31 The not-immortal Blacksmith - Interlude - The Kid V
49th of Kusha, the month of Harvest,
2109 years since the new gods came.
Three days, has been pushed back a week. We squat in place. When this is over, villagers will probably flock here as we have assembled a "nice" little settlement.
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50th of Kusha
Things are progressing nicely, the general staff will be moving in soon. I will finally be relieved from this duty, and returned to fighting. It can't come too soon.
I wonder what they will think of the goat?
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1st of Anael, First month of Snow.
Departure has been pushed back another week or more, but the needed supplies we will need for our journey haven't reached us. I wonder who is screwing up now? New soldiers are showing up by the Platoon now, and are being introduced to what is called "Max's Way" or, more often, "Heretic's Style". I blame the Demonia ex-pats for the second name.
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2nd of Anael
Aside from payroll being short, things are going well. I am worried that the "Normal" winter will freeze us in at this point. The waiting is starting to kill the moral of the troops. Luckily the "Bard" is still around, and helping. Our normal contingent of camp followers has increased greatly, being joined by some more openly obvious "Ladies of the Night". I'm not so certain that I approve.
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5th of Aneal
The "Night Ladies" have approached me, asking for a building from which to run their brothel. After consulting with my superiors, they have been allowed to select a site and begin construction.
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9th of Anael
Those women can build! It has been three days, and they have a fully built and staffed Bar/Inn/Brothel. Goddess help us all.
The general staff has been witnessed visiting the place already. Whatever.
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11th of Anael
I have received word from the grape vine that several members of the Council of Generals have resigned. I have also finally received a reply from Master Maxwell. I am glad he is well and learning a new trade. I also now have a messaging stone thingy, should I need to ask him anything. It's like a phone, but magic!
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14th of Anael
We have been properly resupplied! We leave in three days. We will be making supply drops every three miles. It will be slow going with the snow starting to fall in earnest. Finally we get to give some payback.
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15th of Anael
More poo has rolled downhill. My cadre of Corporals have been promoted to Sergeants. I hope they like it.
I now command 400 men, consisting of humans, half-bloods, beastmen, and others. The number of 'support staff" is more than double that. When we leave, most of the followers will be left behind.
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17th of Anael
We leave in the morning. Praise the goddess, THE GOAT IS GONE!!!!!
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18th of Anael
The wind is cold as we march into the Demon's Desert, a place of chill and frost. A place that was cursed many, many, millennia ago, when the old gods still roamed the land and offered succor to their followers and children. Something about a war with beings "Beyond the Veil" caused all this, I don't know, I'm not a scholar or priest.
Every 3 miles we stop, place a marker, and leave supplies.
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It has been one day. The cold chills to the bone. If not for the practice from our last march, my troop would be just as frozen as the rest of the army. The cold disease (hypothermia, again) is coming on strong, and frostbite is running rampant. I have offered the Captain our assistance with warming, my mages can manage it.
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The Captain accepted my offer. We will heat the army now.
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19th of Anael
The Mages are being tested. We don't have enough of them to run shifts. At the end of each day they almost fall down from exhaustion, but no one is getting sick. They are getting the best of the food, better than the officers even, and the warmest tents.
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21st of Anael
Three days. Three days, and we are almost there. We have stopped early to rest. Tomorrow we battle the General of the west.
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20th of Anael
"Marax? I think we should invite Hank for dinner. His 'Partner' is out on an overnight scouting assignment." General Grapestein smiled a toothy smile.
"Very good my lord." Marax shared his lords grin, all seven eyes open and shining, "Shall I inform the kitchen? Or will we be dining in the old way?"
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Hank was dressed in his finest clothing. Bright read hose and emerald green tunic, brightly polished belt of steel links around his waist. His foppish hat even had peacock feathers tucked into the band.
He stepped into the throne room and gawked at the decorations; bright cheery ribbons hung from the ceiling, bunting was hung from the walls, the table from the grand banquet hall was set in the middle of the room covered in meat dishes of so many different types that he couldn't name them.
On the center of the table was an ornately decorated silver tray, almost the length of a man, lined with some sort of lettuce like leaves. As he stared in amazement, he heard Marax say, "Ah, the centerpiece has arrived!" Something crashed into the back of his head, and he fell still.
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21st of Anael
"General! The enemy has camped for the evening. They will likely assault us in the morning." Bob said, striding into General Grapestein's throne room, being met by silence. He looked around. The room was empty, no Grapestein, no Marax, no hangers on. Just the oversized table from the banquet hall, covered in the remains of a feast, and many, many puddles of the brownish wine the demons loved. He stepped forward, and into a puddle of wine. Wine that had congealed. Congealed around a finger. A finger that was wearing Hanks wedding band.
Bob shook his head in disgust. "What the hell are they thinking?" he said, before logging out.