“The patrol numbers them at three to four hundred elves and two hundred of those human reavers. They also are hauling six large wagons pulled by mukok. The scouts couldn’t get close enough to confirm, but they are betting on those holding siege equipment,” the scout finished before draining his water skin.
“Good report, soldier. Get some chow and rest a bit before heading back out,” Wrend ordered. The soldier hustled off to the barracks and Wrend shook his head. Five hundred enemies at best, more likely closer to six hundred. Based on where they were, if they pushed hard, they could be here . . . tomorrow night. That was a lot of opponents to hold off for three or four days; he didn’t know if he could do it, but he was determined to make the Ikbose pay a price so high they’d regret ever tangling with Ignominia.
He joined in with the men digging the trench around the wall. The work was hard, but they were making progress. An hour before sunset—to his great relief—the defensive garrison force arrived. Wrend took a break to greet them at the gate and put them to work.
He counted a full platoon of regulars, a section of scouts, and a section of engineers pulling two scorpions mounted on carts. Just what the doctor ordered. Wrend immediately assigned the infantry to help with the trench and sent the scouts up on the wall to relieve his men. He sent his scouts out to watch for any additional enemy formations.
“Sir, there is one thing to report from our journey here to the transition point,” one of the soldiers said. “There was a gnome that stopped us on the way who said he was setting traps for the Ikbose. He guided us through his traps safely and mentioned we should avoid that area of road for a few days,” the soldier reported. That was strange but nothing Wrend could worry about just yet.
“Do those have to stay mounted to the carts or can you place them up there?” Wrend asked the new engineers as they pushed their cart-mounted scorpions into the garrison.
“I was just going to ask you, Sergeant. They’ll do more good in the towers than mounted on the carts. The carts just make it easier to haul them on the road or reposition during open battles,” the engineer in charge of the scorpion crews advised while he walked around the two towers, inspecting their construction. “These should do. A bit flimsy but more than strong enough to hold a scorpion and its crew. The additional height will give us a little extra range as well. The gate and wall will prevent us from hitting anything up against it, but we’ll make them pay on the advance to the wall, that’s for sure,” the engineer added.
The towers were set just back from the main gate and were separated from the wall by a good ten feet. They were only a few feet higher than the wall, but according to his thinking, they were still the best place for the Scorpions. He had considered placing them directly on the walls to give them a better field of fire, but that would also make their crews prime targets for the archers the elves were sure to bring.
Evening was giving way to night when Wrend called a halt to the work on the trench; they would get at it again bright and early. He kept two squads on guard during the night and thankfully there were no attacks or trouble on their first full day guarding the “point,” as his men were starting to call it.
At first light he ordered the gate open and sent the men back outside to work on the defenses. One of the soldiers helped him set a rotation schedule that allowed the men some time off from trench-digging to take the easier task of watching the gate or the transition portal. The enemy could be here anytime this evening and he wanted his defenses as ready as they could be, and that included making sure his men weren’t too smoked to stand.
It was late afternoon when the trench was done and the less strenuous work of setting the stakes began. A scout hustled over to Wrend while he was helping to sharpen stakes; it turned out his time in prison creating prison shanks translated into crafting any improvised pointy weapons. The scout was moving quickly but was not rushing, which was a sign there was not an emergency . . . at least not yet.
“Sergeant, I have a report, but . . . well, things got a little weird out there today,” the scout said, scratching his head.
“Carry on, scout. Out with it,” Wrend said impatiently.
“Okay, Sergeant. Two things to report. The first is, do you remember that crazy gnome you sent through yesterday?” the scout asked.
“Yes, the permanent garrison men said he was setting traps on the road or some nonsense. You should let the other scouts know to watch themselves in that area,” Wrend replied.
“Well, that’s just it. The enemy showed up later in the morning and, well, they were stopped cold by that gnome’s traps. He must have killed a platoon worth of elves and reavers as well as burning several of their wagons. The Ikbose look like their stopping for the night and I don’t think the gnome is done with them just yet,” the scout reported.
“That’s unusual but welcome news. If that gnome heads back here to the transition point, I’ll have to thank him and try to figure out why he was helping. What was the second thing you had to report?” Wrend asked.
“Sir, we spotted a half dozen ogres watching the activity on the road all day. They left their observation point about an hour ago and are headed here, should be arriving at any time. Just wanted to warn you as they didn’t seem hostile and I’m not sure why they’re coming here,” the scout advised.
“We’ll keep a lookout for them. Get some rest before you head back out. Is someone still watching the gnome?” Wrend asked. The scout nodded before heading into the barracks for some chow and rest. True to the report, just before dark, a half dozen ogres were seen in the distance.
“Form up first and second squad. Get the scorpions spooled up,” Wrend ordered. He wasn’t too sure what to expect yet from these ogres.
“Hold up there. What are you doing at the transition point!” Wrend yelled when they were fifty yards from the wall.
“We were told you could use some help defending this place from the Ikbose. We seek an honorable death in battle fighting our common foe. May we join you in your defense, or shall we meet our end out here?” the lead ogre asked.
“I’m not dumb enough to turn down any extra blade, especially one wielded by an ogre. Just realize that I’m in charge, and if you can’t follow orders, don’t bother entering the gates,” Wrend said. The ogres conferred briefly among themselves before walking forward.
“Agreed,” the leader simply stated. Wrend could see they wore ragged armor but had taken good care of their weapons.
“Just for the record, I don’t intend to die here. We intend to make the Ikbose the ones that die at these gates.” A thought entered Wrend’s head. A crazy, stupid, brilliant thought. “Say . . . you seem down on your luck, wanting to die an honorable death and all. Ever thought about joining the legion?” Wrend asked.
“No, what do you mean?” the lead ogre asked.
“You see, me and my boys here are a special unit of the Imperium. We’re called the Ignominia and every man of the unit is a disgraced soldier, me included. We fight to regain our honor and pay our debt to the Imperium by defending it in battle. Seems you lads are in a similar pickle even if you’re not citizens of the Imperium just yet. Join up and you’ll get three square meals a day, weapons and gear, as well as a bit of coin in your purse every month. Who knows? You may find your honor in a way that doesn’t include dying,” Wrend offered.
“Would we have to fight our own people?” The lead ogre fidgeted as he awaited Wrend’s reply.
“I’ll cut you a deal. Join Ignominia, and if for some stupid reason our peoples fight each other, I’ll have you stationed somewhere you won’t have to face your own kin,” Wrend offered, sure that Raytak would back him on this one. The ogres conferred among themselves once more.
“Agreed,” the ogre simply stated. Wrend was a bit baffled by the ogre’s stone-faced reaction, but who could tell what was going on inside their gigantic skulls?
“Welcome to the club, boys. Head into the barracks and get yourselves kitted out like proper soldiers. While
you’re in there, get some chow in you and then meet me back here. We have some remedial Imperium tactics to go over,” Wrend advised, happy at his new acquisitions.
“Ha, that’s one way to fill out our ranks. I wonder if the next time our command grows in size some beastie or another will walk right up to join. We’re short a couple squads and ‘poof’ we get a handful of ogres looking to be part of Ignominia,” Wrend said to the scout next to him as they watched the ogres head into the barracks. The door to the building and other items in the transition point adjusted to fit the newly recruited soldiers. He would leave it up to Raytak and his superiors to sort out how many ogres constituted a squad of standard infantry . . . though he had a sneaking suspicion that the number was three.
When the ogres emerged from the barracks a short time later, they looked like changed ogres. The shabby armor had been replaced with Imperium lorica segmentata. Instead of shortswords, they had turned in their ogre weapons for steel two-handed swords—which they held in one hand. The armorer had done well, too, finding makeshift hilts that fit their huge hands. The scutum they wielded was also an eye-catcher, nearly the size of a door.
“All right, you new recruits, when the last soldier gets in the gate, you’re to make sure they’re closed and secured properly,” Wrend ordered as the work crews filtered in for their evening meal. Once the last soldier was in, the ogres easily closed the gates with their prodigious strength, a task that usually took an entire squad to move one door.
Wrend assigned everyone to their guard rotations, keeping the ogres off the roster as he worked with them one on one to bring them up to speed. The process of joining the legion had imparted basic knowledge to the recruits, but Wrend held his men to a higher standard than just the basics. He worked the ogres for several hours before dismissing them to get some rest, which he also made sure to do. There would likely be a battle tomorrow and he would need all the strength he could get with the numbers arrayed against him.
At morning reveille, the gates were opened to let the work parties out, and they were met by a band of Drebix. Wrend called his newest soldiers to walk with him as he exited the gate to see what was going on.
“Sergeant, we have been sent by our people to defend the transition point,” the man at the front said, stepping back instinctively as the ogre legionnaires joined Wrend. The Drebix was bald, wore no shirt, and had blue markings tattooed over his body. Wrend recognized him as one of their shamans.
“Welcome to the garrison, Drebix. Plenty of room and plenty of enemies to defend against,” Wrend said, waving the new additions in and toward the garrison inside.
“Who do you think will show up next, boss? More soldiers coming to fight with us?” one of the ogres, Kuklom, asked. The one who had led the group stuck to Wrend’s side; he said he wanted to learn, and Wrend was more than happy to oblige him.
“I get the bad feeling the next ones to show up are going to be the Ikbose. Soldier, you will not call me boss. You will call me ‘sergeant.’ Do you understand?” Wrend asked before teaching them a lesson about the army: screw up and face consequences. He would have to think of another form of corrective physical training, though, since no number of push-ups seemed to inconvenience the ogres in the slightest. Stepping away from his newest recruits, Wrend began sketching out plans on the ground in front of him, speaking out loud to himself. He was trying to do an officer’s work, which he was finding was not to his taste.
“Even with the Drebix and the ogres we’re badly outnumbered. We have the advantage of strong defenses while the enemy has the advantage of better-ranged weapons and numbers. Our shields negate their arrows to a large extent and the siege engines can outrange their bows, but the amount of damage our engines can reasonably do before they close with us is limited. I know they will focus on the gate, but they’d be fools not to attack other points of the wall with the numbers they have,” Wrend said, thinking for a bit as he took a drink of cold water from his waterskin.
“Everyone fall in!” Wrend ordered, gathering the entire garrison and filling the empty space between the wall and the barracks buildings. “When I tell you your assignments, head there so I can get a feel for our defense,” Wrend ordered, waving the scouts that were still present back to the wall to keep watch.
“Here’s what we’ll do. I’m no great tactician like Raytak, but it doesn’t take a genius to hold a strong position like this one. On the wall we’ll place all the standard soldiers, giving us 110 men on the wall. No, wait; we’ll cut it to ninety, keeping two squads in reserve.” Wrend ordered his first and second squads held back while the remaining infantry climbed up to their positions on the wall. The line of soldiers looked too thin.
“Also, I want the Drebix skirmishers up on the wall. Space yourselves out along the whole wall. Your throwing spears will be good for when the enemy makes his final assault. The scouts will also disperse themselves along the wall.” Wrend paused while the skirmishers spread out and climbed up to their positions. The five scouts left in the garrison were already on the wall, except for his own ten, which were still out tracking the enemy.
“Second squad, head up to the wall as well,” Wrend ordered, feeling the wall was still too thinly defended. Wrend was second-guessing himself and realized it. He had to get decisive, show strength and confidence to the men, even if he didn’t feel it. He liked leading men in a fight, but planning a complex battle was not his strength and he knew it.
“Get back here quickly, Raytak,” Wrend grumbled quietly to himself.
“For a reserve we’ll keep first squad, the Drebix raiders, and the berserkers. The engineers are right where they need to be, and I want both runesmiths with the catapults.” Wrend glanced over to the siege engines . . . Something had changed there! Both catapults were considerably larger. Seeing his quizzical look, one of the engineers spoke up.
“We’ve gotten an upgrade, Sergeant. It will add at least another hundred yards to our range. The scorpions have been upgraded as well,” one of the engineers said. It was true; Wrend saw that the scorpions up in the towers looked bulkier and had steel reinforcements at critical areas. Good job, Raytak , the sergeant thought before finishing his plans.
“The reserves will hold at the base of the wall where they’ll be out of the line of fire until they’re needed. Last but not least, Kuklom, you will station your men right behind the gates. The enemy will breach them at some point, and when they do, I want them to soil themselves at the sight of ogres in Imperium armor. Shaman, what can you do?” Wrend shouted to the man who slowly walked over.
“I can heal our troops and call upon the elements to strike our enemies,” the shaman replied.
“Okay, not that informative. How about you stick with me in the fight and I’ll point out who to smite? Other than that, I think we’re ready. For now, everyone get back to work. I want the infantry out placing stakes and digging obstacles. The enemy is coming and everything we can do to slow them down will help. Sweat more now!” Wrend shouted.
“Bleed less later!” the garrison replied.
Everyone went back to work. The engineers had sent two of their number to drive ranging stakes all about the field in front of them. In addition to the stakes, several rocks were painted bright white, the painted side facing the wall so that only the defenders could see them. The markers would give spotters on the wall or in the tower aim points to relay to the catapult crews in the courtyard below.
“Sergeant, we’ve got all the weapons sighted in. Is it okay if I work on the towers a bit? The scorpions are good up there, but they are a little exposed,” the engineer in charge of the catapults said. Looking up, Wrend could see the towers were good for observation but had no overhead protection and only a simple plank guardrail around the top, an addition that might keep a distracted soldier from accidentally falling off but would do nothing against the Ikbose arrows.
“Good idea. Do what you can, and pull any of the infantry if you need extra manpower,” Wrend ordered. The garrison ma
de good progress that morning and into the early afternoon. The pit outside the wall was filled with stakes, and a few dozen simple pit traps were dug into the surrounding area. The engineers ended up finding a way to bolt two shields to either side of each scorpion, helping to shield the crews from incoming fire. On the top of the tower, they completed a simple roof that would keep high, arcing arrow fire from dropping straight down on them.
An hour before sundown, the scouts came running in to report.
“Sergeant, the enemy column is right behind us,” the scout reported.
“Very good. Fall in on the wall, then spread out and take cover,” Wrend ordered. The scouts hustled into position as the ogres closed the gates.
“Sergeant, the towers are finished and we still have a bit of lumber. How about we make a barricade behind the gate? It will slow them down when they break through and allow the men on the walls a clear shot at their backs.” The engineer made a good point, so Wrend immediately approved it. With the newly reduced crew requirement for the siege engines after their upgrade, he had three extra engineers to place on the task along with the muscle of the ogres. Using the scraps of lumber and the two carts that had held the scorpions, they built a makeshift but sturdy barricade.
Wrend clambered up one of the towers to get a look at their foes. The column of elves moved slowly, a screen of scouts still checking for traps. The gnome must have done a number on them to leave them so spooked. Before the light faded, Wrend was able to put the enemy numbers at 280 elves and 175 humans. Mukok pulled two heavily laden wagons to a spot directly across from the main gate. The rest of the enemy troops spread out, blocking all escape from the transition point.
Wrend expected a hasty attack before nightfall, if only to test his defenses. Instead, the elves were content to set up camp just outside of bowshot of the walls. Just outside of bowshot—but not outside the range of his newly improved siege engines. He waited for now as the fading light made targeting problematic for the engines. In the morning they would have a surprise for their besieging enemy.
Limitless Lands Book 4: Opposition (A LitRPG Adventure) Page 24
