by Shawn Muller
“Yeh, she has moved already to the new HQ with her forges,” Max answered when I commented.
Grunting a reply, I quickly ate my supper before leaving for my study where I would have a brief meeting with my lieutenants.
“Right, gents, tomorrow I want us to sit down and discuss the mission. What we did right, what we did wrong and anything we can improve on. Go back and speak to the men and get their input as well. As you know, our new home is done, so we start packing up here tomorrow as well and prepare to move in ASAP. The prince wants us in tip-top shape for some wargames that are coming up in the next few weeks. We have to be well settled in and have a few plans, and surprises for everybody by then. One last thing, well done out there. I think our first mission went pretty well and we can only improve from here.” With that my men were dismissed and I went to bed early in anticipation for a long day to come.
Dawn broke, welcoming us with a clear, warm day as we started off with a light training run before doing weapons training. By breakfast, we were all covered in a light sweat and ready for our debriefing session. While my lieutenants and I were in the debriefing, the sergeants led the rest of the men to start the final packing up of the HQ. By the end of the week we would be out of this one and into our new home.
“Right gents,” I greeted my sub-commanders, Max, Farpae and Titanius, as well as Fremod, Tachojay and Pebbles.
I felt that even though they weren’t lieutenants, they were representative of the other races and would offer a different view point.
“We all know what happened during the mission and how it ended. What I want to hear from you is what we did wrong, what we did right and any recommendations to improve our performance.”
“This is highly unusual Bob. I have never done this before, nor have I heard of this happening before,” Farpae said, clearly nervous.
“Relax, bud we do it all the time on Earth. It’s all part of improving ourselves, to be better than the other guys,” Max replied.
“Among the trolls, it is customary for the king’s advisors to brief him, but as with the human armies here, it is highly unusual for a noble to ask his men what he did wrong,” Fremod said.
“Bah! I can’t believe that we are being dominated by species that is too dumb to learn from themselves,” Tachojay exclaimed.
“True, true. If our warleaders dare not listen to his men, he finds himself a head shorter very quickly. We obey the chain of command yes, but even the lowliest foot soldier can see something different from his commander that can be used to their benefit,” Pebbles added.
“I see that we have vastly different military cultures among us. I want to encourage an open door-policy. As Pebbles has just said, even a lowly private can see something that we may have overlooked that may be crucial to our mission. If that is so, they mustn’t be afraid to speak up about it so it comes up the chain to us where we can act upon it. I would even go so far as to say that the sergeants and even corporals should be able to make split-second tactical decisions if needed. So, Farpae, Fremod, please feel free to speak your mind,” I said.
“Right, thank you,” Farpae relaxed visibly. “I want to know why we never used Thackeray. You had him prepare a spell or two, and we were clearly out numbered. So would it not have been an advantage then for us to have used him?”
“Honestly, I forgot all about him and what he can offer us. We don’t have any magic on Earth, so it completely slipped my mind. But, in the future, please bring it up in our planning and execution of missions.”
“I noticed that we don’t have set squads yet. That will be a problem for the future.”
“You are absolutely right, Tachojay. I don’t know who is capable of what yet. The winter snows were a problem to actually see who can do what, but after this mission I have a better idea. And once we are in our new HQ I will be sorting that issue out ASAP. We need dedicated scouts, heavy infantry and archers, I know. And it will be sorted out,”
This answer was received by a murmur of approval from the whole group.
The rest of the afternoon was spent going through the events and a lot of recommendations for improvements came out as well. This made me happy. I knew we were not a finished fighting force. Not by a long shot. But as with everything else in life, there is always room for improvement.
By the end of the week we had packed up everything and were ship bound for our new headquarters, situated on the western shores of Lake Eire about a hundred metres from the shoreline. Prince Marcus had his engineers build us a new fort, as per a set of plans myself and Max had thought out. It was a mixture of ideas - pentagon shaped with the wooden walls about ten metres high. The food stores directly underneath the walls for added protection and the men and officers’ quarters were built on the eastern side, closest to the shore. A huge parade ground was in the centre with the training grounds, obstacle courses and ranges outside of the walls. Hioki’s smithy was built along the southern walls, greatly expanded to house a few more blacksmiths and apprentices in the future. A well was sunk near the quarters, providing us with the fresh water we needed.
The idea behind the pentagon shape was to add overlapping fields of fire for archers and later on, our own siege equipment, similar to the forts back on earth during the early gunpowder days. The fort was large enough to house the three hundred men I envisaged we would have one day, with enough space to house a few extra hundred more. The hard part now, was to find the right men to build up Ghost Company to the high standards I wanted. The men I had now would form the officers’ core needed for most of the company. But the actual combat veterans would be hard to come by.
Within a few weeks of settling in, we had a good routine going for our ongoing training. Max and Jos put the few new recruits we found their paces, while Farpae, Pebbles, Tachojay and Fremod were visiting various towns and barracks in their home towns to find suitable recruits for us. Thackeray was away in Doorengaan liaising with the mages there to recruit a few more wizards and to learn a new spell that would help us with communication between wizards in different towns. Kind of like a modern day radio network.
Spring rolled into warm summer days, and the training went from mere marching and fighting to swimming lessons for most of the men. While those of us from Earth were trained in water insertion combat techniques, most of the Curixians could not swim. The dwarves plain refused to swim at all while Tachojay took to the water like a fish. It was a lazy, early summer’s day, a rare one where we were all off just relaxing when I got a strange visit by two very strange characters.
Two orcs were brought to me by the guard on duty, both looking rather nervous around themselves, and at the array of men, elf, dwarf and troll lounging by the lake side.
“Mister Bob sir. Sorry to be disturbing you like this sir,” the first Orc said as he looked down at me rather sheepishly where I lay tanning.
I looked up at the two orcs and studied them before I answered. Both orcs seemed to be just a few centimetres taller than me, but were almost as broad across the shoulders as Fremod and just as heavily muscled. Their lower jaws jutted out slightly with the two bottom canines’ just showing out from their bottom lips. They wore basic leather armour and simple woolen trousers, but stood barefoot on the beach. They were both were armed with a heavy, double-headed axe slung across their backs.
“No problem at all, just get out my sun,” I replied.
“Right, right sorry sir. I would like to introduce my brother and I. My name is Kimba, and this is Mycotaur,” Kimba bowed slightly as he introduced them.
“Hello there, gents, and what can I do for you on this bright and sunny afternoon?” I asked.
“Well, sir –” Kimba started.
“You are not one of my men. Besides we’re off duty, so Bob is fine.”
“Well, actually, Bob, that’s very kind of you.
Not what we have heard about your group, mind you.”
“Oh really?” I asked. This got the attention of the rest of the guys, who starting drifting in to surround
us, but careful not to block my sunlight.
“Um, well yes you see, Bob, long story short is that, my brother and I would like to join the Ghost Company or platoon, whichever is the name,” Kimba asked slightly nervous now with the added attention around them.
“It’s Ghost Company now, yes, but we aren’t company sized yet, more a platoon size, maybe slightly bigger. But we’re flexible so it doesn’t really matter to us,” I explained.
“Ah, right, right. Well, anyway, Bob, you see my brother and I ran into some trouble up there by Queen Canderson, and we were, um, let’s say, advised to leave the jungle as soon as possible. And that maybe we would fit in better with, and I quote with no disrespect sir, ‘those barbaric humans and their new oppressive weapon, the Ghosts,’” a nervous Kimba said now, looking left and right at the men around him.
“Did they say that now? Who said that? Queen Canderson?” I asked, slightly bemused.
“No sir, Bob, she was the one who actually advised us to leave the jungle before something, unsavory happened. Something unsavoury always happens around us, it seems.”
“It was Shorty, Queen Canderson’s generals’ second in command,” A timid-sounding Mycotaur said.
I looked up at the two orcs now with sudden interest.
They were not saying something important – the real reason why they were here to join us. I leisurely rose to my feet and looked up slightly into their eyes.
“I thought orcs were green?” I asked Max. With that the whole platoon burst out laughing, visibly easy the tension that had been building over the two orcs.
“We are actually green. But once away from the jungle we revert to a colour not to dissimilar from you humans. I suppose besides the face and size of us we may actually pass as humans, hey Mycotaur?” Kimba asked his brother.
“You know, Kimba, I never thought of that. I bet neither have most of those idiots back at the jungle,” he replied.
“Well, I’m sure there is a very fascinating story here, but now I am hungry, so let’s take a walk to the mess hall and you can tell us all about it,” I said, gently turning the brothers around and leading them towards HQ’s gates.
“So, tell me your sad story while we sit and have some beer?” I said, as we neared the mess hall.
“Thank you kindly, sir, that would be most generous,” Kimba replied. “Well, I take it you don’t really know much about us orcs. It seems not many people do. I suppose that is the fault of our leaders who prefer to keep us in isolation.
“You see, it’s long been a policy of our leaders, over the centuries to keep us in isolation. Why you may ask, we don’t know. Our race likes to keep to themselves trading only what is necessary with those around us. Also, I think it has to do with the population-breeding scheme, so to say, which was introduced around that time. Somewhere it was decided that we must all be big, muscular lads. Those who were berserkers were idolized and highly sought after. It became the norm for selected marriages to occur to try and increase the amount of natural berserkers amongst the warrior class. Within a few generations, almost all the soldiers were berserkers. Which is all very well, berserkers are fearless fighters, able to do massive amounts of damage and to take a lot of damage in return. But, a movement started not too long ago, by those who started to question the need for berserkers. We were no longer at war with anybody, or ourselves. And the berserker experiment started showing signs of failing. Berserks can’t think very well in that state. They don’t make very good leaders and are actually quiet dumb.”
“That’s right,” Mycotaur continued, with his slightly deeper voice. “The warleaders and generals have trouble controlling the troops. Queen Canderson saw this great failing, while her father, Phipps was still king. She resolved to end the lunacy of selective breeding, but it seems that it falls on deaf ears. Berserkers are still a sought after asset in the warbands. The warleaders still seek far and wide for the biggest and strongest berserkers in their districts. This leaves us the normal, sane orc at a disadvantage when it comes to placement within our society, either we become farmers, or auxiliary units, like stretcher bearers for the warbands.”
Kimba took over once more, “But, a few intrepid souls decided to buck the trend. They formed their own warbands of non-berserker orcs, namely us. My brother and I took that bold step and formed the first warband. At first we were ridiculed and mocked. But soon our number grew to a rather respectable thirty members. All non-berserker, all clear-thinking individuals capable of independent thought, all deadly with the axe and throwing axe. This wasn’t a problem until we starting participating in the inter-clan war games. At first we lost heavily to our bigger, stronger opponents, but we got smarter and changed our tactics midway through the battles. This caught our berserker friends off guard. There they were, all red-eyed, foaming at the mouth, bashing away at our shields, when a small group of us broke off and circled them. We threw our axes into their bare backs, causing those berserkers to strike out at those on their side. Those who were struck by their own team members retaliated and fought back. Soon, the entire enemy warband was fighting among each other, while we just stood back and picked off one member at a time. We repeated this against the rest of the other warbands, winning the competition. Of course the warleaders were furious because we didn’t follow tradition, and when I challenged the stupidity of this tradition, I was chased away by a berserk war council.”
Mycotaur finished off, “And this is when the ever-present and rather intelligent Queen Canderson suggested we leave and find you. Hoping that perhaps our, out completely different thinking style of warfare may be of use to those who recognise it.”
“Well, that is very interesting, boys,” I asked, “but, not knowing anything about orcs, I will just have to take your word for it. But –” I held up my hand at the two orcs before they could interrupt me. “– but, we could always do with good men. So, in order to join us as fully fledged members of the Ghost Company, you will have to complete the training just like everybody else. If you complete it, then you would be welcomed in. Understood?”
“Yes, sir, we do,” the two orcs said, looking at each other.
“Good. As you can see, we have a variety of individuals already in the company. So you would be welcomed in if you can make the cut. Go and find Jos, the one-armed trainer, and tell him I sent you and that you will be joining the current intake of recruits.” I dismissed them with a salute.
Looking at each other again, and trying to copy my salute, they left with their meager belongings and went looking for Jos.
“So, gentlemen, what do you think of that?” I asked those around me. A babble of voices rose, each giving their opinion.
“Well, Bob,” Fremod said when the noise died down eventually. “We have dealt with the orcs for a good many years, as have the elf and dwarf kingdoms. And what those two have said is sadly true. The orcs seem to be breeding themselves into extinction by dabbling with berserkers. Most of those berserkers are very stupid, almost like morons. It won’t be long, maybe a few more generations, and the orcs would all be semi wild animals, very sad, really.”
“True, true. It’s getting easier and easier to cheat them out of trade. Not fun anymore, me dad tells me,” Shard said, shaking his head.
“Well, I prefer a dumb orc to a clever, scheming one who can think for himself,” Tachojay sniffed.
“They do make fearsome opponents though, berserk or not,” somebody muttered from the back to a general agreement.
“Okay, keep an eye on them and see how they hold up and how they fit in with our structures,” I told Max.
The days flowed into each other as we continued training. Word came from the prince with Thackeray that those taking part in the wargames would start arriving within the next month and that he wanted to meet with me just before the celebratory feast to mark the beginning of the games in about six weeks’ time.
My lieutenants and I were hard at work planning what we would actually do during these games. Prince Marcus wa
nted us to do something different, something that we would have done on earth. So, there we were planning every night until late.
The orcs went through the training pretty well. Huffing and puffing, they endured the obstacle course, gave and received their fair share of bruises on the practice ranges, and managed the long training runs in full combat gear. While most of the recruits eventually gave up and left us, the two orcs seem to relish the physical challenges we threw at them. They were slower than us, being heavier muscled, but they made up with incredible stamina. Soon, there were only a handful of recruits left, the orcs, a female soldier from Plenty, and another elf. Thackeray was putting his mage recruits through their paces and would eventually join the company a few weeks later, bringing the tally of new blood to seven.
Two weeks before I had to report to Prince Marcus at Doorengaan, I sent out scouts to get a feel for the lay of the land where the wargames was to be held. In the meantime, I met the recruits individually and welcomed them to the company. Each recruit accepted the commission and partook in the ritual of branding the company logo onto their right shoulder. The company was getting too big to do the whole blood-sharing thing. Somebody was bound to pass out from a lack of blood. I met with the two orcs a few days later in my study, to discuss a plan that I had been mulling about for the wargames.