by M E Robinson
As the flames burned, Alistair gazed forth, a song coming to his lips unbidden.
“Long is the road, untravelled.
That was taken from you today.
And long is the path untaken.
Before this debt can be repaid
I cannot give you promises
I cannot give you gold
All I can do, is stand beside
And ensure your tale is told
So stand, you soldiers of Crowsea
Stand proud, stand strong!
For our fellows who have fallen
The bards shall sing your song.”
As Alistair finished the verse, he began it anew. One by one, new voices joined the captain’s and soon all of Crowsea Platoon was in song, their heads held high as they sent off their fellow soldiers.
At last, Alistair fell silent, watching as the soldiers sang one last verse before going silent once more.
“It’s time to return. Lieutenant Coalsen, please ensure this base is burned to the ground. It’s burned remains will remain as a memorial for our fallen allies. Crowsea Platoon, move out!”
Following Alistair, the remaining members began to leave the ruined base, watching as Alistair’s lieutenant cast Flaming Spheres at any untouched section of the base, causing new columns of smoke to rise into the air, where they mingled with the smoke from the funeral pyre before dispersing into the winds high above.
As they left the base, a gloomy atmosphere seemed to settle over the platoon. Seeing this, Alistair quirked his lips, turning to address the troops.
“We’ve lost too many mages to make use of the teleportation circle. It’s an eight hour march back to Vindammer, so we’d better hurry. We don’t want to be caught in Lichfrost Forest after darkness falls.”
This elicited groans from the soldiers, slumping forwards as they anticipated the long march back to the closest outpost of civilization.
“However, we made contingency plans just in case of this eventuality. The new gathering point is the much nearer, Tonbura village. Also, the support unit should be waiting for us just over that ridge with wagons and healers, if their last communication is to be believed,” said Alistair with an uncharacteristic coy smile.
This got cheers from the soldiers as they accelerated their pace, aiming to reach the top of the ridge that they’d stormed down from only an hour before. Cresting the top of the hill, the platoon gave each other confused looks. The area was empty, with only a collection of trees staring back at them from beyond the ridge.
Raising his arm, Alistair held his militia badge aloft, watching silently as the emblem of House Crowsea filled the air high above the ridge. As the emblem glittered in the air, violet strands of mana could be seen pulsing within, causing the symbol to shine brilliantly as it hovered overhead. With a grinding sound, a piece of forest seemed to pull away from the trees, as several horse-drawn wagons appeared out of nowhere, causing a strange shimmer in the air as they separated from the trees.
Eric let out a sigh of relief as he watched the wagons approach, the horses’ hooves clopping gently against the dirt of the path. As the wagons pulled up, a woman jumped off the front of the lead wagon.
“You’re in a sorry state, Alistair,” she said, observing the remnants of Crowsea Platoon with a critical eye.
“There were more goblins that we expected. It’s good to see you, Mara,” Alistair replied.
Mara nodded, her gaze softening. “We have healers and rations ready in the wagons. Jump on board and we can set off for the rally point at Tonbura.”
Nodding gratefully, Alistair led the exhausted militia to the wagons. The surviving scouts jumped in the two lead wagons, while Owin and the remaining militia were packed into the next two wagons. Several wagons were left empty, occupied only by the support crew and the driver as Alistair had hoped for a best case scenario where the platoon could fill every wagon.
With one last sad look at the column of smoke rising gently into the misty air behind them, Alistair gave the order to depart, setting the wagons back on the path towards Tonbura.
Inside the fourth wagon, Eric, Jun, and Ryan were lamenting the deaths of their companions.
“I still can’t believe Mark and Rob died,” said Jun.
“But Griffin’s death is totally believable? Eric asked.
“Of course, Griffin’s a shitter.”
Ryan laughed. “I mean, he did save Mark and Eric with that attack of his. I didn’t even think killing four goblins in one strike was possible.”
“Yeah, Griffin went out like a boss. Killing multiple goblins, saving the healer, saving me. What a hero,” Eric sighed.
“Hey, Mark went out well too. That double heal on those two scouts was clutch. He probably could’ve survived if he hadn’t tripped.”
“Mark needs to work on his mechanics. First dying to Barns, then dying here. Dude needs to step it up,” Jun said harshly.
“True, but as a healer, mechanics aren’t as important for him as they are for the rest of us. Plus his decision-making and awareness are top-notch,” Eric argued.
“Yeah, I guess he did save my ass near the end there,” Jun conceded. “But Rob’s was definitely a dumb death.”
“No arguments there. I half feel that Rob died on purpose just to avoid having to travel back to Tonbura,” Eric suggested dryly.
“Sounds like something he would do.”
Ryan just laughed awkwardly at this, not deigning to comment upon the likeliness of his best friend using death as a way to avoid the walk back. As the trio continued to discuss the battle, Astrid was staring awkwardly at Jun, as if deciding how to approach her prickly fellow archer. Gathering her courage, she leaned forward, interrupting the conversation as the trio turned to stare at her.
“Ummm. Thanks for saving me earlier,” Astrid stammered.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, no problem. Don’t worry about it,” Jun said dismissively.
“I know I probably wasn’t worth saving. But I’m thankful you did. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” Astrid asked.
“What? No, I just saved you because I could. Don’t overthink it,” Jun replied.
Before Astrid could press further, Eric leaned in.
“He saved you because you’re strong and he knew you could help us win. Don’t worry about repaying him, you already did more than enough,” Eric said with a smile.
“But…”
“No buts, you did great. I saw plenty of your arrows sticking out of goblins as we were cleaning up.”
“Really?” Astrid asked.
“Really. I’m sure everyone else saw plenty of them too, I don’t think any of the other archers use white-feathered arrows.”
This got a chorus of agreements from the other inhabitants of the wagon, causing Astrid to blush scarlet.
“You did great, Feathershot,” Owin said from the front, giving Astrid a warm look before turning to the rest of the wagon. “All of you did great. I’m proud to have fought alongside you today.”
“Bet you were even more proud to lie behind us as we saved your sorry ass,” Eric teased, causing Owin’s fellow scouts to burst into laughter as Owin regarded Eric with an annoyed look.
“You know, Kystfyr, technically I’m still your commander right now,” Owin warned.
“Big words from a man with two healers attending to him right now,” Eric retorted with a smile, watching as two healers worked on Owin’s wounds, golden light flowing across Owin’s injuries as they worked.
Pointing towards Eric, Owin was about to retort when one of the healers slapped his arm back down and scowled at him.
“Stop moving if you want me to finish healing you,” she warned, causing Owin’s companions to burst into laughter from beside the healers.
“You better listen to Lara, Owin. I saw her leave a corporal’s wound open once when he wouldn’t stop moving. Poor guy had to crawl over to the medical tent to get someone else to heal him,” one of Owin’s squad members teased, causing Owin to s
tare at him resentfully as he went still.
“If he’s still acting up, feel free to come attend to me. I’d give up my left arm for treatment,” Tanix chimed in from the back. “I’d give up my right, but that one was taken by the hobgoblin earlier.”
This comedic act lightened the air in the wagon, as they laughed at Owin’s misfortune. Giving everyone a wounded look, Owin pretended to act hurt, giving off the perfect picture of wounded pride as laughter filled the air.
Turning to Tanix, Eric looked at the mage curiously. “How do you plan to get your arm back? Are you just going to have to die?”
“That was my original plan. But the healer from Alistair’s squad told me that a more advanced healer could actually regenerate it for me. So I’m just planning to look for a good healer once we get back to civilization. Plus I heard that dying after level twenty is a lot more severe than dying before twenty was, so I’m kind of trying to avoid dying if I can,” Tanix explained.
“Yeah, we noticed our friends had dropped more of their stuff than usual. We grabbed it all this time, but if we’d all been wiped out then I can imagine the drops would’ve been pretty bad,” Eric admitted.
“How good do you think a healer needs to be to regenerate your arm? Will Tonbura have anyone good enough?” Ryan cut in.
“It requires an Advanced Healer or better to regenerate lost limbs. There will be some at the militia encampment outside Tonbura. Once we get there, follow me and we can get you fixed up,” Lara interjected from Owin’s side.
Nodding gratefully to the healer, Tanix turned back to the trio, engaging them in conversation as the wagons trundled through the forest. Occasionally, other members of the militia would join in on the conversation, adding their thoughts about the battle and their thoughts on what the rewards would be like as the group bonded. The only one who refused to participate in the conversation was Seryllia, who simply sat at the back of the wagon, staring at the trees as they passed. Despite Seryllia’s reluctance, the rest of the group quickly became friends. There were some things that just couldn’t be done without growing closer to each other. And fighting nearly half a thousand goblins was one of them.
An hour later, the wagons finally rolled out of the forest as the trees gave way to the rolling fields around Tonbura Village. The rain had finally let up, giving way to a bright sun which illuminated dozens of tents that had been set up outside the village walls. From afar, hundreds of figures could be seen bustling between the tents, carrying various objects that Eric couldn’t quite make out from their current position.
As they got closer, Alistair stood up at the front of the lead wagon, his posture still ramrod straight as always despite the rocky movement of the wagon beneath him.
“The official end time of this assault operation is in three hours at sundown. You have time to visit the healers, rest up, get your weapons and armour checked, and fraternize. All the services are free as part of the kingdom’s support, so make sure to take advantage. Any damaged gear you have, get it fixed, even if it wasn’t damaged in the assault. What the kingdom doesn’t know won’t hurt them.”
This got a small chuckle from the platoon as Alistair continued, “At sundown, make sure you’re here if you want your payment for participating in the assault. There will also be awards and honours for those who contributed the most, so don’t head back to your own village or town just yet.”
As Alistair said this, the wagons rolled to a stop just outside the outer perimeter of the ring of tents. Climbing down from the wagon, Owin gave Alistair a salute.
“Permission to take our leave, Captain?”
“Permission granted. Crowsea Platoon, you are dismissed!” Alistair roared.
Letting out a cheer, the members of Crowsea Platoon jumped out of the wagons, heading for the tents. Lara and the other healers rounded up Tanix, Owin, and the other severely wounded members, taking them to the healers’ tents, while Eric and the others searched for blacksmiths and other craftsmen to fix their gear.
Leaving his broken falchion and his armour with a friendly militia blacksmith, Eric split off from the rest of the group, as he made his way into Tonbura Village itself.
Chapter 45
The village was mostly deserted. Many of the inhabitants were outside the walls, helping to care for the exhausted militia members, or simply enjoying the festive atmosphere. It wasn’t often that Tonbura saw this many people outside its gates after all. Arriving in front of his destination, Eric took a moment to gather his courage, exhaling softly before striding boldly forward.
“Craig’s archery supplies, how can I- Oh hey Eric,” Craig greeted him.
“Hey Craig, how’s business?” Eric replied. Due to the amount of time Craig spent with Jun, he’d picked up the habit of simply calling Eric by his name. Thankfully, he hadn’t picked up any of Jun’s other habits, Eric thought privately to himself.
“Not bad. The militia’s been buying plenty of my arrows recently, but I’m selling them at cost to help out Alistair. So I’ve been busy, but not earning much. What can I do for you?”
Smiling awkwardly, Eric reached into his storage and took out the fragments of his long bow. Craig gasped.
“What in the hell did you do to this poor bow?”
“Well-”
“This was one of my best creations! I gave you a discount and even repaired it for you and this is how you repay me?!”
“It wasn’t my fault-”
“Oh like hell, I bet-” at this point Craig broke down laughing, his angry face dissolving into helpless giggles as he gave Eric a mirthful look. “I watched the tournament; I know that you got it broken in your fight against that Mortang guy.”
“Mortang?” Eric asked, before remembering. “Oh right, Hydrus’ last name.”
“Yeah, I’ll fix it for you for free if you want. We were all cheering for you here in Tonbura. I can’t let our would-be hero pay when he was fighting so hard for our sake.”
“I still lost though,” Eric tried to argue.
“Yeah, like I said. Would-be hero. Cause you would have been our hero if you’d won. Just accept it, not like it’s that much work to fix an unenchanted bow. Plus Lucy might kill me if she knew I’d charged you to fix a weapon you broke against Hydrus. It was all we could do to persuade her not to go hunt him down,” said Craig, taking the charred remains of Eric’s bow. “It’ll take me a while, so don’t bother coming back for it until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“Thanks Craig.”
“Don’t mention it,” Craig said with another laugh, waving Eric out of the shop.
Outside Craig’s shop, Eric pondered his next actions for a moment before deciding to head to Lucy’s manor. As he walked, he brought up his notifications tab. The icon had been steadily blinking ever since the battle had come to an end, but he hadn’t had the time or energy to check on the way back to Tonbura. As the list unfolded in front of him, Eric let out a low whistle. The number of skills that had gained levels during the battle was incredible. He’d been level 23 after the tournament had concluded, which was considered pretty strong. The battle had given him another three levels, bringing him up to level 26. His skills had all levelled up massively as well, with several nearing the end of the Journeyman ranks, ready to push into the Intermediate rank. Closing the notification window, Eric brought up his status page.
[Status]
Erick Kystfyr - Level 26
Health: 350/350
Mana: 350/350
Title: Corporal
Weapons:
Grimarok’s Sabre
Quickwind Dagger
Armour: Common Tunic
Skills:
Basic Magic (Arcane, Fire, Wind, Water)
Basic Martial Arts (Journeyman 8)
Militia Spearmanship
Militia Swordsmanship (Journeyman 3)
Basic Archery (Apprentice 10)
Basic Evasion (Journeyman 9)
Basic Herbalism
Basic Speechcraft
&
nbsp; Active Skills:
Evasive Shot (Journeyman 6)
Charged Shot (Apprentice 1)
Sword Technique - Guard (Apprentice 8)
Sword Technique - Dashing Cut (Journeyman 6)
Magic:
Basic Arcane Magic (Journeyman 9)
Arcane Strike (Journeyman 7)
Arcane Blade (Beginner 9)
Arcane Dart (Apprentice 6)
Basic Fire Magic (Apprentice 3)
Flame Strike (Beginner 8)
Multi-linked Flame Strike (Beginner 3)
Basic Wind Magic (Journeyman 5)
Wind Blade (Apprentice 7)
Wind Dart (Journeyman 6)
Multi-linked Wind Dart (Apprentice 4)
Basic Water Magic (Beginner 2)
Water Strike (Beginner 1)
Water Blade (Beginner 1)
Water Dart (Beginner 1)
Chime
Ball of Light
Pointer
Arcane Formations (MAX)
Basic Novanalba Mana Technique (Journeyman)
Unknown Mana Technique (Beginner)
With a smile, Eric closed the status window. The battle had been an opportunity for growth, one that he’d seized with both hands, and the results showed. At level 26, he was probably one of the strongest players in the entire northern region of Novanalba. He'd gained a brand new title for killing Grimarok and the award ceremony would make him even stronger. As he was thinking about this, wondering what type of rewards he would receive for his merits, Eric’s gaze strayed to the sabre hanging from his back.
