Highlander of the Old Ways, Chosen of the Wandering Druid, Scotland
The Highlander stood atop the resurrected ramparts of the Bar Hill Roman Fort staring out past the cities of Cumbernauld and Chryston. Several miles beyond these cities the forces of War massed along the M8 highway, stretching into Glasgow. The city, having already fallen, cast a glowing orange light against the chill night sky. War’s forces were only halted by the hastily rebuilt Antonin Wall.
The Wall, which was rebuilt by a clan of gray skinned gremlin refugees, now stretched from The Kelpies at the mouth of the River Forth on the east coast, all the way to the north bank of the River Clyde in the center of Glasgow, following that river to its mouth in the West. Building the Wall was only the first measure in halting War’s advance.
When he finally landed in Skye, it was in a sad state, facing constant attacks from the roaming packs of Wulver that had managed to settle in the countryside. Somehow he managed to rally the people there and push back the vile beasts, eventually returning to take control of the poorly run city by way of a duel to the death. He then sent out emissaries into the surrounding countryside to make contact with the other surviving cities. After a month he’d formed a federation of over a dozen cities and settlements, complete with trade and mutual defense agreements.
Soon he heard of an army forming in England, sweeping up from London and Birmingham, he sent scouts to investigate. He waited a week for their return, when they did not, he took a group to see what happened to them himself. His party came upon Darlington as the forces of War rolled over the city, razing it to the ground, War himself rode at the head of an army of seemingly rabid men and women.
No quarter or mercy was given, only death by blade, bullet, or magic. Man, woman, and child; none were spared if they didn’t accept the first offer of surrender. The Highlander shadowed them for several days as the army rolled over every city and settlement along the A66. Only a small handful of cities relented to their demands. Afterwards, every man and woman of majority age was pressed into service with War’s army.
Having seen that army grow by several thousand bodies, he turned back at best speed to rally the Scottish Federation to face the threat. His party scattered through the countryside, a dozen Paul Revere’s echoing through the streets that the ‘British are coming!’. The irony of the act, an elusive memory from a past life, caused him to quirk a rare smile.
It was during this flight back to his bastion outside of Skye that he stumbled upon the little gremlin refugees while they camped by a country lake with no idea which way to go. When he found out they had a knack for structural engineering, a plan formed in his mind, born from another random memory. In return for Sanctuary, the Gremlins would build him a wall the likes of which no being could tear down. All he needed to do was get the manpower in place to defend it.
The wall they built was a thing of absolute legend. It stood nearly thirty meters at its tallest point, and another thirty deep, the top tapered down to half that. The material was an alloy of several different metals and rocks, a thing he didn’t know was even possible, hardened, then further strengthened by mana. The end result was a gleaming white edifice that many in the gathered army were referring to as the White Marble Wall.
A dozen large bastions extended out from the Wall at key points every dozen or so kilometers, while smaller fortifications and rally points were placed every kilometer covering every square millimeter of terrain in front of them with potential fire from cannon’s, machine guns, and rifles of every variety, caliber, and inclination. Even trebuchet that lobbed magically infused balls of rock were present. Additionally more modern or exotic artillery was housed in specially reinforced forts behind the wall to rain indirect fire on their enemy.
Wide gates were set in the largest bastions, allowing his army to sally forth and face their enemy when the opportunity presented itself. His army consisted of everything from modern riflemen sporting common rifles to ones of exotic alien design, to archaic bowmen that fired enchanted arrows that could penetrate modern tank armor. Challenger 1 MBT’s as well as some older Chieftain models were found in a seemingly abandoned armory and quickly pressed into service to add some highly mobile firepower. Though the bulk of his mobile forces consisted of horsemen from one of the other city-states he allied with.
Additionally, his army boasted some of the only druids in the land. They were currently congregated around hastily erected henges where they would form linking circles to combine their power and call on the wrathful forces of mother nature. Already they had littered the land in front of the Wall with unassuming looking seeds that they could command to sprout at will, releasing a deadly natural neurotoxin in the air that could paralyze and suffocate the lower leveled ranks of the enemy. Add to that the ability to call up massive fields of grasping vines meant War’s forces would not have an easy time of advancing on the Wall.
War had pressed his defenses several times, each time taking considerable losses in the process. Somehow, his armies just kept growing while the Highlander’s kept shrinking. It was infuriating to say the least, though not so much as the sudden lull in battle. He suspected War was attempting to find a way around the Wall, a river crossing left unguarded or an amphibious landing across the bay on either coast. Though the patrols he’d tasked along those shorelines had reported few ineffective attempts in doing so.
“Bloody bastard, what ye think he’s doing?” Donal Sanderson, one of his unit commanders, asked as he walked up on him.
The dark haired man carried a highly modified L86 slung over his shoulder, enough self loading magazines strapped to his chest to take on an army by himself. He was older than the Highlander and despite the Systems effect on everyone’s appearance, the man looked to be nearing his mid fifties. A shock of gray-white hair streaked the right side of his head, from beard to brow. The Highlander spared the man a warm smile.
“I think he’s bringing every damn thing he has up before making one overwhelming push.”
“Ain’t he kinda already done that several times and failed, boss?”
The Highlander considered the man’s words for a moment then shook his head with confidence, “Nah, those were just a test. He knows he has the advantage in numbers if he brings everything he has. The druids are powerful at slowing his advances, but if he sends enough fodder in, well.”
“We blow our load with nothing but the lead in our guns to slow them down?”
“Exactly. Does the artillery have the range?”
A young man with piercing blue eyes and light sandy colored hair walked up to join them. He wore a mishmash of armor he’d earned in various dungeons, though was only armed with a simple looking pistol and a few daggers for back up.
“Aye, we’re ready to flatten the city when you give the order. Even got them fancy new mana-infused high explosive plasma rounds.”
“Good man, Jace. Start the bombardment. Get the other detachment to begin firing on Edinburgh.” Jace Donnager saluted smartly and stepped to the side to begin giving orders to his detachments, one of which was stationed across the North Sea Bay, north of Edinburgh where another major contingent of War’s forces was gathering. The plan they’d settled on would be to force War to attack with what he had, rather than waiting for him to fully gather his forces. They would basically bomb the hell out of his flanks, which were conveniently located in Glasgow and Edinburgh, leaving him a much narrower avenue of attack.
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“Are you still going to face him directly? One on one?” Donal asked, a twinge of doubt present in his eyes.
The Highlander reflexively reached for his blade, then consciously relaxed, “I am. Every fiber of my being is screaming that’s how we end this. I don’t know how I know it, but I know if he can be defeated directly, his army will collapse.”
“And you really don’ want us with ye’? Fighting at yer side?” Sonja, his regular magical damage dealer for diving dungeons, asked from his left. She fixed him with a concerned glare, then turned her attention to the ‘whump whump’ sounds of the artillery guns firing from behind the fort.
“Ye will be there, just not when I go out to meet War on the field. Ye all will. I’ll be relying on you to keep the damnable being honest. My AI and I have discussed this in depth; there will be no Challenge of Destiny here. This being is a Challenge for all humanity, it jes’ so happens we be the humans that mus’ face ‘im.”
As he spoke, the first of the artillery rounds fired began landing in the distance causing yellow-green explosions to silhouette the cities they were pummeling, as well as the mass of bodies waiting to storm the Wall. A sound like thunder reached their ears a few moments later from their left and right where the artillery was targeted, behind them another series of ‘whumps’ clashed with the increasing tempo of distant explosions.
The Highlanders sharp vision locked on a silhouetted figure in the distance that appeared to be staring directly at him. Another round exploded further away casting a wan light across the battlefield, better highlighting the figure which the Highlander could now see sat atop a completely black stallion that reared up as if it knew it was being watched. The individual on its back cast a rather nondescript silhouette, seemingly clad in a hooded black ensemble, only an ornately detailed scabbard with sword in place hanging from his hip.
He turned his head towards the Highlander as another series of artillery rounds landed with a flash behind him, then drew his polished sword. Pointing it directly at the Highlander where he stood on his bastion, the light of the exploding rounds reflected across the highly polished blade. In that reflection, he thought he glimpsed a yellow toothed smile. The dark horizon shifted. The Highlander focused on the movement and scowled.
“Dear God!” Sonja gasped beside him. Donal just shifted uncomfortably.
“It’s time. Let the cavalry and the armor commanders know we’re taking the field now.”
Sonja looked at him incredulously, “We’re headed into that!?”
The Highlander grasped the hilt of his claymore hanging on his back and looked over his shoulder with a sad look on his face, “I am. I won’t make you go with me. But I am going to face that man and kill him.”
Without looking, he drew the massive sword and leapt off the wall, breaking into a running charge as he landed. Donal watched him run headlong into the seething mass of distant bodies for just a moment before shouldering his machine gun.
“C’mon girl, we aren’t gonna live forever. Let’s give the man our support, even if it’s our last.” He didn’t wait for her response as he too jumped off the edge following close behind the Highlander.
After a moment of indecision, Sonja motioned for the team to follow and they all hit the ground running to catch up to the Highlander. They did so a mile from the forward bastion, where the Highlander was already engaged with a dozen men or women. His blade flashed in the darkness, wet with the blood of his enemies. Donal raised his rifle to his shoulder, then lowered it as the Highlander’s blade cleaved the last man’s head from his neck.
“I’m glad to have you guys with me, thank you.” He commented as he wiped the blood off his blade onto the body of one of the fallen. “He’s ahead of us and closing. We must hurry.”
“Boss, shouldna’ we wait for the armor an’ cavalry t’ support us?”
The Highlander looked to the side with his massive sword still gripped in his off hand, “We should, but- something is driving me forward. I mus’ reach War before the sun rises.”
They looked at each other uneasily for a long moment before Sonja, the most skeptical of their group, stepped up and decided for them, “Aw c’mon, it’s now or later. We’re all gonna’ die if we don’ git this done”
The group pressed onward, when the Highlander didn’t follow immediately, Sonja stopped next to him, “Thank you.”
“Don’ thank me yet, if you get us all killed I’ma kick yer arse!” She ran off to catch up with the group and it wasn’t long before the Highlander was back in the lead again as they ate up the distance between them and War on foot.
It had taken them over an hour to travel the five miles to the location where the Highlander had indicated War was waiting for them. Mostly because War wasn’t making it easy, they fought for every mile after the first. Ambushes, full on battle formations, and all manner of low ranked fodder stood in their way, eyes red with supernatural rage. Even children were thrown in their path, fighting until their life blood flowed from their veins to forever stain the field under their feet.
Sonja had always seen the man as fair and compassionate. As they fought their way to some random ancient Roman arena, little more remaining than the foundation blocks, she began to wonder what type of man he truly was before the System. He never once flinched or hesitated to strike down even the young ones that War used as fodder. They had all seen his ruthlessness in battles before, it was that characteristic that had saved their cities and lives. What Sonja didn’t understand that the Highlander did, a distant fleeting memory from a previous life providing the context, was that this was a sinister tactic to test their will and wear them down. He knew that if they didn’t reach War, more people of all ages would die.
The Highlander called them to a halt just outside the arena, “He’s here. Inside.”
Before anyone could respond, a man called out to them from inside, “Come, friends. I’ve been waiting.”
Everyone tensed, but the Highlander just marched around a large stone foundation brick to face War himself, sitting on a wooden log in front of a low banked fire pit at the center of the ancient arena. Standing casually across a far wall were six more figures, armed and ready for battle.
War himself was surprisingly normal looking. A silky black cloak concealed his armor, though the ornate scabbard and sword at his hip was plain to see. He had graying to white hair slicked back to extend to the middle of his neck, a soft white beard clashed with dark olive skin. Warm brown eyes stared back at the Highlander, reflecting the low flames of the fire at his feet.
“Shall we… parley, for a bit? Before we commence with the bloodshed?”
His voice, rich and smooth, somehow managed to cause the hair on the back of his neck to stand up in irritation. The Highlander’s only response was to increase the strength of his already white knuckle grip on his sword.
“No response, boy? Hmmm… well, allow me to start the conversation then.” War sucked in a deep breath through his nose, then released it easily through his mouth before continuing, “I’ve been waiting for one like you. Per the System rules, I have to make this pitch you see, but, I am truly impressed.”
The Highlander cocked his head at War’s words, “And just what pitch is that?”
He smiled a toothy yellow grin back at him, “Why, join me of course, as these fine beings behind me have. You’re not the first to try and face me, though you have definitely surprised me. There’s a fire in you unlike any I’ve ever seen before.”
Everyone on the Highlander’s side eyed the people on War’s side. They all nodded as if making introductions with new friends. They clearly expected the Highlander to take War up on his offer and viewed their role here as something merely ceremonial. Concern wasn’t an emotion they had at the moment.
The Highlander didn’t respond again, only moving his eyes over the opposing group, sizing them all up. He calculated their odds of success and found them acceptable. He would not be dealing with this devil today. He relaxed his grip on his sword and adjusted his stance. Donal and the other ranged fighter in the group, having fought alongside the Highlander for some months now immediately noticed his change in posture. They similarly relaxed and began casually milling about towards a pair of heavy, thick boulders that they could use for cover. Sonja herself similarly backed away as War spoke to their leader, attempting to entice him to the dark side, as it were.
“I can even tell you how you got that scar, boy. Even restore the memories of who you were before the System graced your planet.”
The Highlander looked at the ancient man in front of him for a moment longer before finally speaking a single word, “No.”
War looked as if he were about to press the issue, instead he barely drew his sword into position as the Highlander erupted into a flurry of violent overhead strikes from his heavy claymore. The ring of steel against steel echoed off the scattered stone blocks around them. A supernatural glow appeared in War’s eyes as they pressed their swords together in a clash of strength.
“So be it, Highlander! We will fight. You will die. And so will all of your people!”