t have to wait for my permission to take the pointy bit and thrust it towards me!"
An angry grunt is all that Elena got as a reply, the heavily tanned boy choosing instead to slide towards her left in a flanking attempt. She bit back a feral grin. That cheeky little shit. Bit by bit he was learning, if not a tad slow for her preferences. And as for Jim… he had surprised her at the start of their impromptu sparring session with some rather fluid movements with his fists and feet. After a sneaky jab had caught her cheek during a moment of distraction, Elena had finally managed to drag out part of the story from the middle-aged man. Who knew that an office drone like that guy used to be a delinquent.
Another fist whistled towards her side, the sheer force behind it managing to make even Elena mildly impressed for a second or two, given that none of the three had buffed before the fight started. Still, it was just a hair too slow, something that Elena pressed to her utmost advantage as she twisted her body in a half turn to let the fist slide away into thin air. This allowed her to bat away Carlo's spear tip, questing towards her in what he thought was a sneak attack but was really more of a meh attack. As in it made her consider if it was even worth dodging.
Seriously. If it weren’t for the fact that his magic makes up enough for the gap in his fighting ability, I really would have left him back at Drassington on baby-sitting duty. Hell, I even gave him the easiest fucking weapon in the world. A spear. You can’t mess that up. You just point it in a direction and stab. Long reach, no fancy bladework, not much to parry. Just stab, pull back, and stab again. Man’s been doing it since the dawn of time. I don't think I was ever this dumb.
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Working with idiotic time limits and newbie heroes was such a pain in the ass. She resolved to delegate next time she got stuck with a batch of newbies.
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After hours of work, finally the details and the logistics were completely hammered out. The weapons were gathered, the maps were memorized, and most importantly, his squad of handpicked demons were gathered and ready. Mavier could almost feel it in his bones. The eve of another victory, similar to the one that had allowed for him and his allies to slay those two abominable heroes. Mavier spat at that word. Heroes. Like they even knew what the word meant. He knew the meaning well. To be someone that had the drive to better his people, to annihilate their enemies until the children could stop foraging for scrap metal to be turned into weapons, and instead enjoy their youth. But that day was years away, and before all that could be done, the last of the human heroes needed to fall. Then the two kingdoms could have a talk once more… and if the humans, the elves, the dwarves, and every other living being that flocked under the banners of the enemy did not listen to the demands of the council of elders, well, then, Mavier would end the threat that those dissenters would represent to his people. Permanently.
Until then, however, Mavier instead busied himself by thinking of the future and steeling his own mind against what would be necessary the next day. For, Santet had reported once more, with tidings that the heroes would be upon them before the noon of the morrow. A force of a hundred assorted men, elves, orcs, and dwarves. All led by three heroes, one of them a veteran and two of them being green. It mattered little. Mavier understood that even green heroes posed a threat. However, as long as they followed him like good little sheep in their rage over their destroyed city, the numbers advantage would mean little.
Mavier cast his eyes forwards, gazing across the view that could not be fully seen from the road, that was blocked by trees and stone.
A battlefield, stretching as far as the eye could see. Where he would fight with the Rat King’s blessing to butcher those cowards, like they had butchered his liege. Mavier smirked in spite of his heavy thoughts. Those thoughts were indeed quite similar to the musings he had entertained before the battle at Drassington.
My King, I pray that with the deaths that will spread through the morrow, you find even a bit more peace. Friend Tim, wherever you are, I hope you’ve kicked back on your chair with a snack to enjoy the show.
Mavier hoisted himself to his feet, heading towards the watch posts and shrugging his shoulders as large clumps of rats streamed out of the ground like the tide of the ocean to rest on his shoulders and back like a furry, living cape. All he could do was to wait, and to be the first smiling face that would greet the heroes the next day.