The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)

karianna said:
Heh, Dar has a rival for her affections, something tells me he's not going to be diplomatic about it :)

lol, Surrre he is!

Well... diplomatic for Dar that is. Along the lines of: "leave her alone or I'll gut you like a fish"

ya know... something friendly and . . . gentlemanly... for Dar. :)

Loving the buildup to the re-return to RA, I wonder if any "gobos" will be around to help or hinder our heroes?
 

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Chapter 140

A PARTING OF WAYS


The rough storm had passed. As the morning gave way to afternoon, the dense gray cloud cover actually parted to reveal a cool winter sun that shone on the column of riders headed down the coast road from Camar. The blue sky contrasted with the bracing chill in the air, and the lingering signs of the storm, from the mud that covered the legs of the horses, to the frequent fallen branches and uprooted brush that cluttered the road. But the road was still much better than traveling crosscountry, and the riders made very good time.

There were nearly a hundred riders in the column, clad in heavy wool cloaks over their armor and thick winter clothes. The majority were clad in uniforms, either the orange and gold of the Ducal Guard, or the orange and brown of the legions. Talen rode in the van, accompanied by Shay, Pella Dorin, and Baraka Suhn. The last two, killed in the battle against the cornugon that had ruled Camar as the Grand Duke, had been raised by Licinius Varo and Gaius Annochus in the aftermath of that violent and decisive day. Velan Tiros had kept his promise to have the men and women who died in that battle brought back to life, even though the cost had been a fortune in diamonds needed to augment the power of the clerics’ spells. Both had a slightly haunted look to them, perhaps understandable as people who had twice made a journey that almost all mortals made but once.

Further back in the column, Allera rode with Ikarus and Serah. The two healers carried on a quiet conversation as they rode, but the cleric of the Shining Father rarely joined in unless directly spoke to. Snaggletooth occasionally made an appearance, flying overhead or riding on Allera’s saddlebags; Ikarus seemed fascinated by Allera’s friendship with the creature, and once the tiny dragon deigned to land on the male healer’s saddle to accept the gift of a pear. Serah would frequently reach up and grab onto her holy symbol, only to hastily lower her hand when she realized what she was doing. She wore a new shirt of chain links over her tunic, provided from the baron’s armory at Highbluff.

Toward the end of the column, Dar rode with a small contingent of men from the Border Legion. The legionaries were hard-edged men who wore mismatched furs over their rather threadbare uniforms; a traveler might have been forgiven for mistaking them for brigands at first glance. They spoke little amongst themselves, and rode with the surly mein of soldiers riding off to another dirty, unwanted job.

At the very end, last save for the half-dozen riders of the rear guard, rode Varo. No one made an effort to speak to the cleric, nor did he seek out any of the others. Even his horse seemed unsatisfied with its proximity to the priest of Dagos, frequently shying in protest as Varo prodded it after the others down the road.

The group grew wary as the ground to their right became marshy and fetid with the smell of mold and rot, and Talen sent out extra outriders to ward their flank. But nothing stirred out of the Dragonmarsh Lowlands to trouble them.

After a few more hours, they came to a weathered old bridge that spanned a river gorge. The river, swollen by the recent rains, rushed by thirty feet below in a white froth. The bridge was barely wide enough to accommodate a wagon, and its heavy boards creaked as the soldiers of the company dismounted and walked across, but the entire group made it to the far side without incident.

On the far side, Talen gathered his people together with the officers of the military contingent. The soldiers took advantage of the pause to tend to their mounts, and to grab a quick meal.

“All right,” Talen said to the senior officer, a captain named Talemon. “We’ll be taking our leave here. Is there anything else you need, captain?”

“No, sir,” the officer said. “We’ve got decent maps of the region, and should be able to find the old ruins of Southwatch without difficulty. Once there, we’ll start setting up the advance base, and wait for the main force to make its way down from Highbluff.”

Talen nodded. “Send out scouting parties, but don’t divide your strength unduly until Pravos arrives. And don’t go near Rappan Athuk, not without orders.”

“No need to worry about that, sir,” one of the younger lieutenants said. Talemon silenced him with a hard look, then added, “Good luck to you as well, sir. We’ll be at the rendezvous, in case you need help.”

Talen nodded. He hadn’t shared many details of their own mission, and the captain, an experienced officer, hadn’t asked. The knight saluted, and all four officers returned the gesture crisply.

A short distance away, Dar was making his own farewells to his troops. “Right, you lot play nice with the other kids,” he said. He turned to his senior sergeant, the same noncom who had accompanied him to the camp of the Border Legion, and tossed the reins of his horse to him. “I expect you to keep Valdes and the other captains out of trouble, sergeant. Show these city pukes what bordermen can do.”

“Yes, sir!” several of the legionaries replied.

Dar grabbed his pack from the back of the horse, and jerked a thumb at three of his men, who had likewise dismounted and gathered near him. The other fifteen legionaries headed over to join the main force that would be continuing down the road.

The young healer, Ikarus, came over to Talen, who was working out a few last-minute details of supplies and marching order with Shay and Baraka. “Commander?”

“Yes, healer?”

“I’d like to request that I be added to your group, sir.”

Talen looked the young man up and down. “The military contingent’s going to need a healer.”

“With all due respect, sir, you’re going to need all the power you can get, where you’re going.”

Talen shot a loaded glance at Allera, who had handed over her horse to a soldier and came up to join them. “Allera didn’t tell me anything, commander, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that you guys are going to be taking on the cult of Orcus, wherever you are going.”

Allera didn’t say anything, but her will was clear in the look she gave Talen.

The knight finally shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but my orders stand. We’ve spent some time in this region, and those soldiers are going to need your help.”

“It’s not just injuries, Ikarus,” Allera said. “That ruin is going to have to accommodate hundreds of men, for who knows how long, and Pravos is going to need your help in ensuring that sickness doesn’t debilitate his men and women.”

“I understand,” Ikarus said. “Good luck to you, then, commander. Allera.”

“And to you,” Talen said.

Allera walked with Ikarus for part of the way back to the soldiers, who were already starting to prepare to move out again. “That was foolish,” she told him.

“Why? Because I want to use my gifts where they will do the most good?”

“It is going to be incredibly dangerous where we are going, Ike.”

“That isn’t stopping you. Or do you feel that I am not up to the challenge?”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t know.”

He smiled and touched her hand. “I know. Still looking out for me, eh?”

“I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

“We are in full agreement on that score,” he said, with a chuckle.

“Do be careful. Even when the main body of soldiers arrive, your group is going to be far from safe. The enemy has potent and terrible allies, and who knows what they will call upon to throw next at Camar.”

He nodded. “I may not have always done my homework, but I have learned to keep my eyes open.” He dug into his satchel. “Here. I want you to have this.” He presented her with a leather scroll case, which contained a parchment scroll, wound around a slender wand carved with intricate spiral patterns in the dark wood.

Allera examined the scroll and the wand. “This is good work,” she said.

“The wand is fully charged, with a cure moderate wounds spell.”

She slid the scroll back into the case. “I cannot accept these; you will need them...”

“I have another wand, with a few dozen charges left,” he told her. “If I can’t go with you, at least I’ll know that I’m able to help you at least in this way.”

She nodded, and the two healers embraced for a moment, before Ikarus headed back to rejoin to column of soldiers that was about ready to move out.

From a short distance away, Dar watched them, his eyes cold.

The two groups split apart, with Talen’s force taking up their packs and extra gear, while the soldiers gathered up in formation again on the road south. The smaller company, with Shay and Baraka in the lead, set out on foot along the edge of the river gorge, heading west. In addition to the scouts, this group included Talen, Allera and Snaggletooth, Varo, Serah, and Pella. Dar and the three legionaries that he’d selected out of his group brought up the rear of the column.

The three soldiers of the Border Legion were named Bullo, Travius, and Kalend. The first two were warriors through and through, with thick arms and legs, and numerous scars visible wherever bare flesh showed. Bullo favored the greataxe, while Travius fought with a pair of viciously sharp Legion shortswords. Kalend, while only marginally smaller than the first two, was more subtle; while he referred to himself as a “finder”, it was quite obvious what he was in fact; he made no effort to hide the pair of thief-brands burned into his cheeks. All three carried short composite bows in addition to their other weapons.

The terrain to the west of the road quickly grew rough, and within just a few minutes the cavalry column had vanished out of sight behind them. The land seemed as though it had been smashed by a mighty fist from the heavens; gaping crevices and deep cracks frequently blocked their path, the wider of those requiring them to shift their course to go around them. Small ridges and canyons likewise appeared across their path, and they quickly found use for both their climbing gear and the coils of heavy rope that they’d packed. It was clear within an hour that they’d made the right decision in leaving their mounts with the main body of soldiers. Shay kept them on course by roughly aligning their course with the river gorge, although their wandering route often forced them to lose sight of it for hours on end.

They had only covered a few miles when night caught up with them. The rough terrain worked to their advantage in this one instance, and they were able to find a jutting tor with steep sides and a narrow, defensible gap in the summit. With so many experienced veterans in the group, they were able to efficiently set up a very secure camp, and after a hasty meal and establishing double watches they retired for the night.

Dawn came swiftly, and without incident. The air was bracingly cold, their breath forming plumes as the companions worked to prepare the morning meal and break down their camp. But the weather had thankfully held, although an ominous new bank of gray clouds had formed along the eastern horizon.

“If we don’t get to our destination soon, we may have another storm to deal with,” Talen said, looking east.

“We should get there by midday,” Shay said. “Last time, I made it only a few miles before the rapids claimed my boat. We’ll have to go all the way up here; the river is still swollen with the rains, and there’s no way we could navigate the gorge itself. I tried to pay attention to where the underground river came out, and I think I can find the landmarks I noted before.”

“Things may look different from up here than they did from the bottom of the gorge,” Pella said.

Shay shrugged. “If we find ourselves in a swamp, we’ll know we went too far.”

Talen cinched up his pack and slung it across his shoulders. “All right, let’s get moving.”

By the time that the day had fully broken, the morning sun still shouded behind the line of clouds to the east, their trail had shifted back to the edge of the gorge. The gorge had deepened as the surrounding land had risen, and the rushing froth of the river was now at least sixty feet below them, its passage making a dull roar that echoed off the walls of the gorge. The land on the other side of the river was rougher, if anything, than that on their side.

There was something else of note on the far side of the gorge as well.

“Trolls!” Pella warned, although it was doubtful that any of them would have missed the six hulking forms that appeared around a hillock along the edge of the opposite cliff. From the harsh cries from that side, it was clear that the creatures had spotted them as well.
 

Chapter 141

STRANGERS ACROSS A CHASM


Arrows filled the air, and despite the uncertain updraft from the river gorge, several shots from that first volley scored hits. The gorge had widened somewhat from the bridge, but it was still less than a hundred feet across, well within the range of the compact but powerful bows that most of the companions carried.

But the trolls merely plucked the missiles from their leathery hides, and started grabbing stones, hurling them across the chasm at their foes. Most of the heavier rocks fell well short, but a few stones the size of a child’s head landed in the ranks of the Camarians, shattering as they impacted the ground on their side of the gorge. None of them were hit in that initial exchange, but the threat was clear enough to drive them into cover.

Arrows continued to fly across the gorge, but while several of the trolls were starting to sprout arrows from their upper bodies like porcupine spines, none of them went down.

“Focus your fire on one of them!” Pella urged, sighting down the length of a shaft held in her powerful longbow. The archer fired with cool precision, and each of her arrows had found a mark thus far, driving deep into the body of one of the trolls. This one was no different, stabbing into the center of the troll’s forehead. The troll staggered back, injured, but clearly the arrow hadn’t penetrated through its thick skull. “The one on the end!”

“You may as well save your shafts,” Varo said. “They will just regenerate, and we don’t have any fire or acid attacks that can be utilized at range.”

“Gods damned mothercussing sons of bloody bastards!” Travius yelled, grimacing in pain as he fell back, clutching his left leg where one of the hurled rocks had finally found a mark. Allera hurried over to him, pulling him back into a sheltered space behind a boulder before healing his injury.

The troll on the far end that Pella had identified slumped down, staggered by no less than ten arrows jutting from its body, but as it fell, still conscious, it began to pluck out shafts from its body.

“Varo’s right,” Talen said. “This isn’t accomplishing anything. Hold your fire!”

“You’re lucky we can’t get over there, you pricks!” Bullo yelled across the chasm. The trolls shouted back comments that were in all likelihood just as pithy, but they made no move to descend into the raging torrent below. Instead, they headed back into the hills to the west, disappearing quickly from view. The last to depart was the wounded one, still yanking out arrows, leaving a bloody trail behind it.

“Yeah, that’s right, run you bastards!” Travius yelled, adding a shout of pain as Allera adjusted his leg to help her healing knit the broken bone back together.

“If you think they’re done with us, you’re a fool,” Baraka Suhn said, unstringing his bow and putting it back into the case across his back.

“If we’re lucky, we’ll reach our destination before they return,” Talen said. “Shay, Baraka, take us out.”

The companions continued on their way, with more than a few looks back across at the trail where the trolls had disappeared.

It took the rest of the morning, and a few more shifts of direction to navigate around crevices too wide to jump, before they found themselves back at the river gorge. Shay walked ahead to the very edge of the cliff, kneeling at the edge and scanning the canyon in both directions.

Talen came up, removing his helmet to wipe his forehead of sweat. The trek had been particularly difficult for him in his heavy armor, but the knight commander had not complained. That was in stark contrast with Dar, who had offered commentary on the cold wind, the hot sun, the ill fit of his armor (and the parentage of whoever had originally forged it for Gudmund), the rough terrain, various gods, and both the collective and individual members of the cult of Orcus. If nothing else, the other members of the company had been given the opportunity to learn creative new applications of profanity from the soldiers of the Border Legion, who were true craftsmen of the genre.

Talen quickly replaced his helm. Despite his warmth from the hike in armor, the sun had been chased by the storm clouds from the east throughout the morning, and while it still shone high above them for the moment, it seemed pretty clear that the clouds would overtake it before the end of the day.

“Shay?” Talen asked. “How much further?”

Shay had leaned out precariously over the edge of the chasm, peering left, where the river gorge bent slightly to the south. “There,” she said, pointing at an outcrop of stone below. “We’re here.”

“How do we get down?” Serah asked, staying well back from the edge.

“We climb,” Baraka said, lifting a coil of heavy rope from across his shoulders.

It took them a good thirty minutes just to get above the spot that Shay had indicated. The overhang in the gorge was less than a hundred feet away, but between them and it the ground rose up in a stunted ridge, with a crumbling cliff fifteen feet high blocking them. They could have gone inland to look for a cleft or a break that would have allowed them to bypass the barrier, but the scouts warned that the seemingly minor detour might cause them overshoot their destination, forcing them to backtrack. Glancing up at the inclement skies, Talen agreed that it would be better just to tackle the obstacle.

Boosted by Baraka, Shay leapt up the cliff easily enough, and secured their rope to a boulder. The climb was theoretically an easy one, but the rocks of the cliff came away with random ease, and more than one of them had bruised arms and shins by the time they had all made it up. The far side of the rise was a more navigable slope back down to the level they’d been at before, but Serah put a foot on a loose stone and fell hard, spraining her wrist as she slid eight feet to the base of the ridge. Allera quickly moved to help her, and healing magic eased the damage caused by the fall, but the cleric looked chastened.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as Talen and Pella came over to her. “I guess I’m not much of a climber.”

“Don’t worry,” Talen said. “It could have happened to any of us; I’m surprised that we haven’t had more injuries thus far, given the difficulty of the terrain.”

“Besides, better to get the fall out of the way on the eight foot hill, rather than on the sixty foot cliff,” Dar said. The fighter was standing at the edge of the gorge, looking down at their objective below. Bullo came up beside him, and hurled a fat gob of spit out into the chasm. Both men watched it fall into the raging torrent below. If anything, the river seemed more violent here, smashing against the rocks on the side of the gorge.

Kalend came up, and took a look. “Long way down,” he said.

Shay and Baraka were already talking quietly about the best approach to the climb. Talen came over to them. “What do you think?”

Shay turned to him. “It’s a more or less straight shot down. The problem’s not going to be the descent, but what’s at the bottom. There aren’t a lot of flat spaces down there, and everything’s going to be covered in water. Slick, cold, and noisy to boot.”

Talen glanced over the edge. “And the river... you said it’s navigable?”

“For most of its length, yes. At least when I came down, there were banks on the side that could be walked almost all of the way back into the cavern. But at the end, where it emerges from underground and hits the river, it’s almost entirely underwater, pretty rough.”

Talen turned and saw that Varo had made his way down the hill, and was standing a short distance away, giving the cliff edge a small but definite berth. Don’t tell me he’s afraid of heights! Talen thought.

But the cleric merely met his questioning gaze with a small nod. “I am ready, commander.”

“Shay?”

“I’ll go down first, and set up a guide rope along the top of the overhang,” the scout said. “We’ve got plenty of spikes, better to use them, and minimize the chances of someone falling. Baraka can help, he’s got the footing of a mountain ram.”

The ranger nodded, already replacing his gauntlets with tight leather climbing gloves.

The pair worked efficiently in tandem, securing a pair of ropes to some very large boulders, and then tossing the coils out over the chasm. Talen set a few of his people to watch the ridges to the south and west, and then crept up to the edge of the cliff to monitor the climbers.

Shay and Baraka had already reached the overhang, and were affixing the ropes to the stone ledge using pitons. Talen wasn’t quite sure how they would get to the outlet itself without being blasted away by the surging water, but Varo had said he would handle that, and while the knight did not trust the cleric as far as he could throw him, he had to admit that his divine talents were considerable.

He saw Shay look up and wave to him.

“All right, Varo, you’re up.”

The cleric nodded, and went over to the rope. If Talen’s suspicions about Varo’s fears were accurate, the cleric gave no sign at all as he descended on the rope. He was a bit clumsy, but the scouts had rigged everything carefully, and it only took him a few minutes to make it down to the overhang.

“You want me to head down and babysit him?” Dar asked.

“Shay and Baraka can do that,” Talen said. “Let him do whatever he’s going to do, first, and then we’ll head down. I want you to bring up the rear; you’re a good climber, and if there’s trouble while we’re heading down, you can handle it.”

Dar grinned. “The more things change, the more they stay the...”

But before the fighter could finish his thought, he was cut off by a loud cry from Travius, keeping watch on a protruding knot of boulders a short distance to the west. As the legionary lifted his bow, shouting a warning, something hard slammed into his chest, and he toppled over, falling six feet onto his back. The man struggled to get up, but could not.

Allera was already running toward him, even as Talen shouted orders to his people. Dar and Bullo, hefting their weapons, headed toward Travius’s position, beyond which the ground rose again in a rough, uneven slope up to a jagged crest about a bowshot away.

But the enemy that had felled Travius was much closer. As Dar reached the knot of boulders, he saw that there was a culvert that began on its far side, and which cut deep into the opposing ridge. He couldn’t see far into it, as it curved out of view, but what he saw was enough.

The culvert was packed with trolls, who saw him at once, and surged forward to attack.
 

Chapter 142

THE MEN OF THE LEGION


Dar had not chosen the three legionaries by accident.

Following his initial encounter with the former commander of the Border Legion, the bowl-shaped valley of the legion camp had been thrown into chaos. Noncoms had rushed about shouting orders, and common soldiers and officers alike had run about as they hastened in their preparation for departure.

A particular building, half-buried in the hillside overlooking the camp, had seen a particular intensity of foot traffic. Men had come and gone in a steady stream, often leaving with burdens wrapped in sackcloth, or entering with items and leaving without them a few minutes later.

Inside, the place had been crowded with crates, barrels, and other sundries, packed close around the walls. Legionaries came and went, exchanging words with the lean man standing to one side of the place, his iron eyes weighing every detail of the men who entered. The light was weak, cast by a few tallow candles set into niches in the walls, but it had been enough to reveal the twin brands blazed into his cheeks; the mark of a convicted thief.

The branded man had worked quickly. Goods and coins exchanged hands quickly, the men turning and departing as soon as their business had been completed, only to be replaced by another. The thief was assisted by a pair of brawny youths who moved gear out of the containers into the hands of the soldiers, as needed. The coins all vanished into the pockets of the thief, as if by magic.

A tall man whose head and shoulders were masked by a cowled cloak entered, ducking as he passed through the crowded lintel. “All right, move it along, move it along,” the thief said, chivvying the men who moved past the newcomer toward the exit, their business just concluded.

“Kalend?” the newcomer asked, his head still low, although the rafters inside were high enough to provide sufficient clearance.

“Yeah, what you got?” the marked man said. “I’m sorry to rush things, but we’ve got to get moving, I’m liquidating everything at reduced prices. The new colonel...”

He trailed off, as he looked at the newcomer, who had still not straightened to reveal his face. “Ah,” Kalend said. “Welcome, Colonel Dar.”

The man now did stand fully, pulling back his hood. Kalend’s two assistants pulled back in alarm, and those legionaries waiting behind him very suddenly decided that they had to be someplace else, now.

Kalend just looked at his superior officer, his eyes calm. “Is there something I can do for you, colonel?”

Dar reached over and yanked open one of the crates. He took a look inside. “Illegal dealing in legion supplies during a time of war is a capital offense,” he said simply.

The two young soldiers blanched, but Kalend merely nodded. There was a dagger on the small table beside him, but he made no move for it; he reached slowly into his cloak, drawing out a fat purse. He dropped it onto the knife; the purse landed with a fat clink. “You see these marks, colonel,” he said, turning his head slightly to clearly show the brands on his cheeks. “I spent a great deal of time trying to hide them... until I finally realized, one day, that they merely identified what I am.”

Dar regarded him for a long moment. Finally, he gestured to the two soldiers. “Get out of here. Tell Sergeant Callus to get a crew up here, to clear out these supplies.”

The two men let out a pair of audible sighs of relief and exited with great dispatch.

Kalend said nothing, waiting. Dar motioned to the purse. Kalend tossed it over to him. Dar looked at him, and after a moment the thief drew out another purse, which went over as well.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” Dar had said. “I am going to need every single man for what we’re heading into, but I am neither forgetting, nor forgiving.” He extended a finger and pointed to the thief as he pocketed the two purses. “Your life, it belongs to me now.”

Kalend nodded. “Fair enough.”

* * * * *

True to Dar’s initial word, the first lines of soldiers and animals had been moving through the mountains by the time that the sun had disappeared behind the line of peaks to the west, trailing a long stream of auxilaries, pack animals, supply carts, and camp followers. The latter had been forced to hurry to keep up; their new colonel had set a harsh pace, one that had sparked more than a few complaints from the men of the Legion. But after word had spread of how their new commander had handled the reluctance of the old, nobody had offered an official protest.

They had maintained their march until the twilight had deepened almost to full night, setting camp in the foothills already a good distance below the mountain valley. Exhausted even from the half-day’s march, and sensing that even longer days were ahead, the men of the Legion had staked their tents and retired to an exhausted rest.

They had been right about the tenor of the march, and the will of their new commander. The pace was even rougher the next day, and their supplies and support had fallen further behind as they reached the lowlands and really began to eat up the miles. A number of men had fallen out, unable to continue, but every time someone had flagged, it seemed that Dar had been there. He had a horse, but the colonel walked as often as not, and those who faltered had to face their leader’s cold stare. A few had been left behind to catch up with the supply train, but the majority of those who’d had problems rejoined the column, digging deeper into reserves of energy to somehow keep on going.

They had pushed on that day until they came to one of the small, scattered settlements that lay in the shadow of the Galerr Mountains. The place had been barely long enough to even be called a “village” proper, occupied by only a few dozen steaders. The Legion set up camp in a ring around the place. The steaders had protested when Dar had claimed their animals and extra food supplies for provender for his men, but they had been wise enough not to press their complaints too aggressively. Dar had paid with the coin he’d taken from Kalend, which had at least mollified their protests somewhat.

That night, the legion had fallen into another exhausted sleep, but a commotion in the village had disturbed their rest just after midnight. Dar had shown up quickly, a cloak hastily thrown over his muscled form. A light drizzle had begun to fall, as he and several of his officers entered a sagging old barn in the back of the village.

The barn had been occupied by several villagers, including the headman, a grizzled but broad-shouldered man who carried an axe handle as though it was a Legion broadsword. He had been the one who had negotiated with Dar earlier, for the animals and foodstuffs.

Dar had taken in the scene quickly. There was a girl, her hair and dress quite obviously mussed. And one of his men, a muscled hulk clad only in a legion undertunic, flanked by armed soldiers.

“This bastard prick raped my daughter, colonel,” the headman had said.

“She gave it up, right eno—“ the legionary had begun, but was interrupted as Dar lifted a finger.

“Shut. Up.”

Dar had turned to the headman. “We’ll handle this.”

“But my daughter...”

“We’re at war, steader. You will be... compensated... for your loss, but I need to be on the road at dawn.”

The man had not been happy, but he saw the look in Dar’s eyes, and did not challenge him. Taking his daughter and his men with him, he had allowed himself to be escorted from the barn by one of Dar’s officers.

Dar had walked over to the half-naked legionary. “You are out of uniform, soldier.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

“What is your name?”

“Arias Bullo, sir!”

“I have heard your name before, Bullo. Your officers say that you are a fierce fighter.”

“Sir, I like to kick some ass, sir!”

“But apparently, your talents in the fight do not carry over to good decision-making.” Dar stepped closer. “Legionary Bullo, did I, or did I not, give orders that the legion wasn’t to mess with the locals?”

“Sir, as I said, she came to me...”

Dar smashed him hard in the stomach. The legionary was as big as he was, but the blow blasted the air out of his lungs, and he fell to the ground. “I don’t give a crap about some peasant wench, soldier. Did I, or did I not, give orders not to mess with the villagers?”

The soldier managed to look up, but wasn’t able to respond.

“Pick him up,” Dar had said to the other soldiers. He turned to leave, but shot a look over at his officers. “Give him fifty stripes in the morning, in the middle of the village.” He started toward the doorway of the barn, but paused.

“I am going to need every man for what’s coming,” he said, looking at Bullo, but his words were meant for all of them. “We are heading into some serious crap, mark me. I need to know I can count on the men who have my back.”

Bullo had been helped up by the soldiers flanking him, but now he shrugged them off. “Sir, yes sir!” he rasped.

Dar nodded, and left.

* * * * *

The weather had turned nasty. Gusts of wind caused the walls of the tent to flap madly, and the flames of the two lamps flickered fitfully, casting everything inside into shadow.

Dar looked at the man that had been brought before him. The soldier was covered in blood and mud, and he looked as though he’d been trampled in a stampede. He had been healed, but he still bore the marks of his wounds, his face and bare arms scarred with acid burns. A faint trickle of blood trickled down his face from a gash over his left eye.

“Legionary, I most assuredly do not need this crap right now,” Dar said.

The injured man did not respond.

Dar looked him over. The man had to be in pain from his wounds, but he did not quiver under the scrutiny.

“You’re a fighter, Travius, and I’m going to need every fighter I can get for what’s coming,” Dar said. “But this is a legion, soldier, not a mob. I don’t want a man at my back who will not follow orders.”

Something flickered in the man’s eyes, but he remained silent.

Dar glanced over at his senior sergeant, a scarred man by the name of Callus. He had already heard the legionary’s story from him before Travius had been brought in. “Jovran was already dead. All you managed to accomplish by your reckless charge was to jeopardize your own life, and the lives of your squadmates.”

At that the injured man finally spoke. “I had to try to save him, colonel.”

Dar rose from his camp chair. He turned and walked across the interior of the small command tent. “It’s true then, what they’ve said about the two of you? Or are you going to deny it?”

Travius looked up at him. “I won’t deny his memory, not now, not ever, colonel.”

Dar nodded to himself, and continued pacing across the limited interior of the tent. “Personally, I don’t give a crap who or what you stick it in, soldier.” He sat back down. “But you disobeyed a direct order from your superior, in a combat situation. Never mind that you killed those two ankhegs by yourself,” he added in a quiet undertone, almost to himself.

Travius did not respond.

“What am I supposed to do with you, Travius? Captain Valdes has made it clear that he doesn’t want you back in his century.”

“Because of what I am.”

Dar smashed his fist down on his folding camp table, nearly unbalancing it. “No, damn it, because you defied his orders!” But the colonel frowned; he was too much a veteran of the camp life to deny that the man’s words rang of truth. Prejudice, in this instance, could be lethal in some cases.

“As I said, Travius, I can’t afford to lose a single man. Starting now, you’re in my century. But let me be clear. We’re marching into war, here. I don’t want to hear a fricking peep out of your sergeant regarding you, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ten lashes,” Dar said to Callus. “Put him in Durvan’s squad, it’s understrength. And have Callipetes look at those burns.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

As the sergeant escorted the Legionary out of the tent, Dar sat quietly, a contemplative frown on his face. “Disobeying orders,” he muttered. He looked around the interior of his tent, his gaze finally settling on Valor, the sword lying in its scabbard atop his cot.

He was tired, and they had a long march ahead again tomorrow, but he sat there and looked at it for a long time.
 



Ghostknight said:
Ahh- caught up after my week out. Gotta love border soldiers- ethically questionable, but good fighters one hopes...

Well, at least where this Travius is concerned, he's more than just good. Two Ankhegs? Crap that's pretty rough for a soldier of the line...

Loving the background stuff LB, good to see how Dar shaped his Legion, and some of how being in command has shaped him.
 


Leinart said:
so what happened with galen and medelia. Did they get resurected?

They were not. As we'll see later, this will lead to some tension between Talen and Varo.

Bullo and Travius are fifth level fighters; Kalend is a fifth level rogue. I don't have them fully statted out but their specialties should become clear in the course of the story.

* * * * *

Chapter 143

FLASH FLOOD


“Hold my flank!” Dar ordered Bullo, taking up position to meet the first of the onrushing trolls. The monster lashed out at him with a long arm, smashing its claw hard into the fighter’s armored shoulder. Dar merely grunted and stepped in under its reach, sweeping Valor two-handed across its belly. The troll’s guts erupted out of the vicious wound, but it kept fighting, sweeping both arms around the fighter while it lowered its head to seize his head in its jaws.

Dar’s left was protected by the mound of boulders, but another troll came around to his right, looking to surge past. Bullo was there, and he met the troll’s rush with an overhanded chop of his greataxe. The blow hit with enough force to bury the weapon’s huge blade a foot deep into its shoulder, but the troll kept on coming, smashing the fighter back with a powerful sweep of its claws.

More trolls came charging around the far side of the boulders, toward where Allera was desperately trying to heal the stricken Travius. But even as the monsters turned the flank, more defenders were rushing into the breach. The first troll rounded the obstacle to take an arrow deep into its chest. Roaring in fury at Pella, who calmly fit a second missile to her string, the troll had to content more immediately with Talen, whose burning sword immediately caught its attention. Its longer reach let it slam the onrushing foe before the flames could get to it, but Talen had expected that, and he deflected the tearing claws with his upraised shield. Beatus Incendia flashed, and the troll screamed as it staggered back. It left behind its left arm, down to the elbow, smoking on the ground where it had fallen.

Thus far the defenders had held up against the rush, but trolls continued to pour out of the culvert in a violent surge. The charge was disrupted somewhat as a swarm of rats suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the tight confines of the culvert, biting as they crawled over the lower bodies of several trolls. Their attacks didn’t seriously injure the trolls, but two paused to claw the little vermin off of them, temporarily blocking their peers lined up deeper in the culvert.

But the diversion gave the Camarians only a brief respite, and those trolls already engaged were doing a lot of damage. Dar withstood his foe’s full attack, narrowly avoiding a grasping claw as it sought to rend him apart. He countered with a potent assault of his own, but while his first blow bit deeply into the troll’s body, adding a second devastating wound to its tally, he overextended himself on his follow-up, slipping on the troll’s slick entrails and staggering hard to the ground. He was only barely able to keep his grip on Valor, but felt an explosion of pain in his back as the troll smashed both its claws down hard into his body.

A few feet away, Bullo was also in trouble. The fighter held his ground as the troll hit him, bringing his axe up into an arc that smashed in one side of its jaw. A more intelligent adversary might have withdrawn to regenerate from the nasty wound, but the battle-mad troll only intensified its attacks, seizing the legionary with both claws, its yellow nails digging deep into his body through his armor. Bullo screamed in pain, but fought on, tearing his arms free to lift his axe up again.

Talen’s foe did fall back a step, wary now of the deadliness of this foe, but its confidence returned as a pair of its fellows swarmed around the boulders to join it. All three trolls rushed forward to flank him. One broke off as an arrow sank to the feathers in its side, aborting its attack on the knight to deal with the archer twenty paces away. It rushed past a rock that barely came up to its knee, only to stagger as the nimble form of Kalend appeared from behind it, hacking the troll’s knee from behind with his shortsword. The sharp blade bit deep into the troll’s joint, and in a fury it turned on him, taking another arrow in the back as it attacked the retreating rogue.

Dar roared as he staggered to his feet, taking yet another hit and shrugging it off as he drove Valor up through the troll’s jaw into its brain. The creature fell backward in a heap, although its wounds were already beginning to slowly knit shut.

Looking over its body, Dar saw another four trolls, still clawing rats off their legs, emerge from the culvert. The lead one pointed at him.

“Nothing’s ever easy,” the fighter said, spitting a gob of blood to clear his mouth.

“Stand strong,” Allera said, touching him, easing his wounds with a powerful flow of positive healing energy. The healer drew back into cover as Dar met the troll charge, dodging under a swiping claw and taking the troll’s leg off at the knee with a devastating power attack. The troll went down, but two others leapt over it onto him, and the fighter was quickly engulfed in a desperate struggle just to stay on his feet. The last simply stood there, dazed; it had heard a flutter of wings in front of it, but before it could act, a warm feeling had suddenly spread through its body, sweeping away its battle-lust. While the battle raged on, the troll wandered off, realizing that nature had colors and shapes it had never truly seen before.

Travius, healed by Allera, came to Bullo’s aid, slashing at the troll’s flank with his twin swords. The fighter was still struggling, although he could not get much clearance to use his axe effectively with the troll still holding onto him.

On the opposite side of the boulder mound, Talen stood against two trolls. With his back to the rock, and Beatus Incendia in his hand, he had thus far held his own. He smote the one he had already wounded with his holy sword, the troll’s flesh sizzling as the burning weapon bit deep into its flesh. The troll staggered backwards and collapsed, but its companion leapt at Talen, seizing his sword arm with its claws, smashing the limb back into the rock in an effort to disarm him. Talen held onto the sword, although he could not move at all, not with the troll holding onto him with its incredible strength.

Kalend was flung backward, blood gushing from the deep gashes along the side of his jaw where the troll had struck him. The troll started forwad to finish the rogue, but was distracted again by another arrow that sank into its back. Reaching down, the troll seized up a boulder almost as large as Kalend. Grunting with exertion, the troll spun and flung the boulder straight at Pella. The archer nimbly leapt aside, but the missile still clipped her hip, spinning her around from the force of the impact. Her jaw tightened in pain, but she calmly reached for another arrow as the troll roared and charged toward her.

But before it reached her, it caught a blast of searing light square in the center of its face. Serah had not been idly hiding during the battle; her prayer had bolstered her companions, and now her magic staggered the troll, which finally fell as a final arrow buried itself deep in its chest.

Serah looked fearfully down at its body; the troll had gotten within ten feet of them before they’d dropped it.

“It won’t stay down long,” Kalend said, staggering forward, unscrewing a flask in his hands as blood continued to pour down his face.

Dar was learning the same thing, as he continued to hack at his foes. He was inflicting incredible damage with Valor, the axiomatic blade flaring with power as it opened terrible wounds in the bodies of the chaotic trolls. One tried to grab him and drag him into its body, only to have half its hand sheared off. But there were just too many of the trolls, and while the flood coming out of the culvert had finally stopped, there were at least three of the creatures still standing within reach, while those on the ground continued to regenerate.

Allera cast a mass cure moderate wounds spell, bolstering them all, pouring life-giving positive energy into their battered bodies. The spell saved Bullo’s life, although the troll continued to rend him, inflicting new damage even as the spell closed his old wounds. Travius continued to hack at it, but the troll was clearly not going to release its victim until it was dead.

Allera started toward them, hoping somehow to help, but she was brought up as a cold, clammy claw locked onto her leg. Looking down, she saw a troll, the first one that Dar had taken down. The monster was grievously wounded, but even as she watched the terrible wound at the bottom of its jaw stopped draining black fluid, and strength flowed back into its limbs as it dragged her down into its deadly grasp.

The healer screamed, as she tried unsuccessfully to break free. Dar spun around at the sound, but before he could rush to Allera’s aid, one of the trolls fighting him leapt onto his back, bearing him to the ground, its jaws snapping down hard on the fighter’s neck from behind.
 
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"anarchic blade flaring with power as it opened terrible wounds in the bodies of the chaotic trolls"

Shouldn't that be "...axiomatic blade..."

Great update man! Digging the cliffhangers!
 

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