Private Tales Left Alive

[Arn]

Cortosi Outlands - East of the Castere River

Arn lay frozen on the floor. His breathing nearly stopped, his eyes open but unblinking. He played dead, as best as he could. Frozen and completely stopped as he watched the agents of the Solar Choire slowly step among the corpses of his fellow Guardsmen. It was a mark of how much fear was coursing through the young Guardsmen's veins that he did not twitch as one of the men stepped beside him.

The Knight's boot lingered for a moment, and then slowly drew away. Stepping over the blood soaked farmboy and moving away. A shout went out in the Cortosi tongue, and within a few moments the sound of hoovebeats could be heard. They thundered out into the darkness of the night, carrying further and further away with each passing second.

Still, Arn didn't move.

He waited, and waited, and only after he felt an hour had passed did he finally stand. With a heavy shove he pushed the corpse that had been laying upon him away. The other boy had fallen onto him after the ambush had struck. Catching the Dreadlord that had been sent along with them first, the Patrol had been unable to defend itself properly.

Within a few seconds they had been decimated, and Arn hadn't been able to get so much as more than few arrows off before being struck in the head himself. The Cortosi had used slings and crossbows, Arn had caught that much from the wound in the side of his head. He frowned for a moment, wondering as he quickly raced up ahead towards where the Dreadlord had gone down. His suspicions confirmed as he knelt down and felt the other man's neck, finding him not dead, but merely unconscious. "Hey!"

Arn whisper shouted.

'Hey! Hey. Ser!" The Farmboy gently shook the dreadlord, scrambling for his water flask and splashing just a bit over his face. "Ser, wake up!"

 

[Rhidian]

When had it started raining?

He could feel the droplets, a torrential downpour, but nothing else seemed to be be caught in the rain.

Claps of thunder could be heard, felt, and Rhidian began to groan at the unusual feeling. It was like an annoying gnat, unable to shake them off, until somewhere in his mind, it registered that his cheeks were receiving blows.

Grey eyes opened, watching as the hand came back to tap at his face, but his hand shot out quickly to stop it. Confusion settled on his features, then the feeling of water tickling past his ear.

And then the pain at the back of his head.

Rhidian winced through gritted teeth, releasing the hand and helping himself up to a seated position. Pain had become a new experience for him at the Academy, a form of reaction and retaliation assigned by the Proctor that could read his responses well. He had begun to attune to dulling the pain, pushing past it and allowing it to light up his mind.

"The fuck happened here?" He asked aloud, staring at the mess before him. Lifeless, blood, and piles of them. Alarm shot through him, bringing him back to the day he had detonated and killed what remained of his unit and the warring tribes they were sent to incapacitate.

"I didn't... did I?" Finally, he turned his face to the only other being that seemed to still have life in them. One of the guardsman...

 

[Arn]

"What?" Arn responded almost instantly, as though he did not even understand the question.

Why would a Dreadlord hurt their own? That didn't make any sense, surely that would never happen! "No, you were hit by a sling, I think. They came quick, struck from either side and..."

Arn frowned, trying not to think about the corpses laying behind them. The image would be burned into his thoughts for some time, that much he knew. Up until a month ago he had never seen a body before, much less...much less what had happened here.

The thought alone made him want to puke. "I-I saw them go."

Arn said, speaking near a mile a minute.

"Headed west, I think." Towards the River, towards where the rest of the Garrison was currently stationed. "I'm not sure how many there were but we've got to warn the others."

Otherwise it could mean even more dead.

 

[Rhidian]

Relief flooded him, and slowly he got to his feet and wiped away his wet face and hair.

He had been assigned to accompany this unit due to his own experience with the Guard before becoming Initiate, but seeing such display of bloodshed brought a dark memory to pass again.

"Fuck." He glanced the only way he knew they would run to, if leaving this scene in their wake was anything to look to.

Rhidian turned to the Guardsman, sizing him up before grimacing. "I can try something that will alert other companies out there... but then those that slayed our brothers and sister here will know someone survived." The hope and crushing came to him quickly.

"Fuck!" He began marching, stepping around the bodies lifeless at his feet. "We need to get closer, scout their numbers... and if need me, I can take them all out." He had done it once before, when he discovered his magic... how hard would it be to do it again?

 

[Arn]

Arn blinked. "Err...all of them...Ser?"

He didn't want to sound disrespectful, obviously. He had heard the stories of what Dreadlords were capable of. Supposedly reducing whole companies to ash, shouting at the top of their lungs when only the slightest grievance was had.

The boy in front of him was near enough Arn's own age, but he was a Dreadlord. That made a difference, didn't it? They were raised differently, in the Academy. That was what Owain had said, and that had to change a person. Best not to question. "If you say so."

Arn said with a nod.

"If we need to get closer, we can follow." That much he remembered from the Barracks. "They have horses, so they'll be faster, and I've a feeling there's more patrols..."

He had no facts for that, but he had been on more than a few scouting missions so far. The Enemy were surprisingly astute when it came to patrols. Though this was the first time Arn had clashed with them...he knew their movements well enough.

Though not enough to stop any of this. "We'll have to be move careful."

Arn finished, swallowing the bitter thought.

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian didn't seem at all fazed at the idea of a slow approach, but threw the guardsman a grin either way.

"Then we best keep walking."

Only once did Arn catch up to him, Rhidian stretched his hand across in offer. "Initiate Vaughn. I used to serve in the Vel Hetren company before my magic flourished with a bang." Quite literally. "That is all I am wishing to impart for now, but, my magic? It's detonation. I reckon we are going to want to take a hard and fast approach if we see any of these patrols."

He had a decent sword at his side, was just as capable of using it, but he would be stupid not to use the only advantage he had on those that came agaisnt them. It was hard to differentiate the Initiate's armour to that of his companion.

 

[Arn]

Detonation…right. That didn't sound good, or did it? The Dreadlord was on his side after all, and that meant his magic was too.

As terrifying as the thought was that Initiate Vaughn could kill all those men he had just seen, Arn had to remember that they were allies. An easy thing to do, given the other boys disposition and rather friendly nature. But the farmboy couldn't help the slight weariness which crept through him, that sense of danger he ignored even as he reached out and clasped the Dreadlord’s hand.

”My name's Arn.” He said by way of introduction, and then immediately corrected himself. ”Err, Private Arn.”

The Farmboy said, before awkwardly adding. ”Sir.”

Arn wasn't entirely sure how the balance of rank worked when it came to Initiate's versus Privates. He knew that they were apprentices too, but the training was different. Besides it seemed like Vaughn had prior Guard experience, and for Arn that was enough to mean he'd welcome being in charge.

The Farmboy certainly didn't want the responsibility. ”Never been much for tactics, Sir.”

Arn commented to The Dreadlords chosen strategy should they meet an enemy patrol.

”But I managed to save my bow and ax.” The soldiers of the Radiant Church had not bothered to loot any of the slain. An odd choice, one that spoke of a need for speed. ”Think we'll need to heat up that ridge if we're to catch up though.”

He said, pointing to a large hillock in the north. It was in the same direction the patrol had gone, but the trees would give them some cover and the view stop would at least let them gauge their way.

 

[Rhidian]

"Oh, Kress, if we are going to be that formal, then just call me Rhidian. Please." He chuckled.

Rhidian whistled at the weaponry in his colleague's possession, nodding as he put that in mind for later consideration. "Aye. You got good instincts then." The Initiate grinned, clapping Arn on his back before starting into a paced jog. He had been knocked out moments before, but now his magic refueled his energy reserves. They had no time to waste, needing to cover as much ground as they could while still working on the tail ends of those they pursued.

"Right. How are you decent with a bow?" He needed to ask. An archer would be a lot quieter than setting something to explode. He knew of archers at the Academy that would manipulate their arrows to always land true. "Because I am gonna need you to be ready and nocked at all times. Got it, Arn?"

 

[Arn]

”Will do, Si-Rhidian.” Arn said with a chuckle, scratching at the back of his head. ”Sorry this is all still new to me.”

He had only joined the Guard seven months ago, six of that had been training. This combat patrol had been one of his first and…well things had taken an unexpected turn.

”Ummm.” Arn wasn't one to brag. His mother has always told him it was uncouth and his father had said it was better everyone think you couldn't do nuthin’. It was in that modest way that he had managed to impress some of his instructors back at training.

He'd been hopeless with a sword, decent with an ax, but had truly managed to shine with the bow.

Though Viret was large enough for four markets, times sometimes got tough. There had been a few years where he and his father had only managed to put food on the table thanks to their bows. He was no master Fletcher or anything, there had been others better, but Arn could boast about his skill with a bow and stand proud of doing so. That much he was sure of. ”I can do what you need.”

The young Guardsmen answered finally, his tone holding enough confidence that one would almost find it easy to believe him.

His quick stringing of his bow and the snap of an arrow freeing from his quiver adding onto that even more. ”Should we go?”

Arn asked, keeping some of the urgency away from his voice, but eager to leave behind the small field of corpses.

 

[Rhidian]

"Already leaving without ya!" Rhidian called out as he started a sprint, turning with practiced footwork to flash Arn a grin before turning back to run straight again.

Moving quickly was absolute paramount now.

It was not to leave the bodies that were still warm, nor closing distance those they sought to pursue. They survived, somehow, and now was their chance to do something before reports came in of their deaths.

Rhidian's jaw set. He thought of his vest friend, Silas. His new friends, and budding friendships. His life at the Academy was not long, but it proved fruitful as he learned how they accepted him so readily.

He thought of a death notice being sent to his mother, father, and older sister in Vel Hetren.

 

[Arn]

Arn rushed after Rhidian as fast as he could.

During training he had not exactly proven himself the most...athletic of his fellow students. Though he was by no means the worst of the lot, Arn's talents had always lain more in feats of strength than cardio. One of his instructors had called him a very tall dwarf. 'Dangerous over small distances', he'd said with a great belly laugh. Leaving Arn to wonder if the man had ever even met a dwarf.

Either way, he managed to keep pace with the much quicker Dreadlord. Lagging behind only a small bit as they ran off into the night. The countryside around them lay much as it had been the day before, the savannah of this side of Cortos was little more than tall grasses and small patchy pools of water.

Not an inhospitable landscape, Arn had come to find out, but not one that could be called scenic.

He was told that a little ways south one could find mountains and Cortos changed into a whole other nation all together, but he hadn't made it that far. Hoped that the 44th didn't make it that far, for if it did it would mean he was part of an invasion.

Arn reflected on that thought when he caught sight of something. A quiet whistle signalling to the Dreadlord.

"Rhidian!" He whisper shouted. "Look there, a light."

The guardsmen pointed, spying what he thought was a fire.

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian slowed his running beat; heavy thuds against the ground as his boots came to pause, the Initiate barely out of breath as he stilled and looked ahead.

"Righto." He curled his fingers around the hilt and pulled his Tyrian Iron sword free from it's confines. It had some weight to it, but he had been learning swordcraft since he was a boy and carried it like it was nothing. "Let's circle around, but keep an eye out. If they're scouts, then there may be eyes looking out."

He turned to grin at Arn, half shrugging at him.

"Be a shame if they are friendly. Might scare them with our weapons out and sneaking in the dark."

 

[Arn]

"Well I doubt theyre friendly out here." Arn commented with a frown, remembering that they had been the only patrol sent this far out.

Briefly he wondered if that option should be considered, another Anirian patrol. That would certainly be lucky for the two of them. Another patrol might give them some guff for losing the first, but at the very least they'd be safe.

He frowned for a brief moment, shifting his weight as the two of them turned and headed closer to the fire.

Voices soon began to drift out toward them, and Arn commented almost immediately in a whisper. "Don't think I recognize the language."

Which didn't mean much. Arn knew the common tongue, and then besides that...not much else. It wasn't for the lack of trying, he had attempted to learn High Anirian and even some other languages, but books like that were rather rare back home.

Vel Anir at the best of time did not enjoy things of a foreign nature, and Viret...well, the Virak's were better known for their supported of the Anirian people. Not outsiders. "Definitely Cortosi."

Arn said, stopping just short of a crest of a hill where the small camp lay.

"Maybe we can rush them?" Rhid had said his magic was...explosive.

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian looked at the sight before him, trying to determine the odds of going through this hard and fast.

"Let's go with that. How many are there? Where will they come from? We need to assess all entry... Wait." His eyes fixed on the fire, the wood burning to give the fire it's roaring life. "I can try luring them out. Get them close enough to the camp fire and I can... create an inferno." It won't give away their presence as much that way. They could even wait a few moments and see if anyone else would respond to such a fiery explosion.

"Right. We are a team. Happy to see if I can draw them out? Any stragglers, I want you to hit them with your arrows. No survivors. Can't afford any of them alerting anyone else of what is happening." He turned his determined gaze to Arn, brows lifted in wait for his answer.

 

[Arn]

Arn frowned for a brief moment, fingers clutching at his bow. "Well...I can do that si-Rhid."

It was easy to tell that the young man had only recently joined the services. He had none of the killer edge of the Old Guardsmen, and it was clear that murder of any sort set a squeamishness up his spine that was rare in Anirian lads.

He was willing to defend himself, any man would, but killing some random stragglers.

"Might it not be..." Arn cleared his throat. "Might we not get more information...if we didn't attack?"

Arn knew that his thoughts weren't exactly aligned with Anirian protocols, nor even with his own earlier suggestion. "I mean we could kill them, of course."

That was the Anirian way. That was how Rhid could do his thing and how the two of them could get home that much faster.

"But it might be better to have a...conversation?" It was clear the young Guardsmen was simply trying to find an excuse. Anyway to stop the slaughter which might step them forward towards the inevitable.

Having to kill was never an easier choice. Though Arn found it much easier when armed goblins were running at him.

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian did not turn to look at Arn, afraid the guardsman would see his own reluctance to end lives. In his career as an Initiate, he was able to keep that count to a zero, still haunted by what he had done the day his magic was discovered. Himself and Arn were working with orders that had history steeped in blood, but the two boys were similar in their quest to keep casualties to a minimum.

"Right. Non fatal it is. We scout them, go around them if we can. If a fight breaks out, focus on knocking them out. Can't have them following us. Last resort I..." Rhidian exhaled heavily. "I will use my magic."

And so Rhidian beckoned for Arn to follow him, forging a wide arc around the camp and moving slowly. His eyes looked into the darkness, eventually growing confidence that they would get round without a fuss.

"We need to keep moving. Keep quiet, I think we can start running in a mile or two."

 

[Arn]

Arn let out a grateful sigh, nodding to Rhid as the Dreadlord decided on their move.

Any day he could go without killing was a good one. Perhaps that meant he wasn't much of a soldier, but there were certain steps he could not bring himself to take. Defending yourself in the midst of a fight was one thing, but sneaking up in the dark and cutting a mans throat?

That just felt wrong. "Thank you."

Arn said finally as they made it further away from the fires of the camps. Their voices now covered by distance and the sounds of the night.

"I'm not quite..." He frowned. "Comfortable with all this soldiery just yet."

The farmer admitted, thinking that the Dreadlord must think him an utter fool. He had already spent time in the Guard, and now was being trained as one of the preeminent killers in the whole world. It must have seemed incredibly foolish to not kill an enemy at your back.

Arn knew that, he remembered being taught tactics, but...it just didn't seem right.

 

[Rhidian]

Rhid shot Arn a look. "I think anyone that chooses peace over cruelty is a better man. I really don't want to use my magic to kill... I rather fell them by my blade than give someone no chance of surviving."

His father told him an honest fight was better. It measured a soldier, gave them merit for a future in the guard.

They moved quietly, well past and out of earshot of that camp. Luckily, no one had been stationed where they traveled, and were able to pass without worry.

"We are gonna have to make some... decisions if we are to make it through. So... if you cannot end someone's life tonight... then I will do it. We are a team." He would use his magic. Their blood wouldn't really be on his hands, right?

 

[Arn]

For a few seconds, Arn stayed quiet. He mulled over his companions words and the weight of them. His lips pressing to a thin line.

The Farmboy wasn't a soldier. Not even after all his training, the few experiences he'd had with Owain and the others. There was still a part of him that clung to the small town he'd been born in. In fact, it was the greater part of him which as of yet was still unwilling to walk across the bridge to become something else.

But he would take a small step.

”We’re a team.” Arn repeated Rhidian’s own words back to him. As much as he might not have liked killing, as much as he wanted to just stay a simple farmer, Arn knew he couldn't.

Not in this place, not right now. ”I'll do it when we have to.”

The boy said with a grimace, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around his bow. ”I'm not going to be a burden.”

He said, almost as of defiance of himself. Arn might not yet have been a soldier, at least not in his own head. But his ‘Pa had always taught him that any sort of man earned his keep. Back on the farm that meant looking after the cows, plowing the fields, and sometimes even wrangling the odd rustler.

In the Guard? Sometimes earning your keep meant killing.

 

[Rhidian]

"Yeah, the shit part about that? You're never going to be ready if you weren't raised to be one of the weapons." He hadn't been, and his father didn't bother instilling him with talk about killing either, believing his son would have years before seeing the battlefront. Now, Rhidian skipped several lessons and has one of the more destructive magics in his class.

"If we go this night without spilling blood? Fucking brilliant... I just hope to Kress we are lucky tonight." Rhidian figured they were now a fair distance, and beckoned for his friend to follow as he quickened their pace. He still ran with his sword ready, as if danger could jump out at them from anywhere if they were not too careful. What seemed like an hour with no disturbance, with frequent walking breaks for Arn to catch his breath, they would happen on another camp.

This one was larger, possibly even the group that came and slaughtered their team.

Rhidian gripped Arn by the arm, pulling him to hide behind a large oak tree. "Pretty sure I counted six men that did not clock us, yet."

 

[Arn]

The words Rhidian said in reply echoed in the young Guardsman's mind as they continued their path. He chewed over every syllable, allowing himself the time to think as they rushed through the quiet night. His meditations only interrupted as the Dreadlord practically yanked him behind a tree.

Six? Arn swallowed, suddenly very thankful to have a Dreadlord with him.

He wasn't sure if this was the same patrol as the one that had killed the rest of their number. Perhaps a smaller detachment, but it didn't really matter. These men had planted themselves squarely in a path that he and Rhidian would not be able to go around.

The left path was filled with the odd barbed nettles of Cortos. A whole field of spine and stabbing bushes famed for the delicious fruit they grew. The crop was valuable, but also entirely unruly. It was almost impossible to pass through without a thousand different scratches which would inevitably lead to infection.

On the right, things weren't much better. Foreboding cliffs which would take hours to scale. If they wanted to get back to camp in time, they needed to go through these men.

”Okay.” Arn said, trying to keep the nerves he was feeling from slipping into his voice.

A long breath flowed into his lungs, his hands shaking slightly.

”If I move over to that crop of bushes on the left.” He'd barely been able to see them in the dark, but he knew they were there. ”I can hide and take out anyone…”

He swallowed. ”Left behind with my bow.”

While Rhidian did most of the work with his magic. Though that thought immediately sent a flicker of panic across his features. ”Not that I'm trying to tell you what to do.”

The Guardsmen added quickly.

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian shrugged off his worry about bossing him around. "Nah, that sounds like a good idea. Just... keep your distance yeah?" Rhidian looked to the camp again, letting out a light chuckle. "Mate, they've got horses. If we pull this off, we will be hard to catch on horseback. Quicker too."

And after a moment, Rhidian gestured his friend to go to his proposed vantage point.

The Initiate began moving towards the six on patrol. The closest two were met with forceful punches to their jaws, effectively knocking them out. If they rose, Arn would finish them off. The other four on patrol came at him with swords, and Rhidian fought them off with small bursts of his magic. It was enough to trip them up, give him an advantage in cutting them down. Rhid told himself to not think about it, that he did his job. Now, there were more waiting to come down against him.

Vaughn turned around to see where his friend hid, and grinned when he was nowhere to be seen. Good. Stay out of sight.

And then Rhidian advanced towards the camp.

 

[Arn]

Arn moved as quickly through the underbrush as he could. A skill that he had learned from countless hours of hunting the local fauna around Viret. Despite his relative size and strength, the guardsmen moved with a surprisingly soft foot. Never snapping a twig, never rustling a bush.

His father had always been a good man, but like any good Anirian had offered swift rebuke when a mistake was made. It had only taken one or two mistakes which had seen their query flee for Arn to learn to properly sneak.

Even in a place as foreign as this.

As Rhidian took out the forward patrolmen, he shifted and quickly moved into position by the brush. Eyes focused upon the camp and the light within. He spotted ten men there, which meant that the patrol had numbered sixteen, plus those they had lost in the fight with Arn and Rhidian's own company.

His fingers slipped into the quiver at his side, drawing free an arrow and knocking it onto the string of his bow just in case.

Taking in those below, he tried to figure out which ones would be the most trouble. One man stood out in particular, he did not wear leather armor like the others, but instead a deep crimson cloak which settled around his shoulders, obscuring the breastplate of steel that covered his chest.

Arn recognized the robe, it marked the man as a member of the Radiant Church. One of the larger powers in Cortos. What Arn didn't know, couldn't have known, was what hung around his neck; An amulet that would render most magics null.

The Guardsmen shifted, waiting for Rhidian's attack. His chest steadily rising and falling, his hands shaking as the adrenaline began to surge through him.

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian was a stellar example of his years of swordcraft and training by his Captain father, the kind of training seen by those Initiates that grew up at the Academy. Yet Rhid had been training his strength and magic with Alistair Krixus, a Dreadlord that had been a key element to his fast progress to his destructive magic.

Basic runes were activated, giving Rhidian speed and precision to cut through men that took moments to realise they were being attacked. Soft booms filled the air as soldiers staggered back from the force, the wind knocked from them. But Rhidian did not grant them mercy. They had to be dealt with, to eliminate any threats now. Sword came away bloody, each time skewering a fallen soldier until Rhidian turned around, looking for who was next.

His face was seething, the battle he had just fought fueling some animalistic instinct in him, as if the scent of blood ignited something to turn him crazed.

Slate grey eyes fell on the one in the robe. Was he the last one standing? Ready to greet Death?

Rhidian felt an energy surging within him, calling his magic forth. It swelled at his chest, channeling to his free hand as the Initiate threw his magic at the man.

And froze when they were still standing, still in one piece.

 

[Arn]

A mixture of horror and terror gripped Arn's chest.

The latter came not from the foe which still stood, but the man he called an ally. There was something utterly...disturbing about watching the way Rhidian dealt out death. It was unnatural, inhuman. His magic working to slaughter through nearly a dozen men before half of them could even respond.

It was a display that churned Arn's stomach, and made him wonder what other Dreadlord's were capable of. His companion was a mere student, his age. What could the men and women who had a lifetime of experience do?

The thought was utterly terrifying, and yet, the man in the crimson robe hardly seemed to care.

"YOU DARE, HERETIC!?" His voice boomed out as he drew the massive greatsword upon the ground. Ripping it free from it's scabbard and brandishing without a single flare. The rage upon his face clear as he stepped forward towards the Dreadlord. "You dare bring your corruptions to my home? My land?!"

He demanded, as he suddenly began to rush. "I will show you his might! I will show you his purpose!"

The churchman shouted, the blade swinging with a shocking swiftness towards Rhidian. The servant of the Radiant Church moving far faster than he had any right to, far quicker than any man should. Arn stunned as he watched the bout between the two titans.

His hands desperately shaking as he tried to bring up his bow.