01-16-2017, 02:26 AM
Kelly was quiet as he accompanied Hiro down the front steps of Darkshire's town hall. For all that the meeting with the town's military commander had been brief, it had given him a lot to think about.
He and the hacker were going to be used as elite infantry, and to counter enemy primes. That much was in line with what Kelly had expected, and didn't merit much further thought. Atelos himself had been interesting - he came down a bit heavy on the stoic commander persona, but it was a useful enough affectation, and he seemed competent. No, what had the psychic distracted were the charts and maps that had been strewn across the table in the war-room, every detail of which were now preserved in his remarkable memory. With concentration, he could see them as clearly in his mind's eye as if the table were still in front of him.
The strategic situation isn't awful. We have fortifications, and the field has been prepared. There are archers on the walls, and magical support. Our infantry is stretched a little bit thinner than I'd like, but the formations are mobile enough to compensate... hm. With the resources at hand, I don't think I could have done much better. Atelos knows how to defend a city.
Stepping down onto the rain-slick cobbles, Kelly grimaced.
The issue is the interior. On the off-chance the enemy commander is extremely clever, and has spent a few months preparing this, the approaching army could be a feint for an infiltration - a distraction that can't be ignored. If that's the case, they' ll have succeeded in luring the bulk of the city's forces outside of the walls.
Unfortunately, that remote strategic possibility isn't something I'm in a position to address right now . Even if I was sure Atelos, or Skendor, if I could find him, would listen me, Darkshire has barely one-thousand infantry. That's too few to be able to divert any forces from the primary defensive lines without creating an opening. I'll have to be satisfied that if our enemies are being unexpectedly subtle, they're going to encounter at least one major tactical stumbling block.
The traveler thought of towering, seemingly indestructible Okor, stalking through Darkshire finding his 'flock', and the grimace turned to a thin smile.
It was beginning to rain again, a light, freezing drizzle. The damp haze caught the hearth-glow from the few windows in the square that remained lit, twinkling in the night as though attempting a sorry substitution for the absent stars.
"What are you smiling about?" slurred Hiro, rubbing his temples. "We just got a 'go die for your country' speech from a roman dude wearing a cape, and you look like you left a whoopie-cushion on his chair. That is deeply unsettling, man."
Kelly clapped the tired swordsman on the kimono-clad shoulder, setting his face in a more amiable grin. "I was just thinking that based on what I saw of the battle-plan they're working up in there, our chances are pretty good. Of course, we're probably going to end up in the vanguard, so 'pretty good' is relative. Still, it's not like neither of us has done this before."
Not that I have a clear recollection of how it went...
Hiro didn't answer. Instead, the Greatest Swordsman in the Omniverse thrust his hands into the pockets of coat, turned his face towards the clouds and gave a loud sigh. His breath sent a billowing cloud of condensation into the air, where it vanished in the rain.
The two Primes wound their way back through the midnight alleys and avenues of Darkshire to the street where they had first met, scant hours before. They walked together, but each man was alone with his thoughts. When they arrived, the city gates of Darkshire were barred against the night, and men with torches walked the walls. The lights were on in the gatehouse, shining from the arrow-slits in the gray stone tower.
Kelly pounded on the gatehouse door with his staff, counted to twenty, and then pounded again, calling, "Hello? This is Kelly MacAryn. I was here earlier? The Commander sent me."
Several seconds later, a panel in the door slid aside. A pair of eyes appeared for a moment, then the panel slid closed again, and the door opened. The torchlight from inside the gaurdhouse painted the Primes in shades of orange, casting their elongated silhouettes onto the cobbles behind them. In front of them was a Darkshire soldier that neither the psychic nor the swordsman recognized. The man looked annoyed.
"You're the Prime we had in lockup," he said.
Kelly nodded, blowing a stray strand of wet hair out of his face, and smiled. "Yes. And I do appreciate the loan of the cell. I was in serious need of a place to rest."
Hiro and the guard both stared at him. "They locked you up?" asked the cyber-samurai. The psychic shrugged. "I can't blame them. I'd had a pretty bad night, and I'm sure I looked like a remarkably suspicious character." Hiro gave him a very blank look."No shit. I can't imagine why, mister thanks-his-captors."
"No harm was done," said Kelly, "and it never hurts to be polite. But that's beside the point." He turned his attention back to the guard. "Commander Atelos instructed us to meet with the Sargeant outside the gate for our unit assignments?"
The guard grumbled. "We just sealed these gates," he said. "Just got the camp set up outside the walls. We're not going to open them again without orders - but there's a ladder you can use. Follow me."
The man led the way into the gatehouse, up several flights of stairs, past bunks, a common-room, and a small armory, to the top of the tower, where a rope ladder lay curled against the parapet. Beyond the walls, a hundred campfires shone in the dark, illuminating tents, wooden barricades, earthworks, and men-at-arms, busy even at this late hour.
The ladder bounced and shook as it unfurled down the side of Darkshire's walls. The guard said, "The sargeant-at-arms in charge of personnel is in the tent directly in front of the gate. You can't miss it."
He looked at the two Primes expectantly.
"Got it," said Hiro without enthusiasm, and began to climb.
"Thank you," said Kelly, and followed.
The sargeant they were looking for turned out to be the same slightly-sickly looking man who had offered Kelly the cell in the gatehouse basement. After giving them permission to enter, he frowned as they ducked through the flap of his moth-eaten tent, looking up from a pile of maps and charts which he'd been studying by lantern-light, piled on a crude wooden table.
"It's about time you showed up," he said. The frown deepened. "Aren't there supposed to be three of you?"
Kelly shook his head. "Okor is staying in the city for now, I'm afraid."
The soldier was clearly annoyed, but bit back whatever venom was on his mind, remaining all business despite his obvious fatigue. "Fine," he said, waving them over, and the Primes crowded around the table.
"You," he said, pointing at Kelly, "are going here." He indicated a unit near the front of the defensive line. "Just behind the vanguard. I've seen you fight, and I know you're smart. Look for the unit in half-plate armor with the green armbands. They're good men."
The sargeant turned to Hiro. "You I don't know," he said. "But I'm guessing you're a swordsman, and judging by the make of that blade I'm guessing you're fast. How fast, exactly?"
"You're looking at the fastest swordsman in the Omniverse," said the tired technologist, failing to completely stifle a yawn. The soldier's expression didn't change, but it was a very vocal sort of stillness. "I'm putting you here." He pointed to a spot on the far edge of the outer vanguard. "This flank is weaker than I'd like, and they need support. Do what you can."
Kelly and Hiro looked at each other. The two positions were on very nearly opposite ends of the field. The sargeant studied them for a moment.
"Is something wrong?"
The psionic strategist shook his head, tapping his fingers against his staff. The clammy dampness of his sleeveless cotton shirt, a sensation which he thought he'd gotten used to after spending so much time walking through the mists of Darkshire at night, was suddenly bothering him again. "Not really. We'd discussed mutual tactical support earlier, but if these charts are accurate, then I can't argue with your analysis. We'll go where we're needed."
The sargeant rubbed his face with his hands, and leaned back on his stool. "Good. Then go introduce yourselves - and get some rest. Gods know we're all going to need it."
He and the hacker were going to be used as elite infantry, and to counter enemy primes. That much was in line with what Kelly had expected, and didn't merit much further thought. Atelos himself had been interesting - he came down a bit heavy on the stoic commander persona, but it was a useful enough affectation, and he seemed competent. No, what had the psychic distracted were the charts and maps that had been strewn across the table in the war-room, every detail of which were now preserved in his remarkable memory. With concentration, he could see them as clearly in his mind's eye as if the table were still in front of him.
The strategic situation isn't awful. We have fortifications, and the field has been prepared. There are archers on the walls, and magical support. Our infantry is stretched a little bit thinner than I'd like, but the formations are mobile enough to compensate... hm. With the resources at hand, I don't think I could have done much better. Atelos knows how to defend a city.
Stepping down onto the rain-slick cobbles, Kelly grimaced.
The issue is the interior. On the off-chance the enemy commander is extremely clever, and has spent a few months preparing this, the approaching army could be a feint for an infiltration - a distraction that can't be ignored. If that's the case, they' ll have succeeded in luring the bulk of the city's forces outside of the walls.
Unfortunately, that remote strategic possibility isn't something I'm in a position to address right now . Even if I was sure Atelos, or Skendor, if I could find him, would listen me, Darkshire has barely one-thousand infantry. That's too few to be able to divert any forces from the primary defensive lines without creating an opening. I'll have to be satisfied that if our enemies are being unexpectedly subtle, they're going to encounter at least one major tactical stumbling block.
The traveler thought of towering, seemingly indestructible Okor, stalking through Darkshire finding his 'flock', and the grimace turned to a thin smile.
It was beginning to rain again, a light, freezing drizzle. The damp haze caught the hearth-glow from the few windows in the square that remained lit, twinkling in the night as though attempting a sorry substitution for the absent stars.
"What are you smiling about?" slurred Hiro, rubbing his temples. "We just got a 'go die for your country' speech from a roman dude wearing a cape, and you look like you left a whoopie-cushion on his chair. That is deeply unsettling, man."
Kelly clapped the tired swordsman on the kimono-clad shoulder, setting his face in a more amiable grin. "I was just thinking that based on what I saw of the battle-plan they're working up in there, our chances are pretty good. Of course, we're probably going to end up in the vanguard, so 'pretty good' is relative. Still, it's not like neither of us has done this before."
Not that I have a clear recollection of how it went...
Hiro didn't answer. Instead, the Greatest Swordsman in the Omniverse thrust his hands into the pockets of coat, turned his face towards the clouds and gave a loud sigh. His breath sent a billowing cloud of condensation into the air, where it vanished in the rain.
The two Primes wound their way back through the midnight alleys and avenues of Darkshire to the street where they had first met, scant hours before. They walked together, but each man was alone with his thoughts. When they arrived, the city gates of Darkshire were barred against the night, and men with torches walked the walls. The lights were on in the gatehouse, shining from the arrow-slits in the gray stone tower.
Kelly pounded on the gatehouse door with his staff, counted to twenty, and then pounded again, calling, "Hello? This is Kelly MacAryn. I was here earlier? The Commander sent me."
Several seconds later, a panel in the door slid aside. A pair of eyes appeared for a moment, then the panel slid closed again, and the door opened. The torchlight from inside the gaurdhouse painted the Primes in shades of orange, casting their elongated silhouettes onto the cobbles behind them. In front of them was a Darkshire soldier that neither the psychic nor the swordsman recognized. The man looked annoyed.
"You're the Prime we had in lockup," he said.
Kelly nodded, blowing a stray strand of wet hair out of his face, and smiled. "Yes. And I do appreciate the loan of the cell. I was in serious need of a place to rest."
Hiro and the guard both stared at him. "They locked you up?" asked the cyber-samurai. The psychic shrugged. "I can't blame them. I'd had a pretty bad night, and I'm sure I looked like a remarkably suspicious character." Hiro gave him a very blank look."No shit. I can't imagine why, mister thanks-his-captors."
"No harm was done," said Kelly, "and it never hurts to be polite. But that's beside the point." He turned his attention back to the guard. "Commander Atelos instructed us to meet with the Sargeant outside the gate for our unit assignments?"
The guard grumbled. "We just sealed these gates," he said. "Just got the camp set up outside the walls. We're not going to open them again without orders - but there's a ladder you can use. Follow me."
The man led the way into the gatehouse, up several flights of stairs, past bunks, a common-room, and a small armory, to the top of the tower, where a rope ladder lay curled against the parapet. Beyond the walls, a hundred campfires shone in the dark, illuminating tents, wooden barricades, earthworks, and men-at-arms, busy even at this late hour.
The ladder bounced and shook as it unfurled down the side of Darkshire's walls. The guard said, "The sargeant-at-arms in charge of personnel is in the tent directly in front of the gate. You can't miss it."
He looked at the two Primes expectantly.
"Got it," said Hiro without enthusiasm, and began to climb.
"Thank you," said Kelly, and followed.
The sargeant they were looking for turned out to be the same slightly-sickly looking man who had offered Kelly the cell in the gatehouse basement. After giving them permission to enter, he frowned as they ducked through the flap of his moth-eaten tent, looking up from a pile of maps and charts which he'd been studying by lantern-light, piled on a crude wooden table.
"It's about time you showed up," he said. The frown deepened. "Aren't there supposed to be three of you?"
Kelly shook his head. "Okor is staying in the city for now, I'm afraid."
The soldier was clearly annoyed, but bit back whatever venom was on his mind, remaining all business despite his obvious fatigue. "Fine," he said, waving them over, and the Primes crowded around the table.
"You," he said, pointing at Kelly, "are going here." He indicated a unit near the front of the defensive line. "Just behind the vanguard. I've seen you fight, and I know you're smart. Look for the unit in half-plate armor with the green armbands. They're good men."
The sargeant turned to Hiro. "You I don't know," he said. "But I'm guessing you're a swordsman, and judging by the make of that blade I'm guessing you're fast. How fast, exactly?"
"You're looking at the fastest swordsman in the Omniverse," said the tired technologist, failing to completely stifle a yawn. The soldier's expression didn't change, but it was a very vocal sort of stillness. "I'm putting you here." He pointed to a spot on the far edge of the outer vanguard. "This flank is weaker than I'd like, and they need support. Do what you can."
Kelly and Hiro looked at each other. The two positions were on very nearly opposite ends of the field. The sargeant studied them for a moment.
"Is something wrong?"
The psionic strategist shook his head, tapping his fingers against his staff. The clammy dampness of his sleeveless cotton shirt, a sensation which he thought he'd gotten used to after spending so much time walking through the mists of Darkshire at night, was suddenly bothering him again. "Not really. We'd discussed mutual tactical support earlier, but if these charts are accurate, then I can't argue with your analysis. We'll go where we're needed."
The sargeant rubbed his face with his hands, and leaned back on his stool. "Good. Then go introduce yourselves - and get some rest. Gods know we're all going to need it."