To me, drones and the modern marvels that our military had produced seemed like a poor substitute for the bravery of a soldier. The pain and death were removed, true, but with it, perhaps, so too went some restraint on the use of force. I was an old soldier playing a soldier’s game that the AI had created for me, yet I was still proud of what I had once been a part of—a part of a legacy stretching back to the beginning of my nation.
By the time the sun went down, we were all exhausted. It had been a good day, but one I wished I was able to experience with my friend Ty. He was the only person I could remember from my previous life, the only link to my previous life. While I didn’t begrudge him one bit that he had left the game to be with his family, with Ty gone, I felt adrift, having no connection to reality other than a few fragmented memories and the assurances of a game AI.
I opted to spend the night out here in the fortified camp rather than in my quarters, even taking a turn at watch that evening. It would do the men good to see their commander struggling with them all day in training and then also be willing to stand watch. I knew I had always respected leaders who were willing to get their hands dirty.
As we cooked the evening meal of back and beans, one of the soldiers from the garrison forces came running up. Following behind him were six dwarves that I hoped were our runesmiths and the men that had respawned in the last hour. During the day, the men respawning had been thrown right into the training, filling out units that were the most depleted from our recent battles.
“Ye be Captain Raytak?” the oldest of the dwarves asked harshly as he approached.
“I am, and who might I be addressing?” I asked, annoyed at the lack of respect the dwarf was displaying.
“I be runesmith Harbox. Me and the boys here have been sent to fulfill the obligations of the Stonefinder Clan,” Harbox said with an angry scowl plastered on his face.
“We were expecting you, though if you plan to fulfill your obligation to Hayden’s Knoll, you should treat your commanding officer with a bit more respect,” I said, standing to glare back at the dwarf.
I could not abide by a subordinate being disrespectful to an officer or nco. If the Stonefinder Clan or any of our allies placed an auxiliary unit under my command, I expected them to follow the rules. Harbox looked me in the eye, saw something he was looking for, and then saluted.
“Aye, reporting for duty, sir! Sorry for the earlier disrespect, but when we met that little man Blevins, we feared you might be some kind o’ dandy like he was. We didn’t leave our clan to be sent to our deaths by some fool given a command he shouldn’t have. I ken see in ye, Captain, that the stories were true and you’re a fighting man. We stand ready to serve,” Harbox advised.
Blevins had done it again, causing potential problems with our new auxiliary force.
Harbox, Dwarven Runesmith, Level 11.
Runes per day: 12.
Available runes:
Fortification: The fortification rune strengthens the armor of all friendly forces within 50 feet of where it is activated for 10 minutes, granting a significant defensive bonus.
Forgefire: The forgefire rune can be thrown directly at a foe. When used in this manner, it will explode, doing severe damage and knocking back all within a 10-foot radius.
Stonespike Rune: The stonespike rune enables the runesmith to raise sharpened spikes of stone from the earth. The spikes will deal damage and hold a foe in place. Useful on single targets up to a huge size or on 10 medium-sized opponents or less within a 10-foot radius.
Earth Guardian Rune: This rune summons a medium-sized earth elemental that will follow the caster’s orders for the next 10 minutes. Multiple runes may be cast together to increase the size/power of the summoned elemental.
Mending Rune: The mending rune acts as an area of effect (AOE) heal. When cast, all friendly forces within a 50-foot radius will be healed for 20% of their health total over a period of 10 seconds. The spell will also repair damage to siege engines, walls, and other military equipment.
“I’ve seen your kin in action before and was very impressed. Do you need to inscribe your runes beforehand or is it done instantly?” I asked.
“Nae, they can’t be cast on the fly. They must be inscribed beforehand. Then we only need a few seconds to activate them right before they’re used. We typically prepare them the night before, so make sure ye lets us know what you want for the next day,” Harbox advised.
“Very well. For now, let’s go with a few of each and we can tailor them to what opponents we end up facing,” I added. The extra magic punch should come in handy.
“That was what we figured. Each o’ me lads hold two of each with an extra guardian and stonespike, as those seem to be very useful in large engagements,” Harbox said.
“Excellent. Go ahead and get yourselves something to eat. Sergeant Brooks will also see to getting you a legion tent and kit as well as assigning you to training tomorrow. If you’re going to fight with us, you need to know how we fight,” I told the dwarf. He nodded in understanding and followed Brooks to the supply cart, his other runesmiths in tow.
I took first watch and walked the perimeter of our camp, keeping a close eye on the area around us. As dangerous as combat had been in the real world, we never had to worry about monsters—at least the nonhuman monsters—when keeping watch. My watch passed uneventfully, and I was relieved.
I sat in my tent for a while, developing different strategies and trying to predict how our enemies would fight. Eventually, I concluded that we were as prepared as we could be; it was time to head out before we got rusty from sitting in the garrison.
We should be at close to ninety-percent strength by the morning, and I didn’t foresee too much trouble the first day on the road. I opened my campaign map and set our reinforcement parameters. I would have troops wait here at the garrison when they respawned until at least a squad had gathered.
Once enough troops had gathered, they would leave the garrison to meet the legion. Having them waiting until there was at least a squad’s worth of men would hopefully make them a less attractive target for wandering monsters. Since replacements traveled day and night without the need to stop for rest, they should be able to catch up to the legion even if we were traveling hard.
When morning reveille was called, the legion acted quickly. Breakfast was prepared and the camp broken down for travel. During the night, more replacements had trickled in, bringing us to 498 standard soldiers and thirty-nine advanced. Ignominia was only short eight soldiers and two scouts.
“Sir, the legion is ready to move out. What will be the order of march, sir?” Sergeant Brooks asked.
“We’ll have alpha company in front along with Ignominia. They’ll be followed by the siege train and supply wagons. Bravo will be right behind the wagons and the reserve platoon will handle the rear guard. Have all the scouts, including the ones from Ignominia, move out to gather recon and protect the flanks. When we move through the tall grass again, pull everyone in tight and set observers up on the wagons to watch the grass for movement in case the terror birds get frisky.
“I’ll stay at the front of the column and you can keep an eye on bravo and the rear guard. The other sergeant will command alpha company, and Tavers will be responsible for the siege train and supply wagons. The runesmiths can travel with Tavers for now. We’ll get a feel for where to place them once we know what we’re facing. Each day we’ll rotate the companies and nco’s. Anything to add, Sergeant?”
“No, sir. We’ll make it happen. Where are we heading first?” Brooks asked.
“We’ll head east along the road until we get to the transition point. Once we secure the transition point we can look for the ogres and elves, but I suspect we’ll encounter them on the way,” I ordered.
Like a giant serpent, the legion uncoiled itself from camp and began to move out. The soldiers manning the garrison lined the walls and saluted as we passed. Several townsfolk had also gathered to watch us leave.
The ch
ildren were excited; seeing the legion moving must have looked like a parade created for their entertainment. The parents wore worried and guarded looks, likely feeling less safe as our troops left the town area. We marched without song or cadence, just falling into the rhythm of the mile-eating pace that the legion set when traveling.
The farms closest to the town were now mostly occupied as the citizens respawned. The farthest occupied farm from the town was inhabited by one crusty old farmer working a plot of apple trees that grew along the roadway. This old farmer was surrounded by abandoned farms, the nearest neighbor miles away and closer to town.
He scowled at us as we passed before getting back to work. Several men plucked apples from the trees closest to the road. Brooks started to reprimand the soldiers, but I waved him off and handed a few silver coins to the farmer as I passed. The funds would be more than enough to cover the cost of a few apples, and the soldiers were enjoying themselves.
While foraging was a part of ancient warfare, I didn’t want the soldiers under my command to be nothing but a plague of locusts, stripping all the civilians in their path. We would function more like a modern army, relying on our own resources, whether shipped in or purchased, to keep us going. The last thing I needed was an upset and hostile civilian population in my rear areas once the invasion happened.
We made good progress and set camp in the late afternoon at the crossroads. The road here turned north toward the destroyed bridge and the transition point it once led to. The small outpost there didn’t need us to babysit them, so we would continue east. The size of our force had discouraged any attacks from the terror birds, much to the displeasure of some of the troops who were looking forward to the tasty meat. We also hadn’t encountered anything, friend or foe, since passing that lone farmer.
Camp was set and the watch rotation organized. The meal was the same as always, and I made a mental note to see about bringing a better variety of foods with us on the campaign trail. Perhaps something like a chuckwagon from the Old West days? I set up my own tent and was reviewing the latest reports, trying to predict when we would contact one of our potential foes, when something—inevitably—finally went wrong.
“Sir, a pair of soldiers on watch have gone missing,” Brooks said as he stuck his head into my tent, startling me for a moment.
“Did anyone see anything?” I asked.
“No, sir. The two assigned to relieve them found the position empty. None of the others on watch saw or heard anything. I roused the scouts and they couldn’t distinguish any tracks; there have been too many feet walking over that area during construction of the defenses. What are our orders?” Brooks asked.
I thought for a minute. This was unusual; if it were a monster attack, there would be blood or signs of a struggle. I doubted the ogres would be stealthy enough to slip in and out unseen. Perhaps the elves? I could drive myself crazy thinking of different scenarios. Without hard evidence, it could be anything. We had no idea what types of monsters might be out there.
“Top, it’s almost time anyway, so let’s get everyone up and moving. Make sure that the scouts today travel in larger groups and increase the size of the watch when we stop tomorrow night. I want them deployed in section strength with roving patrols on the perimeter and inside the camp itself,” I ordered, finding myself falling into old habits and calling First Sergeant Brooks by the title most first sergeants are known by: “top.”
“Very good, sir. We’ll make it happen,” Brooks said, hustling away quickly to go about his duties. A horn sounded reveille and the camp came alive. By the time the gear was stowed and the defenses taken down, breakfast was ready. Concerned about the missing soldiers, I barely tasted the food I quickly spooned into my mouth.
“Nothing you can do about it now, sir. It would be a mistake to stay here and search for soldiers we’ll likely never find,” Brooks said, guessing correctly at what was worrying me. He moved to the head of the column and I fell in with the siege train, wanting to see how Tavers was coming along. The call of “forward march” was passed down the column and we began our day’s journey. My best guess had the transition point still another two days away, perhaps two and a half.
We passed into a more open and rocky terrain. The tall grass that defined the terror birds’ hunting territory gave way to short grass and stony ground that stretched for as far as we could see. In the distance to the southwest, the tall shape of Goreaxe Peak grew in size. The mountain was notable in that it not only housed the ogres, but also was the only mountain around. We pressed on after only a short stop for rest and food around noon. A nearby stream gave us the chance to refill our water; the men still carried double waterskins, and I noted the runesmiths had followed suit.
The runesmiths had eschewed the lorica segmentata armor I offered, preferring the well-made chain shirt and reinforced leather pants they had arrived with. They also passed on the gladius, preferring the steel axe and small round shield for melee. Since they were auxiliary forces, I wouldn’t insist on them being geared the same as my men were. After all, the reason they were chosen was to fulfill a role my men could not.
The fact that they were armed and armored like warriors was a big plus for the class, in my opinion. Too often casters were glass cannons, but not these guys. I would sacrifice a little DPS (damage per second) for the durability the runesmiths provided.
A group of replacements joined us shortly after lunch, bringing our number to over five hundred regular troops; now we were only short eleven advanced soldiers. Our line companies spread their soldiers about, leaving each squad short only one man at most. We still were a few days away from another replacement nco. For now, Brooks was commanding the company as well as taking over for the missing nco.
Most of our previous losses to advanced soldiers had been with our scouts; the job was a dangerous one. Tavers had restructured his siege engines, sending most of the replacements into the scorpion crews. The catapults took time to assemble and set up anyway, but a scorpion crew needed to respond quickly. I approved of his line of thinking. The system really needed to promote the man to sergeant.
Only one scorpion and both catapults were short a single man for their crews. An hour after we were back on the road, the column halted, and a soldier came running back down the line, looking for me.
“Sir, there is a roadblock in the distance. First Sergeant Brooks requests your presence at the head of the column,” the private reported.
“I’ll be right up, Private. Head back to your unit. Sergeant!” I shouted over to the generic nco. “Get the men into battle formation. The ground appears pretty open, but let’s be prepared for anything. Tavers, get two of your scorpions up to the head of the column,” I ordered before running forward. I waved Wrend back; the man was bringing his platoon up, and while I appreciated his eagerness, I didn’t want to clog the road. I pointed to my eyes and signaled for him to also keep an eye out for trouble.
It was a common trick to set up a roadblock or stage an accident in order to lure a force into an ambush. As I made it to the front of the column, I could see Brooks was having none of that. He had halted the column far back from the roadblock, which was visible in the distance.
He had pulled in the scouts and had alpha company formed up for a fight. The ground in this part of the zone had transitioned from low grass to mostly being barren; there were patches of plants and the occasional stunted tree struggling to grow in the rocky soil, but not much else. There was little cover at first glance, but closer inspection revealed that the uneven ground could be used to hide a substantial force in several places.
“Sir, not sure who those folks are manning the roadblock. They’ve noticed us and have raised the flag of parley,” Brooks advised, motioning for a pair of soldiers to hoist me up on a shield so I could survey the scene better.
A barricade made from piled rocks stretched across the twenty-foot-wide roadway, extending another fifty feet to either side. I spotted several figures behind the barricade. The wh
ite flag with a yellow circle was displayed, held aloft by a figure standing atop the makeshift barricade.
Flag of Parley: These symbols are displayed by those wishing to speak with others before a potential battle. Many times, conflicts can be resolved with words before bloodshed is necessary. To break a flag of parley is considered a grave offense.
“Let’s go see who the neighbors are, Sergeant. I’ll take third platoon from bravo and one of the runesmiths with me. Get everyone else ready to move if they prove hostile.” Brooks nodded and began issuing orders. If these folks wanted to parley, I was willing to talk before fighting, but as far as I was concerned, this road was owned by the Imperium and would not be blocked by random forces.
The platoon formed up, one squad wide and five deep. I took my place with the squad in front and had the runesmith directly behind me in the second squad.
“Runesmith, have a fortification rune ready for us if things go south. If they do turn out to be hostile, we’ll hold the line and wait for the rest of the legion to join up,” I ordered as we marched toward the roadblock.
Closing in on the makeshift wall, I could make out the figure on the wall in more detail. The figure wore a mixture of chain and leather armor. The chain was stained a neutral color, preventing it from glinting in the sun. The armor setup would provide for ease of movement but not nearly as much protection as the armor my own soldiers wore.
The bow slung over the figure’s shoulder was longer than most I had seen in-game, perhaps adding a bit of range and damage from a standard weapon. To complement the bow, the approaching warrior wore a steel longsword with an ornate hilt, as well as a long dagger with an oversized guard on the opposite hip. A leather helm with steel reinforcements sat atop his head. It was good for deflecting a blow, but not offer a whole lot of protection in general.
I couldn’t get a good count of the number against us, but there didn’t appear to be more than a reinforced platoon based on the size of the area they occupied. This close, I could see that the shoulder-high barricade fully enclosed a space the shape of a large rectangle. The wall was obviously improvised yet seemed sturdy enough to keep out all but a determined attacker.
Limitless Lands Book 4: Opposition (A LitRPG Adventure) Page 10