MERCENARY CONTRACTS
[X] Petty Lords: The legions of so called "princes", "barons", "dukes" and in one memorable case "Bovine Emperor" that populate the region are all busy fighting one another for a myriad of stupid and petty reasons. Get to work extracting as much gold as possible from this state of affairs. Easy Difficulty Mercenary Mission.
Requires a Platoon, specify which Tokubetsu is leading it.
Gain 5k-10k in Gold, and experience for all units involved.
Chance of Success: 90/70/50%, Takes One year.
Petty Lords: 45 + Prema Martial (14) = 59 maximum reward, lowest casualties.
I attest with this blood seal and signature that this report was written personally by I, Kirus Sabaku the Tokubetsu Jounin commander of the 4
th Company's A Platoon. The following is a post action report written to detail the series of actions carried out by my men and I for the past year after being deployed by Commander in Chief, Rayiys Kannika Sabaku and the Jounin commander of the Fourth Company Prema Sabaku with a wide mandate that I shall place below:
"With the power granted to me as Rayiys of the Sabaku no Kin clan I, after consultation with my Jounin council, am assigning this force the duty of going forth into the surrounding nations to offer their skills and talents to the local populations for whatever missions they may offer. The Platoon alongside their base pay, which will not be taxed during the duration of this deployment, will be given a commission of each mission achieved that will be given to them after the clan's taxes are collected."
As soon as the order was received my unit and I mobilized to prepare for our deployment over the course of two weeks as we picked out barracks, prepared equipment, collected rations and organized our private affairs before deploying at the beginning of the year where I decided we would best be served heading west.
The first stop during the deployment was a hamlet ruled by one of the many arrogant petty tyrants in the area that call themselves "princes". The prince hired us to liberate the livestock of a neighboring principality. The next day we offered our services to the prince we stole the cattle from to retrieve his property with his rival's as an interest.
First few weeks were spent doing missions of that nature. Petty terrorism and delinquency against hamlets with only a few hundred people with lords that seemed only inclined to subvert their neighbors but not destroy them.
Wondering why that was, my staff carried out several interviews with what passed for local officials who gave us context for the political situation. The princes in this area are currently under a treaty that prohibited outright attacks and annexations, the punishment for the first man to break it will be attacked by his peers, executed and his former territories would be divided.
Interestingly the contract did not account for, whether by mistake or design I am not sure, subterfuge and minor hostilities between the princes. In any case after making a solid if humble amount of gold we went farther west to Matorca, a small town of ten thousand souls. There we were hired and paid very well to exterminate the goblins and orcs that were too far away when the clan sterilized the area surrounding the compound.
While performing our duties the prince of the town spoke to me and explained that while he appreciated our thoroughness in removing the Greenskins, the word used to describe the goblins and orcs as a whole, he explained to me not only that the creatures reproduce through spores and that the bodies must be burned least more of their kind regrow from the corpses of their dead kin but that trying to exterminate them completely was unnecessary that the creatures are very prone to infighting and have had whole campaigns of hundreds of thousands stopped by simply killing their leader and then sitting back and watching as his subordinates tear each other apart to see who will be the next boss.
This information intrigued me and my officers greatly. We decided to verify it on the field for the rest of the year as we moved even farther west to pick up work in the towns of Hinrikness, Thessos and Achaes. There I noticed the common trend of the Orcs being a problem for all of them as well which provided us opportunities to test out the knowledge we were given.
The data was extremely accurate. One particularly vivid example of it being put to work was when a Chunin killed a Goblin Shaman with a well-placed Futon Jutsu that caused him to explode. His subordinates immediately started to retreat, argue and kill each other all at once as they fought to declare themselves the leader. We also took notice that burning their corpses did make a massive difference in not just the number but quality of Greenskins that would appear later in the year.
The menaces are a self-sustaining ecosystem. From their bodies not only grow the goblins and orcs that threaten the people of the peninsula but also the working animals such as squigs that they rely upon for food. Greenskins die, when they die they release spores that will eventually become more Greenskins and squigs who will in turn fight each other, eat each other, kill each other and then produce more of each other in a never ending cycle that sees them grow larger and larger and more sophisticated with every revolution of their fungoid reproductive cycle that occurs.
It is absolutely fucking terrifying.
It is with this understanding of the threat they could eventually pose to both the clan and the region that my platoon and I decided that these creatures cannot under any circumstances be allowed to pick up steam and expand despite the bigger profit we could make by leaving their corpses unburnt so we could continue to sell our services at a premium to the beleaguered locals.
Despite the loss in theoretical income from reducing the threat we did form connections with grateful communities who saw our well paid labor bring them peace from at least one threat and that opens lots of doors for us.
Signed,
Tokubetsu Jounin Kirus Sabaku.
Off script notations:
I have nightmares now.
At first when I was told about how those creatures worked I was tempted to actually order my men into limiting the amount of damage we caused them to ensure that we would have a constant menace available for us to be hired to battle.
I… I was not tempted. I actually ordered my men to do so, several times in fact. I didn't think it would make too big of a difference, just a few more goblins and orcs causing a mess for us to clean up.
I was wrong.
We left a few hundred of them and then several months later when we were hired to clear them out there were
thousands of them. We exterminated them with ease, weak stupid slow creatures they were they didn't provide much of a fight.
But after we threw the last screaming little bastard into a roaring pyre we made out of his dead companions, we all stood there in silence as a deep atavistic dread overcame us.
These creatures must be destroyed.
They must be eradicated so completely and utterly not even ash remains or else they will destroy us all.
A few thousand goblins is nothing, but a few million of them accompanied by tens of thousands of their stronger Ork cousins, with powerful magicians amongst their numbers alongside fearsome beasts the size of summons? An unstoppable apocalypse even the greatest of Clans of our world would be crushed by.
The people of this land speak of a whole continent populated by these things to the far south. Primordial monsters spending time immemorial fighting, growing and evolving without pause that occasionally move northwards seeking to destroy everyone and everything they can reach.
May the Gods help us all.
Rewards: 10k Gold and some exp for units. More contracts become available, Elite Border Prince contacts available, some experience fighting orcs.
Exp for Units participating: 73 for Prema's First Platoon
Casualties: 0 Genin died.
[X] Merc Work; the "Dwarfs" and these so called "Vampires": There's a community of rude, vertically challenged, hairy drunk people called the "Dwarfs" in this land that are also supposedly the best craftsmen, artisans and engineers in the region. While I cannot verify any of these talents and abilities I have heard they are offering good solid gold to fight Ghouls, the undead not put to rest properly, now running around in human skin feasting upon the weak. We will do the world a service and eradicate them.
Medium Difficulty Mercenary Mission.
Gain 15K-20K in Gold, and experience for all units involved.
Chance of Success: 70/50/30%, Takes One year.
The Dwarfs: 22 + Akeem Martial (18)=40 lowest monetary reward, highest casualties
The year began with an ill omen.
An unkindness of ravens flew over my family's abode and then landed looking and peering at us as we ate. Alone that would be enough cause for concern, but my blood froze when my brother-in-law pointed out that there were 39 ravens.
Even Raizou, who likes to believe himself above such superstitions, freezes as he processes what I just told him, a steaming cup of tea held an inch from his lips. He lowers the cup to the table, the look of concern on his face making it clear our weekly shogi game is on pause.
"That is indeed a troubling thing, cousin." He leans back into his chair, fingers tented together as he thinks. "It's the campaign." He says what we're both thinking, a day after I am assigned to lead my company in support of the dwarves against the ghouls the gods sent me a forewarning of a coming tragedy.
"The two are most definitely related." I sip my tea but taste nothing, my mind rushing with half formed scenarios of what could possibly come.
Raizou's eyes are cold as the efficient machine of his mind analyses, dissects the information then provides solutions. "Should another company take this mission? The thaumaturgists in this world have exotic abilities we have never encountered before. One of them placing a hex upon your company could explain it."
I nod, it is a solid theory but one I disagree with. "I theorize the warning is that the campaign itself is going to be a bloodbath, therefore me not going will not protect anyone but simply pass off the danger to the rest of our kin."
My cousin grimaces. "Your selflessness is without a doubt one of the most admirable things about you, it is one reason why our clan treasures you and it may be the cause of your death one day." There is a deep still silence in the tent, it is contemplative yet comfortable.
Silences like these are why I liked Raizou's company, he doesn't feel the need to interrupt them. "Dying in the defense of one's family and home is the worthiest death a shinobi can have. If I am called to do so I will answer."
A cynical smirk forms on the master puppet maker's face, his voice is full of melancholy as he speaks while grabbing a shogi piece. "Well you're set on your path and won't be dissuaded from it, so let's continue with our game shall we?" He punctuates his question by slamming the piece he selected down on the board with a little more force than necessary.
I smile a bit at that, him trying to not explode at my words. "I promise to be careful."
His next words are firm. "Make sure you do so, my sisters would weep if beloved cousin Akeem wasn't around to help them take care of the cats."
Slamming my fist against my chest in a salute I stand and yell. "As you command, cousin! I will not denigrate my duties in saving the two princesses from the rambunctious fur balls!"
A snort tears out his nose at my performance. "Sit down you clown and let's finish this game, I have students to teach later after all."
I sit down again on the pillow and do exactly that, our game ends with victory to his name but only barely.
The day ends with my going home to rest for one last night before starting the process of preparing my company for our expedition.
I do not sleep a second.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few weeks later after reading ourselves and setting out we make contact with the dwarven warriors who we were hired to fight alongside. The pointman of the interaction is the commander of the expeditionary force, the former holding the title of Thane and the latter being referred to as a Throng.
Inside the comfort of the command tent Thane Gruthid Grudgebrand introduced himself and his son Mardugg Grudgebrand.
The former was as is typical for his people, stout and strong, with his face lined heavily with scars denoting experience and wrinkles showing that he learned from them alongside the long slashes of silvered cutting into his thick rusty red beard. He wears armor of a metal that shines like polished silver with runes of power etched along the chest, arms and shoulders.
His son looks much the same with the only difference being a much more youthful appearance, with his eyes being crystal blue and his hair being of a lighter crimson coloration. He is garmented in a panoply composed of extremely well crafted steel instead of the more exotic material his father wears.
"Welcome Manlings! It is good to see there are still warriors amongst your people ready to face real monsters!" I clasp his outstretched arm as he greets me.
I don't take offense to his comment, most of the sellswords in the region rightfully fear the undead. "I can't hold it against them for wanting to stay and defend their homes against such a terrible foe, my people are blessed to have spare strength to fight these creatures."
The elder dwarf releases my hand and snorts as he points towards a table with maps rolled out upon it before speaking again. "Aye my people are blessed with such an advantage as well, but the Zangunaz are a virile foe, if not destroyed at the first opportunity they will spread their rotten curse far and wide. Fighting defensively is only allowing them to advance themselves from a minor nuisance to an apocalyptic foe."
"The Ghouls of this world reproduce?" Quite the alarming bit of information to process as I sit down at the table with Kouta and Nashtim to my sides.
The Thane sits at the head of the table, his own lieutenants and son taking seats to his side, the mirth in his eyes is now gone, replaced with a dead seriousness. "Indeed they do my friend, with a simple cup of their blood they can transform a normal human into one of their own, they can control beasts like spiders, bats and wolves, summon the dead as zombies, skeletons and revenants in massive hordes to fight on the front."
A low whistle comes out from Kouta as he leans close to me and whispers in my ear in our
native tongue.
"Boss, are you sure this is a one company job?"
I rub my goatee in deep parallel to Sir Grudgebrand doing the same with his beard. I take a deep breath as I analyze his words before deciding honesty would be the best recourse. Speaking in the common tongue all in this land share I inform the dwarven lord of my conclusion. "Apologies for the rudeness on our behalf for speaking in a language you do not understand, but my subordinate brought up the fair question that we may not have the strength necessary for this contract by ourselves."
The dwarf raises his eyebrow at my words. "I see, is this the part where you say I should hire more of your clan Manling?"
I nod and speak frankly. "Yes but I am not saying this to extract more money from you but as a safety measure for all of us. I would even convince my clan to send more of us at a severe discount if not entirely for free barring paying for our supplies. I do not wish to unnecessarily risk the lives of my own shinobi but that of yours and your clansmen."
The Old dwarf warrior smiles and nods. "I think I'm going to like you a lot, Manling, you actually give a shit about carrying out your business frankly and correctly, you've made yourself go from Deb to Dawr in my eyes." The rest of the dwarven members of the war council grunt or nod in acknowledgement.
He then turns and looks around at the room making eye contact with each warrior sitting in on this war council before turning to face me once again. "But we have enough here. The hold has called to arms a throng of two thousand warriors, ten thousand regular manling sellswords and militiamen, your one hundred warriors, who if even a tenth of the stories spoken about you are true will fight with the force of ten thousand men, a truly prodigious force for the region."
The Thane knows what he's talking about, he's dealt with these creatures before while I haven't.
My fists clench beneath the table in determination, we can do this, we can kill these monsters and go home safely. I want to believe those words, but the subtle dread that was pooling in my stomach since we left the Compound does not dissipate. It stays with me, hanging over my head like the raised ax of an executioner that is simply waiting for the order.
~~~~~~~~
By the gods we were wrong. The beginning of the campaign was grim, we had thought there was time to find and destroy the vampire menace before they caused too much damage.
Instead the ghouls had descended upon the region like a swarm of undead locusts devouring everything and everyone within reach, village after village turned into slaughterhouses where the only things left behind of the inhabitants was dried blood and rotting gore and absolutely no clue as to where the abominations went.
In a repeat of a few months ago we are inside another command tent but this time instead of a collection of our lieutenants beside us it is just me and Sir Grudgebrand, the strong confidence he had then is now gone. The atmosphere is almost suffocating with the weight of our failures hanging over us.
The Thane who was strong and proud when this started, is now slumped over the table in defeat. "I was too slow, if only I had raised the throngh faster we could've saved them. All of those peoples' deaths are upon my head."
I grab a mug from the side then fill it with a strong amber colored liquid from a propped up tankard. I serve it to the dwarf and pat his back as he lifts the mug to his lips and consumes it in one long single drink.
When he's finished I take the mug and refill it for him which he immediately empties and I repeat the process a few more times before he regains his bearings then I sit in front of him and drink my own tea.
Not all has been bad this campaign.
A friendship between myself, my company and Sir Grudgebrand and his throng has been nurtured.
Despite the difficult circumstances, or maybe because of them, solidarity bloomed between us as through dialogue we discovered we all share the same need to protect the weak. It was why Grudgeband had volunteered himself to lead this warband, funded it mostly from his own coffers and asked many of his own kin to march alongside him.
Now that same compassion was what distressed him.
"What I want to know is what blasted magic the Uzkular are using to get away from us? Every time we're about to reach them like water in the desert they evaporate leaving nothing behind!"
That was the million rial question.
My Shinobi and I had rushed ahead as the scouts of the force hoping to catch the Ghouls with their metaphorical pants around their legs but as we came closer and closer we saw shadows and mists blanketing the area, when they dissolved the ghouls and their servants were gone as well.
Our attempts at trying to resolve this puzzle are interrupted by one of the Longbeards standing guard outside the tent poking his head in and calling out to Sir Grudgeband. "My Thane, a local Manling wizard who wishes to speak with you, says he has figured out why the leeches keep evading our axes."
We both sit up at this, with Sir Grudgeband looking particularly excited. "Send him in right now!"
The Longbeard nods before turning to face out the tent to yell. "As you command Thane! Boy get over here!"
Pushed into the tent is a young teenager, gaunt and awkward as boys his age tend to be. What sets him apart from others his age is the shadowy gray aura surrounding his body. It twists and hugs itself to him in ways that would've appeared intimidating on someone less… pathetic looking.
The lad looks a second away from pissing himself in fear beneath Sir Grudgebrand and I's inquisitive stares. He tries to speak but his tongue is tied, the only sounds coming out of his mouth are grunts and croaks.
Eventually he stops babbling, clears his throat and speaks in a squeaky cracked voice as nervous sweat drips down his acne ridden face. "Sirs I come bearing the answer to our vampire issue." The shadows that hug him twist and writhe into a new form, a form that makes me clench my fist for it is the same fog our foe uses to hide themselves.
The young boy beams with joy as he manipulates the aether to form that hated mist. "The vampires are using Ulgu!"
~~~~~~~
After the young mage revealed the source of the Ghoul's abilities he offered his amateur services, for free at that, in helping us purge the undead menace.
Day after day the boy manipulates the aether and pushes aside the barriers of shadow and mist the dead use to hide themselves, exposing them to caresses of kunai, the strikes of axes and the jabs of blessed crossbow bolts.
My company and I are holding the right flank, while the local mercenaries hold the left and the dwarfs hold the center as an indomitable wall of steel and fury.
The people of this world fight with a rage I have seen only amongst the clans with the deepest of antagonisms.
Blood runs hot into the soil as man and dwarf slay and are in turn slayed by the unholy but they do not care. The mercenaries and dwarfs die screaming the names of their gods and mothers while using the last bit of their lives to strike down the enemy, hoping to take one last danger to their homes with them to the afterlife.
The dead burn with as much hatred for the living. The vampires roar while charging massed ranks of infantry letting themselves be impaled by swarms of pikes, spears and halberds so they could unleash their cursed blades and inhuman abilities in the center of the formations laughing at the carnage they harvested in between bouts of feasting upon their victims.
Many of these flesh eating berserkers did not get to enjoy the bloodletting for long as they were torn apart by enchanted axes, blessed bullets and crossbow bolts or utterly annihilated by shinobi. Their bodies broken far beyond their capabilities to recover from, imparting upon them the well deserved gift of true death.
The creature in front of me is a beast. Foaming at the mouth with murder shining in its blood red orbs as it attempts to slice me into ribbons with its ax, either not noticing or not caring about the dozen or so of its companions I have already put to rest.
While dodging his strikes from the corner of my eye I see a portal of smoke form itself forty meters from our rear flank. From it one of the restless dead pulls itself from the aether, it is pale, with glowing red eyes and a dagger made of shadow in its hand, a phantom of murder made flesh.
It leaps out of the smoke with the speed of a fired crossbow bolt, an explosive violent force aimed directly towards the back of Grudgebrand who was dueling another of the beasts.
I will not allow it.
Parrying the ax that attempts to behead me with my saber, I step behind the now unbalanced vampire then raise and bring down my blade upon him three times.
One, I slice off his two arms with a swing.
Two, I remove his head from his shoulders.
Three, I bisect his body in twain.
Before it hits the ground I'm airborne, locking onto my next target. It's fast, nearly as quick as me, and a split-second glance tells me I have only moments before it reaches Grudgebrand.
I pull together a fuma shuriken from the iron sand and charge it with Jiton Chakra, the vampire hacking his way through the warriors guarding the Thane's back.
The blade thrums in my hand, sparks leaping between its points as it spins against my palm. The last warriors between the vampire and his target have fallen, the Thane's attention still fixed on the foes ahead of him, heedless of the one at his back.
At the apex of my leap, right as the creature raises its sword, ready to drive it between the plates of Grudgebrand's armor, I let fly with the shuriken, praying for the ancestors to guide my arm.
Still spinning, the blade makes a sound like a thunderclap as it shoots through the air like a bullet, burying itself in the vampire's side and scattering him into a thousand pieces just as he's about to strike.
I fall to the ground near Grudgebrand's position just as he finishes slaying the vampire he was battling, the creature falling to the floor with a blessed knife in its heart.
The dwarf pulls the blade from the chest of his slawn foe and turns to smile at me while raising his ax in a salute. "My thanks for watching my back manling! Now come join me and help me slay more of these bastards!"
I return the salute with my own blade. "It would be my honor!"
~~~~~~~
Horde after horde of monsters were purged with unrelenting brutality until they had been cornered into the ruins of a city that had been burnt down almost to the foundations by a massive WAAAAAGH centuries ago.
This will be the last battle.
We celebrate the night before this final attack with good food and drink, ale flows into waiting mugs while sizzling plates of spiced mutton and chicken are served with steaming bowls of rice alongside cool bowls of tzatziki as we took it upon ourselves to feed our allies with the generosity of the clan.
Accompanying us at the table with my shinobi officers are both the senior and junior Grudgebrands and the young wizard who had shared his name was Oliver.
The dwarfs are at first overwhelmed with the strength of the spices we have heaped upon the dishes before cheering and declaring them the food equivalent of strong ale, even starting competitions between each other to see who could consume the most of the spiciest dish.
Poor Oliver was pushed into partaking when he himself had no tolerance for the heat of our cuisine but he enjoyed himself none the less.
After the feast is done, the soldiers, man and dwarf alike, retreat to the comfort of their beddings for the night minus the few assigned sentry duty.
I do not have the luxury of rest.
In the shadows of burning candle light, the Thane and I sit at the table where we were feasting a scant hour ago but now to discuss matters of import.
The Old dwarf smiles at me kindly, it's the smile an old friend gives another, and while we have not known each other long, we have been fighting together for the past six months, friendships forged on the battlefield are ones that formed quickly and strongly. "Akeem, forgive me for being so rude but I fear I have to ask more of you."
A smile of my own works its way across my face. "Tis no trouble my friend, simply ask and I will see it done."
The dwarf nods before taking a chug of his ale. "I will ask that this coming battle you focus on protecting my son."
It takes me a second to process his words, my bafflement expressing itself if the bemused grin on the old dwarf's face is anything to go by."But you will be leading the striking force from the northern flank, you will be at the forefront of the fighting while the forces in the south move up to surround them afterwards."
The dwarf agrees with my assessment. "Aye I'll be at the front of all the fighting but the vampires may decide to charge the southern pincer to break our trap and if that were to happen my son's life would be in danger. As a father I can not allow that possibility to go unaccounted for."
He leans across the table and offers me his hand. "As such I ask that you protect my son like you've protected me."
My chest feels heavy at the trust he places in me. Bowing my head, I take his hand in mine and accept his request. "With my life."
~~~~~~~
With a screeching fury a wine bottle flies through the air of the catacomb before crashing against the wall splattering its bloody continents across it. The viscous scarlet fluid it contained slowly drips down forming a puddle as the one that threw it leans over the table to yell at his counterpart in his thick Sylvanian accent.
"Listen to me you arrogant Tilean cunt we are not abandoning this operation after all the blood sweat and tears I've invested into it! Not now, not ever!"
The vampire sitting at the table stands with such fury that his movement causes the chair to fly back and splinter into pieces as he unleashes his lightly accented Tilean cadence upon his screaming accomplice.
"What you've invested! I've put my second life at risk Every. Fucking. Day. Casting spell after spell to ensure this entire thing even works while you sit in the back eating, beating your dick and making Gets!"
The Sylvanian vampire sees red and raises his fist to strike at the disrespectful Tilean but before he can swing the Tilean grabs the table, flips it in front of him and then slams it over the bellicose vampire.
Trapped in a terrible position to move with one hand outside of the table and the other pinned beneath it alongside his upper body, the Sylvanian can do nothing more but squirm.
He is wholly at the mercy of the Tilean as he bashes his face in with barrage after barrage of furious punches that sees the cartilage in his nose break with a crunch and the bones in his face shatter like glass.
Teeth go flying out and the Tilean's knuckles break from the abuse of being constantly slammed against a skull.
The Sylvanian is barely able to mumble for mercy through the mass of gore that is now his face, lips and mouth but even that is silenced, when the furious Tilean with his ruined hands grabs firmly unto the Sylvanian vampire's skull and begins to dig his fingers into the bone before slamming his head unto the floor while screaming.
"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I'M A SON OF ABHORASH YOU VON CARSTEIN PIECE OF SHIT! FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU!"
The Tilean ends his maddening assault when the Sylvanian begins tapping his free arm on the floor, a universal sign of surrender.
With tears of blood streaming from his less damaged eye the Von Carstein welp begs for succor with the barely intelligible words that crawl through his shattered teeth and shredded tongue.
"Ple-ed no moh."
Glaring down at him with his fangs displayed in a menacing scowl and his eyes shining like rubies, the Tilean nods then pulls his bloody fingers from his conquered foe's skull. As he begins to speak he starts slapping the broken vampire with the back of his hand, each word enunciated with a hit."We! Will! Do! Things! My! Way! From! Now! On!"
The Von Carstein can only give a weak whimper that the Tilean takes as an agreement. As he stands to walk away the Tilean humiliates him one last time by spitting on him before he turns to the two skeletons in the corner of the room and walks out. "Feed that idiot some blood and get him ready, the dwarfs and their pets will be here by dawn!"
As he walks up the steps to the streets of the city above the vampire's shadow begins to mold itself as he summons the wind of ulgu to his hands, ready to shape itself at his command.
"I will not die in this dump. I will return to Tilea and stay there like I should have from the start!"
~~~~~~~
The army of men and dwarfs wakes before the sun's brilliance pushes away the night, they march to the tune of songs alongside beating drums. By the time the sky begins to hue itself from dark blue, to pink, to orange then brilliant blue the army is fully placed in position to attack the city.
With their banners raised high the warriors lined up around the perimeter of the city on the hills that surrounded it preparing for the attack.
When the sun is at its highest peak, Thane Grudgebrand walks to the front of his flank as he sends off my subordinate towards me and Grudgebrand Junior.
She runs towards us at her top velocity, reaching us at a timely manner as she hands us a coiled piece of parchment with the instructions for what different flags being raised would mean.
The elder dwarf felt it prudent that he create the codes now and distribute them now to minimize chances of the ghouls spying upon us.
With the codes received I place an encouraging hand upon the shoulders of the chunin that delivered them. I whisper a small prayer of protection so that Al-Uzza may guard her well in the coming battle.
Within myself I feel the same warmth from when the gods had answered my prayers in the past. "Fight strong sister, for the gods watch over us."
She bows her head. "May your hands enjoy health now and forever brother Akeem."
We then hug as she prepares to part. "May it be so, sister Kamaria."
Grudgebrand junior calls for our attention. "Madam, would it bother you if I were to ask you for a favor?"
Separating herself, Chunin Kamaria bows to the son of our employer. "It would be no bother at all my lord, simply ask."
The young dwarf licks his dry lips before speaking. "Please tell my father to do everything possible to come back alive to Barak Varr, to come back home together to mother."
The love and concern of a dutiful son for his father. It warms my heart to see that even in a new world something so beautiful is universal.
Kamaria smiles. "It would be a great honor to pass on your words to him, lord." She waves to both of us and wishes us luck.
~~~~~~
The assault begins with an announcement by a great orchestra of brutality as lines of cannons unleash volleys of chemical wrath with such overwhelming force that the very ground quakes as the sonic booms cause our bodies to shake.
Twelve pound munitions tear through the air at hypersonic velocities creating a terrible whistling sound as they descend upon the ruined city they are sent to destroy.
Each cannon round strikes as arrows fired from the bow of an incandescent war god; buildings shatter into dust, the earth itself is ripped asunder with even the cellars and catacombs the ghouls hid themselves inside being annihilated forcing them to run above ground to seek shelter outside of the bombardment area.
A mistake made in panic.
For without the protection of their bunkers and hideouts the sun's burning light, an anathema to many of them, renders them into ash, they die screaming in agony. The rest who do not immediately perish to the brilliance of the day soon become the quarry of handgunners and crossbowmen who eagerly wait as priests of gods of both man and dwarf alike walk amongst them placing benedictions upon their weapons and ammo.
With vicious smiles on their faces, they raise their weapons of choice, align their sights and fire. Volley after volley of blessed munitions are launched towards the backs of fleeing ghouls and their revenant servants.
Lead hail spills blood, breaks bones and brings death to the undying.
The monsters' rush to safety brings them beyond the range at which the bullets could accurately shoot at them, an eventuality that was accounted for.
Bugles are played and flags are raised signaling for the soldiers with ranged weapons to march towards a position that would allow them to continue their blessed work alongside us, their brothers and sisters in arms who waited south.
The vampires that hoped the south would be uncovered begin to wail in despair when they see more lines of warriors with rifles and crossbows ready for their arrival.
Most do not live past the first volley as bullets graced by the gods of this world were not wasted on the meatshields they had left behind to cover their rear flank. The few that survive scream their defiance as they charge uphill towards us, a brave but stupid action as they are simply gunned down by the waiting soldiers.
While the gunners mop up the targets pushed out by the bombardments to the north another flag is raised, a signal that the firepower of the cannons and guns are being directed out of the area of operations.
Now without needing to worry about friendly fire Dwarf soldiers with axes and hammers, mercenary human spearmen, foot knights and my own shinobi begin to march down the hills ready to do the hard work of rooting out and burning the undead menace from the ruined city block by bloody block.
As the strike force sets foot upon the streets the gray mists of the ghoul's accursed sorcery begins to coalesce around them until young Oliver counters it with his own arcane abilities.
Prismatic energies gather around the young wizard as they metamorph themselves into all the colors of the rainbow before settling on silver that he then commands to dissipate and strangle the encroaching gray mists.
With a swipe as his hand the boy commanded the mists to remove themselves from the presence of his brothers and sisters and arms ensuring their safety.
The safety does not last, from the shadows a dagger slices through the air with a wailing screech that plunges itself directly into the throat of the wizard.
Oliver falls. His hands claw at his throat as his mouth fills with blood.
Grudgebrand kneels besides his eyes wide with concern as he screams for help. "Healer! The boy is dying, get him a healer!"
Taking his hand into his, the Dwarf looks into the dying boy's eyes. "Stay with me Manling! You'll pull through, you hear me! You're going to survive this and go back to your people a hero!"
His words fall on death ears as the young wizard expires, his panicking eyes now glassy and empty as they stare up into the sky.
With his demise the silver shroud that protects the men slowly stretches then shatters out of existence as without the will of their caster to supplement them the mists break through.
To the soldiers their world disappears as the mists engulf them, their vision now constrained by the endless clouds of gray that surround them to only a few meters.
Reaching out they grab on tightly to the few comrades they can actually see, forming living chains of man and dwarf as they try to find another while reforming their ranks, too little too late.
Frantic calls to regroup are interrupted by screams of terror. "The vampires are in the mist, they're here with- AAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
Eyes wide Grudgebrand stands quickly from the side of the fallen teenager. He turns to his shield bearers and orders two of them to retreat back up the hill with his body, the dead cannot be allowed to infest his body with their black magic.
The dwarf raises one arm high above his shoulder while holding out the other one bent in front of him, the runes that run along his armor begin to shine, he inhales deeply and then brings his clenched fist down upon his arm in a motion similar to a hammer striking an anvil, as it makes contact he releases a massive yell. "DRUNG ELGRAM!"
A strong pulse of white energy emanates from his body that destroys the mist surrounding him and his men until it stops. The pulse creates a circular safe zone of 20 meters that freed and protected the men from the mist.
Thane Grudgebrand wastes no time as he fires off instructions. "This barrier will last for thirty seconds, grab your comrades still in the mist and move them to the hills now!"
Fear and discipline inspire the soldiers to move with a sense of urgency as they pull whoever they can reach from the mists. Quickly by Grudgebrand's side was Kouta.
The Tokubetsu Jounin was covered in the blood and viscera of dozens of slain vampires and their undead servants. "Lord Grudgebrand the foe has enshrouded our forces, my men are fighting right now to protect the rear flank of our retreating forces."
Nodding the dwarf acknowledges the Ninja's report before issuing him new commands. "Find your men and order them to muster on the hill, there is no point trying to save those that are lost in the mist. That would be us playing the role the enemy wants us to in their plan."
The Dwarf's words are backed by the cold battlefield logic all Shinobi are drilled to put first, there is no emotion on Kouta's face as he nods then vanishes in a shunshin burst.
It takes the Tokubetsu officer a mere minute to collect his spread out subordinates and relocate them to the hills where Grudgebrand is busy slamming his arms together every thirty seconds to keep the magical mist at bay.
All fifty-five of Kouta's shinobi were assembled behind the Thane. "B Platoon of the second Company is assembled sir!"
Grinning Grudgebrand reaches to his belt and raises his runed hammer and shield from his belt raising them above his head. "Excellent work Kouta! Shieldbearers and Longbeards to me! Foot Knights to me!"
Assembling behind their leader the elites of the war party weapons are held tight as their hearts booming so loud all other noises are drowned out.
The Thane takes his hammer and points it towards the mist. "My brothers and sisters in arms for the entirety of this campaign the foe has used his vile witchery to misguide, mislead and escape us. We are all sick of it! We will go forth into this hollow city and slay that whoreson sorcerer and his puppets who's with me!" Howls of agreement emerge from the mass of soldiers at their commander's words.
With the force of a crashing meteor the raised gromril hammer smashes into the stone street as a deep crimson flare emerges from it. "DRAKK DRUN!" The flare unleashes itself as a wave of destructive scarlet flames that erases all before them.
The fires of the Rune of Dragon Thunder burned hot enough to melt steel and turn ash to bone, the wails of those few soldiers left behind in the mist unable to be saved lasted only for a second before the runic flame returned them to dust, but they did not go alone.
Vampires, ghouls, and other monsters in the vicinity that were moments ago hunting the soldiers in the mist were sent screaming to burn for eternity in limbo, their rotting corpse flesh being obliterated so utterly only dust was left to mark their existences.
With the way cleared the dwarf warrior called for the men to charge downhill with him. A stampede of steel ran into the mist that was soon cleared with another shout of Drung Elgram that pushed it back long enough for swords, axes, hammers and kunai to reach the flesh of the enemy.
At the front of his men the Thane led the charge inspiring his followers with word and deed. "Not one step back men, not one ancestor damned step back! Forward to kill all of these abominations! For glory, for honor, for gold!"
"For glory! For honor! For gold! For glory! For honor! For gold!" The collection of mercenaries and dwarf clansmen repeated the mantra with a near religious fervor as they kept charging deeper and deeper into the city, slaying more and more monsters with every step they took while in turn being killed themselves by the beasts that got through the rings of fire and steel that they produced.
Fell bats that scope up dwarfs are chopped into bloody pieces by the greatswords of knights, who are in turn smashed into chunks by rampaging ghouls who are then torn apart by buzzsawing iron sand blades.
Grudgebrand releases an echoing bellow from the center of his chest. "I can feel the whoreson creating this infernal mist nearby! If he falls, so do the monsters! If you want to live, keep killing, keep marching and keep fighting! Not one step back!
Not one step back!"
With the light of hope pushing away the darkness in their eyes and the sweet taste of victory teasing their tongues the warriors scream as they tear apart the undead garrison carving through the city a road of fire and blood directly to its rotten heart.
The Thane takes note of what remains of his companions. From the force of 600 shinobi, soldiers and dwarf warriors that charged alongside him a third had died in the ensuing dash leaving him with four hundred survivors.
But despite the losses the group was determined to fight without a trace of fear in their hearts, and fight they will for at last the mist is ripped asunder like a curtain being pulled aside to reveal the last stand of the undead.
The last of the undead are a force of nightmares made manifest several Varghulfs, a pack of Vargheists and fifty crypt horrors form behind a party of vampires who in turn stand behind their leader.
Grudgebrand grinds his teeth as white knuckled rage courses through his veins at seeing the architect of atrocities he has been chasing these past few months.
The vampire leader wears a steel breastplate engraved with the image of an eagle while dressed in the typical attire of a diestro that is tinted a blazing sapphire. His jet black hair is tied into a ponytail so as to not obstruct what would've been a classically handsome face now twisted into the visage of a monster.
His lips have receded revealing a mouth full dagger like fangs while his eyes are no more than small beady orbs gleaming with unrestrained malevolence.
The creature raises his rapier pointing it towards the warriors that had been the bane of his existence since he made the mistake of participating in that stupid Sylvanian's scheme and let loose the dogs of war with a scream in Tilean. "KILL THESE BASTARDS RIGHT NOW! I AM SICK OF THEM! I AM SICK OF THIS PLACE! I AM SICK OF ALL THIS SHIT!"
Without a word from their lips his vampire subordinates charged, while the horrors and mutated vampires howled with glee at the prospect of satisfying their violent inhuman hunger as they launched themselves towards the living.
A growl of hatred crawls through Grudebrand's clenched teeth as he raises and slams his hammer forward letting loose the words of power. "DRAKK DRUN!" Leaping dozens of meters into the air the vampires dodge the wave of scorching runic destruction.
The creatures that do not have the speed, agility or the blessed gift of flight to dodge are forced to act as heat sinks for Thane's fury. The Varghulfs being monsters beyond monsters charge through the flame with little concern as the unholy energies that power their bodies either shield them from the damage or heal it.
The Crypt horrors are nowhere near as durable. Eyes melt, blood boils and muscles explode as the sheer
heat of the Dragon's Thunder flash fries the first rank of them to a crisp so quickly that there wasn't even time to scream. They fall, corpses trampled by their comrades as the mad dogs rush through the superheated air and burning earth to kill.
From the sky the leaping vampires and flying Vargheists descend to the earth, they aimed themselves directly towards the foe like arrows that were fired and are now coming down upon a target.
But before they can make contact my chunins and tokubetsu officer intersect them mid-air by leaping directly towards them while throwing shurikens, kunais, axes and chakrams.
The vampires here are not the mad berserkers or cowards we had faced this past year but hardened veterans with hundreds of years of warfighting under their belts to maximize the advantages their inhuman condition afforded them.
With inhuman grace they swing their blades to parry swarms of projectiles so elegantly, so smoothly, that they seem more like dancers than warriors. Flowing motions of steel push aside the dozens upon dozens of blades that are aimed at them.
But all dances need a partner. The vampires soon find theirs when the shinobi collide with them midair pushing them away from the mercenaries and dwarves.
The Von Carstein that masterminded this operation jerks his head to the side as Kouta's war hammer swings through the air, its face dragging his hair with the current of the blow.
He snarls with hate at the stern-faced shinobi blacksmith. The vampire's blade clashes against the Tokubetsu-Jounin's hammer as the two men duel during their descent back to the earth alongside their comrades fighting their own battles.
Thane Grudgebrand hears the Tilean move before he sees him. It is only thanks to reflexes forged over centuries of intense battle that he lives as he instinctively raises his shield in time to block the thrust of the vampire's blade.
Cursed steel clashes against runed gromril creating a shockwave that blasts both fighters away from each other. But the reprieve that the new distance between them provided Grudgebrand does not last long as the Tilean crosses it with unperceivable velocity to strike at the dwarf.
The undead strikes are a hurricane of bloody fury that seek to send the Thane flying, but the dwarf does not yield. He takes every superhuman strike from sorcerer with the steadfastness of a mountain using his shield and hammer to block or parry every single one of the dozens upon dozens of strikes aimed at ending his life.
The Vampire is fast, he is agile and mobile in ways Grudgebrand's people never could be, but even as he literally runs circles around him to attack from every angle available he finds too late that it is he, not the dwarf, that is being placed on the backfoot.
When the time is right the stout warrior steps to the side right as the Tilean makes for a lunging stab aimed towards his eyes. The Ghoul's footing slips as the force of his dodged attack carries him forward past grudgebrand leaving him in a situation every duelist from as far south as Tilea to as north as Kislev dreads, being open to a riposte.
White hot pain seeps through his mind making him go see white as the hammer of justice meets the center of his back. His armor shatters as his back pushes itself forward in a way that was utterly anathema to the human anatomy. The momentum of the hammer continues following the set trajectory of the Dwarf's swing taking with it the shattered body of the vampire until it's apex where he finally goes flying.
All the Vampire knows is agony as the bones in his spine begin to reconstrue themselves into their natural form. But even with his eyes seeing nothing but white from the sheer pain honed warrior's instinct, natural born talent and the gift of his bloodline ensured that he would not simply wait for his death, as he hastily rolls to the side saving his skull from being crushed by Grudgebrand's hammer.
Focusing the necessary amounts of his own energy to hasten his regeneration, the bloodsucker slams his palm into the ground to launch himself out of the dwarf's striking range. The Rune of Dragon Thunder then burns bright as its wielder raises the hammer it is engraved upon, ready to engulf the enemy in dwarven hellfire.
Screams and shattering steel interrupt the noble warrior's focus. From the corner of his vision he sees the Varghouls and Crypt Horrors tearing apart shieldbearers, mercenaries and shinobi.
Without hesitation he slams the hammer in the direction of the beasts.
A wave of magical flame consumes the backs of the monsters; it destroys the crypt horrors while severely damaging the Varghouls who are too attrited after the melee to heal and protect themselves like the first time. Taking advantage of the fire support their commander provided, the warriors push back against the beasts, not giving them a second to retreat or recover.
Never one to miss an opportunity, the Tilean dashes forward, his blade aimed directly at the back of the Thane's head. He feels someone move so fast the air tears itself apart with a roar, then he sees a booted foot come down and smash his sword into the dirt, he looks into the eyes of the human that just stopped him and sees nothing but burning apocalyptic hatred within them.
Hatred aimed towards him.
Instincts roar and the undead ducks beneath the first swing of a hammer, before beginning to dance around the gale of steel that was Kouta's hammer.
The dance comes to an end as the Von Carstein, who was Kouta's previous opponent, interrupts him with a sword swing aimed at his neck. The Shinobi sneers at the undead as he begins to rant. "How dare you leave our duel, peasant! I will torture you till you expire, resurrect you with necromancy and then torture you to death again for this insult! So I swear as Hans Von Car-"
His rant is ended as a gromril hammer smashes through both his legs so powerfully they are severed at the knee from his body. He falls screaming then is silenced as the hammer's shield brother slams into the arrogant noble's head numerous times until he can only weakly gurgle thick wet sounds through his crushed throat and shattered teeth.
The Tilean ignores his "partner's" plight focusing on finishing the repair of his spine and drawing his second cursed blade. He raises the rapier in the classical en garde position as his keen eyes analyze both his opponents.
Kouta and Grudgebrand grip firmly onto their weapons and begin to circle their foe like demigryphs prowling around a cow.
If his body could sweat it would be doing so now. Taking them one on one would be one of the hardest battles the Tilean would ever fight but he had good chances of coming out victorious. But two against one? He might as well stake his own heart all the good it would do to fight.
Then like a bolt of lightning inspiration comes to him as he remembers that they possess a weakness he does not.
Summoning the gray wind to himself, the Shinobi and Thane stick close together as the latter prepares to dispel any volatile witchcraft aimed towards them.
But it is not aimed at them.
The two feel ethereal coldness grace their skin as the wind of mystery slips by them faster than they could react. The two feel a pit open up in their stomach as they can feel the malevolence of the Vampire's magic going not towards them but to their kinsmen and friends.
The two do not dare take their eyes off the enemy in front of them, but they don't need to for the screams of the dead and dying continue again and at a higher pitch than before.
Though he can no longer really smile because of his lack of lips, the sheer satisfaction radiating from him and the ugly curving upwards of his maw of dagger like teeth are all that the two need to see he was very happy with the results of his spell.
He chuckles as two word's slip from his mouth. "
Okkam's Mindrazor."
He relaxes his stance as he points his blade to behind the two warriors, delighting that neither dared take their eyes off him. "It's a marvelous spell really, a truly excellent power multiplier for even the most rag tag mob. But on my own forces? The results are
spectacular."
Shinobi and Dwarf strike as one. Grudgebrand releases another blast of Dragon Thunder while Kouta zooms through the extensive hand signs for a wind bullet jutsu that hits the runic flame that causes it to explode with augmented power as the intake of fresh oxygen fuels it.
Laughing, the vampire jumps high then summons a shield of Aetheric Armour around his body to protect him from the heat and flames that still reach him. "One or both of you should hurry up and help your friends or there might not be any of them left to save!"
Through grinding teeth rage the furious Thane speaks to Kouta. "Save both our Kin Manling."
The Tokubetsu jounin opens his mouth to protest leaving the Thane alone, but the dwarf's eyes are stone, he realizes it would waste precious time to argue. He solemnly nods. "As you command my lord."
Turning on his heel he disappears in a burst of shunshin leaving the commanders by themselves on a burning battlefield.
One on one, much better odds than before.
The vampire stretches his mouth wide in a facsimile of a grin that shows off each of his knife-like fangs. He taunted his dwarf foe by raising his free hand towards him making the universal 'come here' motion, daring him to fight.
He is no coward, with the sun as their only witness, dwarf and vampire begin to take their final steps in the mad dance of death.
The undead duelist takes the first step. He flashes forward his cloak billowing behind him like the sapphire wings of a bird prey with the blade of his sword acting as the beak.
Shield shining with power Grudgebrand bends his knees then leaps forward at the right moment. Steel and Gromril clash once again, the Thane uses his foe's momentum against them as he twists his body to allow the blade to direct itself away from him as he raises his hammer for another strike.
The motion allows the dwarf a split second to piece together a flash of the battlefield. He sees Kouta descend like an angry comet upon a Varghoul that had gotten sloppy in its feast of dwarven blood. His blacksmith hammer tearing apart the beast with the sheer kinetic force of its swing.
Not letting him finish his counter the Tilean uses his superior reach to grab onto the thane's wrist, holding his hammer in place. Grudgebrand grinds his teeth then swings his shield directly at the vampire's underbelly.
Releasing his sword the Tilean grabs onto the edge of the shield just as it was to slam into his gut. Both warriors are now in a stalemate as the Vampire tries to grapple his opponent into a more vulnerable position while the dwarf strains with all of his might to crush the vampire into paste with either shield or hammer.
From the corner of his eyes and through his ears he observes the death wrought upon his friends and allies. Ethermal blades of utter darkness that surround the monsters bring unrelenting death to their victims as they slip through guards and plate to the delicate flesh underneath.
Then it occurs to the dwarf to reverse gears, rather than pushing against the vampire he would let go and draw himself back. The ghoul is caught off guard by the sudden shifting of his momentum as all the force he exerted to hold the dwarf back no longer has an opposite keeping it in place.
He trips then is slammed back as Grudgebrand reared his head back and slammed his fully armored head directly into the vampire's breastplate. The vampire bites back a scream as the sheer strength behind the attack combined with the energy from his stumble forward shatters through the steel protecting his stomach and ribs.
But he has suffered worse.
He has been burned alive at the hands of Skryre's flamethrowers during the botched invasion of skavenblight.
Sliced nearly to ribbons by the blades of Morr's priests and mages.
Trampled by the hooves of Brettonia's knightly elite.
His stomach being pulverized is
nothing.
Powering through the pain the corpse wraps his arms around the dwarf's midsection before he can pull his head back, with a screaming heave he raises and slams him back down upon the earth.
The damage and pain from being slammed is minimal but before he can recover his bearings the dwarf feels one of his legs being pulled as the vampire wraps both his hands around it, then with a powerful heave uses it to fling the rest of his body away.
'Not the first time this has happened to me.' The dwarf thinks. The giants and ogres that occasionally passed by his home often caused a ruckus that required they be put down and they too on a few occasions had seen fit to use their strength to throw him like a stone on a catapult.
With the hard earned wisdom of past experience guiding him the dwarf flips his body over so that rather than landing on his head he lands cleanly on his feet, giving him stability as he arrests his crash by dragging a trench into the earth.
Instincts screaming he raises his shield at precisely the right moment as a massive blade of burning shadows and mist slams into it. It raises him for a second before the gromril overcomes the magic of the attack and obliterates it.
Now he's sweating, even with the majesty of gromril protecting him he never did enjoy fighting mages because they could often do things with their magic his armor couldn't stop.
Like his opponent creating
three copies of himself.
He knows the extra two are illusions but that does not help him since he cannot discern which
is the real one.
The triplets move as one to surround the dwarf.
From his right, front and his back the three monsters strike, blades howling for his blood as they slice through the air directly towards the gaps in his armor.
Out of instinct the dwarf protects his front as the duelist aims at his eyes, while also twisting his body to shield his neck from the strike to his side. His hopes that his guess of the vampire going for the killing blow are dashed as he feels the tip of the rapier penetrate the small unarmored gap on the back of his knee.
More adrenaline runs through his body as the dwarf powers through the agony of his kneecap being stabbed to keep standing and fighting. He swings at the vampire, the
real one but that detestable mist cloaks the creature providing him the cover necessary to regroup and then strike again.
He has only seconds to defend himself from the renewed omnidirectional assault. Thinking quickly he tries to speak the words of power needed to vanquish the mist and the illusions. "DRUN-!" But the vampire is no fool, he strikes just as the Thane speaks the first syllable.
Another exchange where the dwarf defends against mirages while the real one lands a critical blow, this time against the wrist holding his shield as his blade slides through the hardened steel chainmail protecting it as easily as a falcon does in the sky.
With his tendon served the longbeard's shield falls from his hand.
A smile that belongs more on a shark imprints itself on the Tilean's face as step's back dodging Grudgebrand's swing. Satisfaction that his plan to wound his prey is bearing contaminates the vampire's mind, it blinds him and makes him sloppy as he forgets a key lesson.
Prey cornered is the most dangerous sort.
Grudgebrand knows he has very few avenues of victory left, that the conventional ways are now out of reach with his mobility hampered and his hand rendered unusable. But that does not mean he is without options.
He analyzes how the vampire prefers to act. How he is wearing him down attack by attack, while stopping himself from being too greedy by going for a killing blow.
Understanding this faucet of his opponent's mindset he formulates a plan.
The Dwarf holds his hammer in front of him as if preparing a dueling stance and then closes his eyes. He cuts off the sense most subsitible to the vampire's trickery as he embraces his long memories.
The darkness of blindness is not unfamiliar to him. It has been a companion of his people since the first of them breathed life on the world as they lived, battled and died in the caverns deep beneath the earth.
Fighting without your light was simply something that came naturally to those dwarfs that had hardened themselves fighting the Rats deep in the tunnels they enjoyed carving for themselves.
Now without his sight to deceive him any longer the Thane simply listened as the vampire rushed towards him.
He heard and felt the air shift, the pounding made by his boots upon the dirt and grass and then the whistle of his blade cutting through the air.
Holding on to those sounds he follows them and waits for precisely the right moment.
…
…
…
…
Now!
Putting all of his strength behind this singular blow the Thane twists his body and strikes from below at the real vampire just as he is about to penetrate the gap around his armpit.
The vampire's eyes widen in shock as he feels a silver comet strike him, force as inhuman as his own collides against his already ravaged plate, shards of steel are stamped into his muscles shredding his chest to pieces.
His body rises off the ground as the uppercut carries itself ever upwards into an arc upwards into, then
through the vampire's body leaving him falling to the floor as two different pieces instead of a single whole.
He gasps as he tries to speak words of power for another spell but his attempt is cut short by a blow to the face that shatters his teeth and shreds his tongue denying him his sorcery.
The vampire begins to squirm to try and crawl away from his slayer but that will not be allowed. Grudgebrand places his good leg on the back of the vampire and presses him down into the earth holding him there.
Hammer rises high above his head like the blade of guillotine the Thane speaks the last words the vampire will hear. "When you go to whatever hell you disgusting creatures go to, I want you to remember who sent you there! My name is Gruthid Grudgebrand of clan Grudgebrand! In the names of all my slain kinsmen, the innocents of this land and young Oliver I shall slay you and avenge them all!"
The Hammer falls.
Thane Grudgebrand looks down with cold contempt at the smashed head of the tyrant that had killed so many and spits upon it before stepping away to retrieve his shield. But as he walks he notices his vision blur, his body begins to shake and his hammer is dropped as his quaking fingers can no longer hold themselves firmly together.
Then he looks down at the vampire's rapier and sees that it is coated in thin liquid film, then he looks to the vampire's bisected lower half and looks towards the blades' scabbards and sees dripping from them more of the same liquid.
'Poison.' Is his last thought as the darkness of unconsciousness takes him.
~~~~~~~~~
Rage pulses in my veins, coursing through my body as an explosive fuel that powers all of myself as I carve a path to where the southern portion were fighting for their lives.
Were it not for a cavalry messenger relaying what had occurred to the northern flank I would have never realized how badly the northern flank needed help, the slow grind of search and destroy warfare in an urban area having kept us from reconnecting soon.
My heart fell into my stomach as I realized I had arrived too late.
The ghouls had all been defeated but at considerable cost. The corpses of hundreds of our number are now left out in the open as crow feed; my teeth grind at the sight of each of my dead clansmen.
My rage boils ever hotter as I see Kouta kneeling by my comatose friend gently feeding him water and ale from both their canteens, using his coat as a pillow for his head as Dwarven healers did all in their power to try and heal him.
Grudgebrand lived but barely.
A deathly mein has descended over his once lively features: skin as pale as marble that when touched is as cold as the grave itself, he breathes shallowly.
I grimace as I look at my despondent Tokubetsu. The sound of the Shunshin being performed in mass announces the coming of his Chunin cadre around us barring one notable exception.
I feel a deep sadness within me. "How did it happen?" None of them dare answer, my words a curse upon them.
We are no strangers to the agony of lost family and friends upon the battlefield for we are shinobi, simply dying would have not invoked such a devastating reaction.
The tomb-like silence is broken when Kamaria looking on the verge of tears answers. "The M-Monsters ripped him apart. We all heard him screaming as they tore off his limbs one by one and then ate him. There isn't anything left of him."
A cowl of heat is pulled down over my head.
Rage and despair wage war in my head for primacy as I remember our years of service together, his dreams carrying on his parents' trade together with his brothers. How there will be nothing to take back and bury. How I will have to face his parents, his brothers and tell them he was gone.
I look at each of the chunin and Kouta with a calm look. "Not a word of how he perished to his family. Not. One. Word. We will not torture them with how he died. We will tell them he died quickly if messily. Is that understood?"
Not one single person disagrees with my command.
I then speak with the dwarven women attending the Thane. "My ladies I apologize but I-"
They wave off my words with stoic grunts and nods. "We are priestesses of the ancestor god of motherhood. It is with the empathy of a mother that we will keep our silence, no parent deserves to know of such a gruesome fate for their child."
I bow my head towards them. "A thousand blessings upon thee." Then I turn and leave with a burst of Shunshin as I go to retrieve the one person who above all others must be made aware of Gruthid's condition, Mardugg.
~~~~~~~~~
The days after the final battle are a blur as we spend them marching with haste to the home of the dwarves, Barak Varr, in the vain hope of giving the injured and poisoned survivors of the battle such as Grudgebrand emergency care.
I had offered to take him myself using the Shunshin but the priestesses informed me that in his current condition the force of my speed would kill him.
Poor Mardugg did not dare sleep as he stood by his father's side cherishing every moment he could spend with him as the old dwarf spoke, joked and even laughed as he did everything in his power to complete the oath he swore to him.
But they were not the only ones we were rushing to take to Barak Varr.
After the battle we had found the bisected body of one of the vampires, the one that had started this carnage. Hans Von Carstein, a fittingly atrocious name for an atrocious person, at first I wanted to nail the creature to a cross and parade him till he expired as punishment for his self confessed crimes but Mardugg had a much more fitting punishment in mind for him.
Convinced by his proposal I ordered the ghoul's arms be severed with what remained of him stuffed into a luggage crate.
For several days we march as fast as we can. For several days I pray to Shay al-Qawm for the guidance of the souls of the lost. For several days we all mourn and remember who we lost.
When are finally within sight of Barak Varr Thane Gruthid Grudgebrand calls council between himself, his sons, his closest friends and retainers.
First he speaks to his friends. "To my friends I thank you for the times we've had, for the moments you gifted me, for they were more precious to me than gold." They bow their heads in gratitude.
Then he speaks to his retainers. "My shieldbearers, my hammerers, my brothers in arms, I could have not asked for finer dwarfs to stand beside me and have my back, do not blame yourselves for what happened and take the slayer's oath, take oaths to defend our home, to train your sons and daughters to fight for my son like you did for me. I thank you for your sacrifices." They bow their heads in contemplation.
Lastly he speaks to his son. "My boy, my precious boy. Know that I love you, your mother and your sister more than anything else in the world, that I will cherish you long after my bones turn to dust and I join our ancestors in the underheath. But most importantly son, I am sorry that the oath I promised you cannot be fulfilled." The boy bows his head in grief and hugs his father as the last of his life leaves him.
We collect our pay inside the fortress, pack up our things, collect our dead and leave the Grudgebrand clan to mourn in private.
As we leave I see the punishment Mardug had promised for the ghoul. The creature screams, thrashes and wails as it is nailed to an anchor that is soon dropped into the hold's harbor.
I make eye contact with it as it sinks, its eyes are full of an all too human fear as the murky depths embrace him.
What I had planned for him was merciful compared to this.
The creature does not need to breathe or eat and according to many bodies of water incapacitate some of them entirely. The creature will slowly rot and wallow away at the bottom of that river for all eternity, perfectly aware but unable to move, unable to terminate, going mad from hunger for blood.
I know all of this as I mouth the last words he will ever have a person communicate to him.
'You deserve this.'
It's time to go home.
Home to bury my dead clansmen.
Home to train my kin.
Home to pray for the strength to destroy these creatures.
For if I find them once more I will not be caught on the back foot again, I will destroy these creatures!
I will not fail my kin and friends like I failed Gruthid, Amram and so many others.
Not again!
Rewards: 15k Gold
Exp For Units participating: All surviving units due to being Green rank up to Experienced.
Casualties: 26 Genin, 1 Chunin dies horribly, rolled a one. Another was saved by Akeem's blessing. Grudgebrand Sr. Perishes. Oliver the mage perishes. Akeem gains a hatred of vampires. 
