Let’s do it, then.
First, the Captain. Predictably, the system offered me the choice of two candidates: Droy the Fang and Laosh the Shaman. This was a no-brainer.
Congratulations! Your army now has a Captain! Make sure you teach him everything you know so that he becomes your faithful aide on your way to glory!
I grinned with pleasure, studying the new golden symbol shaped as two crossed swords next to Droy’s name.
This was fair. He deserved the honor like nobody else. With all due respect to Laosh, I couldn’t entrust the post to him. And if the truth were known, he might not even have liked it...
I was about to move to the Sergeants when I heard Droy’s sarcastic whisper behind my back,
“Are you doing your magic again instead of sleeping?”
“Yeah,” I replied mechanically, then paused, thinking. What had the message said about teaching Droy “everything I knew”?
I reached into my bag and produced the three scrolls. “You see, I bought these from a vendor. They look very old. I don’t think he knew how old they really were.”
I offered the scrolls to my freshly-minted Captain Droy.
He opened them and began to study the script as if system restrictions didn’t even exist.
The system kept mum as he read them. The change of expressions on my friend’s face was the only clue to what was going on. Droy frowned, grunted, kneaded his beard and scratched the back of his head, showing all signs of some serious intellectual activity.
Finally, all three scrolls had been read, studied and even tasted. The moment he handed them back to me, the system finally informed me of its verdict,
Congratulations! You’ve shared knowledge with your Captain!
Excellent. Now we were cooking!
“So what do you think?” I asked Droy.
He’d changed a lot in the last week. He seemed taller... fitter even. Or was it his new armor? I really couldn’t tell.
“Strange writings,” he said, looking at the fire. “The first two scrolls we can definitely use. Not sure about the third one, but I know someone who might be interested in it. Do I understand correctly that this is secret knowledge not to be shared with strangers?”
“That’s right. This knowledge is the property of our clan.”
“Well said,” he suppressed a smile. “In the morning, I’ll start training the warriors.”
“Good,” I said as my heart filled with joy.
Actually... “There’s one more thing... Captain.”
“Tell me.”
His new title didn’t seem to have flustered him in the slightest. He’d just accepted it as his due.
“You’ll need assistants to help you do everything you’re planning to do,” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll appoint a few Sergeants in the morning.”
The moment he said it, a new message appeared before my eyes,
Warning! Are you sure you want to delegate the choice of junior officers to the Captain?
Yes/No
You bet! I was a quick learner. Droy knew better indeed. With his skill and knowledge of his people (our earlier conversation about hunting and camp-keeping was proof enough) he certainly knew all the best candidates.
That was it, then. I pressed Yes.
The system promptly replied,
Function delegated to the Captain.
And another one in its wake,
Congratulations! You’ve successfully assigned your army’s command! The 10-warrior squads will be formed automatically.
Now your troops can engage in Military Exercises!
What, already? That was quick! Then again, why was I surprised? In order to make decisions, Droy didn’t need any charts or interfaces.
I glanced over the list of sergeants’ names.
All of our team was there. Which was right. I would have done the same. A few of the candidates were yet unknown to me. I needed to get to know them better. Droy must have had a good reason to promote them.
And what about these Military Exercises?
I hurried to read the description. Aha. This worked similar to a repeatable quest which my troops could complete every other day, receiving 15 pt. of Discipline.
What a strange feeling. Even though I hadn’t quite worked it all out yet, I was excited and impatient to see what else the future had in store for us.
Chapter Eleven
WARNING! THE WEST GROTTO had remained unclaimed for many a century until finally it became home to a colony of Thorn Rats.
Warning! This location can be too dangerous for players under level 290. Please turn back.
I turned around and cast an appraising look over our ranks. “Let’s just hope we’re good enough.”
Several dozen eyes stared closely at me. They betrayed no fear: if anything, they were focused. Impatient, even.
These were the warriors Droy had picked personally.
When rumors of the upcoming dungeon raid had spread around the camp, we’d had to fight off all the applicants. If the truth were known, I’d very nearly agreed to forming a larger group. Still, having talked it over with Droy, Laosh and the sergeants, we’d decided it would be better to first send in a small recon team, just to work out what we were dealing with. And then we’d see.
We’d carefully weighed all the pros and cons until we arrived at a number of thirty. Thirty of the choicest warriors, the clan’s elite, all levels 280+.
As for our formation... the very first Military Exercise had shown us that the gorgeous new gear wasn’t enough to call the Calteans an army. Still, they’d managed to complete the first round of the quest — mainly thanks to Droy’s unquestionable authority as Captain.
And as for the quest itself... at first I’d thought it might have been something truly special, like a campaign against a lone Noctean group, for instance. Still, it had turned out to be much more mundane. All the Calteans had to do was split into two groups and beat the heck out of each other using the formations they’d studied.
In the end, they did earn their 15 pt. Discipline, but what had it cost them! There wasn’t a single warrior who hadn’t received some kind of minor injury. We even had a few broken limbs. Still, in the end I didn’t see a single shadow of doubt or disgruntlement on their faces.
Funnily enough, Amai and his bodyguards had arrived just in time to watch the last few minutes of our first Military Exercise. They’d delivered the promised supplies in exchange for our “gray” weapons and tools, and stood on a nearby hill watching the new Red Owls in training.
You should have seen their faces. At least Amai and his alter ego Pike tried to keep their expressions in check — but the others didn’t even try to conceal their excitement.
I could understand them. I was still under the impression from our Shield Wall training. My guys’ last scuffle had been especially impressive. Imagine fifty heavy soldiers marching in lockstep. The earth groaned under their feet. The clangor of steel. The calls of their bugles. The rattling of shields. Their battle axes, glinting predatorily in the blinding sunrays. The clapping of their bowstrings. The hissing of many arrows through the air. All of it happening in synch as if controlled by an invisible hand. Impressive? — You could say that!
Amai’s eyes filled with childish admiration — and just a tad of insecurity which lasted but a few moments, replaced by indignation. A proud clan leader couldn’t afford even a moment of weakness.
In all modesty, I was more than pleased to showcase my new Red Owls to the arrogant Northern Wolves leader. His allusion to a “handful of Caltean hunters” still smarted. Watching their faces was well worth it, I tell you!
Now Amai was shaking with excitement. No wonder. Descending to the Forbidden City dungeons was an adventure any warrior could only dream of. This was the stuff of legends and ballads.
I was happy too because it meant we’d have a strong shaman with us. Even though his group wasn’t subordinate to us, we could use his help, that’s for sure.
&
nbsp; Pike had hand-picked their best fighters. One of the Wolves must have spilled the beans about the upcoming raid because the entire Wolves clan competed for the right to escort their leader to the dungeon. Just imagine: fifteen hundred people all eager to join a group of a few dozen simply because they’d hate to stay behind. Did we really expect them to sit it out in the camp with children and females while their leader was busy exploring the ancient dungeons? No way!
In the end they’d added thirty warriors to our raid, not counting Amai and Pike themselves. Judging by the Wolves’ sly grins and the greedy glint in their eyes, it wasn’t really their leader’s safety they were worried about. They just couldn’t wait to lay their hands on the fabled treasures of the Forbidden City.
Someone might say it was stupid of me. They’d say I shouldn’t have been squandering the legendary riches by sharing them with our contrarious new friends. I beg to disagree. A joint raid was bound to cement our reluctant alliance.
That wasn’t the problem. Discipline was. And I’m not talking about the game stat.
It took me ten minutes of watching Amai’s men to conclude that they were bound to run into problems.
It wasn’t that they didn’t obey orders. Oh yes, they did. Pike ran his team with an iron hand. It was their ability to execute his orders that worried me.
Let me explain. What’s going to happen if a factory foreman tells a janitor to do a machine tool operator’s job? This janitor may even be a well-organized guy, disciplined and hard-working. He’d approach the task in all seriousness and might even learn how to switch the complex machine on. Over time, he might even master it — but definitely not straight away. His first results would probably be pathetic. Without proper knowledge, experience and qualifications, the guy is bound to screw it up big time.
Here it was the same. The Wolves were all highly disciplined and responsible people — and still they had no idea of proper warfare. Only from watching our training had they gleaned anything about proper battle formation.
So basically, I had a bad feeling about Amai’s group. Besides, they couldn’t boast much in terms of gear, either. Next to my well-equipped warriors they looked especially shabby.
I’d shared my concerns with Droy. His reply was calm and simple. We had to worry about our own warriors, he said, and let their commanders take care of theirs.
You couldn’t argue but still... If, God forbid, anything happened to Amai, our alliance with the Wolves would go belly up. I had to do everything to make sure he came out of the dungeon alive and in one piece.
* * *
Based on the formations’ bonuses, we decided to use the Shield Wall. That way we’d have protection from both physical and magic attacks as well as an improved small arms damage.
Crym’s squad was in the first line. His guys were the hardest to crack. All of them were ex-Black Axes: this gray-bearded giant had gathered around himself all the strength of his old clan. The mere sight of them sent shivers down your spine.
The second line was formed by the squad of Orman the Bear. At first glance, they didn’t differ much from Crym’s men but still they were marginally lower in levels, their powerful frames slightly less bulky.
We followed in their wake: ten archers headed by Seet the Burly, with Droy as our captain. And last but not least, His Illustrious Highness the Commander General, a.k.a. humble me complete with my little menagerie.
Arrum Red Beard had completely recovered from the arrow wound he’d received by the River Quiet and was impatient to get back into action. Although he’d been given a squad of his own, he was quite eager to join us as a common archer as long as he could go to the dungeons with the rest of his friends.
Horm the Turtle had been promoted to sergeant too, but being more levelheaded, he’d obeyed Droy’s personal request to stay behind in the camp.
Calteans! No amount of military ranks and subordination could sever the ties of kinship between them. Obeying orders was all good and well but their relationship with the person who’d issued the order was much more important to them. Also, I’d already noticed that Droy tended to single Horm out among the rest, using every opportunity to leave him in charge. Based on our reputation rankings, I could safely say that we were potentially looking at our next Captain. That’s provided our ranks would somehow miraculously swell.
Shorve the Hasty who’d missed his chance to participate in our battle with the werewolves was chomping at the bit, impatient to see some action. He was still angry with us, thinking we’d stripped him of his well-deserved glory. We, on the other hand, were amazed at his own valor: he’d spent several nights trekking through the Icy Woods taking a message to Laosh — and he’d survived!
He had Observational Skills, Stealth, Pathfinding and Hunting all maxed out: a perfect combination for a scout. What could I say? Also, he was the only one who hadn’t received a squad to command. It might actually have been for the better. Don’t know about Droy but personally, I had some quite far-reaching plans regarding this particular Caltean.
In the meantime, I’d posted him to Seet’s squad. Later I’d have to think how to use him for our best advantage.
Droy’s voice distracted me from my musings. “It’s time.”
I turned to him, still pensive, and nodded.
The formation was complete. The raid was ready to set off.
Droy the Fang stood next to me, eyeballing the sergeants. Although he himself was already a captain, he wouldn’t have missed this raid for the world. Which made me quite happy.
I looked at the disorderly crowd of Calteans who’d gathered to see the raid on its way. There wasn’t a single woman among them.
“Where are your females?” I asked Droy softly. “Don’t they want to say goodbye to their husbands and sons?”
Amai who stood to my left replied instead, “This is our custom. Only men should see warriors leave.”
“They don’t need to see all the tears and stuff,” Droy added. “They had plenty of time watching their womenfolk cry last night. But not when they set off. In the morning, it’s up to their grandfathers, fathers, brothers and comrades to wish them a good journey and a glorious fight. Now, greeting them back is a woman’s job. The warriors’ hearts rejoice at seeing their loved ones...”
Oh well. They might actually be right, of course. But as for me... If I could only see the face of my loved one, I’d feel rejoiced already. And knowing Sveta, she wouldn’t have minded joining the raid, either.
Whoever had written the history of the Calteans had grossly underestimated human nature. Which was a shame indeed.
For a brief moment, the crowd fell silent. Old Laosh raised his hands to the skies, begging the spirits to bless our raid and deliver us home in one piece.
As he prayed, something clenched my heart. I remembered the last time I’d had to say goodbye to my girls. Sveta crying; Christa’s happy eyes... I too had promised to come back in one piece.
What’s wrong with me just lately?
Inconspicuously I doubled my hands into fists, taking a surreptitious deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. I seemed to be feeling a bit better.
The moment Laosh had finished praying, I received a system message informing me of a 4-hour protection raid buff. Well done, old man. Today we needed all the help we could get.
It was time to say our goodbyes. The raid members grinned and cracked jokes as if they weren’t leaving on a perilous journey. It was easier that way. The remaining Calteans waved their hands, wishing us luck and plenty of loot. The warriors waved back, asking them to take care of their families.
Laosh gave me a bear hug which defied his age. “You’re obliged to come back!” he said with a confident smile on his weathered, furrowed face. “And you will!”
He stepped aside. One by one my other clanmates walked over to me, wishing me luck and giving me more bear hugs, asking me to come back safe, once again very nearly driving me to tears. I was only going on an instance raid, for crissakes, not descending into the Infer
no!
“Come back safe,” Laosh repeated. Was it my imagination or had I just seen a tear glisten in the corner of his intelligent, forever serious eyes?
I smiled back to him. “I’m afraid I’ll have to.”
Chapter Twelve
“THREE MONSTERS,” Shorve reported the results of his brief recon mission.
He’d only been away for a few minutes. That meant that the mobs were real close.
“What can you tell us about them?” Droy asked.
“They’re a good head and shoulders lower than myself,” Shorve began. “Skinny as hell. But the teeth in those jaws!”
“Are they bipeds?” I asked.
“Yeah... sort of.”
“Do they have weapons?”
“No. Just teeth and claws.”
“What else?” Droy asked.
Shorve faltered.
“Speak up,” I told him.
He cast me a sideways glance. “I’m not sure. You told me not to get too close.”
I nodded. He’d done the right thing. I hadn’t wanted him to aggro them. We didn’t need casualties right at the beginning of the campaign.
“I got the impression they had no eyes,” Shorve said.
We exchanged glances.
“That’s normal,” Crym said. “Most underground monsters are deaf and blind. They’ll still know when there’s quarry nearby.”
“How do they do it?” Amai asked in amazement.
“They can sense the vibrations of the rocks,” Crym replied. “I’m pretty sure they know about our arrival already.”
I didn’t think so. In that case, Shorve would have already brought back a nice little train.
“Prepare for action!” Droy commanded.
The Red Owls interlocked their shields and readied their spears. The archers raised their bows.
The Wolves got moving too. Amai closed his eyelids, whispering something. Pike stepped forward with a scimitar in each hand, covering his master.
The Twilight Obelisk (Mirror World Book #4) LitRPG series Page 12