by Adam Elliott
Before Valserys could voice any of the no doubt numerous questions that he had in mind, the combat began to reach its conclusion. As expected, the Beastmen had lost the engagement, which left this as the moment of truth.
The defeated enemy had only two directions to which they could retreat. They could delve back into the caves, which Valserys assured him would be a nightmare of tunnel warfare that might be best fought by the players themselves if they planned to avoid casualties. Or they could retreat into the empty hex Cayden had left between the combat and the frontline.
They chose the latter.
“Yes!” Cayden shouted, pounding his knuckles down on the side of the War Frame. Beside him, Silver was grinning from ear to ear, and even blue-skinned Valserys couldn’t entirely conceal his delight at a plan well struck.
“As expected, Field Marshall. Well done.”
“We should be thanking them, not me,” Cayden replied, ignoring the look of distaste from Silver in favor of the results being displayed in the Combat Log.
The Pointy Third (Defensive Formation) attacks Beastman Formation - Attack Value: 1350 vs. Defense Value 870.
The Pointy Third deals 39 damage to Beastman Formation.
Beastman Formation attacks The Pointy Third (Defense Formation) - Attack Value: 870 vs. Defense Value 2500.
Beastman Formation deals 2 damage to The Pointy Third
“That… went better than expected.” Silver said as she finished reading the results.
“To put it mildly.” Their plans had assumed the worst-case scenario estimate of one hundred Beastmen given by the scouting reports, which would have put their actual damage received closer 17. With the numbers so much lower, this wasn’t so much a battle as it was a slaughter.
“Shall we send in the First to wipe them out?” Valserys asked.
“Yeah. But let’s take them off of Blitz.” Cayden smiled. “I don’t think they’re going to need it.”
***
The order came like a jolt to Aleph’s mind. Attack.
He’d been waiting on pins and needles since the first clash of bodies since the first inhuman scream had reached their ears. These Beastmen were nothing. Poorly equipped, barely trained. They had unusual physical strength, enough to overcome some of their disadvantages if they’d had the numbers. But they didn’t have the numbers. Or the leadership.
Or the morale. The creatures fled from the Third, some with literal tails between their legs. They fled for the safety of the open plains, but in such a disorganized fashion that they didn’t even stop to consider the other two Elan forces standing between them and their escape.
“Looks like they’ve forgotten we’re here!” Aleph shouted, to a round of laughter from his men. They were nervous, he could see it on their faces. Any man going into combat would be, but this nervousness lacked the normal fear that accompanied the din of battle. His men were nervous they wouldn’t get their chance at a war story. “What do you say we go remind them.”
A series of bellowing whoops, joined by the clash of steel against shields was the only reply Aleph could hear. And it was the only one he needed. “Bastion First Company! Fighting First! March!”
Well, disciplined boots stomped foliage underfoot as the Elan advanced down into the quarry area. The Beastmen had made it halfway up the slope in their retreat, before the sight of the other two Elan formations had given them pause, and even now Aleph could see the fear behind beady eyes. Should they retreat, try and fight their way back through the Third at their rear, soldiers who had rounded to act as the anvil to Aleph’s hammer.
The First didn’t give them the chance to decide. They broke into a steady jog on their way down the slope, shouting and hollering, weapons upraised to let the fiends know what was coming for them. This was not the organized march of a spear wall, but the violent charge of a hundred men with a thirst for combat and glory.
Aleph’s men struck the Beastmen like a wave, collapsing the integrity of their line in an instant, the center breaking under the weight of the Elan charge. Soon it was less of a formation than a gaggle of independent skirmishes, their leader brought low by Aleph’s blade, their pocketed soldiers struggling to break free of the Elan that had them encircled on all sides.
There would be no surrender taken, no quarter given and no retreat allowed.
***
The Fighting First attacks Beastman Formation - Attack Value: 1900 vs. Defense Value 731.
The Pointy Third deals 61 damage to Beastman Formation.
Beastman Formation attacks The Fighting First - Attack Value: 731 vs. Defense Value 1900.
Beastman Formation deals 5 damage to The Fighting First.
Beastman Formation has been destroyed!
“I believe that victory should be to your liking, Field Marshall?” Valserys asked with a certain sense of self-satisfaction.
Cayden returned the man’s smile. “I don’t think I could have asked them to do any better. You’ll have to give me some tips on the proper etiquette to honor their deeds when they return.”
“With pleasure.”
He turned to speak to Silver, and instead found the dark haired mage studying an open window on the War Frame.
The Fighting First (Formation)
Type: Infantry (Elan)
Level: 1 (15% to Next Level)
Unit Count: 100/100
Formation Bonus: +6
HP: 95/100
MP: 0/0
TP: 100/100
Move: 4/8
Attack: 1852 (10 base, -2 Equipment, + 6 Formation, +2 Leadership, +1 Warmaster Bonus)
Defence: 1852 (10 base, +2 Equipment ,+ 6 Formation, +2 Leadership, +1 Warmaster Bonus)
Special: None
Resistances: None
Weaknesses: None.
The Pointy Third (Formation)
Type: Spear Infantry (Elan)
Level: 1 (5% to Next Level)
Unit Count: 100/100
Formation Bonus: +6
HP: 98/100
MP: 0/0
TP: 100/100
Move:3/8
Attack: 1337 (10 base, + 6 Formation, +2 Leadership, +1 Warmaster)
Defence: 2475 (10 base, + 6 Formation, +2 Leadership, +1 Warmaster)
Special: None
Resistances: None
Weaknesses: None
“Something caught your eye?” Cayden asked after several moments of studying the same screens.
“Hmm?” Silver asked. He was about to repeat himself when the words finally processed inside her mind, and she indicated a number of fields. “The math seemed wrong to me. Didn’t you notice?”
“You mean the Warmaster bonus?” At her nod, he continued. “I found it on the Frame this morning. I can designate any unit on our side as Warmaster, and that unit gives half their Leadership, rounded up, as a bonus to all units. The full bonus, in the event that they are actually with the unit.”
“Why not assign Valserys?” She asked. “He has a +4. I don’t think they’d even have scratched our units if you had.”
Cayden winced. “I needed a control case.” The smirk was already beginning to form on her face, and he quickly continued his thought in an effort to get ahead of it. “The next fight, I’ll nominate Valserys, and see how much XP I get towards leadership.”
“Ah, so all that about not putting them at risk goes by the wayside when it comes to leveling up your skills, hmm?”
“No.” His cheek hurt from biting down on it. He didn’t need another argument. “I tried putting Valserys in charge, and it doesn’t give us any access to new Tactics. I need to know whether or not I get the same XP regardless of who is in charge because the Tactics might be make or break in some fights.”
“Chill, chill, I was only teasing.” Silver held her hands up in surrender.
No, you weren’t. He thought. Still, he decided to drop the subject, returning his attention to the frame. “Decent experience for combat as well. If we can find other fights like this, we can feed them levels pretty quic
kly.”
“I was thinking the same.” Silver directed his attention to the Third Company. “If I had to guess, I’d say five experience for a fight, and an extra ten for a kill.”
“Which means our best strategy against things we can beat and contain is to come at them in defensive formations to maximize the number of times we get to swing at them.” Cayden mused.
“Depending on how quickly they heal.” Silver clarified. “Which, I suppose we’ll find out as soon as the turn ends.”
“Mhmm. Before that, though.” Cayden reached for the War Frame and selected Bastion’s Second. A line glowed between the unit and their destination as he directed them from their support position to the mine itself.
The moment the second crossed the threshold of the Hex, the Mine option on the nearby production menu began to glow. It pulsed for a few seconds, just long enough to draw Cayden’s attention, before settling down into the same neutral color as all of his other active options. The mine was theirs now.
With such an invitation, it would have felt almost rude to ignore it:
Mine Development
It’s about time that you mine some Iron (1/1)
Cost: 30 Production
Production: +5 when worked.
Iron resource now available.
“Cayden, are you drooling?” Silver asked.
“Only a little.“He shot back without the slightest hint of embarrassment. A +5 bonus to production would be enormous by itself alone, to say nothing of the ability to produce new unit equipment. He almost swapped over to production of the mine then and there, but he held off on two counts.
The first was that anytime workers were pulled off a project, it lost all progress made by the removed workers, which would be a substantial loss in the case of the Lower Township repairs. The second was that caveat. When worked. They’d all be best served if he spoke to Roberta about its meaning, before jumping that particular gun.
“Might I make a recommendation, sir?”
Field Marshall, he could take. But Valserys calling him ‘Sir’? They were going to have a talk about that later. “Please.”
“An area subject to recent infestation is likely to have substantial rewards.” A hand reached up to pull on one end of his waxed mustache as he spoke. Perhaps not the best visual image when one was talking about looting the dead, but Valserys didn’t seem to notice the issue. “If we were to instruct the Second to search the mines before ordering them back, it could prove beneficial.”
“I was already planning on ordering a sweep to be sure we didn’t miss anyone.” Cayden smiled broadly. “We’ll just call that an extra incentive.”
“Of course, Marshall.”
With the unit still selected, Cayden double tapped the banner that served as their visual representation. A small menu sprung to life just above it, with new contextual options due to their location. Site Search was at the top of the list, and Cayden gleefully selected it:
This formation will be unavailable for three turns while Site Searching. Are you sure? Y/N
“Well, that is a bit of a kick in the teeth.” Cayden frowned. The plan had been to have all three units back inside Bastion by the end of the midday turn, but that wasn’t going to happen. They could withdraw the other two, but he wasn’t particularly excited about the idea of leaving a fifth of his combat strength out by itself with backup half a turn out of reach.
Silver appeared to have the same idea, judging by the intensity by which she had begun to study the map. “We could leave the First and Second on site, then move the Third into the field, here.” She indicated. “Puts them halfway between Bastion and the mine, with enough Move left to support both.”
“Works for me.” He concurred, already directing the Third to spend its remaining movement in order to start them on their way. With that done, he reached out and selected Y on the waiting menu.
Immediately the Second moved into action, their miniature representations moving about like so many ants on the tabletop. They were building a camp, constructing some small measure of fortification and comfort. It was a good idea, actually, one he had the first replicate with the remainder of their turn. A unit with no less than half its remaining Move was allowed to take the Fortification action during its turn. This involved digging trenches, setting stakes, even setting up temporary watchtowers. It increased both the unit’s sight radius, from two hexes to three, as well as gave it a 10% bonus to defense that was stackable up to a total of 40%.
“So what now?” Silver asked.
Cayden shrugged. “I guess now we wait.”
Chapter Twelve
Day One - Midday Turn
Resources â F â 240 +10, Z â 140 +10, M â 120 +10, I â 150 +20, P +17, R +10
“Ah. Well that sucks.”
“A succinct way to phrase it, yes, Field Marshall,” Roberta replied, her brow wrinkled in consternation. She hated being the bearer of bad news, he had discovered. Being the one who had to tell him that the city would not be able to work the iron mines for the increased bonus to production until it’s population exceeded 1,000 certainly qualified.
“Hmm, nothing for it,” Cayden replied with a shrug. “Even so, depending on what happens with the Lower Township once this phase of repairs is completed, we may start work on it anyways. If only to have immediate access to the iron for steel production..”
That seemed to give her pause. “Will you be sending me to oversee the construction?”
He hadn’t considered that. The War Frame abstracted things to a degree that it was incredibly easy to forget that he wasn’t just playing a game, but giving orders. If he assigned Roberta to work on a project miles away from the city itself, he doubted she’d be available for these briefings. Which could be trouble when he still spent half the day plying her with questions.
“I don’t think so.” Relief sagged the petite woman’s shoulders, visible enough to prompt a question. “I take it you didn’t want to go?”
“Field Marshall, I would nev-”
“Roberta.” His interruption was as stern as a sixteen-year-old could manage when talking to an adult woman. “First off, Cayden, please. Secondly, I’m not mad. Just curious.”
Her bright eyes remained briefly guarded before at last she sighed. “Caves unnerve me at the best of times. Recently monster-infested caverns, more so.”
“You do realize I wouldn’t be sending you out with anything less than a full company as your bodyguard, right?”
“You-” She started, taken aback by the statement. “I-I did not realize that.”
He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. She felt small under his grip, and it felt odd to reassure her in such a fashion, but the way her expression softened eliminated any measure of awkwardness from the moment. “I don’t exactly have a wealth of mages.” he felt her stiffen at that but pressed on. “And fewer confidants. I don’t think I could handle losing you to some leftover critter in a dungeon.”
“Thank you.” The woman replied, a tentative smile at last playing across her lips. “Ending up as a meal is not so high on my preferences either.”
Cayden cocked an eyebrow. “They eat people?”
“Beastmen?” She snorted. “I am fairly convinced they’d eat anything not nailed down, if only so they could save the nails for last. Why I once-”
“Begging your pardon, Field Marshall.”
The unexpected voice belonged to a lightly armored soldier in the strategy room doorway. How long he had been there, waiting for a moment to interject, was hard to tell, but from the way his chest was heaving, Cayden suspected it hadn’t been long.
“Can I help you…?” Cayden asked. They had been so busy over these first few days that Cayden had barely set foot outside the keep itself, let alone fraternized enough with the troops to begin to attach names to faces.
“Sandoval, sir. I’m a runner attached to the keep guard.” The soldier kept a strict posture despite his quickened breath. “I’ve been disp
atched from the front gate. We have several individuals requesting an audience.”
Assigning troops to the front gate had been Valserys’ suggestion. At the time it had seemed like a bit of comical theatre, the walls were so damaged and porous that there seemed little purpose in stationing troops at the one place an enemy was unlikely to approach. Valserys had rebutted him by suggesting it as training for once the walls were fully repaired. Apparently, he would owe the mustachioed Lord General an apology.
“Did they seem dangerous?” Cayden asked. That they’d arrived at the gate at all suggested they were friendly, but there was no harm in asking.
“My impression was that they were locals. Only one of the group was armed in any meaningful way.”
Cayden looked to Roberta. “We did expect civilians to arrive.” She said. “We are counting on it, in fact.”
“Let them in. Keep them under guard, but be polite and respectful at all times.” Cayden relayed to the runner. “I’ll receive them individually in my study once the-”
“In the throne room.” Roberta cut in. “The Field Marshall will receive them in the Throne Room.”
Well, that explains that. Cayden thought. He’d been wondering what sort of audiences the Throne Room was going to throw at him.
After a few seconds it became apparent that the soldier was waiting, that with two conflicting orders, he wasn’t willing to depart without further guidance. “No sense in arguing, I suppose. Throne Room it is.”
***
“You look positively Regal Cayden.” Shifty’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he watched his party leader ascend the short flight of steps up the dais where the throne awaited.
“That is Field Marshall Cayden Caros the Third.” Celia chimed in with her best approximation of a posh British accent.
“The fourth, actually.” Cayden corrected.
“Huh?”
“Cayden C. Caros the Fourth.” He explained. “I come from a long line of alliterative names.”
“You’re joking.” Silver replied, deadpan.
“Am I?”
The magi studied his face for several long moments. “I honestly can’t tell.” She frowned. “But I am going to find out.”