Our formation as we move deeper into the north is vaguely triangular, the point facing the looming mountains. The base of the triangle, the frontline, contains the bulk of our forces, comprised of the Bleak Moons, the Waning Stars, and the hunters with the capacity to hold back monsters. Another requirement is the courage to confront a titan head on. Because of that, a few eligible hunters were pushed to the back.
Our supplies are in the middle of the formation. Alongside the wagons are the two firing columns, the casters who are more comfortable slinging magic from a distance. Protecting them and the valuable cargo are those who couldn’t or wouldn’t join the frontline.
Behind them are the reserve forces. Those meant to plug any holes or assist any group that needs assisting. This is where the titan-killers, the Polar Duelists, stay, reserving their strength. It is also where the less…desirable soldiers are assigned. I didn’t think there was bias amongst the orders. Well, it’s obvious the Moons might receive some favor, being the order sponsored by the James family. But I thought the others were equal.
Should have known better.
There is plenty of bias amongst the orders, both because of what they can do and what they believe. The Duelists, for example, are almost as beloved as the Moons. Their members are famous in Victory, at least among the natives. They are also some of the richest knights in Victory, though they spend their wealth on weapons and more training rather than opulent homes and luxury items. They are elites amongst elites.
Then there are the orders that are not liked very much at all. Such as the Order of the Paradise Seekers, a group of saintly knights. Specifically, they see the conquest of the north as a holy mission and think if they manage to complete it, they and their families will be granted access to the perfect afterlife that is Paradise. They also think the hordes of the north are spawns of pure evil bent on the destruction of all living creatures and that Victory is the only thing standing in the way of the end of the world or something just as catastrophic.
The religious fanatics. There’s always some. And just like all fanatics, they have little respect for those who don’t share their views. They follow orders but do they respect their commanders outside their order? Do they respect the James family? No. It makes them a pain to work with, according to a grumbling Alana.
But they aren’t the worst. That honor belongs to the Order of the Rising Dawn. The group that believes that the north is a waste of time. Full of disillusioned knights, mostly from the other orders, their mission is to liberate the younger generations from the curse of constant war.
They spend their money relocating those who want a different life to other parts of the kingdom and loudly advocating for the end of the campaigns. It’s amazing they haven’t been hung off the fort’s walls by their toes. I suppose their service offers them some protection. It does not earn them any favors, as they are placed in a position that will not offer them many chances to make money.
I never imagined there was so much politicking amongst the knights.
At least the rear is simple. There’s a group from the Order of Winter’s Bounty, who are in charge of processing our kills and the other valuables we find. In charge of protecting the rear are the Waking Beasts, the knights with bad tempers. They are also the best scouts in the north apparently. Alana is more concerned about being ambushed than discovering threats. The monsters in this part of the world are not subtle. Besides that, Kierra is acting as our forward scout.
I’m so concerned about our formation and the politics behind the orders because it’s the only things to focus on during the boring march. It’s been three days since the armies separated. Three days with nothing but snow.
The first two days, we spent following in the footsteps of those who went before us. If there were any threats in the area, they were either already taken care of or scared away. All the tension rapidly faded after the first day, the hunters shaking in their boots calming when a titan didn’t fall from the sky. They remained tense, moving forward with the skittish nature of mice without saying a word. Good for safety, very bad for entertainment.
On the third day, we came upon a large stone. Having been a part of the planning, I know this stone, and several others like it, are artificial landmarks to guide the armies. It’s our signal to turn from our straight march and head northeast, more east than north.
From that point on, we are on our own path. The true campaign has begun. Luckily, the day remains uneventful. Or perhaps unluckily. From the mutters I’m hearing, the hunters are getting a little lax. The acolytes are a lot laxer. They didn’t have a good view of the titan, being sheltered behind many knights, and the lack of battle has lowered their guards. There are even a few bastards muttering that the campaign is easier than they expected. Really hope they don’t get themselves killed.
Our camp also looks different than it did while with the others. The tents are arranged in a much tighter circle and metal stakes, sharpened on each end, have been hammered into the ground around them, a safety precaution that’s been implemented since our first night alone. Another precaution is the restriction against fire. Warm meals are important but prolonged fires draw monsters. Only one fire is allowed to burn in the middle of camp, just long enough to cook a meal and not a second longer.
It’s far from a vacation but we are managing fairly well. My household more than the others. Alana has a weaker constitution than some of the knights but is spending the campaign comfortably. Sleeping between her two lovers keeps her warm and she nods off without a care, perfectly assured of her safety. A luxury the rest of the army doesn’t have.
The third night is shaping up to be the same as every night before it, with us huddled together on the floor of a stone shelter erected by my imp, when Rolly appears above our heads, black as a shadow except for the swirling circles of her face. “You’ve got a problem!”
Alana, who was comfortably resting on the elf using her magic to make her stronger, bolts upright. “What kind of problem?” she demands.
“And why hasn’t Geneva said anything?” She’s on night watch.
[Hm? I don’t detect anything.]
“Wind spell. Biiiig zone of silence is spreading toward the camp. Powerful stuff.”
“Silence?! FUCK!”
My future saint leaps into action. She doesn’t even pause to grab her armor before snatching up her sword and dashing out of the tent. We are on her heels as she rips open the flaps of the closest tent, belonging to the ladies of the Stars sent by her father, and snaps, “Reapers incoming!”
The lady knights react the same way as Alana, taking a little longer to slip on their armor before dashing through the camp, yelling about reapers. I shadow Alana, trying to remember what monsters she’s talking about. She mentioned many of the threats we’d be facing but there were so many, the details are hard to keep straight.
[Reapers. Also known as ice prowlers. Doglike monsters that stand on two legs and have opposable thumbs. They are known for using ice as both a means of travel, skating across it, and as weapons. They attack at night using hit and run tactics, weakening their prey over several nights before going for a finishing blow.]
Ice. That has nothing to do with a wind affinity.
[Rarely, reapers will move with crescent goliaths, large herbivorous creatures that avoid predators by projecting a constant zone of silence. It makes them several times more dangerous.]
I hate this place.
“Lou.” With over a dozen people running through the camp, waking the rest of the army, Alana focuses on me. “I need you.”
I keep the grin off my face, knowing this isn’t the time. “Name it.”
She steps closer, lowering her voice. “We don’t fight the reapers. It’s pointless. Their hunting parties contain dozens of fighters and they multiply faster than rabbits. They’re dangerous but cowards. If we rebuff them for two nights, they should leave us alone. However, the goliath changes things. They congregate around them. There could be hundreds coming our way and a group that large needs prey. They won’t stop until they have us. We need to kill that goliath. That’s what holding them together.”
“I see.”
“Take Kii. I need the succubi here to make sure no one dies.”
“Don’t do anything reckless.” A quick glance to my imp that is sitting at her heels to remind her of her role and I take off, Kierra by my side.
“A moment, dedia. If we are hunting a creature these people call a goliath, I will need something larger than my fists.”
“Quickly.”
We stop by our shelter. She dives inside, emerging soon after with a spear and several knives attached to her waist. “Ready.”
Great. Let’s go hunt a goliath.
Our formation as we move deeper into the north is vaguely triangular, the point facing the looming mountains. The base of the triangle, the frontline, contains the bulk of our forces, comprised of the Bleak Moons, the Waning Stars, and the hunters with the capacity to hold back monsters. Another requirement is the courage to confront a titan head on. Because of that, a few eligible hunters were pushed to the back.
Our supplies are in the middle of the formation. Alongside the wagons are the two firing columns, the casters who are more comfortable slinging magic from a distance. Protecting them and the valuable cargo are those who couldn’t or wouldn’t join the frontline.
Behind them are the reserve forces. Those meant to plug any holes or assist any group that needs assisting. This is where the titan-killers, the Polar Duelists, stay, reserving their strength. It is also where the less…desirable soldiers are assigned. I didn’t think there was bias amongst the orders. Well, it’s obvious the Moons might receive some favor, being the order sponsored by the James family. But I thought the others were equal.
Should have known better.
There is plenty of bias amongst the orders, both because of what they can do and what they believe. The Duelists, for example, are almost as beloved as the Moons. Their members are famous in Victory, at least among the natives. They are also some of the richest knights in Victory, though they spend their wealth on weapons and more training rather than opulent homes and luxury items. They are elites amongst elites.
Then there are the orders that are not liked very much at all. Such as the Order of the Paradise Seekers, a group of saintly knights. Specifically, they see the conquest of the north as a holy mission and think if they manage to complete it, they and their families will be granted access to the perfect afterlife that is Paradise. They also think the hordes of the north are spawns of pure evil bent on the destruction of all living creatures and that Victory is the only thing standing in the way of the end of the world or something just as catastrophic.
The religious fanatics. There’s always some. And just like all fanatics, they have little respect for those who don’t share their views. They follow orders but do they respect their commanders outside their order? Do they respect the James family? No. It makes them a pain to work with, according to a grumbling Alana.
But they aren’t the worst. That honor belongs to the Order of the Rising Dawn. The group that believes that the north is a waste of time. Full of disillusioned knights, mostly from the other orders, their mission is to liberate the younger generations from the curse of constant war.
They spend their money relocating those who want a different life to other parts of the kingdom and loudly advocating for the end of the campaigns. It’s amazing they haven’t been hung off the fort’s walls by their toes. I suppose their service offers them some protection. It does not earn them any favors, as they are placed in a position that will not offer them many chances to make money.
I never imagined there was so much politicking amongst the knights.
At least the rear is simple. There’s a group from the Order of Winter’s Bounty, who are in charge of processing our kills and the other valuables we find. In charge of protecting the rear are the Waking Beasts, the knights with bad tempers. They are also the best scouts in the north apparently. Alana is more concerned about being ambushed than discovering threats. The monsters in this part of the world are not subtle. Besides that, Kierra is acting as our forward scout.
I’m so concerned about our formation and the politics behind the orders because it’s the only things to focus on during the boring march. It’s been three days since the armies separated. Three days with nothing but snow.
The first two days, we spent following in the footsteps of those who went before us. If there were any threats in the area, they were either already taken care of or scared away. All the tension rapidly faded after the first day, the hunters shaking in their boots calming when a titan didn’t fall from the sky. They remained tense, moving forward with the skittish nature of mice without saying a word. Good for safety, very bad for entertainment.
On the third day, we came upon a large stone. Having been a part of the planning, I know this stone, and several others like it, are artificial landmarks to guide the armies. It’s our signal to turn from our straight march and head northeast, more east than north.
From that point on, we are on our own path. The true campaign has begun. Luckily, the day remains uneventful. Or perhaps unluckily. From the mutters I’m hearing, the hunters are getting a little lax. The acolytes are a lot laxer. They didn’t have a good view of the titan, being sheltered behind many knights, and the lack of battle has lowered their guards. There are even a few bastards muttering that the campaign is easier than they expected. Really hope they don’t get themselves killed.
Our camp also looks different than it did while with the others. The tents are arranged in a much tighter circle and metal stakes, sharpened on each end, have been hammered into the ground around them, a safety precaution that’s been implemented since our first night alone. Another precaution is the restriction against fire. Warm meals are important but prolonged fires draw monsters. Only one fire is allowed to burn in the middle of camp, just long enough to cook a meal and not a second longer.
It’s far from a vacation but we are managing fairly well. My household more than the others. Alana has a weaker constitution than some of the knights but is spending the campaign comfortably. Sleeping between her two lovers keeps her warm and she nods off without a care, perfectly assured of her safety. A luxury the rest of the army doesn’t have.
The third night is shaping up to be the same as every night before it, with us huddled together on the floor of a stone shelter erected by my imp, when Rolly appears above our heads, black as a shadow except for the swirling circles of her face. “You’ve got a problem!”
Alana, who was comfortably resting on the elf using her magic to make her stronger, bolts upright. “What kind of problem?” she demands.
“And why hasn’t Geneva said anything?” She’s on night watch.
[Hm? I don’t detect anything.]
“Wind spell. Biiiig zone of silence is spreading toward the camp. Powerful stuff.”
“Silence?! FUCK!”
My future saint leaps into action. She doesn’t even pause to grab her armor before snatching up her sword and dashing out of the tent. We are on her heels as she rips open the flaps of the closest tent, belonging to the ladies of the Stars sent by her father, and snaps, “Reapers incoming!”
The lady knights react the same way as Alana, taking a little longer to slip on their armor before dashing through the camp, yelling about reapers. I shadow Alana, trying to remember what monsters she’s talking about. She mentioned many of the threats we’d be facing but there were so many, the details are hard to keep straight.
[Reapers. Also known as ice prowlers. Doglike monsters that stand on two legs and have opposable thumbs. They are known for using ice as both a means of travel, skating across it, and as weapons. They attack at night using hit and run tactics, weakening their prey over several nights before going for a finishing blow.]
Ice. That has nothing to do with a wind affinity.
[Rarely, reapers will move with crescent goliaths, large herbivorous creatures that avoid predators by projecting a constant zone of silence. It makes them several times more dangerous.]
I hate this place.
“Lou.” With over a dozen people running through the camp, waking the rest of the army, Alana focuses on me. “I need you.”
I keep the grin off my face, knowing this isn’t the time. “Name it.”
She steps closer, lowering her voice. “We don’t fight the reapers. It’s pointless. Their hunting parties contain dozens of fighters and they multiply faster than rabbits. They’re dangerous but cowards. If we rebuff them for two nights, they should leave us alone. However, the goliath changes things. They congregate around them. There could be hundreds coming our way and a group that large needs prey. They won’t stop until they have us. We need to kill that goliath. That’s what holding them together.”
“I see.”
“Take Kii. I need the succubi here to make sure no one dies.”
“Don’t do anything reckless.” A quick glance to my imp that is sitting at her heels to remind her of her role and I take off, Kierra by my side.
“A moment, dedia. If we are hunting a creature these people call a goliath, I will need something larger than my fists.”
“Quickly.”
We stop by our shelter. She dives inside, emerging soon after with a spear and several knives attached to her waist. “Ready.”
Great. Let’s go hunt a goliath.
