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(Flashback) Usurping Command - Dane Regan - 05-25-2017
Quote:Dane has this flashback/dream just after This post in "A nice change in scenery".
Demons were aggressive, horrible, mutilated creatures. But what truly made them terrifying was their intelligence - soldiers were never taught how to combat it. Demons coordinated their attacks with the sole purpose of maximising damage. It was disgusting; the cause was unknown, they just seemed to be guided with the aim - perhaps an intelligent one - of ending the world. Dane's world. Any form of self preservation was simply missing. They were offensive attackers, flinging claws and teeth at their opponents, aiming to tear and consume flesh. A small hoard could be devastating to an unprotected village.
And so, the borders could never be left unprotected. Many men were conscripted to hold the choke-points civilisation had fallen back to. But sometimes that wasn't enough. Sometimes they broke though. Sometimes they threatened further towns inland, ones presumed to be safe. Nowhere was, not really.
That's where the less trained militia came in. Being newer, fresher recruits, many still had a year or two before they'd find themselves in truer combat. Dane was one of them, much to his annoyance. He'd jumped on the military training bandwagon at a much younger age than required. Front-line combat was not something he wanted. He didn't doubt his ability, he just wanted to be the one giving orders, instead of the one taking them. Everything was too organised. All military regimes, and protocols worked like clockwork. Which would have been fine, besides the fact the many glaring assumptions and flaws in said protocols. Hence Dane's desire to change them from the inside.
Originally, yes, he just wanted to get an early edge at combat. Any advantage he could get would be useful given the likely chance of an early demise. But, over time, he developed his own methods. Better methods, of fighting and magic. In those particular cases, the system was wrong. If you were born with talent, you were trained until you fell flat or made it to the top. A swordsman was more useful than a poor caster was the logic that followed. Which was true. The only problem was, what happens if you get a swordsman who's also a bad caster? Someone like that: much more useful.
"But it's not worth the effort." "Spending a day practicing magic is not as useful as a day honing the blade, for someone with weaker magic at least."
Which was flat out wrong. Magic was just theory, and mentality. You can practice both at once, particularly core magic - which everyone was gifted with, at least to some extent. It was sort of like a phantasmal muscle. It could be influenced by "thinking", or "willing" something to occur. Sort of. It was more complicated than that, but everyone had the capability, and most people uses it to a lesser extent accidentally - such as when you really want to succeed at a physical challenge. Anyway, it was simply will based. Something that was very easy to teach, and very hard to master. But even the slightest degree of skill was much more valuable than any military officer or court mage would ever let out.
Dane could never understand why. He presumed it was because they wanted to limit control of magic to the noble bloodlines. Even in war, people were selfish arseholes. Having a talented mage born outside of a bloodline would usually cause the individual to be invited inside the closed circle. Any magical knowledge was closely guarded.
Regardless of Dane's distaste for the system, there was little he could do. At least, there was little he could do at this moment in time. That said, he vowed to himself to at least prevent harm to those the battalion he was assigned to was meant to protect. If that meant butting heads with his commander, so be it. It wasn't his fault the guy was an idiot. Steve Ishmir followed the handbook to the letter. Every letter. Even if the handbook hadn't accounted to the very rare situation of being at a mountain lake in the middle of a thunderstorm and all common sense defied walking across the water in plated metal armour, he'd still demand it should the route be quicker. Which at one point it was. The lake itself was large and shallow. And the land surrounding it was as high as it, yet still flat. It was an unnecessary risk not worth taking, and there was no need to rush.
Luckily, nothing happened on that past endurance training mission. However, Dane had no confidence in the guy to make the right decisions in protecting the village they'd just arrived in. Still, he had two days to make a difference. But, he wasn't going to try anything rash without at least a tad more information. Which was exactly what Dane planned to obtain upon entering the commanders tent.
Nodding at the guard, Dane knew him as John Drake, he opened his mouth to talk to the commander. "What's the situation, sir? Last I heard the Demon's eta was two days. Do we have a battle plan?" he asked, gulping as Ishmir sneered at him.
"Why should I tell you anything? You are just a solider. And you will do as I say."
Great, Dane thought, he was drunk. As usual. He'd be sober tomorrow evening, Dane knew. He wasn't so irresponsible he'd drink on the eve of battle, at least. Still, in the morning he'd be hungover, and in the afternoon he'd start executing plans. And Dane didn't want him to start doing the wrong thing. If Dane was honest with himself, he'd admit he probably found faults in Ishmir's technique when there were none. He hated the guy's guts. He hated having to treat him with undeserved respect. Anyone can follow a rulebook. Dane was better than that. He could make and justify his own rules. Act on the spot. Think fast on his feet. This guy here was an insult to his existence. Age truly did mean little: he wasn't allowed to jump on the officer track until age nineteen at least. He was seventeen, a capable adult. He should be treated as such.
But he wasn't. So he had to deal with it. "I'm your impromptu second in command. I've been training with this squad for almost the longest. And I am one of the strongest combatants." And the only one who can use magic. "I have a right to know my future orders."
"Ah... an egotistical deserter. Get out of my sight."
Deserter? What? How did he come to that conclusion?
"Forgive me sir, but I don't follow. I do not plan to desert. Nor are any of my claims unfounded." Dane stepped forwards and looked down at the tactical map. "Any of the longstanding men will agree I am a skilled combatant. Though I'm sure some of the new additions won't know me well enough to form any opinion."
Ishmir growled and pulled the map off the table, scattering pieces on the floor. "If you had any brains, you'd know what I have planned. Clearly the best and most intellectual choice: you fool." He stood up and re-positioned the map, before continuing in a haughty voice, like Dane should be privileged to hear his explanation. "We will leave the village and march west, away from the Demons to the Griven Ford, and hold them back there. We cannot risk any Demons breaching through to the inner Kingdoms."
"And of the villagers?" Dane made his face look as calm as he could, trying to keep emotion out of his voice.
"The fools should follow if they know what's good for them."
"Have you not considered that, should we leave now, we will not reach the ford for a week, even longer if slowed down by civilians. The demons could catch up to us."
"Our men are not slow. And if the civilians have to run to keep up, so be it. 'Tis a fair plan." Drake interjected from the entrance.
Dane gritted his teeth. "Then why are we not leaving now." He stressed the last word.
"Because, you cretin, you soldiers can easily make it there in time. And I want a rest." Ishmir was infuriating. He wasn't wrong per se. Theoretically, the soldiers and the villagers could reach the ford using the standard figures for a civilian forced march pace. They had enough carts and horses. It was possible. And from some perspectives it may have even been a better option. Dane slowed his breathing and focused. Spells always calmed his mind, so he cast a simple, undetectable, muffle charm on the tent. No sound in. No sound out. It required just enough focus to keep him less occupied on his anger.
"You're risking lives just because you want a rest? No. I will not stand for this. Step down, or hold the town. The demons will come here. It's impossible that they won't. They don't care about who they eat. They just want human flesh, and thus they will drift towards this very village. Even if we are defeated, or they push past us regardless, our army's reinforcements would meet them just west of the ford on their scheduled march to the frontlines. If we stay, less lives will be risked. Holding a town is easier than holding a road. Demon hordes cannot coordinate in-"
"ENOUGH!" Ishmir interrupted. "You will not tell me how to do my job. I am paid to tell you what to do, and you will do it. We will follow my plan. It is the protocol. Don't presume to know tactics just because you read a few books, child." He paused. "Drake, escort this boy from my quarters."
Dane held up his palm towards Drake in a gesture to prompt him not to get too close. "No. I will not leave until you concede that your foolish following of the rules is needlessly endangering lives. Stop being lazy and think for yourself for once."
"Fuck you." Ishmir threw a punch towards Dane, and time seemed to slow down.
A slam echoed throughout the tent as Ishmir's body collided with the table in one smooth unnoticeable motion. Drake watched silently, beckoning Dane to leave now before things got worse.
"You will concede your command to me." Unfortunately, Dane believed continuing this was the very thing that would stop things getting worse.
Ishmir snarled, pulled himself up, and grabbed the sword conveniently (or inconveniently) placed by his side. "You may not be a deserter, but you will be permanently leaving my service for this." He swung it loosely at Dane.
Seconds later, the same blade was buried in his throat. His last words were correct. Dane did, indeed, permanently leave his service.
Before even considering his actions, Dane looked up at Drake. Eyes locked for a brief second before Drake turned and yelled. "Traitor! Dane is a-"
He got no further before the same sword found itself buried in his back. He never got to leave the tent. And his voice met none but Dane.
Quote:I won't tell you what to think of this. Evil, greater good, rash emotional teenager. I didn't think dragging out a fight was the best way to do this, so I killed them off quickly.
RE: (Flashback) Usurping Command - Dane Regan - 08-23-2017
Blood pooled onto the floor staining the carpeted tent. All sounds of combat were muffled by his magic. No one else knew what had occurred here, and in Dane's mind, they didn't need to know. This was a good thing after all, for him, the soldiers, and even the village. If he acted quickly he could secure leadership for himself, take to the field, and organise the defence swiftly and efficiently enough to gain a victory. Sure he hadn't done that before, but it wasn't like Ishmir was a renowned commander himself. No, victory here was assured providing the troops followed Dane's orders, his strategy. Of that, Dane was certain. The only problem was trying to prevent the men from running around like headless chickens at the loss of their previous leader and one of their existing men. As well as actually gaining his place at the top of the command chain.
Scenarios ran through Dane's mind. He could come clean, say he killed Ishmir and Drake because they were planning to order everyone to abandon the village. Death as a 'punishment' for that would be seen as extreme and disobeying anyone higher up than you in the leadership chain was usually a death sentence. The sudden loss also would make it hard for him to obtain leadership, there would surely be others who would capitalise on it. Alternatively, he could clean up, hide the bodies, and say they deserted, but that had similar risks to before. There would also surely be a large drop in morale, and while he could possibly take command as the one giving the news, it would be unlikely that the soldiers would actually function well. These people were mostly militia, and none of them had fought any full fledged demons before, just the odd captive weakling used for soldier training.
Which was why Dane supposed the possibility that Ishmir and Drake were not dead, and he was merely giving their orders to the men. At least until it was too late for that to matter. That would be the truth, as far as his men knew. And once the fight started, the lack of Ishmir would have no impact - they'd be accustomed to his orders by then. Some people would initially be sceptical, but forging or faking paperwork to support his claims would be easy. He already had all the supplies, and after looking through Ishmir's pocket he also had the man's insignia. Just a few scribbles and a stamp. Most people here didn't even know what made the paperwork valid in the first place, and Ishmir was known to be lazy, so even if Dane's "proof" looked to be half-arsed, that could add to the authenticity somewhat.
He still had to consider what would actually happen if someone asked to see Ishmir as proof, or wondered where Drake was. For that Dane decided he'd quietly tell the asker that it was classified information, but that it'd help secure them the battle. It was dumb, but so were quite a lot of the soldiers here. Dane had a fairly good reputation for himself, so he was confident that if he acted confident he'd succeed here.
Swiftly, he began cleaning up the tent. The carpeted floor was simple, he could actually get away with simply flipping it upside down. Beyond that, he just had to clean up his swords and clothing, and quickly hide some bodies. It was night, so outside of those on watch at the edge of the camp, no one should notice him. He was good at being quiet and stealthy, anyway - sticking to the shadows had always been a talent of his. Annoyingly, he had tended to simply blend in during other events, likely resulting in his lack of official support for putting him on the commander training regime.
Somewhat surprisingly, the initial part of his plan went off without a hitch. He prepared the materials he needed and got a short rest, waiting for sunrise. The only had so long to prepare, and while barricades were typically useless against such monsters, they could serve as a short delay and to allow for slight final adjustments in troop positioning. The core problem in strategising against demons was accounting for their sheer suicidal lust for blood, for killing. If they were smart, they would flank and surround the town, then engulf. But then, they weren't intelligent, so they'd likely mob together and just charge in at one point. Except there was no guarantee to at least some wouldn't break off and take to the weaker flanks, should one side solely be reinforced.
Ishmir's plan had been to fall back so they could reliably fight the demons in a straight narrower area, preventing flanking opportunities. It was fair, but it risked the village, and that could not be allowed. Dane's idea revolved around how the many lingering human scents in a village could confuse the monsters. While they didn't seem to prioritise weaker targets, happily charging into a line of soldiers, some would stray hoping to get their own kills. It was almost competitive for them, who can slaughter the most people before dying. Disgusting.
"James, follow me. We're scouting out the town. There's a day at most before we'll be balls deep in a mob of demons, so let's see about setting up some defences and getting a good idea of the area." Raising a wad of papers, Dane continued, "Ishmir's orders."
James followed with little resistance while Dane barked out another selection of commands. He had a pair rotation system set up for the far hill, just in case the demons appeared early. Besides that, he had a couple of other groups scouting the town, although their purpose was to organise the residents and get them all organised in the town centre. Lastly, he ordered everyone else to transport their supplies inwards to one of the wider alleys. The fight could be over quickly, but having food and meds wasn't a bad thing. It was possible for the townspeople to find a cellar to barricade themselves in, for example.
So, overall, ignoring the two potentially unnecessary deaths and the possibility of impending doom, things were looking good for Dane and his objective.
RE: (Flashback) Usurping Command - Dane Regan - 09-03-2017
The street layouts were better than Dane has hoped. In this case, that meant they were seemingly random, making the small town like a maze. The town centre was still in the centre and setting up fortifications with old carts and wagons as well as with spare wood and other materials wasn't hard. It probably wouldn't hold, and simply climbing over wasn't too taking, although it was awkward and would certainly leave anyone doing so vulnerable to arrows and attacks from range. This wouldn't be a large scale fight after all. There wouldn't be more than 100 individuals on the battlefield at once - that was few enough for him to individually micro-manage most of his men.
That said, there was a core problem. One rookie soldier was thought to be the same in strength as one average demon. Which was fair. But, Dane had fewer soldiers than there were predicted to be demons. Maintaining his low casualty aim would be hard if he just let this stay a standing battle. Falling back to the ford would have had the same problem. And at that location, there wouldn't have been time to prepare. Here, however, there was. Some token wooden spikes were also wedged and nailed between the barricades. And although the demons could easily scale both them and the houses, Dane's plan was for it to offer a reasonable enough delay to reposition troops, and for it to spread their forces.
With the demons spread out rather than as a large mod, two soldiers could fight one target, massively increasing their chances of survival. Initially, the town had panicked upon the news that demons would be coming here, and some civilians had attempted to flee. Dane had actually ordered the soldiers to prevent that, forcing them to stay. Some were disagreeable, but the end result was the whole populace either being in the town hall or in the food storage area underneath it. If the town did get overrun, there were enough supplies there easily sustain the populace and any wounded soldiers until a relief effort came. Although Dane couldn't afford to lose this. He was technically defying protocol. Should they lose, there was no guarantee the demons would stay. They could move on and push forwards to other towns prior to any other forces being able to protect them.
Not that he was going to lose. Demons were stupid. Dane was smart. It was as simple as that. With the soldiers organised and accustomed to following his orders, he had just two things left to do. Fortifications were still being added with some of the townspeople helping, so he felt no need to oversee them. The sun was still high in the sky, so he easily had time.
Stepping into the town hall, he spoke. "Who here has experience with magic?" He flicked his wrist, sending a small spray of sparks flying from his hand, serving to draw attention from the populace and most of the soldiers. Many of which didn't know he was capable of such cantrips. "Get back to work," Dane grunted, tilting his head back in their direction. To his surprise, he actually got a couple of "yes sir"s in response, although his intended audience was silent. Country mages were rare, often discriminated against by some due to their 'privilege' and 'luck' in life. In truth, those that remained at their homes often actually lacked the mana or magical prowess to be useful to the Mages' Guild - so had neither of those things. Anyone could reach their ability with training, just as Dane was working towards.
"Don't worry about your skill or mana, we may have need of your assistance. I can provide a short tutoring covering anything left unknown to you, and I can promise you shall be rewarded in any way you desire - to the best of my ability." Still silence. The crowd shuffled slightly, but no one came forwards. There were a few looks towards one of the groups within the mass, but Dane couldn't identify anyone in particular. With regards to training, Dane knew the theory and workings behind a lot more than he himself was capable of. "Just basic knowledge is fine. All I need is people who are naturally magically sensitive, or have some skill in the area." More shuffling. He shrugged, appearing to forget the topic but in actuality moving it down on his list of objectives.
Dane's philosophy in these instances was simple. Focus on what you can do, not what you can't. Don't waste time on useless endeavours or those that bare no fruit, but instead pursue other objectives or work around the lack of progress. That, of course, doesn't mean you can't think about the objective and plan a better method or even divert small unneeded amounts of your attention towards it while focusing on another pressing matter.
"On that note, who has martial training? I don't expect any of you to take the front lines, or even risk your lives - that's the job of my men - but as per the regulations some of you should have been trained with the bow." Dane shifted his arm, causing the papers in his hand to shuffle. On the back was a small list of names of people in the area next to a small checklist. Presumably one of the people saw it, or just simply decided to come forward willingly, steps inaudible over the sound of hammers. The windows of the building were beginning to be covered by wood, although Dane had already prepared candles for that event. After the first person, others followed. He didn't bother to ask for names, but he actually ended up with more people than he was expecting. He assumed this was because some were hunters, legally or not, they'd honed their skill with the bow.
"Follow me." Dane turned around, exiting the hall without an explanation. Tentatively, the men followed him. It felt strange to order people twice his age, especially considering he was so young for a 'commander'. He dismissed it as an unneeded but ingrained part of the social hierarchy. He was smart. Age didn't matter.
Dane gestured towards a stack of unstrung bows in a large basket with some of the loose strings nearby. "Take one and string it up. If you don't know how, ask your mother or somethin'. If you've forgotten how to use it, now's a good time to say so." Despite his detached and someone vague commands, he received no complaints, the men obey his orders without question. Confidence is everything, it seems.
"Alright, form a line along her. You seven, by the right of the door. You six, by the left. Leave a gap in the middle, I want that door to stay open until I say otherwise. Dane was strangely thankful for one thing, the Door was a push door from the outside, meaning someone on the inside would have to pull it to open it. Technically, that meant it was slower to exit the building, but it did mean it was easier to leave the door open and easier to barricade. He made a mental note to situate the bookcase next to it so it could quickly be moved to block off once it was closed. Not that he expected to need to close it, but there was a slight possibility that falling back to the town centre would be necessary.
"Arrows coming through, get out of the way," Dane yelled down the road ahead. There were only two men there, apparently finishing off the closer barricade in the road. If his men were trained, at least somewhat, then there shouldn't be a problem. But there was no point taking unnecessary risks.
With no human targets in the way, Dane was free to start the quick practice. "You each have three arrows in your quiver. I want you to fire three volleys. The first should go over the first barricade. The second should just reach over the second. The third should just go over the third. These bows and strings are strong, I want you all using the full draw. You have muscles, so no excuses. If you need additional practice to get warmed up, then so be it. We've got some hours."
Grabbing another bow, Dane joined them. They likely had more training than he did, but with some subtle magic drawing the bow was easy enough. He just had the angles for certain distances memorised. With only three positions to remember, rather than actual training, organising the small group of archers wouldn't be hard. So that's what he did.
Over the next hour, he drilled the positions into their small country brains. The sky was beginning to turn slightly orange as the sun started to approach one of the hills, but he deemed there was still time left. Reasonably, there wouldn't be a caster in the small town. But given the people's reactions, he guessed there was one about. Searching for magic with his limited mana was hard, but that was the next thing on his agenda. Even untrained, a mage could always be of use, regardless of what the guild and soldier academy thought.
He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Like he was overlooking something incredibly simple. Deciding it was just nerves, he suppressed the thought.
RE: (Flashback) Usurping Command - Dane Regan - 09-13-2017
The bow militia was passable. Dane doubted they'd actually be able to aim proficiently, but he'd drilled the relevant angles into their heads. Any demons heading down that particular street would likely get hit by at least one of the men. That still didn't change the fact that, quite frankly, the men he had to work with were pretty crap. More suited for a town guard to make the populace think they're well protected than to actually proficiently fight something. Dane was very aware that his forces were intended to simply be a delay effort, and rooting through Ishmirs papers had confirmed that fact.
Dane did find it amusing how easily everyone obeyed him and marvelled that if this worked out, and he was able to successfully push forwards the claim that Ishmir and Drake's deaths were caused by the demons, they'd have no choice but to put him on the officer course. He found it strange how uncaring he was about the loss of two lives. Two people. He knew nothing about Drake or Ishmir's lives outside of how they operated within the military. There could be people missing them. He could have ruined the lives of other families as well.
Yet, he didn't care.
Nothing.
It was an efficient and beneficial way for him to deal with an issue. Drake's death was a shame, but it was also necessary. Ishmir's was a blessing to the world. An incompetent soldier, especially one with actual authority, was significantly more dangerous than any foe. Dane supposed that the only reason why Ishmir was able to maintain his rank was how he followed protocol to the letter. Although that was likely why he never reached a higher stage. Protocol didn't explain how to deal with more intricate situations like the one Dane was in right now, nor did it provide good instructions for dealing with civilians - just when and where to move them.
For textbook battle tactics, it was great. And for something like demons who likely wouldn't survive many battles, it was unlikely any would ever reach the point where they were able to abuse the limited and fixed ways Ishmir had to deal with them. That said, they were still smart. In a field skirmish, they'd no doubt win. Heck, in a ford battle, they'd still probably win. The ideal way was to simply divide and conquer, not a standard 'hold the line'. Hence why Dane had barricades and such to thin out the demons.
Dane walked back into the town hall under the guise of checking the wood barring the windows. In reality, he was sensing magic. His intuition was telling him there had to be at least one. Someone who was at least slightly magically sensitive. And the slight movement he kept catching by the side of his vision affirmed that suggestion. He kept catching faint wisps. Trails of mana left by someone, consciously or otherwise. Most likely otherwise if they really were avoiding him.
Again he caught the flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, but restraining himself, he again didn't jerk his head to follow. He continued, acting naturally as he busied himself with checking the sturdiness of the wood. With a small amount of force, he pulled, a thin plank snapped in half.
Turning around, he spoke, catching a similar flicker of movement a further time which helped to narrow down his list of suspects to three. "This isn't good enough. If I can break this with my, ahem, 'well toned' muscles, then a demon sure as hell ain't gonna have any trouble. Someone get this replaced. And if you have more spare wood, try and double up what you've got so far."
Dane moved towards the prospect mages, probing the area with his limited magic. He had about as much as the average town person, so it was near impossible to sense him back, he was just very proficient at manipulating it. That said, they did know of his interest towards magic, so were likely wary, and were probably confused due to his lack of perceivable mana pool, should they actually have been mages.
"You three, come with me." There was definitely magic in one of them, he wasn't sure which but he suspected it was probably the man - he had black hair and was about Dane's age. With him were two girls, both probably a similar age to him, maybe younger. They looked like twins, although one of the brunettes had shorter hair than the other. "Why you? Because you three are the youngest looking people who haven't already gone to the cellar. You'll be missed the least should physical work be needed."
"Are you calling me weak?" The man stepped forwards.
"No. I just need three people for a more intellectual task. Now, follow me."
The twins looked at each other, wordlessly agreeing that following Dane was the best course of action.
"Follow me."
Dane span around, not looking to see if they were following. He knew they would. There was a slight lingering fear, maybe even respect, towards him. After all, he technically wasn't an adult yet, but he seemed to be coordinating all the military efforts to protect the town.
An hour or two remained until nightfall, perhaps three until the demons would be present. Likely longer, but Dane wasn't taking chances. The preparations were already set up, the scouts were almost done sorting out torches and camps to light the fields. Thankfully, tonight the skies would be clear and the moon would shine nearly in full.
All that remained was to determine if there was any benefit he could gleam, either for himself or the battle in general, from the three teenagers trailing behind him. Even if none were competent casters, he could simply channel their magic to himself for a temporary boost of abilities. Or, teach them something quickly. If someone has the mana, casting spells should be second nature.
The real question lingering in Dane's mind was why they hid. Did they not want the village to know? That was understandable. Whatever the reason, Dane figured he'd try to honour it.
RE: (Flashback) Usurping Command - Dane Regan - 10-05-2017
Dane swept his hand across the table of Ishmir's former office, sweeping off all the contents and sitting on the hard wood. This put his head just above the eye level of his small audience.
"I'm going to do us all a favour and get the boring fluff out of the way, I suggest you three do the same." The trio looked at each other, but Dane continued unphased by their confusion, distrust, wariness, or whatever emotions and thoughts were going through their heads. "At least one of you three has magical ability. I don't know your reasons for hiding it, and quite frankly I don't care - I give my word that none of you will come to harm providing those with magic step forward." He relaxed, hoping to appear genuine despite his unorthodox attitude to these discussions.
Half-words and quiet mutterings reached Dane's ears before the male straightened his back, glaring at Dane. "Are you threatening us?"
Blinking, Dane realised how the man came to that conclusion. "No. I just won't protect you any more than everyone else if you don't do as I ask - and I certainly won't do anything afterwards. You help me save the town, you get lots of fun perks and rewards. You choose to selfishly sit on your arse, then I'm less likely to be able to protect the town fully and, in the event I do succeed, I leave as if I never met you." That was a lie. Dane planned to keep talking and shifting deals until he got a response he liked. He wasn't even sure he could give them anything afterwards. He just wanted to make his job easier.
Luckily, one came.
The twin with the longer hair stepped forward, pushing past her friends. She smirked, much to Dane's confusion. He expected her to be more tentative or fearful. "I can do magic. He's tried." She pointed to her male friend, before gesturing to her sister. "And she's devoid of almost all mana. I guess we'll have to let you into our little circle."
"Ivy!" Her sister yelped, voice cracking.
The male shrugged, shaking his head disapprovingly. "I guess there's not much I can do at this point." He looked towards Ivy. "You shouldn't have said that." Turning towards Dane, he glared, beginning to open his mouth, only to be cut off.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm untrustworthy or whatever." Dane waved his hand idly before glancing at Ivy. "First off, why were you hiding this? And secondly, describe your capabilities... Also," Dane gestured to the other two, "you two can go, or stay for moral support - or just because you don't trust me. I don't care."
Ivy cut off the responses her friends planned to make, opting to make herself the face of the group. "There were some nasty rumours about what the magical conscription team does with twins." Dane raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose you're aware of the stigma against mages around here?"
Dane nodded. "I haven't heard those rumours though. Where did they come from? And, anyway, I had a twin brother. Although he wasn't scouted out - they do probably know of my existence. Nothing bad happened to me."
"I overheard a few conversations between the recruiters." She paused. "I can be sneaky when I need to."
"Smart." Dane didn't press that matter further. "Anyway, to reiterate, your capabilities?"
She straightened her spine, stretching her hands upwards with interlocking fingers so that her palms flexed towards to roof of the tent. Her knuckles cracked, and then her wrists, followed by her back and eventually her neck (which she twisted). Her sister winced in disgust, and her other friend was trying to remain stalwart while obviously being uncomfortable. Dane didn't care, nor react. He waited for her verbal response.
Relaxing, she raised her head, speaking uniformly and listing an array of magic disciplines and topics off her fingers. Notably, all were either basic, or solely reliant on having a lot of mana. Simple projections of power, she could do. But anything fine, or even aimed, was unlikely. The only anomaly was her ability to use stealth magic. Which was strange, to say the least. He guessed there was an innate pathological path, which tended to be common enough in untrained high strength mages, but typically led to accidental usage or inefficiencies. The latter was more typical.
He hopped off the table, pivoted off his front foot, and threw a punch towards her face. It was a good swing. Subconsciously, Dane was almost sad that it would never connect.
She vanished and, a fraction of a second later, Dane's fist stopped a centimetre from where her face was.
Slap!
Dane's jaw snapped to the side from the unforeseen strike, the familiar burning of mana singed his cheek. He laughed. Ivy's friends stared in shock.
"Innate and impulsive magic it is then. Damn. You must be pretty good to keep this hidden, even in the outskirts."
Ivy reappeared a split second later, glaring. "You could have just asked."
"Where's the fun in that? Anyway, I wasn't actually going to hit you." Probably.
She glanced at the burn mark on his face while holding out an arm to stop her friends from doing anything. "Whatever. I guess we're even. Don't do that again."
As expected, she was annoyed. If his judgements were correct, that was a good thing. He could use that to make her more competitive, reinforce her motives, and ultimately maximise her magical potential. Fear and anger were all well and good, but a strong mental drive for something was much better when it came to innate strength. Dane's brother found that out the hard way.
"And what if I do?"
"Your face will somehow end up looking even worse, if that's even possible."
"Try me. Hit me again, kiddo." Dane grinned slightly, but remained relaxed, making no attempt to ready his guard to block and dodge. "Go on. I dare you."
Ivy grimaced, having to actually rely on her own focus to use magic. A few seconds later, she disappeared. Dane stood perfectly still for three more seconds, counting them in his head; nothing happened over this time besides Ivy's companions stepping back. At the end of the time, he bent his knees slightly, as if to duck, then jumped to the side. He spun in the air, outstretching and moving his further leg towards his previous position, using a faint green glimmer as a guideline.
He wasn't wearing hard boots, nor did the action have much force behind it, but it did connect solidly with Ivy's head, immediately ending her spell. "Magic isn't everything kiddo. You're too predictable."
She rubbed the top of her head, adjusting her hair slightly in the process. "That was just luck. There's no way you could have known where I was."
"Trade secret. I'll tell you if we win."
"Win?"
"Let's define it as saving the town. The fortifications are up and the men are rested. We've got two to ten hours until the action starts. So, I suggest we get started on a game plan with you three."
"I'm sticking with her." The male interrupted.
"Sure, whatever dude." Dane shrugged. "Your choice. I would propose you two either stick with me, or take to the top of the building." He looked at Ivy's sister. "You should probably stick to the cellar. You'll be safe, and your sister will be fine. If anyone dies, it'll be my men."
Some further arguments were had, and the final arrangement actually had Ivy and her friend by the doorway - with her sister only offering token resistance to being separated. The duo by the door were apparently orphans, although, even knowing this, Dane found it strange that no one criticised them seeing combat - he'd handed the male weapons (although the man probably didn't know how to use them). Dane figured everyone was just mindlessly accepting his decisions at this point, which he found annoying as he actually had alibies, explanations, or arguments to use for basically everything anyone could say.
It wasn't much longer until the sun set, and by that point, Dane called in everyone but the few scouts around the town border and the top of the hill. They had pyres to light, and demons were known to sometimes give off a faint red glow, so he wasn't worried about being surprised. At this point, it was just a waiting game.