Kaleem chortles in amusement at Etmek's antics and waves a harassed looking cook away when the latter appears from inside the kitchens. "Don't worry, don't worry. The creature was just having a little fun!" The cook leaves but Usmond can see his shoulders slump as he exits.
Usmond is forced to spend another hour or two with Kaleem, listening to the man pontificate about a number of different things, none of which are particularly interesting, before a group of officers, in matching uniforms arrive. Kaleem plays the genial host, and introduced Usmond to them. It transpires that they are the collected officers of the Second Company, recently returned from wilderness exercises on the Taldan border. They report that all is quiet on the front and Kaleem begins to fill them in on the lurid tale of what has been going on in the camp - prompting a heated debate.
Usmond stays long enough to fix the names and faces in his mind before taking Etmek, clutching a particularly battered silver plate, and leaving...
The cook accepts your apology. He seems sincere but doesn't have an awful lot of time since the officers of the Second Company are calling out loudly for food and beer from the next room. Etmek looks suitably crestfallen however.
Usmond wanders the camp until he eventually finds Hassim drilling his men. His company are not quite as ordered as some of the others Usmond has seen and Hassim's swearing soon makes it clear that they are a relatively new group - given to him to 'straighten out'. "As if I could get something straight out of you bent sons of Taldan whores!" His unit is at least 1/3 female, but Hassim doesn't seem to care.
After nearly an hour of relentless drills, when his troop finally gets a full halt from marching correct Hassim calls a break and lets them head to the water butts. Spying Usmond nearby Hassim marches over, swigging a canteen before offering it to the Gorumite. "Despite what I say they're a good bunch. Come a long way in a few weeks."
'It takes time." Usmond says, having done the job himself. He usually used less insults and more silent glares but each to their own. Usmond had a feeling Hassim was talented enough.
"Do you plan on needing them anytime soon?" Usmond asks.
"Kaleem is quite the....talker." The inqusitor says, lacing the word with unsubtle contempt, "But he did suggest a plan to catch this creature..."
"I may try it." Usmond finishes, "It may prove to be an interesting hunt. Gorum would approve but I'd also like to survive it. Do you have a cleric you can trust who can be on hand should I, Etmek or someone else need healing?" Usmond lowers his voice, 'Unofficially, of course."
"Hopefully not. They need more training before they can face the field."
"Kaleem is an armchair soldier." Hassim responds, matching Usmond's contempt with his own. "But he does have a sound mind. His plan might be worth trying. Have you got men you can count on to back you up? Maybe the outriders you came in with? Us regular soldiers have much stricter rules. As to a cleric" He glances around to make sure the recruits are still out of range. "There is a sargeant, Iron Priest, they call him. He's employed as a company medic - but spends more time dealing wounds than fixing them. Say where and when and I'll have him meet you."
Catching a few of his recruits shooting them curious glances Hassim turns and sprints over, surprisingly fast for such a short man.
A chorus of groans rises as the recruits fall into formation again.
Behind Hassim, Usmond looms like an unfriendly god at the soldiers. The inqusitor figures a little fear might straight out unwary feet. His thick neck and battered face will hopefully turn away more curious stares, not to mention the armored ape at his side.
"This Iron Priest, does he worship Gorum? His name implies so."
None of the recruits are able to hold Usmond's glare for more than a second or so before ducking their heads. After another brutal marching session a trumpet sounds across the camp and at Hassim's nod the exhausted recruits fall out and hurry across the camp towards the mess tents. Hassim looks after them with a satisfied look before responding to Usmond. "Yes, a most devout follower of the Lord in Iron. Come, you can meet him now."
Hassim leads you a short distance to a cluster of tents marked by a white pennon on a flag-pole. Inside you see a towering man, with scarred hands and surprisingly luxurious mane of red hair, kneeling by a pallet bed where a woman missing one hand lies. The two appear to be praying until the man stands, lays a hand on the woman's head and nods as she drops straight into a deep sleep.
He comes over to you. "Captain Hassim." His voice is suprisingly high and melodious. "and you, Brother...?"
Usmond smirks at the tired troops, knowing they will later remember this as the easy times.
"I am Usmond Sigdum, a wandering servant of Our Lord in Iron. I have worshiped him on many a battlefield. This my loyal companion, Etmek who, I think, also honors our God." Usmond bows to the priest.
"I am pleased to see Gorum has such devout followers in this place." It aims this at Hassam slightly as well.
"Gorum guide your blade Brother Usmond." the Priest responds. "and you Etmek." He actually bends down to shake the ape's hand and seems unsurprised by the strength in Etmek's grip. "The Lord in Iron finds followers amongst all armies. How may I assist you this night Brother? My patients are resting and my blade is wakeful. We could spar perhaps, to test our mettle before the Lord?"
Usmond looks at the imposing red-haired priest and finds his blood quickening at the thought of sparring with him. It had been long since he had engaged in such a contest....
A rare smile crosses the inqusitor's face, "Perhaps. I came to interest you in another contest however. I have heard of this scourge that plagues your army, the shape-changer."
"I wish to hunt this beast, if Gorum will favor me with luck and skill to find it. Bringing such a beast to bay seems to prove...interesting. Hassim said you were a worthy man of Gorm and could perhaps help me in such an endevour. before I met you I imagined a small, healing role but I did not expect a man of such..power."
Again, the thought of fighting this man enters his mind and the thrill of battle enters his voice, slightly. Next to him, sensing it, Etmek growls softly, not in anger but anticipation.
The Priest's eyes light up with a battle fervor that Usmond recognises. "I have heard of this creature. The woman there lost her hand to the beast. It would be a worthy battle indeed!" He grins widely when Usmond mentions healing. "A small healing role indeed, I serve Gorum on the field and off. Better that a soldier lives to fight again than to die of wounds off the battlefield. Now, what do you know of this beast. If we are to hunt we must plan the trap carefully"
He turns to Hassim, who has been a silent partner in the conversation until now. "Captain, could you arrange for some of the men to aid us? This creature is powerful and numbers may serve us well to contain the creature." Hassim nods firmly and turns away leaving Usmond and the Priest alone in the gathering gloom.
The Priest turns back into the tents for a moment and returns with a mighty greatsword and a whetstone. He pulls up a camp stool, sits and begins to hone the edge of the blade before offering another stone to Usmond. "So Brother, the plan?"
Usmond nods at the man's eagerness. It is right and proper of a follower of the Lord of Battle to want to come to grips with the foe.
"My plan is somewhat hindered by lack of knowledge, but I have seen the beast with my own eyes. It seems to enjoy deception and the ambush."
'I was inspired by the less then brave meanderings of another officer here, but oft from unexpected places comes wisdom." Usmond says, unwilling to name Kaleem directly. "There has been some hint that the creature prefers a certain area. I plan to wait there and stalk it's prey, the outlying companies. The thought of bait occurred to me, but it seemed unfair to use men for such, without being a rightful commander."
Usmond frowns a bit, "A crude plan, watch and wait, but with a stalking beast, what else can one do until we learn more? At the lest, it cannot hide among us, my abilities would not allow that." A pause and then, "Do you know of something that may add to the plan?"
"Simplicity often makes for the best plans." The Priest responds, in between the long rasping strokes of his whetstone. "Shall we split our patrol then? Remain close enough to hear but cover more ground?"
As darkness falls around the two Gorumnites a messenger dashes up and salutes. "Good evening Sirs. Captain Hassim says he has a company assembled and will station them nearby for your signal." Having received acknowledgement he hurries away again.
The patrol is quiet for much of the night, once or twice Usmond thinks he sees a shadow or a strange figure but he can never pinpoint it sufficiently. It is only nearing dawn that both Usmond and the Priest hear a feral roar from Etmek, who was patrolling the camp pathways between them.
Rushing in from both sides they find Etmek grappling with the same figure Usmond saw the previous night. Etmek has one arm wrapped in the creatures flailing hair and seems to be pulling with all his might to prevent the creature savaging him with its bloodstained teeth.
The Priest unsheathes his great sword and shouts in a mighty voice.
"You are called to Gorum's judgement, foul beast." Usmond roars, matching the Priests's tone. A worry passes through him for Etmek but both he and his new ally should be there soon....
Usmond runs up, drawn greatsword in hand.
The inquisitor of Gorum calls to his god and asks for his aid. he stretches out one meaty fist toward the creature and casts Terrible Remorse.
The creature shies away from Usmond as he invokes Gorum's wrath on it, which leaves an opening for Etmek to go on the offensive.
Etmek gets a grip, crushing one arm and a wing together in his mighty grip - even the powerful ape seems to be straining however and it is clear to Usmond that his companion will not be able to hold on long.
The Priest comes barreling in, his greatsword gleaming with an unnatural light in the pre-dawn gloom.
His sword hits home with a peculiar sound that Usmond cannot quite describe, it sends a chill through him as the creature screams in pain and rage. It hurls it wings outwards, but fails to dislodge Etmek's grip.
It screams again, words just about apparent. "I will tear your blood from your bones scum!"
Usmond ignores the beast's words. He had been cursed by many people, in many tongues. The inquisitor does examine it though wondering what type of beast it is. An outsider of some type? He shrugs, time for that after it is slain.
Instead he channels his god, letting it fill him. A lesser man might call it rage, and an uneducated heathen may even have termed it simply tactical awareness but Usmond knew exactly what it was that flowed through his veins at times like this, making him faster, stronger.
It was Gorum himself, filling him.
He rushes forward, feeling his muscles grow to nearly painful size. The greatsword feels nearly weightless in his hand as he brings it down on the grappling creature.
The blow is strong and swift, striking with his full force. As he does he, in his rage he roars wordlessly, in a voice loud enough to break stones.
At the shout Etmek knows his ally is near. It steadies the animal as this creature he is wrestling is stronger then he, the ape can sense it. Still, he knew this game. he was to hold while his friend slew it. The thrill of battle filled his limbs.
Usmond strides in, bringing his own greatsword with a power to match The Priest and leaving a large gash in the beasts side. Just as he hits however Usmond can feel some sort of resistance - the blow doesn't land with the same kind of power it should.
However far from demoralizing the creature it seems actually invigorated by his challenge and Etmek is thrown backwards as he tries to improve his grip on the creature.
The Priest steps sideways to take the creature from the flank and brings his own greatsword down on a wing joint, cutting deep into the wing with ease. Again his greatsword hits with a strange thrum that Usmond feels in the very core of his being.
The creature hisses, one wing hanging nearly useless, before turning its gaze to Etmek as its eyes glow bright.
Etmek, filled with Gorum's wrath, manages to resist whatever magics the creature attempted as it howls again in frustration and vanishes.
Usmond pauses, his prey suddenly vanishing into the ether. He roars in anger, but then stills himself. It aas not the first time his prey tried to escape his sight. But Gorum saw all and provided his servants with many means of detection...With a will, Usmond taps into the divine power inside of himself, becoming even more bestial, more animal like. A sense of wolfish power fills him.
Suddenly the world is filled with deep rich scents. His own sweat, the hairy heat of Etmek, the smell of the unwashed soldiers, the cooling distant sands. He shakes his head and sniffs for his prey, sword in hand, ready to strike.
The sharp, crisp tang of blood and pain draws Usmond down the path which he originally came from, back towards the outer edge of the camp. The Priest and Etmek follow along behind.
As they approach the outer wall, two men in armour shake themselves up from their positions, leaning against a wall. "Halt, who goes there?" cries one. The other, who could be his twin, stays silent - simply levelling his spear towards the Gorumites. The scent Usmond has been following ends abruptly here.
Usmond's trained eye picks up the signs immediately. The slight hesitation in speech, the cocking of the head towards the figure behind. The man challenging them has been magically compelled.
On closer inspection the man behind is the first soldiers twin. Even his breastplate bears the same jagged scar down the left side... Behind him Usmond hears the Priest murmur something. "Gorum, reveal to me the foe that we may destroy it in your name..."
Usmond barely even moves but the soldiers spear twitches towards him. "Hey you! Leave my brother alone!" He slurs, unnaturally jumpy.
Usmond ignores the slurring solider, slashing at his 'brother'.
"Etmek, wrestle him down!"
Usmond shoulders past the first soldier and slashes at the silent twin behind him. The man moves with impossible speed, his form blurring for a second and revealing a hint of wings as Usmond's great sword whistles past. It continues the move to avoid Etmek's lunge, as the first soldier yells, "Hey, stop it!"
The Priest moves in behind the distracted man and clobbers him across the back of the head, which knocks the mans helmet askew but seems to achieve little else.
The twin's eyes glow red for a moment, confirming in Usmond's mind that his was the right decision.
Again he sees Usmond going stiff at his side but his faithful companion shakes off the creatures influence and rejoins the fray!
"You cannot escape Gorum's judgement, beast. His servants do not fail in their seeking." Usmond voice is hard as iron, 'Your doom is in my hands."
He squares up to his foe and raises his sword, ignoring the now wounded befuddled man.
Etmek growls, faced again with the same old foe. The ape moves around so Usmond can flank and then attacks.
Etmek's blows achieve little, the creature side stepping seemingly automatically. The creature responds by biting savagely at Usmond.
Also
As it drains his blood the creature seems invigorated and starts attacking with its claws, becoming a whirlwind of destruction.
Usmond still stands... barely. Seeing this, The Priest barrels in and delivers a massive blow to the creature. As his sword hits, metal from all around the combatants springs to life, wrapping themselves around the creature in a cocoon of holy iron.
Usmond, even gripped in rage and hearing Gorum sing through his veins, reels at the sudden savagery of the attack. This beast could have killed him, or at least laid him low, right then and there. What was this beast....and how strong was it?
Reeling from his own wounds Usmond retains enough sense to see that the beast looks much the worse for wear. One wing is nearly severed and it bleeds from multiple wounds.
As its remarkably red tongue laps out to slurp a blood droplet from its lips, even as it struggles against the bindings, Usmond suddenly realises what it is, a Rabisu - evil fey creatures similar to vampires and obsessed with the taste of mortal blood.
Suddenly from behind them comes a shout. Suddenly the area around the creature is swarmed with soldiers, shoving spears into the creatures body and bashing it over the head with maces and swords.
The Priest looks up for a moment. "Well timed Captain!" he roars, before stepping back into the fray.
Usmond, now armed with some knowledge, prepares to finish the beast. As the soldiers swarm in, he notes the creature looks quite harmed. This was no time to pause and heal. He would trust in his god...
He only pauses long enough to add Bane to his blade. Feeling the magic hum through the blade he attacks it once more.
Etmek growls and adds his claws to the attack.
Weakened by repeated blows and the constant harrying of the soldiers now surrounding it the creature lacks its previous grace and Usmond's blow crashes home, burying the greatsword in its chest. Etmek pounces at the same time, landing two crushing blows to its head. Whatever magic has been defending the evil creature fails and it sinks slowly to the ground.
The soldiers all keep their weapons trained on the creature, wary of a trick as The Priest pushes his way to the front. "You lead us in this fight Brother, the honour of the final blow is yours." He spins his greatsword around and offers it to Usmond hilt first. This close Usmond can sense the presence within the sword - it seems to speak directly to the rage within him.
"Make way, make way!" comes the authoritative voice from behind him as the High Commander pushes his way through the soldiers and surveys the dying creature with satisfaction. "Well done Sir. Now finish the beast that we may talk further."
For a second Usmond wonders if they should take the beast alive....but then shakes his head. A fey beast would never cooperate with imprisonment, especially one as mad as this.
At the High Commander's order he takes takes the priest's sword. The....spirit, the will, the rage inside of it bothers the inquisitor and he steels himself against it. Then he takes the sword and swings it, decapitating the beast. Even as the foul head tumbles across the sandy ground he returns the blade.
"The honor is not mine but Gorum, for he guided all of our arms. This may have ended in defeat if our God had not been with us."
"Praise to the Lord in Iron!" The Priest responds loudly, echoed by the Commander and many of the soldiers present, although a number make the Sunburst Sigil instead.
The High Commander claps Usmond's hand in the warriors grip and begins to lead him away before seeing the state of the man in front of him. "Brother Usmond." He declares loudly. "You are a hero to this army and to me. Rest now and have your wounds healed. In the morning you shall be honored as you deserve!"
Usmond nods his head, but once they are out of earshot he says, "That is not necessary. I still wonder if this was an isolated creature merely drawn here due to the abundance of prey or a weapon used by some foe against you."
But the inquisitor is tired and wounded and he doesn't press the matter. "Your command for rest is well received. Come Etmek, I think we both earned it."
The Priest hurries after Usmond and heals many of his injuries with a mere touch. When Usmond wakes up the next morning he feels like a new man! By the time Usmond is up and washed there is a messenger waiting ourside his tent, although the man is clearly well trained and does nothing until Usmond allows him to deliver his message. It is a simple one, requiring Usmond's presence at his earliest convenience.
He finds High Commander al-Samiya with a couple of clerks dictating a number of orders in a fluid tongue that Usmond now recognises as Kelish. When Usmond arrives the clerks cease writing and the High Commander beckons the Inquisitor in.
"You are welcome, Usmond Sigdum. You have performed a great service for my army and I thank you for it!" He clasps Usmond's arm in a firm warriors grip and bows slightly. "Know that you have a friend in me, if you ever need assistance you can seek me out and I will offer you assistance where I can." He smiles slightly, showing remarkably white teeth, "I also have a more concrete reward for you." One of the clerks stands, and from a chest in the corner of the office removes a turban of blue silk with a jeweled pin in the centre and an elaborate piece of parchment.
"This is your commission, and this the sign of your new rank." Al-Samiya says, suddenly all business. "Inquisitor Sigdum, I hereby commission and appoint you a Captain of Auxiliaries in the Satrapian guard - by the authority of the Satrap, under Sarenrae's light." He approaches with the turban and waits for Usmond to bow low enough to receive it.
"Congratulations Captain. You will meet your new unit when you leave. I believe you are already familiar with them." He hands you a second envelope, sealed and far plainer than Usmond's commission. "Your next orders. Go with speed and health, Captain." One more firm hand clasp and the High Commander returns to his desk.
Upon leaving the office Usmond finds Taresh outside, who straightens and makes a decent, if not military grade salute. "So, Captain Plainsman - we are yours to command!" He says with a friendly grin.
Usmond stays quiet through all of this, trying to judge his new commander.
After he bows for the turban, he says, "I do not serve Sarenrae but Groum. The Dwanflower is a honorable god, if a bit overly pure. I am proud to wear the emblem of your service." Usmond is not put off by the strange garb or other gods. he has served with many armies in many lands.
Outside the tent he sees Tarseh, surprised to see a familiar face.
"That is Captain Usmond Sigdum, to you." The tone is friendly and with a smile but a bit of steel behind it. Over familiarity was bad for morale.
He holds up the envelope, 'Anything to say before I reveal our bound fates?" His tone is encouraging, urging the man to open his mind. Honesty is important as well as independent thinking.
Taresh grins again, straightening somewhat and saluting again, much more crisply this time. "Of course Captain." He replies, smiling the entire time - he seems genuinely excited at this turn of events.
"It is unusual for an outsider such as yourself to be given rank within the Guard, even if it is commanding an auxiliary unit such as ourselves. I would imagine it means the High Commander has further plans for you. It certainly gives you more legitimacy - although you may need to work on your courtesies. We kelish make an art form of politeness. If you ever wish to meet someone outside of our military then be prepared for a truly confusing experience." He casts an exaggerated glance to left and right before leaning in closer. "And our women are the worst by far!"