Malcor's Story

by Eric K. Barnum

  The commander’s sword gleamed in this darkvision but against the seething lightless claw of his right arm, it barely glimmered. Finally, Malcor caught that sword on Coming Undone and just like that, the battle was over. Disarmed within seconds, the orc resorted to hiding behind its shield. Several strikes by Coming Undone shattered the shield into freezing glass. A brutal claw attack speared the commander into a fountain of gore. With the commander's death, the others fled. Malcor noted how few were left. Without thinking, he used his dragon arm to catapult himself forward and rend another orc. Its death screams made the others run faster and Malcor felt his pulse quicken. He smelled their fear and it was delicious.

  His darkvision caught movement and he whirled noting intense golden radiance and the darker barely-there forms of the others – not orcs. Someone was missing and the many wounds oozed red. Feeling nothing at all, Malcor watched his body leap forward to attack the brightness, which came from Noboyuki's holy symbol. He tried to call out, to warn Noboyuki, but his body did not respond. Noboyuki though stood equal to the task and struck a ringing blow that blew Malcor over backwards…

  …and his head smacked to the blood wet floor.

  “This is becoming too common,” Malcor grumbled as light, sound, and pain wracked him awake. He found himself tied and bound. “Why am I tied up?”

  Jaga leaned forward, “Do you remember attacking Noboyuki?”

  “I saw him, he was bright and shining and everything was so dark…”

  “Do you remember your arm turning into a black claw?” Sako asked.

  He nodded. Noboyuki spoke then, “You changed Malcor. You became enraged and began tearing through our enemies as if they were paper instead of flesh. And it grew so cold. You kept fighting, as you do, even with wounds that would kill the rest of us. I tried to approach and calm and heal you but you turned on me. Lucky for me, you were so weak, I hit your head and you went down.”

  “The orcs, there were so many, and I did not know what the rest of you, if you would live. All I thought was to take out their leader and hope the rest would run away. One of their weapons struck my arm and the rest is hazy. I saw it, but it did not feel like me.”

  “Your arm still will not heal. It bleeds Malcor.” Noboyuki checked the bandages again soaked with blood. “The wound appears to have snake scales growing around it. Are you a dragon?”

  Malcor chucked, “No, I am not a dragon, but my father. Well, my religion calls us the children of the dragons. There are legends of some of Tania’s heroes being able to become dragons. Certainly, the dragons walk with us as humans. Why not the other way around? If I am, I do not know it.”

  “Are you a berserk warrior?” the priest asked.

  “I think so. Though in Tania, that is a discipline and I was not selected for training in that path.”

  Sako spoke now, “You always talk about your life and future there as if it is determined by others. I was not selected… I was not chosen… what do you want Malcor? Do you ever get a say in selecting and choosing your own path?”

  He looked at her, “I feel calm, you can untie me. Sako, I want to be a paladin. Berserkers cannot serve as knights. They become a tool of the war machine and are owned by it. You cannot trust a berserker in combat. When the fury takes over, they fight until they die or are…”

  Jaga finished, “Knocked unconscious. Like you Malcor.”

  “I am not a berserker. I choose to not be one. If I get to choose, I choose to be a paladin.”

  Sako pulled his hair back from his face. “Malcor, if all Tanian knights start out like you, then they must be the most powerful fighters ever. But, you went berserk. How is what happened to you different than the others?”

  She untied his bounds against the group’s discomfort and helped him up. He sat up and rubbed his wrists and stretched. Hiroshi brought him some food and drink. Same as his Rite of Pain, he felt ravenously hungry, and they scavenged the destroyed storeroom for remnants of food. “I was aware. I remember seeing Nobo. I remember fighting. Berserkers do not. I feel no sorrow, only regret that I could not stop any aggression towards you. There is a difference between the fog of war and the fury of a berserker. My apologies to you Noboyuki. I was not myself and clearly have some work to do with self-control. Especially in combat.”

  Sako touched his right shoulder as if scared it would attack her. “And this is you? Or is it something else, like a curse?”

  “It is a blessing,” Malcor whispered, wincing with pain as he flexed his arm. “I had a vision, of dragons. And then this was here after.”

  He stood up and took stock of their situation. He could easily tell the enemies he had dropped before and during his transformation. Elegant sword attacks changed to gaping and terrible wounds and scattered gore. He guessed that he had taken out more than half the fallen by himself. Sako’s rolling ball of flame had done lots of damage as well. “We can’t stay here any longer,” he said to no one in particular.

  With that, he began gathering his gear together and made ready. Without comment, the others did as well. The dark passage loomed before them.

  Chapter Fifty Three - Calvin as an Officer

  Calvin sat in a class in the Soldier’s Fort. The transition had been hard. He felt utterly exposed and self-conscious and though several weeks had passed, he still felt like the knights knew as they looked at him, that he had once been a knight, and had fallen out of the knighthood. Though no one said anything, quite the contrary, all of his comrades had either fallen out of the knighthood too or had chosen the officer path rather than paladin. Truth to tell, he had never been more afraid than when he walked up to the Fort’s massive gates that day Dar Shara had saved his life and ended his ambitions as a knight. “Morbatten recognizes multiple ranks of soldiers. However, they are all variants off the core ranks. Sir Calvin, what are the core ranks?” the instructor barked.

  “Sir, Sargent is the first officer rank. This is followed by Lieutenant, then Captain. After that, R’Dar and Dar become the main designators with military insignia showing specifics.”

  “Excellent Sir Calvin. You,” the instructor said pointing to a woman in the front row. Calvin had noticed her earlier because she had lithe and feminine body but when he saw her face, the diagonal scars made her downright ugly. “What insignia designates an officer in command of 100 captains?”

  The lady stood and Calvin noted for the hundredth time how horribly her face and probably her upper body had been sliced up. She may have once been pretty, but now, she appeared only pitiful. “A 100 captains are commanded by a Dar, any Dar. The exception would be a dread lord, who takes command by being present.”

  The instructor smiled. “Perfect answer Lady Ayden. Impress me further. Can a paladin command 100 captains?”

  She titled her head and without missing a beat responded, “Paladins are like dread lords. By being present, at any level, a paladin may take control of any group of soldiers. However, unlike the dread lords, they must ask and be granted command when the commander outranks them, militarily-speaking.”

  “I am impressed. So, class, under what circumstances would you tell a paladin “no”?”

  The class fell silent and Calvin remembered how his lack of initiative had contributed to his being cast out of the knighthood. He answered, “We should never tell a paladin “no”. However, the correct thing to do would be to understand the knight’s desired outcome and ensure it is achieved. If the knight insists on taking command, we should make use of our own lines of communication to ensure strategy is not compromised by a mid-battle shift in priorities. The paladins are motivated by the Temple towards religious not necessarily tactical outcomes.”

  The instructor looked at Calvin and then nodded. “Very good. Let me share a story from our history with you. A great myrmidon, one of you, a professional soldier of the empire named Dar Glaz, commanded an army of Tanians, Sorians, elves, and Imperics. This was in Bloodstone. The Dar priestess of Bloodstone, from the Temple at Bloodstone, had joined with
her retinue to push the undead back from the valley floor where a party of knights had been trapped underground in a new tunnel. Dar Glaz had been given explicit instructions to rescue the knights. The Dar priestess and even her dread lord entrusted Dar Glaz with this single outcome. How many of you know this story? All of you, yes?” Many heads nodded. “So, one of you, tell me – what happened?”

  A fellow student answered, telling the story of how Dar Glaz led the army into a pincer attack with one group timed to attack and then retreat so as to draw the main horde of undead away from the tunnel. The second group would then race to and hold the tunnel while a group of heroes went in and reinforced the paladins, who had come under attack by a hellhound. “Dar Glaz’s strategy worked flawlessly.”

  “Wrong,” the instructor said. “All of you take a deep breath. This story is widely known as you told it, but the truth is far different. The truth is this: Dar Glaz was a captain, just like each of you will likely be. He was one captain of many. A paladin ordered a full frontal attack assuming the Queen’s might would save them, even though they were vastly outnumbered. The hellhound killed the knight and left our forces leaderless. Dar Glaz ordered a retreat using the knight’s banner, and set out this strategy. Some of the knights labelled him a coward and the second pincer, in Glaz’s strategy, refused to wait. They pre-emptively attacked, which then pitted a divided Tanian army against the entire horde. Things were going poorly until Glaz convinced the Dar priestess and the dread lord to follow his plan. Even with their support, the knights refused to follow him and Glaz abandoned them. The dread lord glassed the valley floor and they had to later open a separate rescue tunnel. Only three knights of the twenty trapped survived. The Bloodstone protocol failed the slain seventeen who all raised up as servants of the Jade God and continue their fight against us even now.”

  When the instructor stopped talking, the room’s silence ached. Into that silence, the instructor whispered, “What do we learn from this story?”

  Another student said what Calvin thought, “That Tania’s stories are maybe different than what happened?”

  The instructor smirked, “Don’t be coy with me. You all know the emperor closely follows our culture, society, and stories. While it is true – there are legends and then there is what really happened, there is something else to learn here.”

  Ayden spoke, “The knights are not always right. They can focus too much on a tactic and place the strategy at risk. In this case, the glory of fighting a mighty foe compromised the knight’s orders to rescue their fellows.”

  “What happened to Glaz?” Calvin asked.

  “Sir Ayden, you are correct again. Sir Calvin, what do you think happened?” When Calvin shrugged, the instructor told him that, “Glaz and the fellow captains had the objective to rescue the knights. Seventeen of them died, never mind their entourages and others with them. This was their order – all of them. They were all disciplined. Unlike the others though, Glaz came back from his discipline with the Queen’s grace. Within a year, he took command of the military in Bloodstone. Some years later, the emperor recognized him with R’Dar title and his legend never stopped growing. When he retired, he changed his name through marriage with a priestess. His new name should be recognizable to you all… Debruce Tel’Cori.” Seeing the eyes of the class grow wide, “Yes, the founder of the Adventurer’s Guild here in Morbatten.”

  They had many classes like this. When not in class, Calvin trained with all manner of weapons and all manner of armor. When not training, he went out with already established officers on patrol. When winter arrived, he and his class would be sent into the Winter Wars. Small squad tactics meant everything and through small squad tactics, the myrmidons would achieve rank and eventually command.

  One day, during maneuvers in the highland plain behind the Fort, Calvin saw a stream of heavy chargers come over the road’s rise and noted Seline at the column’s head. Her armor gleamed in the autumn sunlight and a pinion from her lance lashed the air over the column behind her. Seeing her pained him but he swallowed his pride when he saw her course would bring her by him. Continuing his training, he stopped and bowed low as she rode by. She immediately recognized him and pulled aside to allow the column to continue. Dismounting, she gave him a hug and asked how he had been doing.

  “It’s been difficult, but I feel better here. It is certainly less painful!” he joked. “I see you have made it in the Order of Fire?”

  She nodded and a moment of remembered pain passed through her face. “Yes. The Order of Fire. It’s funny. Until it happened, I did not know there are different groups of paladins. Oh, your friend Malcor – the one you often spoke about. He is in the Order of Water though I haven’t seen him or even that Order, anywhere. They are absent all of the training and skirmishes.” She looked around noting the less polished but far more practical gear of the officers.

  Calvin hefted his blunted training sword. “Yeah, as a knight, the tools are pretty specific – armor, sword, faith. Officer stuff is nowhere near as glorious as you Lady Seline. Of course, no one here is nearly as beautiful as you either,” he spoke with a flourish and bow, “but perhaps the Order of Fire will need troops capable of marching in straight lines and fighting with other weapons.” He pointed at her glorious sword, “Speaking of Mal, did he make that one for you?”

  She shook her head and drew the sword for Calvin to see. “No, I’ve never seen him, just heard some stories about him. Does he make swords like these? This is a holy avenger you know, though I have yet to claim it.”

  Calvin ran his finger along its blood groove. “An amazing weapon Lady. My friend Malcor, he made a sword similar to this. In Klenna, the knights were always bringing him swords like this for special treatment. He has a gift.”

  “Calvin, about the training, I…”

  Calvin looked up at the sky and interrupted her, “No need. You listened to the Goddess. I listened to a grouchy old mage. Dar Shara was right about me. I am not cut out to be a knight. Close enough to be, but not actually able. I like this. We train hard, play war games, and eat well. But still, I miss the regimen, the sense of purpose and belonging, of being part of the Temple. My family will no doubt be disappointed.” He shrugged but Seline could see how hard it was for him.

  She smiled wistfully and agreed. “I’ve missed you Calvin. I’m glad to see you doing well. I need to get back to my unit.”

  Calvin bowed low and watched her turn to mount her horse and leave. His training counterpart observed, “She sure is something.”

  “Yes, she is special.”

  “What is this Order of Fire and Water thing? Water seems a bit out of place for one of our orders.”

  Calvin shrugged, “Go figure. It’s an elemental thing perhaps. It probably kills my friend that he didn’t make it into the Order of Fire. He always wanted to be the best.”

  They went back to sparring, practicing switching hands with their weapons, and using the hand signs common to the soldiery. As they sparred, Ayden came over and watched during a break and then asked if she could work her way in. “I saw you talking to that lady.” They continued sparring, “I knew her back in the Dutchy.”

  “Oh? I was in her class in the Temple, before.” Calvin answered during a parry. “She’s very good.”

  Ayden smirked and began a series of kick attacks where the sword’s movements would create opportunities for kicks. “She’s okay I suppose.”

  They continued talking and sparring and Calvin sensed she wanted to say something. “You have more you want to say?” he asked.

  “No, it’s nothing. Just something I thought about when I saw the two of you.”

  They continued sparring until break was called.

  Chapter Fifty Four - Seline and Blaze

  Seline stood beside an ornamental tree, in its shade watching. Calvin did seem a lot more relaxed than he had been at the Temple. Even when she had caught him during the skirmish, she had struggled to tell if his reaction had been disappointment or relie
f. She felt a warm tingle along the back of her neck, and her skin prickled with excited arousal. “My lord Blaze, I did not realize you were at the Fort today,” she said, watching Calvin and that disfigured girl go back and forth in their duel.

  A deep rumbling behind her confirmed that dread lord Blaze had indeed walked up behind her. “You like that boy.”

  “Am I so transparent Dar Blaze?”

  “All humans are. He is beneath you. Put him out of your mind and heart.” He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around. “You Lady, are transparent. In the River, you are beautiful. That boy down there, in the River, is dying. Someday you will see how unworthy he is of your regard.”

  Seline blushed and felt a growing anxiety. Blaze had this effect on her, and the others. Dar Niss had explained it to her as fire being a reference to more than actual burning flames. “Fire can also be passion, anger, rage. You never hear of red dragons playing games that require patience. They want what they want and take it. For us, interacting with them, this aura will call up all kinds of desires. I tell you now Seline, there are not many lady paladins in this empire. They all fall under the spell of the dragons and succumb. If you can last, if you can endure it in chastity as the Goddess requires, you will be rewarded beyond your dreams.”