Metus
First Post
Flynn looked out the window as the Thornwood Forest passed him by, the train causing nearby animals to scurry about on the forest floor. He glanced over to his new traveling companions: a stocky dark-haired man, probably of Morridane descent, and a rather fine-looking woman, her auburn locks framing her beautiful face. Both of Flynn’s companions were quite sullen, and both were part of the lone wolves contingent like himself. Flynn’s new employer had paid handsomely for access and passage on this secondary line they all rode; their destination was the muddy city of Fellig, and beyond that, the battlefields.
The train kept moving through the forest, the surrounding trees showing off their autumn colors, until it finally reached the end of the line fifty miles east of Fellig. The three companions headed west until the wooden structures of the city greeted their eyes; it was a city of 40,000 yet it looked unremarkable. During the rains it looked downright filthy, the dirt streets turning into a brown soup that splattered over riders and buildings. Nevertheless, this is where the money had led them, in search of a Captain Bartley Shaw.
They found the captain in the Flagonmist Hall, a former festhall that now sported a palisade, hundreds of soldiers, and patrolling warjacks. Flynn approached him.
“We’re from the Band of the Axe,” he said, and at that the captain looked up, dark bags under his eyes and a five o’clock shadow on his face. He gathered the three, putting his arm around Flynn, and walked them to an empty corner of the festhall.
“I’m glad to see you could make it. I’ve already spoken to Mr. Bradner as to the terms of our agreement.” The captain paused as he made a half-hearted attempt of looking over his shoulder, as if the four were conspirators. His breath smelled of whiskey. “I need me a warjack mechanic to find out what those northern bastards have up their sleeves. You also get me an officer, and I’ll make sure to slip you three a little something extra,” the captain added with a wink.
“There’s a tunnel that a platoon of gobbers dug up, one that’ll take you past Khadoran front lines. There’s a small warjack depot just northwest of the exit, about two miles out.” Shaw glanced at the three of them to see if they were truly ready for this, only to be met with neutral expressions from the mercenaries. He stood up, straightening out and taking his arm from Flynn’s shoulder. “Unless there are any questions you have, then get out there and get me a mechanic,” he said, and then turned around and walked back towards the clump of officers he came from.
A fresh-looking private led the three to the entrance. It was dug into a hill, going deeper down, and looked almost like a mineshaft. The shaft was large enough to let Sabina bring her horse with her – the horse had ridden along on another section of the train, accompanying her on the journey northward. As things stood, the horse was her only friend, the only one she felt she could rely on. Sabina was a sorcerer, which was an outright death sentence in some areas of the continent. Mercenaries only valued coin, a mindset that could be thought of as distasteful and met with contempt, but in Sabina’s case it worked in her favor. Heritage, gender, race and status meant nothing in a mercenary’s presence. All that mattered is whether you could pay or you could help get the job done.
The three exited the tunnel in the evening as the sun was setting, casting a brilliant red hue across the sky. By the time they actually reached the depot, it was dusk, light enough to see but evident to all that darkness was quickly coming. Between two stone walls sat a warjack, twenty feet high, and sitting on top of it was a young woman working away with a wrench. A few dozen feet away sat three Khadoran soldiers, obviously part of the Winter Guard, playing cards under a wooden roof supported by four wooden poles. A lantern sat in the middle of the wooden table even though it was not yet necessary.
One of the Winter Guard looked from his cards to the woman atop the warjack. “You almost finished, Katrina?”
“Just worry about your hand,” she said, amused at Dimitri and frustrated by the stubborn warjack. She had taken to calling the warjack Volchenets, Khadoran for “little wolf,” and right now Little Wolf was being rather stubborn. She softly crooned to it, in the hopes that the warjack would give her a break and start working properly again. Meanwhile, off in the shadowy brush overlooking the entire clearing sat three mercenaries, quietly arguing about how to handle the situation.
“If that warjack is operational, we’re screwed,” remarked Flynn as he took in the scene. Corley, the squat Morridane, squatted near the other two, chewing on a nearby twig of grass he had found. “I have a sap. I’ll sneak up to the girl and brain her while you two handle the guards.” Sabina just listened on quietly.
All of them hushed up when they saw a few trees being knocked down, and the sound of something heavy stomping through the woods. Out came a warcaster, his bulky armor glowing and humming loudly enough for the trio to hear it. Following the man was another warjack, this one definitely operational and looking larger and more heavily armed then Little Wolf. The warcaster didn’t stop moving, but waved and called out to the mechanic. “Don’t work yourself to hard, Kat.” She responded with a wink and a wave of her own.
The warcaster and warjack headed off down a road from the clearing, much to the relief of the three mercenaries. They knew that there was not much time to tarry. A plan was agreed upon, with Flynn doing most of the formulizing, Corley adding his two farthings and Sabina still remaining silent. All of them sneaked off into the surrounding woods, Flynn and Sabina getting as close as possible to the card-playing guards and Corley coming up near the warjack, out of view from the mechanic and the soldiers.
With a scream of rage, Flynn burst out of the brush, wielding a longsword in one hand and a pistol in the other. He was on the guards before they knew what was happening. He ran one through with his sword and shot another one in the chest, as the surprised guards still fumbled for their weapons. Sabina let a rock fly from her sling, which flew noiselessly off into the distance.
Meanwhile, Corley moved silently towards the warjack, clambering up one side of the hulking machine. He got up in time to see Katrina launching a flare into the darkening sky.
Dimitri had driven back the crazed fighter who came crashing from the brush, even though his two comrades lay dead at his feet. He quickly knocked the table to its side, getting cover from the area the fighter had retreated to and readying his pistol at the sight of any enemy. He heard Katrina hit the ground, and assumed she might be coming to help. “Run, Katrina,” he screamed out. “Run for your life!”
Katrina landed on her feet, fear causing the adrenaline to course through her veins. She heard Dimitri’s scream and she sprinted away from the warjack, trying desperately to make it down the road from the clearing. Maybe she could reach Pachek who just passed by, maybe she could get some help and they could survive this war.
Corley grinned down at the retreating mechanic, pulling an arrow from his quiver and feeling the tautness of the bowstring. Nearby, from her hiding spot beside a tree, Sabina spotted the running figure heading near her, heading towards the road. She started mumbling some powerful words under her breath.
Bright purple balls of light came flying from the trees, slamming hard into Katrina’s shoulder and sizzling her skin. The mechanic thought the feeling was agony, until she felt the arrow tear through her throat. Her eyes widened as she collapsed to the ground, gurgling and choking on blood, clawing at the arrow stuck halfway through her neck.
“You motherless bastards,” Dimitri cried out, and he ran from his hiding spot towards his injured comrade. He saw the woman walking into the clearing and heard her arcane vocalizations. He even saw the archer atop Little Wolf, readying another arrow. He had no choice though, he had to get Katrina to safety. He had barely reached down to her outstretched hand when he felt a force slam into his back, burning his skin, and then felt something puncture his throat. Dimitri collapsed beside Katrina, choking on his own blood. He lay there feeling panicked and desperate; he knew he was dying and Kat beside him. Three silhouettes soon hovered above him, and he heard a masculine voice speak.
“Get the mechanic ready. Leave the soldier.”
Dimitri wanted to scream out, curse their mothers and their children, but all that he could manage was a bubbling wheeze. The three silhouettes vanished, one of them slinging Katrina over its shoulder.
Flynn had finished stripping the two soldiers of their goods as he joined Corley near the treeline, the scout carrying the young woman who had been magically healed. They both watched as Sabina stood halfway to them, staring off into space. She wandered back to the bleeding soldier and rested a hand on his bloody throat, her hand glowing a soft green. The arrow popped out and the wound sealed up; the soldier didn’t react, merely continuing to stare at the sky. Flynn looked at what was going on in the clearing. “Hurry up. You’re wasting our time.” Sabina stood up and hustled back to the two men, sparing a glance over her shoulder at the soldier still lying on the ground.
By the time the three got back to the tunnel’s exit, it was nighttime. “Clean the blood off her,” Flynn said. “We don’t want the captain to think anything untoward may have happened.” Corley nodded and started brusquely wiping away at the young woman’s former wound. The mechanic still stared off into nothingness, seeming in a state of shock.
The former festhall and now base of operations for the Cygnaran army was bustling when the three entered the building. The Cygnarans had taken the offensive and had met with strong enemy resistance, and things were in a state of disarray. The mercenaries spotted the captain with other officers, looking intently at a map sprawled out before them.
“We have your mechanic,” Flynn said, interrupting the conference. The captain looked up and nodded, quickly herding them into his private office. He sat down in his leather chair and gestured for them to seat the mechanic in the chair across his desk. “What of the officer I asked you to capture,” he said, looking to each of the faces. “That wasn’t happening,” Corley replied, and the captain just grumbled and sighed and looked down at the woman staring wide-eyed, sitting across from him. “So what’s your name, girl?”
The mechanic opened her mouth and a bunch of wheezing noises came out, a desperate look on her face.
The captain’s eyes widened for a second, and then turned into a glare directed at the mercenaries. “Get out of my office,” he said as he reached underneath his desk and brought forth a bottle of whiskey. Corley snorted a laugh. “I was wondering when that would come out.”
“Get out of my office!” The captain’s voice boomed as he looked at the mercenaries, and the three sauntered out. The girl remained seated, quivering as tears ran down her cheeks. The captain looked at her with pity in his eyes, a rare thing for the battle-hardened veteran, as he brought the bottle near his lips. “I’m sorry.”
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That was my group's first mission in the IK; we're on our fifth right now. I'm surprised at how fun it was typing this up, and hopefully you had some fun reading it. If you did, please let me know.
The train kept moving through the forest, the surrounding trees showing off their autumn colors, until it finally reached the end of the line fifty miles east of Fellig. The three companions headed west until the wooden structures of the city greeted their eyes; it was a city of 40,000 yet it looked unremarkable. During the rains it looked downright filthy, the dirt streets turning into a brown soup that splattered over riders and buildings. Nevertheless, this is where the money had led them, in search of a Captain Bartley Shaw.
They found the captain in the Flagonmist Hall, a former festhall that now sported a palisade, hundreds of soldiers, and patrolling warjacks. Flynn approached him.
“We’re from the Band of the Axe,” he said, and at that the captain looked up, dark bags under his eyes and a five o’clock shadow on his face. He gathered the three, putting his arm around Flynn, and walked them to an empty corner of the festhall.
“I’m glad to see you could make it. I’ve already spoken to Mr. Bradner as to the terms of our agreement.” The captain paused as he made a half-hearted attempt of looking over his shoulder, as if the four were conspirators. His breath smelled of whiskey. “I need me a warjack mechanic to find out what those northern bastards have up their sleeves. You also get me an officer, and I’ll make sure to slip you three a little something extra,” the captain added with a wink.
“There’s a tunnel that a platoon of gobbers dug up, one that’ll take you past Khadoran front lines. There’s a small warjack depot just northwest of the exit, about two miles out.” Shaw glanced at the three of them to see if they were truly ready for this, only to be met with neutral expressions from the mercenaries. He stood up, straightening out and taking his arm from Flynn’s shoulder. “Unless there are any questions you have, then get out there and get me a mechanic,” he said, and then turned around and walked back towards the clump of officers he came from.
A fresh-looking private led the three to the entrance. It was dug into a hill, going deeper down, and looked almost like a mineshaft. The shaft was large enough to let Sabina bring her horse with her – the horse had ridden along on another section of the train, accompanying her on the journey northward. As things stood, the horse was her only friend, the only one she felt she could rely on. Sabina was a sorcerer, which was an outright death sentence in some areas of the continent. Mercenaries only valued coin, a mindset that could be thought of as distasteful and met with contempt, but in Sabina’s case it worked in her favor. Heritage, gender, race and status meant nothing in a mercenary’s presence. All that mattered is whether you could pay or you could help get the job done.
The three exited the tunnel in the evening as the sun was setting, casting a brilliant red hue across the sky. By the time they actually reached the depot, it was dusk, light enough to see but evident to all that darkness was quickly coming. Between two stone walls sat a warjack, twenty feet high, and sitting on top of it was a young woman working away with a wrench. A few dozen feet away sat three Khadoran soldiers, obviously part of the Winter Guard, playing cards under a wooden roof supported by four wooden poles. A lantern sat in the middle of the wooden table even though it was not yet necessary.
One of the Winter Guard looked from his cards to the woman atop the warjack. “You almost finished, Katrina?”
“Just worry about your hand,” she said, amused at Dimitri and frustrated by the stubborn warjack. She had taken to calling the warjack Volchenets, Khadoran for “little wolf,” and right now Little Wolf was being rather stubborn. She softly crooned to it, in the hopes that the warjack would give her a break and start working properly again. Meanwhile, off in the shadowy brush overlooking the entire clearing sat three mercenaries, quietly arguing about how to handle the situation.
“If that warjack is operational, we’re screwed,” remarked Flynn as he took in the scene. Corley, the squat Morridane, squatted near the other two, chewing on a nearby twig of grass he had found. “I have a sap. I’ll sneak up to the girl and brain her while you two handle the guards.” Sabina just listened on quietly.
All of them hushed up when they saw a few trees being knocked down, and the sound of something heavy stomping through the woods. Out came a warcaster, his bulky armor glowing and humming loudly enough for the trio to hear it. Following the man was another warjack, this one definitely operational and looking larger and more heavily armed then Little Wolf. The warcaster didn’t stop moving, but waved and called out to the mechanic. “Don’t work yourself to hard, Kat.” She responded with a wink and a wave of her own.
The warcaster and warjack headed off down a road from the clearing, much to the relief of the three mercenaries. They knew that there was not much time to tarry. A plan was agreed upon, with Flynn doing most of the formulizing, Corley adding his two farthings and Sabina still remaining silent. All of them sneaked off into the surrounding woods, Flynn and Sabina getting as close as possible to the card-playing guards and Corley coming up near the warjack, out of view from the mechanic and the soldiers.
With a scream of rage, Flynn burst out of the brush, wielding a longsword in one hand and a pistol in the other. He was on the guards before they knew what was happening. He ran one through with his sword and shot another one in the chest, as the surprised guards still fumbled for their weapons. Sabina let a rock fly from her sling, which flew noiselessly off into the distance.
Meanwhile, Corley moved silently towards the warjack, clambering up one side of the hulking machine. He got up in time to see Katrina launching a flare into the darkening sky.
Dimitri had driven back the crazed fighter who came crashing from the brush, even though his two comrades lay dead at his feet. He quickly knocked the table to its side, getting cover from the area the fighter had retreated to and readying his pistol at the sight of any enemy. He heard Katrina hit the ground, and assumed she might be coming to help. “Run, Katrina,” he screamed out. “Run for your life!”
Katrina landed on her feet, fear causing the adrenaline to course through her veins. She heard Dimitri’s scream and she sprinted away from the warjack, trying desperately to make it down the road from the clearing. Maybe she could reach Pachek who just passed by, maybe she could get some help and they could survive this war.
Corley grinned down at the retreating mechanic, pulling an arrow from his quiver and feeling the tautness of the bowstring. Nearby, from her hiding spot beside a tree, Sabina spotted the running figure heading near her, heading towards the road. She started mumbling some powerful words under her breath.
Bright purple balls of light came flying from the trees, slamming hard into Katrina’s shoulder and sizzling her skin. The mechanic thought the feeling was agony, until she felt the arrow tear through her throat. Her eyes widened as she collapsed to the ground, gurgling and choking on blood, clawing at the arrow stuck halfway through her neck.
“You motherless bastards,” Dimitri cried out, and he ran from his hiding spot towards his injured comrade. He saw the woman walking into the clearing and heard her arcane vocalizations. He even saw the archer atop Little Wolf, readying another arrow. He had no choice though, he had to get Katrina to safety. He had barely reached down to her outstretched hand when he felt a force slam into his back, burning his skin, and then felt something puncture his throat. Dimitri collapsed beside Katrina, choking on his own blood. He lay there feeling panicked and desperate; he knew he was dying and Kat beside him. Three silhouettes soon hovered above him, and he heard a masculine voice speak.
“Get the mechanic ready. Leave the soldier.”
Dimitri wanted to scream out, curse their mothers and their children, but all that he could manage was a bubbling wheeze. The three silhouettes vanished, one of them slinging Katrina over its shoulder.
Flynn had finished stripping the two soldiers of their goods as he joined Corley near the treeline, the scout carrying the young woman who had been magically healed. They both watched as Sabina stood halfway to them, staring off into space. She wandered back to the bleeding soldier and rested a hand on his bloody throat, her hand glowing a soft green. The arrow popped out and the wound sealed up; the soldier didn’t react, merely continuing to stare at the sky. Flynn looked at what was going on in the clearing. “Hurry up. You’re wasting our time.” Sabina stood up and hustled back to the two men, sparing a glance over her shoulder at the soldier still lying on the ground.
By the time the three got back to the tunnel’s exit, it was nighttime. “Clean the blood off her,” Flynn said. “We don’t want the captain to think anything untoward may have happened.” Corley nodded and started brusquely wiping away at the young woman’s former wound. The mechanic still stared off into nothingness, seeming in a state of shock.
The former festhall and now base of operations for the Cygnaran army was bustling when the three entered the building. The Cygnarans had taken the offensive and had met with strong enemy resistance, and things were in a state of disarray. The mercenaries spotted the captain with other officers, looking intently at a map sprawled out before them.
“We have your mechanic,” Flynn said, interrupting the conference. The captain looked up and nodded, quickly herding them into his private office. He sat down in his leather chair and gestured for them to seat the mechanic in the chair across his desk. “What of the officer I asked you to capture,” he said, looking to each of the faces. “That wasn’t happening,” Corley replied, and the captain just grumbled and sighed and looked down at the woman staring wide-eyed, sitting across from him. “So what’s your name, girl?”
The mechanic opened her mouth and a bunch of wheezing noises came out, a desperate look on her face.
The captain’s eyes widened for a second, and then turned into a glare directed at the mercenaries. “Get out of my office,” he said as he reached underneath his desk and brought forth a bottle of whiskey. Corley snorted a laugh. “I was wondering when that would come out.”
“Get out of my office!” The captain’s voice boomed as he looked at the mercenaries, and the three sauntered out. The girl remained seated, quivering as tears ran down her cheeks. The captain looked at her with pity in his eyes, a rare thing for the battle-hardened veteran, as he brought the bottle near his lips. “I’m sorry.”
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That was my group's first mission in the IK; we're on our fifth right now. I'm surprised at how fun it was typing this up, and hopefully you had some fun reading it. If you did, please let me know.
