Chapter 48: Pursuit
"Right everyone, take off your robes," it is admittedly a strange first command and he can see the scepticism written on his new subordinates' faces which makes what he says next even more difficult, "Once you have stripped I want you to chop up a few thralls and smear yourselves in their gore, put their armour on and take up their weapons. For this point onward you all have to move and look like thralls."
"Why?" Buer asks.
It is a fair question and deserves a straight answer.
An answer that Forcas has no trouble giving, "Think back to the war. Think back to what our enemies did every time one of Soulblighter's armies fell. What did they do?"
Forcas is met with nothing but silence. Half of these children have never fought even a minor skirmish let alone an entire campaign. They are untested and to make matters worse many of them are idiots. It might be rude to say but it is the truth.
Thankfully not all of them are children or idiots.
Leonard understands and quickly comes to his old friend's aid, "They kill the mages."
"Exactly," the old man nods, "Every battle, every skirmish, any competent foe will aim for the mages when given a chance. So what do we do?"
Flaga grins in triumph, "Oh! We are going to hide. If we don't look like mages then they will not be able to find us!"
"Precisely!" Forcas pats the girl, young enough to be his granddaughter, on the head and she positively beams, "So everyone, get to changing quickly. Help one another if necessary, this needs to be convincing."
The young necromancers set to work with not a little giggling and blushing as the old men withdraw to discuss their plan.
"Now what?" the younger mage breaks the silence, his tone flat and largely disinterested.
Forcas has never been able to understand that, the way Leonard stays so calm even when his life is at stake, "We will need to split our forces. We will need a rearguard to protect us from the fort and we will need an advance party in place to give us warning of any enemy ambushes-"
"You think they have soldiers outside of the fort already?" Leonard frowns slightly at the thought, it cast a deeper shadow over his already gloomy countenance.
"Possibly," the older mage shrugs, "This area is riddled with old tunnels but what really concerns me is the Enemy himself, not his apprentices in the fort. If he still has that army of horrors out there somewhere we need to do everything possible to avoid it, we-" he exhales sharply, pain shooting up his body.
"Are you going to be alright my friend?" his tone; was that a hint of genuine concern in his old companion's voice?
It brings a smile to the old man's face, "No, I don't suppose I will be," he lets out a pair of short, sharp laughs, "Listen, I wanted to tell you before I told the rest. I am going to lead a group toward the fort to delay the enemy. Just for an hour or so, hold them off then slip away. That sort of thing, you know?"
Ah, that cool look his second gives him.
It really is a shame that, at moments like this, Leonard is not a stupid man.
"Forcas, my dearest friend," his companion begins, "I am afraid I can not let you rob me of this honour. I will stay and lead the attack."
The old man grins in spite of himself, "As the current commander though, I am afraid I will have to pull rank and choose this most prestigious assignment for myself," he pats his 'young' friend on the shoulder in consolation.
Leonard smiles slyly at him, the first smile he has seen from the man in over forty years, "Forcas, answer me plainly, of the two of us who can run faster?"
Forcas grudgingly answers, "You can."
"Correct," his friend's surprising smile spreads, "And of the two of us, who is better at commanding others."
Forcas sighs, "Now really Leonard."
"Ah, ah, ah," the younger mage insists as he gently moves his friend's hand from his shoulder, "Who is a better commander? Who can lead this army though what will be very rough days?"
"I-" he begins.
"Yes, you," Leonard positively beams, "You are the one they will listen to. I will take what thralls and soulless we can spare, I will take a handful of novices to help control them and I will lead this attack."
There is a finality to his friend's words. For all that the old mage desperately desires to argue he can not. It is decided for them both now. He turns, twists slightly, and stops. He stands there, transfixed, staring into his comrade's eyes.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" his second enquires with just a hint of impatience, "We both have a great deal to do and no time to do it in."
"I, just, I thought there might be something more to say, but-" he replies in a slight daze.
"Well I can not think of anything so just save it for when we meet again," his colleague extends a hand, "A hour, two at the most, I promise."
"A hour, two at the most?" the repeats the words, "Alright, I'll see you then."
He embraces this man, his friend, then he bids him goodbye, turns and walks away.
Both of them know they will never meet again.
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"Now this is fun!" the dwarf hollers over the wailing of the wind.
The dwarven love of explosives, and by extension explosions, is legendary and these dwarves are doing everything they can to live up to that reputation.
It is exciting, she will grant them that; a little insane, sure, but also very exciting and made all the more so by the fact that this is her first real command as part of the Lost.
She has no intention of letting her employers down, her friends down- They are her friends right? Maybe? Possibly? Or perhaps they are just using her, it would not be the first time. She gives her head a shake, either way she has no intention of failing someone that is relying on her, not again at least, not like the girl...
"Lyssa!" Otto shouts, "Where is the next target?"
The Arrow captain snaps her back to reality.
She is currently floating in a dwarven balloon overtop of an army of undead while her crew throw explosives and fires arrows into the host below. It is just a shame that things have not gone quite to plan.
The first little wrinkle they encountered was the lack of clear targets. At first it seemed like there were no enemy mages in the retreating columns. Of course there were plenty of them, she could feel them, but they were in hiding. It took her only a moment to realize what they had done and adjust her plan.
She reaches out with her mind and attempts to lock onto another necromancer. Her own experience in the field helps immensely with this task, she is able to determine not just who is casting but roughly what they are casting as well which has allowed her to pinpoint the most powerful mages controlling the most important parts of the horde. Her first two strikes went beautifully and have put a tremendous amount of strain on the enemy's command structure. If she can just take out a few more... ah, there is her next target.
"Otto! Third column, fifth row, see that thrall with the misshapen hands? That is our next target! " she declares with glee.
The balloon drifts steadily toward their prey as the crew ready their weapons.
They unload in a single terrifying volley, once more delivering death from far beyond their opponents' range. Only this time it is different, their projectiles do not land and instead are blown clear of the enemy formation. Someone down there just cast a spell she is intimately familiar with.
Someone down there cast a Strong Wind spell.
"Otto! Another volley!" she commands, doing her best impression of Derryth, even if it is blocked again she will at least be able to get a lock on the enemy spellcaster.
Again they unleash a volley and again it is blown wide but now she has the target. Directly below her, moving with the balloon. This will be a problem. The simplest way through it would be to exhaust her opponent, keep up a stream of fire that would burn through her reserves as quickly as possible. It would eat up a lot of her power though. Alternatively she could try out her aphids though it is likely that they too would be blown off course. No, this is not a problem she can easily solve on her own, but then maybe she does not have to.
First she will need to apply a little pressure, "Otto, get the men to steadily bomb the area below us but only a few projectiles at a time. We want the enemy to exhaust themselves."
The slow stream of fire has the desired effect as the enemy is forced to maintain a constant wind between their undead and her balloon. In many ways this is no different than what she has to do to keep the balloon out of the enemy's probable spell range. However she has a generous supply of energon cubes to help her. The enemy should burn out far more quickly.
At least that is the plan.
Five minutes pass and still the enemy has not burnt out. Her eagles scouts quickly identify the source of the enemy's longevity. A number of thralls have slowly wandered up to her target over the last five minutes. These must be some of the lesser necromancers, they are providing the power necessary for her adversary to continue casting.
What she needs is a distraction, Berty and his team or the Stoneheim reinforcements. She calls to Aquila, throwing her voice out into the wind, and the bird promptly responds. One quick message later and hopefully this deadlock will be resolved.
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"So Lys wants us to hit a very particular mage eh?" his new employers' tactician is a curious sort but he has been quite useful so far.
Kaf scratches his head, "So how you suppose we are going to do that?"
He can think of a few ways to do it but would prefer to hear the tactician's take on things. He is still not quite sure about these people and every little piece of information might prove useful.
"Well, we could set up a bomb built just for her, something that would explode based on the winds above it? Maybe we could float it in on the air just so, so it hits her if she casts... hmm..." the little man shakes his head a couple times, "Maybe we need to think bigger, maybe- No wait! Scratch that! I got it! Oh! Oh, this is going to be a masterpiece!"
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Your firebolt and Thaïs' energy bolt twine together in their usual dance, they feed off one another as they crash into the enemy formation. They are joined in their flight by dozens of arrows and the odd mortar shell, not terribly accurate but devastating all the same.
You had not expected to meet the enemy here, the valley you are fighting in is wide which favours your enemy but also quite long which has allowed you to launch a number of quick strikes interspersed with a general rolling retreat.
When the battle began you were outnumbered maybe two to one but the enemy simply lacks the mobility and firepower to properly strike at you.
You launch another firebolt at the enemy formation which quickly pairs up with another bolt from your friend, the two of you are getting quite good at that as well. Soon you will be almost as comfortable working with one another on elemental spells as you are with mental spells.
Another pass, another firebolt.
In truth this fight is rather dull, the enemy is large but lacks the sort of elite soldiers or comprehensive strategy necessary to really pose a threat to you. In fact you should be able to win this fight without taking a single casualty.
Then, as if on cue, things get interesting.
The enemy commander has been quiet so far and now you know why as his entire army is enveloped in darkness.
You continue to fire into the enemy battle line but without any real way to see your target you are going to have a much harder time-
A javelin whizzes past your head. He must have rolled his soulless forward as soon as the darkness spell took effect.
Hámundr pulls you back as your chariot and those of your friends cycle out in favour of more 'expendable' teams.
'Expendable', the term does not sit well with you but all of your captains agreed. When in doubt, send in the rank and file.
Your replacement team, now a few chariots smaller, swings past your position. Most members suffer from minor or serious javelin wounds.
This has to end now and you think you have an idea, "Thaïs! Can you feel the enemy commander?"
"Yes Derryth, what do you have in mind," she replies without taking her eyes off the billowing cloud before you.
"We light him up followed by a mental assault to lay him out," she nods as you give the instructions.
"Uttu!" you call out to the girl, "Use your flare, center right, aim for the rear!"
She gives you a single curt nod and launches her arrow.
It lights the darkness as it speeds over the enemy line. You will have an instant as it passes your foe, not long enough for a proper elemental spell but long enough to attack his mind. If you can get him to drop his spell you should be able to destroy him.
You open with an assault to throw him off balance. It catches him cold and sends him reeling as Thaïs follows you in, she pulls a name from his mind, Forcas, and throws out a suggestion.
This Forcas hates him, has always hated him, he wants him dead.
A poor guess it seems as your target's mind immediately rejects the thought and lashes out at your colleague.
Alright, if hate did not work then perhaps love, friendship and duty might.
You hit him again, this time with a compulsion, this Forcas of his needs him. He is dying, alone, with none to mourn him, your target must go to him, now, there can be no delay.
Oh, now that got him.
His mind tries to bolt, he forces it to stay.
Your friend hits him one final time as the darkness closes back in around him. She hits him with a beautifully crafted, false memory. Forcas is dead, he has failed his friend, he is lost, doomed, fallen.
You think you catch a tear as the darkness collapses in on him.
With a clear shot now you each launch your greater elemental bolts. They scream together and rip and tear into one another, coiling, constricting, spinning together they crash into your enemy. He does not really burn, nor does he melt, he dissolves, he evaporates, disintegrates and the force of your spells blast through him and wipe out most of his command staff.
You smile, satisfied, not much to do now except wipe out his fracturing army and push on toward the main enemy force and your friends. Hopefully they are managing without you.
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Flaga takes his hand to steady herself, poor girl is terribly stressed from casting for the last fifteen minutes without pause. Still it must be done, with no way to reach the enemy, tucked up in the clouds, there is little they can do save endure.
The bulk of their army is still intact, the majority of their necromancers are also alive, if they can just get far enough to the east hopefully the enemy will give up as the risk of becoming trapped increases. They will give up, they have to give up. The alternative, that they are all doomed, is simply unacceptable. He just needs to think of a way out of this.
The stream of projectiles pours down upon them as Flaga burns through another novice. At the rate they are exhausting necromancers their next move might matter little, they are rapidly approaching that point at which the army will break apart and after that it will be every mage for themselves.
There has to be a way out of this, "Flaga, how high can you throw me with your wind spells?"
"Not high enough to reach them," the girl responds in between laboured breaths, "You are too heavy, too big."
Too big? Too big...
He grins, "What if I were smaller or lighter? Could you throw me high enough then?"
"Sure, ah, probably," the girl replies, uncertain as she strains against the enemy.
"Alright," Forcas waves to Deumus, "Girl! Come here!"
She shuffles over, doing her best to behave like a thrall and run at the same time, "What do you need!" she calls out over the blasting wind.
"Can you make me lighter? Or smaller?" he demands of her as she draws near.
"Lighter! I can do lighter," she nods quickly.
"Then do it girl! And Flaga," she stares up at him, "Throw me high."
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He has been a great many things in his time.
Some spectacular and some quite ordinary.
Some glamorous and some decidedly dirty.
He has been an explorer.
Then a storyteller.
An educator.
An inventor.
A warrior.
A soldier.
A veteran.
A dissident.
A criminal.
A priest.
A spy.
A mercenary.
A tutor.
And finally a potted fern.
It is, when taken together, a rather impressive list and today he will add one more entry to that rather impressive list.
For today he will be a thrall.
One amongst hundreds. His pop always used to say that if you want to hide in the desert then you need to pass for sand, well, if the enemy can do it then why can't he? So he will, so he has, and they have not noticed him at all. He is so close now, he will have one shot at this, one shot to break the enemy's control over the undead or face instant annihilation.
It is truly thrilling, slowly he reaches into his 'borrowed' armour, carefully he withdraws the grenade, he pulls the pin, and he tosses it.
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He is going to die, that much is clear to him now and it is funny but he does not even really fear it anymore.
It is the one thing he has been most terrified of, the one thing he has tried so desperately to avoid for the last ninety three years. Now though, when he is staring it in the face, when the ground is rushing towards him at top speed, he does not feel much of anything at all.
The girls did their part, Deumus made him light as a feather, Flaga threw him as high as he would go, he readied his spell, determined to kill the enemy mage even if it cost him his life. He could do that at least, he was certain of it.
Then, halfway to his target the wind that was propelling him failed and he returned to his natural weight.
So now he is falling and when he hits the ground that will be it. Technically the fall might not kill him, it is a slight possibility but one all the same. Does not much matter though, the enemy have maintained their steady barrage, seconds after hitting the ground the enemy's cocktails will hit him and that will for a certainty kill him.
Curious, he turns to watch and immediately recognizes what went wrong, somehow the girls are dead. All that remains is ash and smoke, the enemy killed them, magic perhaps, maybe those archmages finally decided to make an appearance, if that is the case... he supposes he should be angry, or scared, or jealous but he simply can not muster the emotion. He supposes that he should feel remorse, that he should renounce the life of misery and suffering he has led but to hell with it, he does not feel remorseful either. He did what he had to, no, what he wanted to and he lost. It does not have to be any more complicated than that.
Still, it would have been nice to win.
It would have been nice to see his friend again.
It would have been nice to-
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As far as victories go, this one was fairly absolute. With their leaders gone the undead army dissolved into hundreds of small pockets and fragments.
You have established a number of strike teams under Argus' general command to properly crush as many of these small bands as possible and the Champion seems confident that you will be able to destroy most of them before any sort of serious support arrives.
Finally, you can safely say that the siege of Blackrock is over. The Watcher's strength in the north seems to be broken and you have earned a much needed rest. A rest you are not likely to get as Calaeno, one of Lyssa's eagles, arrives with a pair of letters addressed to you and Thaïs.
The first bears the seal of the Royal House of Albrecht, it is brief and not in a hand you recognize but that is not terribly surprising. The King has a number of scribes and he likely dictates most of his letters.
To Derryth and Thaïs
It is our hope that this letter find you well. We have succeeded in rallying our loyal lords to your cause and military aid should now be forthcoming.
Expect our army, led by Lords Welf and Hesse to arrive within a day or two. It is our deepest hope that you can hold out till then.
Should you require any further aid do not hesitate to write.
Albrecht, King of All the Dwarves
"Well, that is underwhelming," your friend remarks, "Though I do wonder what the situation is like in the capital at this very moment."
"I suspect we will find out soon enough," you reply with a shrug, "And I doubt we will like it."
The second letter is far more interesting than the first. It is written upon thinly pressed copper in liquid gold, the letter is sealed with a giant platinum M that shifts in the light and gives the illusion of being on fire.
"I wonder who this is from," you wave the letter with a laugh, "That man just does not do subtle."
You pop the letter open to the sound of horns, actual horns, and let out a slight groan.
To My Dear Associates,
I must say your work against that army was quite impressive, though your reliance on explosives does diminish the achievement just a little. A true mage would not have needed such tricks, a true mage would have bested his opponents in the open field but you are young and you still have time to learn.
Regardless of your methods you have my thanks for disposing of the remnants I sent you. They would have been quite troublesome if left to their own devices and so as a reward and a way to even the scales so to speak I will give you a little advice.
Do not trust the dwarf king's words, do not return to Myrgard, instead I recommend you either leave the Kingdom or if you are feeling adventurous you might wish to march your forces three days journey to the southeast and wait. I would love to see you again and catch up a little.
Yours Truly,
Mazzarin
It seems you have a few options to pursue if you so choose.
A) March out to meet the dwarven army. The sooner you link up with these reinforcements, the sooner you can get an update on the situation in the rest of the kingdom. It would also save time if you can convince them to join in your search for your missing people and any survivors of the Watcher's host.
B) Return to the Fort and help map the tunnels. The more people looking for Bari and Neel the sooner you will find them, one way or the other.
C) Join your strike teams in hunting down the remnants of the Watcher's host. The more you kill now the less you have to worry about later.
D) Return to the Fort and explore the secret staircase. Your negotiations with the rodent's of the Fort have led to a number of interesting developments. One of which was the discovery of a secret passage in the fort. Now might be a good time to explore it.
E) Rally what forces you can and march southeast as per the instructions in Mazzarin's letter. You are curious as to what you will find.
F) "Our 3 Mages plus some good escort go for D) while the rest work on B)."
G)"- The grenadiers under Otto's command unload Lyssa, load up Pathfinder's crates, and bomb the remnants of the enemy army to oblivion.
- The Arrows under Ceannard's and Argus' command mop up the survivors, supported by chariots (as means of transportation only) and a mortar to help them get through this without casualties.
- Do not pursue too far. After inflicting maximum damage and destroying the vast majority of the army, have them return to the fort and join the search for our friends. We don't need every thrall dead.
- Thais, Derryth and Lyssa are to lead the search, aided by Blackrock troops, Hamundr, Astrid and Ori. And our rat volunteers, of course.
- Have the Pathfinders and Berty help wherever they are more needed."
H) "Derryth, girls and spell casting mice to D
Thais, slow forces and part of arrows as backup to B (Ring Heal if either Bari or best tracker were in need of medical attention)
Lyssa, Berthy, Argus, pathfinders, chariots and mobile forces to little undead hunting game [one eagle here, Argus and pathfinders are occupied so we can investigate secrets privately (they are part o king forces alter all)]
Rest of arrows as fort garrison in case of new arrivals."
I) Freeform. If you want to do something more complicated (split your core group for example) then write it in here.
2. You can send out your eagles to contact one or all of the following groups:
A) You will send out eagles (choose as many as you like, provided you have the eagles for it):
i. You contact Mayer. You need to know what is happening in the capital, and he is the only person who had been frank with you so far. You will try to discreetly receive an update on the situation from him. You will also request information about your finances and investments.
ii. You contact Albrecht. You need to inform him that the undead army has been broken and receive an update on what is happening in the capital. If there is a pressing need for the army to help Stoneheim, it is not too late for him to redirect the forces there.
iii. You send an eagle southeast, to where the letter allegedly sent by Mazzarin said you should go. You are curious as to what is going to happen there.
iv. "Send an eagle to search for the army supposedly heading our way, and if they find it, contact Lords Welf and Hesse to inform them that the undead threat is dealt with. Request an update from them, too."
v. Send a second eagle to Albrecht via another route.
B) You do not send out the eagles.
