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Chapter 18: Game Plan

“Where is everyone?” James asked, breaking the awkward silence between everyone. They were all following the blue-sashed man throughout the deserted town. James could see how some buildings had their doors and windows boarded up.

“The townsfolk are hiding in their homes or have fled to the outer reaches of the island. Our resistance is holed up in the tavern,” the blue-sashed guard explained.

“Resistance?” James blinked. “So you guys are fighting back?” He almost smiled, his excitement already building up. If the town had actually rallied up a resistance, then their chances of winning had increased tremendously.

“Don’t get too excited,” the man responded, almost ashamedly. Before James could ask, his attention was drawn to the building they were approaching. It was the tavern, the same one James had met Seamus in. He still remembered that day when he had stepped in to stop a brawl between the younger man and some drunk asshole.

‘Not really a brawl if it’s all one-sided…’

James stopped for a moment, his focus moving to the courtyard nearby. He stared at what looked like a dark spot on the cobbled ground, drag marks heading to the way out of town. James could feel his chest sting a little at the memory of what had happened, his hand instinctively moving to his chest.

‘This is the place?’ Faust asked.

‘Yeah… this is where I died.’ James nodded almost solemnly.

The experience was eerie, like something out of the twilight zone. James could clearly recall the terrifying nightmare that had foreshadowed it. An inevitable outcome. The hopelessness of fighting back. It was haunting. His thoughts about the event were silenced when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, the shaman’s voice snapping him out of his trance,

“James, let’s keep moving,” Dahlia murmured softly. James could hear a tinge of sympathy in her tone.

“Yeah. Let’s go,” he coughed before forcing himself to look away from the scene. Without acknowledging it further, he and his group walked off to enter the tavern nearby.

The interior of the place wasn’t as James had expected. Only three people were waiting inside, one of which was at the bar, drinking tankard after tankard. James turned to the blue-sashed man, who looked more or less frustrated.

“This… is our resistance,” he revealed, gesturing towards the two men at the nearby table. One of them was a town guard like the first guy. The other guy wore a gray, torn tunic that was not really flattering. He also was drinking, not seeming to care much about what was happening. It all looked disappointing and did nothing to raise their actual chances for survival.

“This is it?” James asked, hoping the rest of the said ‘resistance’ was out elsewhere.

“As I said, most of everyone had either hid or run off to the woods,” the blue-sashed man gestured towards the men, “The guard is Thomas. He and I are probably the last ones defending this town. The rest of the town guard had tried to sneak out on a boat the other night to get reinforcements from any nearby islands. They haven’t returned. The drunk is Jasper; he’s only here because he has nothing to live for. The other drunk is Haggard; he’s not even part of the resistance; he’s only here because the bar is free.” The guardsman placed a hand on his chest. “I’m Felix, the only one here who can properly use a bow.”

James looked at Felix, deciding to return the favor or introductions.

“I’m James. The one next to me is Dahlia, the other one behind her is Seamus, and the tall, scary man is Harald.” It was quick to the point since James didn’t want to waste much time.

Felix nodded, acknowledging the group. “Thank you all for coming to help us fight back, but I’m afraid this tavern is pretty much useless in that regard.”

James sighed, eyeing the table they were all using. It was a map, possibly of the town itself.

‘Maybe this place isn’t all that useless.’

He stepped up to the table, looking down at the map.

“This is the map of Yorktown, right?” James asked. He ran his fingers across the drawn pathways and buildings, a plan slowly forming in his head.

“Yes, we were trying to figure out a way to barricade the town, keep them out,” Thomas explained. The guard even gestured to the twigs blocking the entrances to the town, keeping the pebbles out.

“That’s the wrong way to do it,” James muttered.

“What?” Felix asked, walking up to the table.

“Doing it like this, you expect them to give up, eventually. You don’t know the marauders. They will never quit. What I’m thinking of…” James moved the twigs out of the way, pushing the pebbles into the town.

Felix looked a bit confused. “How is giving them the town gonna keep them away?” He asked.

“Because they’re not gonna leave this town,” James answered, letting his words sink in.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Felix asked in disbelief. “We’re not even close to the amount of manpower…”

“We’re not going to face them head-on,” James pointed out. “Have you ever heard of the term guerilla tactics?”

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Havor slammed his fist onto the table, the loud noise shutting the rest of the men up. They were all beneath the deck, surrounding a table that held their plans for the upcoming raid. Eli gave them the map of the island before he left with Deimos. It was an accurate scry of the island’s layout, including the town on it. Havor took a deep breath, stressed from the immature bastards that were his men. They were quiet now, but soon, they would all be talking and yelling again, so Havor tried to make it quick.

“All right, let’s get back on track again. We will arrive at the harbor, take out any poor bastard who gets in our way, and get to burning.” He pointed to the circled areas of the map. "We will split into three major groups and care for these parts of the town."

“Remember! If you see Seamus Halvorson, try not to kill him! He is important to Deimos and shall be taken prisoner. Everyone else is free to kill. Remember, no survivors besides Halvorson. Does everyone understand?” Havor raised his voice, silencing the couple of idiots who had tried to converse in secret.

“We have already debriefed on what he looks like, but I’ll say it again for the dolts in the back. Seamus has black hair and green eyes. About yay big.” He raised his hand roughly around his own height. “Most noticeably, he has a small birthmark on his forehead. Looks like two half circles with a slash going through them both. You’ll know it when you see it.”

The men murmured their agreements, their heads nodding boredly to the debrief. Havor turned to Helen. “Helen will be in group one. I will be in group two. Group three will be led by Jarkin,” Havor gestured to the taller bandit, who carried around a long ax. Despite his brutal nature, he was the only one Havor actually had respect for. The former bandit leader wore a mixture of gambeson and plate but had no helmet, exposing his clean-shaven face and tied-up hair.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Havor trusted Jarkin would lead his group well enough through the town. He knew full well that the three bandits and raiders in his group were more than enough to get their job done. Havor’s own group comprised three, the same as Helen. With all the town guards resting at the bottom of the ocean, the crew of Frostbite was more than enough for Yorktown.

Havor drilled into their minds what Seamus looked like, what to expect from him, and the best way to take him in alive. They all knew what to do, but they didn’t seem happy about letting a victim live. Havor didn’t care. He only wanted to get Halvorson into custody by the time Deimos returned.

“All right, since everyone is briefed, let’s get geared up. Eli gave us some fireball runes before he and Deimos left.” Havor pulled out a fireball rune as an example. The stone that held the rune was a black obsidian, unlike the white and gray stones other spellcasters and Wizards used. The fireball’s inscription was carved into the stone’s smooth glass face, the glyph glowing a soft red as it contained the spell’s power.

“To use it, just speak the spell’s name out like any other casting. Make sure to put your will into it; otherwise, it won’t cast. Again, only use these on my command. Each rune is a one-time use. We can’t waste these. Do you all understand?” The marauder’s debrief received more murmured agreements from the bandits, most hinting at disappointment at being unable to freely use the runes. Havor didn’t care.

“We’re going to have a lot of burning to do, so let’s hurry,” the marauder said. With that, he turned and headed out with Helen as the men scrambled to get ready.

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There was a deafening silence in the tavern. The only other interruptions were the occasional slamming of tankards by the two drunks at the nearby bar. James was currently watching Felix, who was examining the revised plan proposed earlier.

James had marked on the parchment where they would have to be positioned, following Faust's prediction. While the Centurion had little to no memory of his past, he was still vital as a tactician and a guide to their strategy. The entire plan was almost one-to-one with the one James had seen in Faust’s memory.

Even if the memory showed the Centurion’s side failing and dying, James knew the difference between a clan of knights and soldiers and a small band of marauders. The entire plan had been reworked slightly to accommodate the small numbers he had on his side. Still, he was confident that it would almost certainly work.

“I can see it working… but there are still people in those buildings.” Felix looked at James with a concerned look.

“Then, let’s evacuate them, get those people as far away as possible,” James suggested. The guardsman still seemed unsure.

“You don’t think we’ve tried that already?” Felix nervously rubbed his light-brown goatee as he looked back at the table. “We only got a small portion of the people evacuated today. They’re holding out here in the town hall.” He pointed to the middle of Yorktown, gesturing to the large building.

“They won’t go anywhere else. So if we’re going to go with your plan, then we’ll have to do it by the harbor.” Felix gestured to the western part of the map. “Less of a chance of anyone innocent getting in the way.” The town guard crossed his arms.

“Of course, but we’ll have to act before the marauders reach the harbor.” James was sure that their time was running thin now. The marauders were probably already on their way to Yorktown, ready to burn it down. Felix looked hesitant, almost debating whether to consider the plan. Despite this, James knew they had no better strategy.

“All right,” Felix finally sighed. “Let’s hurry and set up our ambush.” The words struck James in a way he didn’t expect. Instead of relief or reassurance, he felt immense pressure and guilt.

‘He’s trusting the fate of the town onto me, a stranger. How desperate are they?’

James watched as Felix moved to round up the men in the tavern. He gathered almost everyone, leaving behind the man named Haggard. The drunk didn’t even care about the commotion as he drank at the bar.

‘Crisis spawns desperation… desperation spawns irrationality... irrationality leads to death,’ Faust commented.

‘Do you really think the best thing now is to be a dick?’ James shot back, but there was no response from the spirit. James looked over at his party, who had all listened patiently.

‘Their lives are on us. They trust me and you enough to go with our plan. We have to be our best.’

No response. James didn’t push it. He had no time for another argument or talk with the spirit. They had a plan to carry out.

“All right,” he started before realizing his hands were shaking a little. James clenched them, forcing them to be still. Let’s make those marauders regret coming here.”

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The Abomination trudged through the snow and fallen trees, already having tripped over obstacles getting here. It stopped for a moment, trying to remember where it was going.

‘Consume. Kill.’

Were the words that rang out in its head. No… his head. The thing doubled over, its head aching in unbearable pain. It remembered what it was, who it was. His name was Frederick, a mercenary for hire. Some merchant hired him to be some kind of guard on a ship that was going somewhere.

‘Where?’

Was the question the ethereal voice asked Frederick.

‘I… I don’t remember.’

Frederick suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, which made him fall to his knees. He moved to clutch at his head in pain but soon stopped. Frederick trembled as he stared at his left hand and arm, which were unrecognizable under the jagged crystals. They now resembled a crude club, all sides of them jagged and sharp.

“What am I?” Frederick spoke in disgust before feeling the sharp pain in his head again, forcing him to double over.

‘Where were you going?’

The voice demanded, and the other smaller voices agreed in unison. Frederick could feel the thing forcing its way through his mind, flashing his memories before his eyes as it tore through him.

In just a moment, he was suddenly back at his home in Azurvale, back when he was still a young child and playing soldier near his home on the coast. He could hear his mother calling from a distance, her beautiful voice ringing throughout his head. Frederick gritted his teeth as he forced his mind to pull away from his memories, returning him to reality. But the voices didn’t want to stop. They would never let him stop.

Frederick didn’t have time to protest as they forced him into another memory. He was now young again but older than last time. He was on a ship, and his first job was as a crewman for a merchant. Frederick could taste the salt in the breeze, the wet spray of the ocean, as he tightened the knots.

The memory didn’t last long before he was forced into another, this time when he first met the love of his life. They were at a shitty tavern at Vindis, full of life, as criminals and merchants alike drank and gambled. It was a dirty and despicable place, one that spawned only blights. Yet, out of all the scum and gutter trash, there she had been, a shining light in his darkness.

The memory quickly ended, replaced by the face of the very first person Frederick had killed. It was a young kid taken in by the barbarians south of Valenfrost. The young barbarian had been only defending his ship when Frederick’s company raided them and killed everyone. Frederick had killed them without hesitation, his sword plunging into the barbarian’s neck. He had watched in horror as the kid’s eyes turned blank, the life in them fleeting as Frederick pulled his sword out.

The next memory came, with Frederick finding himself back with his love, who held his arm as they sat together, watching the sunset over the black waves of the sea.

The short, sweet memory was ripped away from Frederick, putting him on his first contract as a mercenary. He was staring at the body of the target, an older man who had probably done nothing wrong. But it was far from Frederick’s first kill, and he was numb to it.

The vision changed, and he watched as his love waved to him from her ship, which sailed away back to her home, Azurvale, where he promised to meet her once he was done with his service as a mercenary. Frederick now knew better as he watched the memory become replaced with another, this time the last.

He was now older, years passing since the last memory. He was in a marketplace, watching as Adam talked with that shaman he had a crush on. The place was bustling, just like it had always been. Adam gave the shaman her payment, waving to her as he and Frederick walked to their ship. She had said something to them, waving back.

“Come back to Yorktown next Frost. I’ll be sure to get more of those herbs you like!”

‘Yorktown…’

The voices murmured, letting Frederick back into the real world. They were now happy with what they had gotten. Thanks to the helpful memories they had poured through, they knew where they were going and where to go next. Frederick realized what was happening, a horrifying realization creeping into his mind. The voices were beyond ecstatic, as there was a whole new world they had never noticed before. Now, they had a clear goal in mind.

‘Consume it all.’

The voices rang out, forcing Frederick’s deformed body to move onward towards Yorktown.