Ator looked up at the moon and thought back on a time he was on his last reconnaissance mission a year and a half prior. He was smacked on the back of the head by one man in light, all black armor and a balaclava. Ator put his balaclava on along with a black hood. He picked up his great axe and secured his knife to his back side along with a small fire bomb in his back pocket. The unit he was in was getting ready to raid an orc encampment along the southern coast line.
It was a unit of twelve men plus two other similar sized units. Ator was the “muscle” of his unit. Primarily used in breaking down doors, barging in first, or fending off the enemy once the unit was pulling out of anywhere. He did not mind his role, but he overall felt as if his skill set was being wasted. He wanted to do more than just being “the muscle.” He hoped that his ability to analyze situations and come up with some strategies would be respected, but the rest of the recon men made fun of him and considered it a joke that a man of his size wanted to make plans. They only saw him as a battering ram.
He walked into a small gathering behind a thicket where, by torch light, the commander was roughly drawing out the plan of action in the dirt with a stick.
The commander was a hardened man with grey stubble, but overall fit and strong like a mangy coyote. He was whispering in a harsh voice, “Sentries will be here… We will cut in and team three will blow up the supply tents and wagons… Here… Team’s one and two will flank in and move in onto this… Large yurt here from the south side… Remember… We are here to rescue the asset. Alive… However, kill only when necessary and rendezvous at the RP five clicks north west of here… Understood? Our unit will be moving in on the asset and make contact. Team two will support us. Team three just north of us will provide the distraction. Don’t fuck this up… I don’t want to see any dead men, elves, or anyone else here. Lastly… You, Ox… Kill and destroy any obstacles in our way. You are the battering ram. You burst into the yurt first.”
“Sir I have one question about how little sentries there are… Shouldn’t we account for a possible trap? Defensive maneuver red-5 to counter it? The worg company is not present as of now so it could work if there is one, sir?”
“Shut up! No cares about you simple observations and plans! That maneuver is childish at best. Get that through your thick, empty head you idiot! You’re the battering ram! Understood? It’s a fucking miracle a man your size is silent to begin with.”
Ator nodded begrudgingly and punched the dirt leaving a helmet sized crater along with a crushed stone.
Team 1 got into position waiting in the tall grass as a few orc sentries walked by not noticing anything out of the ordinary. The commander looked down at his pocket watch and murmured silently to himself, “Come on! Come on! Where’s the explosion? Should be easy since there’s barely any.”
“Sir… Slime pig is coming towards our way. Three o’clock,” one of the men whispered.
A tall orc was walking along the edge of the camp brushing his right hand along the tops of the tall grass. The orc was looking out into the field and few pockets of tree line that he could make out. Ator gripped his axe waiting to see if the orc would walk up on him. The commander pulled out his hatchet while another pulled out his short sword. The orc was whistling and getting ever so near. The commander was beginning to panic.
In a split second, Ator stabbed his knife into the neck of the orc and quickly dragged the body into the tall grass out of sight in a split second. One of the recon men whispered loudly, “Good work.”
“Bloody hell… Alright,” the commander sighed. He pulled out a gold ring and turned a tiny screw head and talked into it, “Rapier three, this is Rapier one… Update… Understood. Take it out… NOW!”
A far off explosion rocked the orc encampment as a majority of the orc sentries rushed over to the north side of the camp. The commander yelled out, “Go! We don’t have a lot of time! Rush to the objective and kill all in your way! Ator! Run ahead first!”
Like a pack of silent wolves teams 1 and 2 rushed in methodically and swiftly moved through the orc camp killing handful of orcs who were just walking by or were ordered to stay put. Ator killed two sleeping orcs near the large yurt where the asset was held. Team 2 broke off to head into the western area of the encampment. Things in team 1’s area were silent and mostly empty with only a handful of orc sentries that were quickly taken out. However, the silence was too much to ignore. This was then followed by some far off roaring and muffled growling highlighted by distant screaming and clanging of metal.
The commander told everyone in team 1 to stop and he got back on the ring, “Rapier two and three! Situation?”
“This is three! They anticipated us and – Fuck! Fall back they have – AGGGGHHH!”
“Rapier one! This is Rapier two! Lieutenant Boyd is dead! They are coming – Look out! They have the Grave Guards and worgs! Fuckers came back – Agh! Take him down he’s – fuck! AGGH!”
“Rapier two! Rapier three! Come in! Shite me, fawking get in the yurt and run out the way we came! We’ve been made. GET MESSY,” the commander yelled.
The rest of team 1 fanned out half of them retreating back to the tall grass. Ator and three other men rushed into the yurt only to find it empty except for a beautiful, but heavily scarred, black haired woman who was naked and bruised whilst tied to the center post. She was stunningly beautiful in Ator’s eyes despite the wounds. Ator froze momentarily as he locked eyes on her looking back at him barely awake.
The other men yelled out to him, “Hurry up, ox! We need to move! Stop gazing and pick her up!”
Ator put his axe away and took off his cloak. He untied her hands and gently held her as he wrapped his cloak around her. She was barely coherent. She had one swollen eye and cuts to her cheeks and chin. One of her ear lobes was partially cut and hastily wrapped in gauze. Ator quietly said, “Madame sorceress… We’re here to get you out!”
“You should’ve – should’ve… Waited… There’s a ra… They know.”
“I got you,” Ator gently replied.
He picked her up in his arms as they made their way out of the yurt. As soon as they were about to hit the tall grass, a large group of Grave Guards and orcs on worgs were waiting for them. Just in front of the grass line was the commander being choked out by the Grave Guard commander with the rest of the recon men dead. From behind the doomed five, orcs with crossbows and halberds lined up and surrounded them. The commander eked out the best he could, “Ugh! OX! Sorry! Give them nothi – ugh!”
The orc commander then snapped his neck. The recon commander’s body fell limp as he was tossed aside like a used towel. It was not noticeable at first, but there was a large pile of dead recon men, half-elves, Skarins, Griffs, and halflings just to the left of the Grave Guard commander. It was the rest of Rapier 1 and some elements of Rapier 2. All of which were in various states of dismemberment or death. A few orcs set them on fire after tossing logs and a bucket of oil on them. The orc shaman then walked over and fired green flames into the pile instantly turning them into ash as a green circle formed perfectly around the once piled up bodies.
The orc commander walked forward a few steps and sighed out in a cold voice underneath his dark, encapsulating helmet, “Drop your weapons and the sorceress. No more need die. The rest of your force is dead. There is no point.”
The orc commander cracked his knuckles as he waited patiently for a response. The rest of the remaining recon men and Ator all looked at each other unsure of what to do.
“Listen… Please don’t surrender… Please,” the sorceress whimpered out to Ator gripping his breastplate and back tightly.
One of the recon men exclaimed mid charge at the orc commander, “Never! AGGGHHH!”
He was quickly cut down by four precise crossbow bolts and was quickly hacked to pieces by the halberds. One of the worgs ran up and dragged his body away. The rest of the men stayed frozen unsure of what to do. Ator quietly felt his back pocket to see if he still had his fire bomb.
A human voice echoed out, “I would listen to him, men!”
Rapier 3’s commander walked out with his hood and balaclava off. He had slicked back charcoal hair and grey stubble. He had a coy look to him that made it seem like he was always grinning. His thin face made him look a little gaunt and rodent-like. “Surrender now. Please.”
The other two recon men dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Ator stood still holding the sorceress standing defiant. One of the surrendering men asked aloud, “How could you, Cass? We followed you to the very end. Why betray the empire?”
“Because, sergeant… There is wealth to be had in an ever so pointless and ongoing war,” Cass calmly explained with a slightly happy and condescending tone. “You really think we were ever making a difference?”
“You bastard! I’m going to…”
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“Do what? Kill me? They will cut you down before that even happens. You two are at least the smart ones… But you…”
Cass was looking directly at Ator. Ator looked familiar to him. Ator stared daggers at Cass as his brow hardened and his breath deepened. The sorceress felt Ator’s anger and gripped tightly on Ator’s back.
Cass asked curiously, “You seem determined to die? Interesting… Ah yes! That’s why! You’re the asshole who tried to kill me back in Wynward. Everyone calls you Ox! Fitting for a bullheaded jackass like you.”
Ator remembered seeing a barn full of civilians get set on fire as Cass was laughing nearby throwing a torch along with five other recon men throwing small fire bombs. Ator tried rushing him but was held back by the other recon men. Ator broke free for a moment and nearly stabbed Cass in the neck after which he was held down with a sword pointed to his head. Ator relented and the recon men withdrew their swords on him. Cass mockingly laughed at Ator nearly falling over on himself at Ator’s failed attempt. There was a small group of footmen near a wheat field looking shocked and disgusted by the recon men. One of them had a scar over his right eye looking beyond disgusted by the recon men.
Ator stood up and looked at his hands looking away from the burning barn and the burning city of Wynward in shame. The blood stains were contrasting to the surroundings and that was what Ator was hyper-focused on in that moment. The screams of the people in the barn echoed loudly in his head. The young footman with the scarred eye asked Ator in disgust, “What is wrong with you?”
Ator only looked away knowing the true answer.
The young footman and others like him walked away as Cass was yelling at the footman officer to bring them back. Most of the footman sat on a boulder in protest watching the war crimes by the recon forces. The footmen officer started yelling at them. That was when the scarred footman punched officer repeatedly.
“Did those dying kids, old folk, and women affect you? Make you mad? Disgusted? Hmm? Too bad! You two will die and meet them as well. Your stupid honor is what holds you back. You also participated in the killings, you can’t deny it! You think doing this ‘heroic’ stand now will make up for your past actions? Make up for those dead Wynward civilians? Hmm… Pathetic,” Cass said directly at Ator with a condescending tone that made Ator’s blood boil.
The sorceress spat on the ground defiantly though weakly. The two surrendering men were lead away and were immediately shackled.
The orc commander turned to Cass and said in a rough voice, “Your payment… Is right over there.”
He pointed to one of the Grave Guards bringing in a large chest on a one-horse-drawn wagon. Cass replied happily, “Pleasure doing business for the horde.”
“Go,” the orc commander said in disgust.
Cass walked over to the large chest and opened it. It was empty. “What is this? Wha – What!”
The orc commander rushed Cass and held him in the air as two Grave guards quickly grabbed Cass’ arms pinning him to the side of the wagon.
The orc commander said in a harsh tone, “You humans are so quick to turn on your own kind.”
“We had – We had a deal? Why!”
“You gave us the plans and details of the base already. We are through with your help. Your pride and greed blind you. That base and the neighboring village are now burning to the ground as we speak. Didn’t you wonder why half the camp was empty?”
“No…You said you weren’t… Going to attack until dawn tomorrow? My family is in there!”
“Was… Why should us orcs trust a rat, human shit like you? This is war, remember? Nothing is fair,” the orc commander said in a cold, emotionless tone.
He roared an order in Orcish and the two Grave Guards proceeded to break Cass’ limbs by snapping them like twigs. Cass was shoved into the chest and the chest was instantly locked. A make shift pyre of wood was quickly made as the chest was thrown harshly on top of it. An orc shaman shot green fire into the pyre. All that was heard was the cries of Cass as he burned alive in the chest.
Ator was stunned and unsure of what to do. The sorceress whispered as silently as she could, “That fire bomb in your pocket… I have a spell that can hide us if you throw it… At your feet… Trust me.”
Ator stood motionless, but grunted in agreement to her.
The orc commander sighed tiredly and walked back towards Ator. He cracked his neck after he spat on the ground. He calmly took off his helmet revealing a bald head with a long scar running along the left side of his head. He had an eye patch, large tusks, and one piercing, blue eye sunken underneath a layer of wrinkles and bags.
He said to Ator almost apologetically, “He had no honor… You have no fear and refuse to surrender. You also appear to want to make up for your past. I understand.”
He beat his chest and gave a slight bow with his head. Five grave guard orcs nearby did the same.
“Respect… Give her up… You walk free, warrior. If not… You will earn warrior’s death… Please… Enough blood for one night. Please.”
“Now,” the sorceress yelled as Ator threw the fire bomb at his feet and her left hand glowed orange striking the ground as well.
A large ball of fire and orange arcane magic burst out for a brief second and vanished. Once cleared. Ator and the sorceress were teleported away leaving no trace. The orc commander was not surprised by this. He sighed tiredly once again and walked back into the camp stiffly.
An orc shaman walked up and asked, “Commander? We don’t chase?”
“We have what is needed already. Let them run.”
“Ven’Goth… You certain? She was valuable.”
“We learned enough from her and we did what we were ordered to do already. We’ve killed enough for one night. Tired of killing,” he said whilst looking at the burning chest. He spat on the ground and kept walking.
The orc shaman looked at Ven’Goth with concern and asked, “Still trouble sleeping?”
“It never ends… You know this… Bury our dead and break camp and head back home come first light. Vul’Goth is planning a gathering at the Southern Plains.”
Ator and the sorceress were transported a few miles away northward along a hilly pathway far from any orcs or goblins. Ator quickly fell to the ground with a heavy thud almost dropping the sorceress to the ground. Ator let out a muffled grunt as he gently put her down and he pulled a charred crossbow bolt out from his back. He tore off his armor. He threw up because of the teleportation. The sorceress slowly sat up and went over to Ator who was wincing in pain. Her hands glowed a faint purple and the hole in his lower back healed up and closed.
“Are you… All… Right? Teleport spells always… Cause vomiting.”
“Yeah,” Ator said with a long sigh as he was catching his breath.
He was also trying to make sense of everything that had happened. He handed her his canteen and sat down on the side of the path. She thanked him and gulped the rest of it down. They both rested for a while as both looked up at the moon and stars. Ator was looking up to the moon silently praying to himself for the men and orcs that died during the rescue. She sat next to him brushing her long, silky hair back as her breath slowed down. She was admiring the breeze and how pretty the constellations were on the clear night.
She asked him, “What’s your name?”
“Ator Von Erich. Specialist. Force Reconnaissance. Yours?”
“Alessandra… Mistress Alessandra Lothroa de la Mancha. Sorceress and oracle to the Royal Council… Really just passed oracle school and was chosen by the Council with the king’s approval.”
“I know, madame. I know what your position is.”
“So you guys do know? Do you know why I was taken?”
“You’re a magic wielder and one of three human oracles in all of Evandria. Orcs wanted you for information about a massive battle to ensue. The head wizard, Eluthar, was adamant we get you back to safety… Can’t go back to base though. I’m sorry. Lot of walking from her on.”
“Ha! He truly does care and it’s okay buey… That battle is going to cause issues for everyone on both sides. Powerful weapons are going to be used and something terrible will come from it. That’s what the visions told me.”
“Interesting?”
“I never expected recon men to save me… Most of them that I knew were pinche brutes.”
“Not all.”
“No… But you’re the exception… Why is that?”
“Hmm?”
“Why aren’t you a brute like that bastard commander was?”
“I made a promise to never hurt the innocent or weak after that… Most in this army don’t care.”
“But why do you care?”
“I followed orders like a… I still hear the screams,” he said sadly.
She looked at him and her eyes flashed yellow for moment as she looked into his memories. He was telling the truth and she sat back feeling his remorse as her eyes went back to normal.
“You’re young like me.”
“Just turned twenty, you as well?”
“Yeah… You were at the siege of Wynward like that rat said earlier? The separatist incident,” she asked with concern.
Ator averted his gaze and said softly, “Soldiers obey… Without question or emotion… But I can’t bring myself to do such horrible things again… I’m glad he’s dead.”
Alessandra stayed quiet as Ator looked at the ground. A part of her recognized his hurt and she looked into his past for a brief moment again as her eyes flashed yellow for a few seconds. She sighed in relief and proceeded give him a tender side hug.
“I understand. No need to explain,” she said warmly. “We have a long walk until we get back to safety and I’m drained of all magic until I’m fully rested… We just head north, but move a little farther to the next fort or town, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Okay… The moon and stars are pretty tonight… Goodnight amor,” she yawned as she rested herself onto Ator’s right side passing out into a deep snore. Ator smiled.
He looked back down from the moon and saw Keely snoring into his right side nearly falling into his lap. He delicately grabbed her rifle and placed it on his left. He patted Keely into a side hug and she smiled whilst he was wrapping his large cloak around her.
He said softly, “The moon and stars are pretty indeed.”
He kept watch for the rest of the night.
