At least they hadn’t imprisoned him underground, which Jonah took as an encouraging sign. He hadn’t been sure through most of the long dark night but the cell had seemed to dry and airy to be a real dungeon and now the tiny sliver of faint gray heralding the coming dawn outside confirmed it. The dawn of a holy day.
At least Jonah thought it was a holy day. Admittedly it was hard to keep track of dates while chasing a demon through the Fierani Forest, but the bloodrager was fairly certain this was Ascendance Day, a religious day of some significance to the followers of Iomedae. Usually it was marked with a public festival including mass songs, story-telling and riddling, not to mention the very popular mock jousts. Jonah wondered if the elves of this place had any idea, or if they would care. Well, so far no one had asked him and the man didn’t expect a sudden outbreak of festivities anytime soon.
Still, they had not treated him too badly, considering he was apparently an outlaw trespasser. The cell was dry at least, if sparse to the point of painfully spartan. A straw mat to sleep on, a small wooden bench and a chamber pot made up all of the furniture. Still, it was clean and fair smelling, with fresh straw and a clean pot. Jonah was sure the fortress, castle or whatever this was, had far less savory holding areas. So clearly despite this dislike for trespassers they didn’t consider him a true danger. Indeed, they hadn’t even bound his hands or feet. Compliment or disdain, the man wasn’t sure. Elves could be hard to read.
Joan had not seen much last night, when the small patrol had arrived after sundown. It had been a long march since his capture and even when his captors mentioned a cell, all the bloodrager had heard was ‘bed’. Still, the place had seemed large and well fortified, with stone walls silhouetted against the velvety autumn sky. More elven soldiers had been bustling around, purposefully moving this way and that, not giving Jonah or the rest of the patrol a second glance. A hive of busy activity, even after sundown. Then some empty stone corridors and this cell.
Not exactly a grand tour, but they hadn’t blindfolded him. Another hopeful sign. They had kept his weapons and gear, of course, but left him all his clothes not to mention his boots. This was no small favor, the weather had been unseasonably cold lately, with chill wind coming out of the Five Kings Mountains. Indeed, just two days ago, before his capture, Jonah had woken to see a glittering frost around his campsite. It had vanished with the true rising of the sun, but it presaged an apparently quickly approaching winter for southern Kyonin.
His reverie was broken as the heavy iron-bound door of the cell creaked open. A figure, not bothering with a lantern or torch, stepped in, moving with the innate grace of an elf. Jonah’s dark adjusted eyes could make out some details however, and he quickly recognized a slim dark-skinned elf who had been on the patrol that captured him. No names had been given, but he had seemed fair and just enough.
”Come with me.” The elf said in Common. Jonah had mentioned he spoke Elven but this had been either ignored or overlooked, and so far, all orders had been given in Taldane. ’Hurry.” A very un-elf like urgency filled the voice, quite opposed to the unruffled professionalism Jhan had so far encountered.
What was going on?
The bloodrager was quickly ushered out of the cell and confronted with two more black figures in a stone-clad hallway, again unlit by any light. Jonah almost stumbled when a quick hand by one of the new figures steadied him. More elves, clearly. To his surprise they had bows on their backs and swords at their belts. Geared for war. Here? Inside the castle?
”Follow.” The elf behind him said shortly, and soon Jonah was doing his best to keep up with the two heavily armed elves. They quickly passed through several corridors, across a cold dim hall and past several rooms.
The hallways were dark and cold, but not empty. Here and there, an elf passed by quickly, many of them nearly running. Jonah only caught quick glances at pale, startled faces. No one said anything, but there was a strange, unsettling feeling in the air, just as real as any smell. Confusion, doubt….fear. Jonah had no idea what was going on, but clearly nothing good.
The cold air seemed to seep into his bones as they walked, boots loud on the bare stone floors.
FInally they crossed under an elegant carved arch and began climbing a tightly wound stone staircase, climbing steeply upward. Here and there, as they climbed, narrow arrowslit windows let in at least a modicum of gray light, so at least Jonah didn’t have to worry about tripping. Twice other elves passed them going down, moving with reckless speed, ignoring Jonah and his captors. Again, the bloodrager was struck by the frenzied attitude, quite different from the business-like activity of the previous night. It reminded Jonah of an anthill after a child poked it with a stick.
Finally they reached the top of the stairs, where a small stone landing led to a closed door. Standing near the door was another elf, one Jonah did not recognize. She seemed older, with slight wrinkles crossing her face, a rarity among elves Jonah had met. How long did it take for an elf to wrinkle? Bright blue eyes gleamed in the dimness, catching the light from the slowly brightening dawn outside. She too was armed for battle, complete with weapons and a large horn at her belt. Short cropped brown hair was just visible under a leaf-engraved helm. At her neck, barely visible behind the folds of her shirt, was a small holy symbol that Jonah did not recognize, two faces in profile, facing away from each other.
Her face was pensive as Jonah was led directly in front of her, and she examined him closely, searching for…something. Without a word she waved a hand and the three elves that had led him here trooped back down the stairs, leaving him alone with the weary-looking elven woman. Outside, Jonah could hear the daily chorus of morning birds, musical notes drifting in through the narrow arrow slits, welcoming the coming dawn. It even felt slightly warmer up here, the stones not longer hugged by the cold earth.
She studied him again for a few moments before breaking the silence, speaking in a formal, elegant Elven, "I am Feaehhao Shamruldlieh, First Sergeant of the Southwestern Garrison Command, member of the Chestnut Set." None of this meant much to Jonah.
"The patrol says you can speak our language? And that you are a soldier? One with experience?” Her rich, cultured voice sounded very tired and edged with anxiety. A note of quiet desperation lingered behind her words. "What is your name, they did not mention to me."
Where was this going? Was this some part of the legal process? Jonah doubted it. It seemed too...rushed, too informal. Not Elven at all. Something strange was afoot.
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Though he was definitely more than a little confused, Johan had an inkling he was about to find out what the hell was going on. In any case, the human gave the elf a friendly, though tense, smile and dutifully replied:
"I do speak your language, Sargeant Shamruldlieh. I've had several elven comrades in arms, and was fortunate enough to learn it. My name is Johan, I am... pardon me, I was... a Sergeant in the Mendevian Army, in the region of the Worldwound. I know my way across a battlefield, if that is what you're asking me." Johan finished, his head bowing slightly in a show of military respect, though he kept staring the elven woman in the eyes when he did so.
It did NOT matter that he was, by all intents and purposes, a prisioner being led around by his captors, or that the person in front of him was quite probably in her late hundreds, Johan was NOT about to be cowed by an elf with wrinkles.
"The language is a good start, although you speak it like a cart driver." Feaehhao said, obviously still in thought. Absently she drummed the wooden limb of her longbow, the sound oddly loud on the small stone landing. It reminded Jonah, somehow, of the drums Kellids still sometimes played.
"So you have fought in the Worldwound then? Good." The elf says finally, nodding like someone hearing an unexpected bit of good news. "Have you lead others? Given commands in the heat of battle and had them accepted? Been more then a mere solider? I have never fought in the plains to the north, I do not know how the Mendevian Army, " She says this with obvious disdain, "Operates. "
As he considers his answer, Jonah hears a new sound. Voices, from behind the inquisitive sergeant, through the heavy wooden door. presumably from...outside? Loud voices, arguing. Most of it is indistinct and indistinguishable, words lost in distance and barriers but Jonah's quick ears catch at least two different voices.
One, louder says, "Well, I won't! It's unthinkable, not to mention stupid."
"Well, then what do you propose, eh? Splitting in two?"
'Don't be absurd. All you have to do.." The voice trails off, losing itself in the bird song outside.
Feaehhao Shamruldlieh winces at the voices but says nothing else.
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Jonah's thoughts were racing, and not even because of what Sergeant Feaehhao said about his accent; his elven mates in the army had said similar things to him, and a particularly derisive elven girl he had been eyeing at the time went so far as to say he sounded like a demon was torturing the words out of him.
Sometimes, he could't help but wonder at fate's deep sense of irony. Johan smiled anyway; he'd learned to appreciate some gallows humor once in a while.
In any case, the kellid was finally grasping a bit of what was going on here. It seemed there was kind of military operation happening, maybe? A skirmish somewhere close? Why else would they be asking about his military training, if they didn't intend to bring him into the field?
And Johan couldn't help but think, judging by the tidbit of conversation he'd just overheard, while also carefully eyeing Sergeant Shamruldlieh painful expression, that the current situation seemed quite dire. After all, not only it seemed they didn't have enough people to cover all their bases, but it seemed they were desperate enough to also seriously ask a prisoner for help? Well, well...
This was something he could work with, then, especially if it meant he would be getting some leniency for having trespassing their land, which he knew in hindsight was something Kyonin Elves wouldn't be very happy about. He urgently needed to get back on the trail of that bloody demon, after all, less he let it get away from him once again.
Johan gave the sergeant a nod, and proceeded to give her a brief explanation of his experience:
"The Mendevian Army is just like any other army, I'd imagine, with maybe a few more righteous pricks than usual" - the kellid says, with an amused upturn to his lips - "I joined the military very young, Sergeant, so even for my relatively young age I have plenty of experience. Spent two years as a soldier in the field, doing scout missions and fighting skirmishes with demons and cultists alike. Got promoted to sergeant, spending one year commanding several teams into different kind of missions, from scouting and intelligence, to evacuation of civilians, to skirmishes and battles for territory with the demonic forces. I was relatively known for my resiliency and dedication. So, answering your question... yes, I do have some experience. Why do you ask?" - Johan inquires, straight-faced, after finishing his explanation.
Though he obviously had an inkling of the reason he was urgently called from the prison cells, he wanted the elf to lay it out to him plainly. Based on whatever was said, Johan decided, he would then see what was the best path ahead for him.
Feaehhao Shamruldlieh took in his words without much change of expression, her slightly lined mouth remained immobile. Not without emotion. In fact, Johan had the sensation the First Sergeant was a turmoil of stress and feelings right now, doing her best to cover them up under a thin veneer of military professionalism. Honestly, between that and being an elf, it was a sign of the seriousness of the situation that Johan could see anything at all.
The elf drummed her fingers one last time, her head tilting slightly in thought. When she spoke, it was clearly more to herself then her (slightly) confused prisoner.
"Served against demons....experienced...speaks even for Alseta's sake....Could this..." Then she shook her head. "No, this is impossible. They would never..."
Outside, the loud voices crested again. The words were still indistinct but they sounded even angrier and derisive, reminding Johan of the worst arguments among the Crusaders.
This seemed to stir something in Feaehhao because she stood up straight, set her back and said, "We must try, at least." Jonah was not sure if she was speaking to him, to herself or to some elven god. In any case she added, "Follow me, Johan, Sergeant in the Mendevian Army," Then, a ghost of a smile flickered across her aged face and the elf looked much younger for a moment.
"We are about to do something very foolish."
She turned, opened the door and led Johan outside.
It was quite a different world, once the bloodrager left the dark cold stone room. He found himself on a narrow stone parapet, blinking in the growing light of a distant dawn. The air was slightly warmer out here, but he could still see his breath forming soft white clouds. Above him, the sky was a milky grey hemisphere, shading toward a faint blue. Even as Feaehhao forged ahead, Johan paused for a moment and did his best to gather in his surroundings, a reaction born of long training. There was a great deal to see.
To the east the land was a rolling forest of bare trees, leaves busy being shed. The bright colors he had noticed on his trip south were mostly gone now, replaced with a dull brown. The sun, a distant band of pink light, was just cresting the horizon, flaring to life.
The forest curved north, roughly the way he had come. The landscape looked like a flat featureless forest but the human knew better. Concealed under that brown canopy were streams and hills, open meadows and rocky defiles. Johan knew them quite well, having clambered over them for a week or so. he also guessed there were elf villages in there somewhere, but had seen none of them.
To the west, the Five King's Mountains loomed like the teeth of some sleeping beast. The mountains were dark grey in the dim light, the sunlight only catching the highest peaks of glimmering snow. Here and there, Johan caught glimpse of tumbling masses of forests, rubble filled slopes and endless deep canyons. A tangled landscape he was happy to avoid, and so far, had done so.
To the south, the land was black and hidden, shrouds of dark mist lingered there. Johan could see few tails here, more just vague impressions. Stands of clustered trees, low depressions, sheets of standing water. Some sort of swamp, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was vast and reached past the edge of his sight.
Finally his sight-seeing must have taken too long because Sergeant Feaehhao said, "I said, follow me."
The elf led the human to where two other elves were standing, facing each other and ignoring the brightening landscape around them. Both seem younger then Feaehhao and armed for war, but there the similarities between the two end. One of the elves is shorter and rapier-thin, with lean , cleverface. Mocking green eyes dance above a rather long nose and gaunt features. A short sword rests at his belt and a bow on his back, over a shining mail coat.
The other elf is taller and heaver-built, wide shoulders rippling with muscles visible even under a heavy chain mail surcoat. A warhammer is leaning against the stone wall near him, the head a heavy silver spike, worn with use. Alone among the elves Johan has seen so far, this one is wearing heavy boots, laced tightly. Most of his face is covered with a close fitting helm, carved into the shape of a biting wasp's head, but the bloodrager catches sight of bright golden eyes.
Both turn toward Feaehhao and Johan, green and gold in turn. For a moment they seem totally confused, like a parent finding a frog in a child's pocket. Then the slimmer elf smiles broadly, using one hand to push back some of his long hair.
"Sergeant....is this what I think..." He offers, voice high pitched and urbane.
"What are you talking about, Miocvus?" The taller elf breaks in, voice deep but rich, not the harsh burr Johan half expected given his size. "What do you think? No tricks, we agreed."
'Indeed, Krehess." The first elf says, a bit of exasperation in his voice, 'No tricks. I have no idea what Sergeant Shamruldlieh is doing."
"A solution." Johan's guide said simply, taking a step tot he side so both elves can view Johan plainly. The lean elf merely looks amused but the taller elf leans forward, mail catching the light.
"I don't....No. You can't be serious!" He finally says, gold eyes widening in discovery and, obvious, disgust. "A human? A human prisoner? This is absurd."
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Johan quietly followed the exchange with mild amusement, his suspicions getting stronger by the minute. In spite of the beautiful scenery and the rising dawn, which felt pleasant and relieving after a night spent in prison, inwardly the kellid was getting a bit worried.
He had always known Kyonin elves wouldn't take well to the presence of other races in their territory; this was something all his elven comrades had agreed on when they told him about their homeland, even if a lot of them hadn't ever been to Kyonin at all.
Given the overall derision he was met with up to this point, the country’s reputation as an isolationist elven land had not been exaggerated by his mates, even if he’d been treated pretty decently as a prisoner.
However, it seemed even Elves were not above swallowing their pride in times of desperation. If the situation was so dire some of them were willing to use the help of a human prisoner, Johan felt he had enough reasons to feel anxious.
Thinking it might be best if the other elves were more convinced than not that Johan should be helping them instead of sitting in a cold cell awaiting trial, the kellid took a forward after the taller of the two guards expressed his clear disbelief and displeasure at Sergeant Feaehhao’s idea, and introduced himself once again.
“Greetings” – Johan says courteously – ”My name is Johan. I am an ex-member of the Mendevian Army, and have enough military experience to maybe be helpful to you. I am fluent in your language, in spite of how unpleasant my accent may be to some of you” – he joked, speaking with some light heartedness as to assure them he wasn’t offended in the lsightet– ” So communication should not be an issue.”
“I have not been properly appraised of the situation” – the kellid adds, darting his eyes quickly to the older elven woman – ”Nevertheless, I presume you are in dire need of some… military assistance. I happen to know my way around a battlefield, and have experience both following orders and commanding units. I... have been fighting demons for several years, you see" - Johan explains, keeping his tone carefully light - " and have seen and experienced enough to last a few elven lifetimes. I'd like you to know I would be glad to help you, in exchange for some leniency and the opportunity to explain myself as to why I was in your lands in the first place” The human finishes, with a slight smile, though his eyes were attentive for their reactions and for any clue as to what might actually be happening.
"Helpful to us?" The leaner elf says with surprise and then glances at Feaehhao. 'You haven't told him, then?"A pause and then he mutters, 'Smart."
The larger elf seems less pleased and says, "Not, not smart. In fact, this idea is so illogical, I'm going to suggest you don't even present it unless you wish to earn a formal reprimand. Give it up Sergeant, and withdraw. Now." The armored elf actually takes a step forward, looming like an old tree over Feaehhao , but she doesn't back down.
Instead she gave a curious gesture, tapping two wrists together, in front of her. An elven salute, Johan surmised. This done, she assumed a parade ground rest and said, loudly, "Due to a lack of clear command structure and the imminent risk of enemy action, I propose we place this human in temporary charge of this garrison."
A long, brittle silence greets this only broken by the rising chorus of bird song. Temporary command? The bloodrager had thought the elves were desperate to be raiding the cells for soldiers, but to look to him for leadership? What was going on?
"It's not entirely without merit,"[b] Miocvus says, the lean elf looking pensive for the first time. [b]'It would certainly solve the problem."
"Nonsense." Krehess snaps. 'Proposal denied." He adds flatly, waving a hand toward Johan dismissively.
"You don't have the authoirty to say that.' His comrade states mildly, 'Which is the whole problem. if not this human, who then? Will you accept orders from me?"
Krehess doesn't even turn, merely laughs, "From a Welcomer? Never."
'And I sure as all the Hells am not taking orders from a Imvrildarai. So where does that leave us?" Micvus says, anger finally seeping into his cultured voice. "Sit here and bicker about squabbles until they come?"
More silence, but then Krehess whirls, "A random human in charge, can you hear yourself? I knew your sect was soft, but not brain damaged. Watch."
The imposing elf turns on Johan, face still shrouded by his wasp helm. 'You, human." he gestures toward Johan, "Hit me."
"You are wearing a mail coat, Krehess," Micovus says , 'Hardly a fair test, not to mention you have nearly a foot on him."
Krehess shrugs, adopting a very lazy fighting stance, obviously more out of practice then any real concern. "Our opponents might be wearing army and how knows how tall the are. How can we expect anyone to follow someone who can't even fight."
He waves his hands at Johan, 'Go ahead, hit me!"
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The words “Temporary Command” were still ringing around Johan’s ears, as if daring him to dispute their absurdness, when the argument broke out about the sergeant’s words. Even listening with half his attention, the kellid could still detect the hints of infighting and bad blood between the two guards, mentally recording the words “Welcomer” and “Imvrildarai” for later inquiry. Right now, understanding those terms were really low on his list of priorities.
Shaking his head in an unconscious gesture to clear his thoughts, Johan looked up at the taller guard daring him to land a hit, and scoffed slightly:
“You really shouldn’t judge your opponent’s worth by their size, big guy. You’ve clearly never had a fist-fight with a dwarf before.”
Hopeful that dismissing such a ridiculous request would not be considered offensive, but too overwhelmed to give a damn, Johan turned to sergeant Feaehhao with his eyebrows up to his forehead. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and decided he might as well break military decorum after such a ridiculous declaration.
“Ok, permission to speak plainly. This has gone on long enough” – The human let out a disbelieving laugh at the end of his sentence, his eyes darting in between the guards and the elven sergeant – “While I understand that you are all in dire need of help, and possibly scared out of your wits, I do need to know what is going on before being given command of an entire garrison, especially one that belongs to a military force I’m not even part of.” – The man’s last words are clearly emphasized, as if reinforced with his barely suppressed disbelief.
“There are hundreds of holes in this plan, Sergeant, and not a single one of them has anything to do with my military training or fighting aptitude, which I can assure you are extensive enough for most people, even considering I’m a bit rusty” – Johan continued, bluntly – ”But you look like a smart woman, so you can clearly see what this looks from my end… I can’t possibly understand your reasoning for an extreme measure like this one before you explain the situation, can I? So, let me say this as plainly as possible, and hopefully you all won’t throw me back into my cell for asking it” – Johan took another breath and exhaled deeply, trying to release some of his tension with it, and inquired slowly - “What in the bloody Abyss is going on?”
Krehess let out a disgusted snort when Johan refused to fight. The big elf rolled his shoulders and took off his glittering wasp helmet, revealing heavy dark features...which, for an elf, still meant he was handsome. A strong chin, broad forehead and a curly mop of dark hair. The bright eyes gleam in the rising dawn light, as he gestures disdainfully toward Johan.
"He won't even fight!" And turns to face the sun.
The other two elves, Micovus and Feaehhao remain facing the human, taking in his words. When he mostly addresses Feaehhao, a ghost of a smile flickers across the woman's face again.
'Do not look at me,' She says , "I am not in charge here, I am the lowest ranked elf on this parapet."
Micovus snorts and leans back against the cold stones of the castle, eyes narrowed, "Maybe, but you leave us a pretty puzzle. Of course, the human is right. It is a bizarre plan, but less so once explained."
Still leaning, he turns his gaze onto Johan, "I see you speak our language, but I doubt you truly understand us. Few outsiders do, for reasons both good and bad. Without explaining several thousand years of history, which we do not have time for, let me say this. Elves have a way of holding grudges and clinging to memory."
"Sometimes, this leads to....considerable division." Still looking away Krehess snorts.
"You are currently witnessing one. Krehess and I are the two surviving ranking members of this garrison but unfortunately we are two members of....rival factions. Even worse chance, ever single member of this garrison, from us down to the newest recruit, are also members of these two groups. The results....well, they are probably plain to you."
"Sergeant Feaehhao is obviously proposing we need an outsider." The elf rubs his chin and raises his voice, tilting his head toward Krehess. "He wouldn't have to actually be in charge, Krehess." The tall elf stands unmoved. "He could be a symbol of unity and a tie-break in case either of us gets too jumpy. Think of him as a ....referee."
"This is no game." The larger elf intones, still gazing out over the black swamp landscape streaching away southward. Johan looks that way but can see nothing but dark mists and hills.
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Johan quietly absorbed this information with a frown, ending up more confused than before. He wasn’t any closer to the real reason as to why they even needed an outsider to intervene in this conflict. If there was even a conflict at all, which was not a guarantee at this point, even if all signs pointed towards it.
“I… see” – The kellid takes a deep breath, looking over to the squabbling elves and forcibly releases the tense lines in his shoulders. Well, this should be interesting – “Alright, suppose I do agree to this. Whatever the situation is, which you haven’t actually explained by the way, let’s pretend for a moment I take over a sort of temporary command post in this garrison, in exchange for leniency over my unauthorized transgression into your territory… if this is to work, both you and I need to know a few things about the other.”
Johan sighs slightly, looking over from sergeant Feaehhao’s pinched expression to Micovus’ and Kehess’ divergent ones. He ends up staring directly into the eyes of the last one, unflinchingly, before turning his attention to Micovus once again.
“I agree with the big guy. Kehess, right? Well, he is right: this is obviously not a game, and I won’t play referee with people’s lives. This is not the job of a commanding officer, and it’s not something I’m willing to do either. So, for the last time, if you guys want me to do this, then I need to know what I’m dealing with here. You are right when you say I know your language, but know next to nothing of your culture and internal disputes. But if I’m to make any difference around here, even as a figurehead of sorts, I need to understand things, all right? Details, reports, officers… I need to know everything I can as fast as possible, because it seems there’s an urgency in your guys tone that is really, really hard to miss.” – The kellid couldn’t help but to poke teasingly into the obvious tension going on all around the place from the moment he stepped out of his cell. However, his amusement faded as fast as it came, and the human continued speaking, expression turning serious once again.
“So, in short, yeah, I need to know things. I need to know about your hierarchy, your current position, your strengths and weaknesses, your numbers, your equipment… Hells, I need to know even about the bloody meals you have in this place.” – The short man replied, his face pinched in slight frustration now.
“If you are willing to tell me all that… well, then we can start working things out. But for that to even start happening” – Johan says, looking at all three – “Then I’ll start needing some answers here, right here, right now. All right?”
"Well, at least he seems to take the job seriously." Micovus says, idlily, still looking at Johan with interest. "It's a start."
Krehess snorts, "I've never known a human to take anything seriously." he turns to Johan, looking down at the considerably shorter man. "Would you rely on a human when battle starts to rage? When the blood starts to flow? When death begins it's dreadful and quickening song? You would trust this one to decide who lives and who dies? How much to give and how much to take? Give this one power to bind and loose? Foolishness, he is as likely to break for the hills as a rebel then fight."
Speech given the elf turns back around to face the morning, cutting a rather dramatic sight against the sun. Shining armor glittering, striking profile lit from behind.
Micovus shook his head, "Before we can give you any information, let's start with the stakes." The elf stands up, pushing off the wall. "Come look with me." The elf gestures to the gap in the head-high crenellations.
Lowering his voice he says to the curious human, "Look to the south. What do you see?" Johan looks over the black stained land below him, vaguely outlines of straggling trees, shimmering tarns and mounds of heaped plant-life. His nose catches a whiff of rank, decaying earth. Before he can reply, Micovus goes on.
"You are looking at the poision of Treerazor. A whole region, twisted and corrupted. You say you fought with the Mendevians, so it will come as no shock for me to say we face a demon."
"Yes, Treerazor is our enemy, and has been for many lives of men. For millennia we have battled with him in our woods, in his swamps and anywhere else his minions roam. His forces are moving as we speak, and a new round of violence about to break. We've had rumors of war for weeks but now the blow is nearly upon us."
The slim elf points a hand to where a small dirt trail leads from the fort southward, quickly getting lost among the dim mists.
"Our captain went that way last night, just when they brought you in. Took two dozen of our best fighters and most experienced scouts, to see what was moving in the backcountry. Only one return, and he is lying below dying of a posioned wound." The elf shook his head, "Raving but one thing was clear before he slipped into the grip of nightmares. An army is coming, an army to take this fortress and kill everyone inside."
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s soon as Treerazer’s name came up in the conversation, Johan’s entire body tensed up, and he struggled to understand the rest of what was said, his gaze locked into the decaying and corrupted forest. Tree-f*!+ing-razer was the enemy. A Demon Lord. F+&~. He was not expecting that. No wonder they were all s*@*ting their pants here. And if Treerazer was the enemy, then his armies would be composed mainly of…
“Demons, right? Demons are coming to invade the fort? That’s what you’re telling me? And they’re coming right now?” - The kellid’s voice was low and dangerous, his expression tight, a far cry from his carefree attitude from a few minutes ago. Johan found out that he had to make an effort not to grit his teeth while speaking to the other elves – “How long did you estimate we have? Days? Hours? What else did the scout say about this army? How many men do we have available?”
While he spoke as calmly as he could and asked important questions, questions he desperately needed the answer to if they had any hope of surviving this, Johan’s mind was speeding a few miles per hour. – So, that’s where that bastard had been heading to… – the young man thought, tampering his sudden rage down. They were probably either hoping to get recruited by Treerazer’s armies or were just seeking asylum with a powerful demon lord. Either way, the kellid would not have such an easy time tracking that particular demon any longer… not unless he could make the little s@~& realize they wouldn’t be safe from him even if they hid inside a demon lord’s undies.
“Come on, why are we just sitting here, then?” – Johan’s demeanor had entirely shifted from his previously curious and pleasantly amused self to commanding and urgent, falling into old habits quicker than he would have expected from himself – “Enjoying the scenery are we? Well, there won’t be much of anything remaining of this bloody bucolic setting for you to enjoy if we don’t get a move on, and fast. We’ve lost a lot of time with you delaying to explain the situation… I will need those questions from before answered, and in turn I can answer a few of your own. While we do that, I need you to bring me to the room where you have maps and props, both of the region and the garrison itself. We have a fort to f#+@ing defend, don’t we? – The human says, after snarling slightly at the direction of the poisoned trees and then turning to look the other elves in the eye.
“If it’s any consolation, you came with this problem to the right person. I know a few things about demons myself…” – Johan trails off darkly, looking once again towards the poisoned trees.
A smile flicks across Micovus's face, droll and dry. "Well, I see at least you understand the gravity of the situation. This is good, but you don't quite understand the problem."
"Krehess and I, we are...hmmm, how to explain to a human." The elf pauses, eyes distant for a moment. "Humans have grudges, and inherit them, from their ancestors. They can be sharp, ugly things, yes? Those handed-down rivalries? Now, imagine that one a scale of thousands of years and personal. The worst of both worlds. I cannot trust Krehess, and he cannot trust me. The same goes for every elf in this fortress. Orders will not be followed, if they come from one faction or another. We will bicker and mistrust until we die screaming under demon fangs."
A soft chuckle, "Such is the way of the Fair Ones." He added, using a archaic name for elves. "We are asking you to stand over an ugly chasm, one not much better then the slavering hordes coming our way. Is that something you want to do?" Micovus lowers his voice even more, barely a whisper, almost vanishing under the birdsong.
"I could get you away. Slip you out a back door. There is no reason you need to die with all of us, because of our stupidity. It is not a choice between leading and dying, not for you. You could get away and live to fight another day. Are you sure you don't want that instead of a brief and bitter siege with a bunch of idiot elves?"
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Johan nods slowly, showing he understood the position he was in. But in truth, he was far from deterred.
"I understand you have your disputes. And I know for damn sure it's not going to be easy... but I have no intention to run. Not after what you just told me". The human says, determinedly.
"You see" - Johan says, looking the thin elf in the eye - "I have my own reasons for accepting this. Personal ones. Firstly, because even if I am merely an ex-soldier in the mendevian army, dealing any kind of blow to demon forces and hindering their influence on Golarion is a matter of utmost importance and a worthwhile cause, especially for a full-blooded Sarkorian like me." - Johan smirks over the grimace he is wearing at the moment, face twisted into savage satisfaction at the idea of weakening the demon's hold in the material plane.
"And I haven't told you this yet, as it's a long story and not really pertinent for the moment, but suffice to say there's a reason I am in your territory, instead of fighting demons in the Worldwound. There's a damn good reason why I left the army in the first place: you see... no matter how much I might despise demons in general, there's one particular demon I despise most of all. I've been on their trail for close to two years now, and I was tracking them in the forest when I got caught by your soldiers." - Johan says, taking in the fort from this poistion and trying to judge it's size and defenses more or less accurately.
Judging from what you just told me, however" - The kellid adds, looking back to Sargeant Feaehhao and Krehess with a self-satisfied expression - "it seems they were here to seek refuge in the demon lord's forces after all. So believe me when I say this: nothing would bring me greater joy than destroying those forces and bringing that f%$*er out of hiding"
Johan pauses then, looking at the poisoned forest again with the heaviest of frowns, trying to see if there was anything there that could somehow warn him of an attack. Then he looks back to the elven soldiers once again.
"And if to achieve that I have to play nanny to elven brats who won't agree that killing demons and saving their land is more important than their damn pride, then that's exactly what I'm going to do. So, I'll ask once again: bring me to your damn war room and let's talk business." Johan ends his speech with a determined expression, leaving no room for doubt of his intention to see this through.
Johan stares out over the sickened lands below, the green shading to black. Nothing stirred there, not yet. But if Micovus spoke true there was an army marching this way, a twisted and demonic one. Johan had fought demons before of course, many times, but never an army. Only the older veteran crusaders knew what that was like and their stories, while chilling, could never convey anything close to the truth.
They were coming.
Micovus smiled, "I have spent a bit time in Druma, diplomatic missions, that sort of thing. And one of their favorite words is 'የተሸጠ'. Do you know what it means?"
Johan actually did, it was Dwarven for 'sale or sold' but with a deeper meaning. It meant 'I am convinced this is a fair trade or idea' and carried some spiritual meanings to some dwarven groups, connected to craft and trade.
Seeing the human's face the elf nodded, "Yes, you've convinced me. So...now Krehess. Not at easy sale."
He pushed off the stone wall and raised his voice, "Krehess, enough of this. Are we going to bicker until the snow falls on our graves? Unless you have another option, I say we go with this." His eyes silently indicate Johan.
Once, years ago, Johan had been on a march with some other troopers when they had to cross a small stream. One of the men had a pet dog, a real ferocious mauler that probably did more damage then half the company. But it was terrified of running water and that day marching, it stood on the bank, quivering. It was torn between two emotions. Fear of the churning current and fear of being left behind. Krehess's face reminded him of the at dog.
Except instead of being divided between two fears, it was divided between two rages. Anger at the idea of submitting to a human outsider's orders and anger at the thought of doing nothing while an army came knocking on the front door of his homeland. Two impossible choices and Johan could see them playa cross his face.
The elf's mouth twisted, his eye's flashed, jaw worked like a man chewing month old jerky. Finally, sourly, Krehess said, "On one condition. If we, or the surviving member of our factions, both agree, we can remove him. A final veto in case he turns out to be an idiot."
"If he agrees..." Krehess paused, looking like he'd rather jump off the parapet then continue but, locking his features ground out, "Then I agree with this farce."
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Johan nods, not mentioning out loud that Krehess plan had a huge, obvious flaw: how could they agree on removing him if they can't even agree to elect a hierarchic leader in the first place, when their very lives are on the line?
Instead, he turns towards sergeant Shamruldlieh and asks, with a solemn expression: "Well, can we get on with it then, Sergeant? We will deal with the silly political aspects of it later, when the demons are dead and buried all around your yard. Shall we move? And while we walk, answer the questions I asked before, please. I need all the details I can get..."
Everyone stands silent for a moment when Johan asks to move things along. It seems odd there is no ceremony, no formal changing of the guard. For an entire elvish army to be turned over to a human with no more accompaniment then birdsong and morning dew? There should be a parade or speeches or....something.
But of course there wasn't. This was without precedent and, truth be told, without much honor. Johan doubted his sudden ascendency would be recorded in any histories or sagas, not written down in any books. Not that such tales were likely anyway, since odds are they were all about to be devoured by demons.
They make an odd procession, the four of them. Sergeant Shamruldlieh takes the lead, respectfully guiding Johan back the way they came, down the spiral staircase. Just behind her, doing his best to take it any words is Johan himself, finding his stride a bit limiting with all these tall, graceful elves.
Micovus was next, moving with an easy lazy stride, quite unlike a military march at all. More like a man ambling about his garden or down a country road. Johan wondered if it was an act, an effected casualness or weather it was true. He seemed like a soldier and yet...
No one would make the same mistake of Krehess. The tall elf moved with a stern stride that would have marked him as a soldier in any crowd. Yet there was something more then just square soldiers and a straight back, A certain...smoothness to his motion, of conserved energy despite his size and armor. The grace of a killer.
Meanwhile, Feaehhao spoke quietly, " First things first. We are unsure how far out the enemy is, the scout who returned was in no condition to share details. He is very..." A short pause and then, "wounded." Johan had images of torn faces, ripped out eyes, slagged skin. He knew what a demon could do. None better.
"Still, probably not more then a day's ride, considering the time the ranging was out. We've pulled all the other scouts in for the time being."
"There are about four hundred soldiers in the fort, although the exact number is unsure. Mostly the full-time garrison but some local patrols and such have been pulled in." A pause and then, "Oh, and a small team of engineer gnomes that live here full-time. Bit of an odd breed."
As they talk, they pass down the staircase and through a number of small stone passageways and rooms. Mostly things are quiet but here and there they pass isolated pockets of elves. One or two seemed to approach them, spot Johan and then pause, obviously confused. How on Golarion was he going to break it to these men? That their commanders were so divided they plucked a random stranger out of the jail cells to lead them?
Without warning, Johan steps through a door into bright sunlight. He is standing outside, on the edge of a simple parade ground. Old flagstones press deep into the earth, old colors fading back into gray. The stones are cut well and fine, but here and there grass is starting to spring up between them, nature valiantly attacking a hostile outwork.
On all four sides the walls of the fortress block his view, only leaving a blue dome of the sky above, now nearly fully lit by the still-hidden sun. It is chilly here in the shade, and Johan can spot traceries of frost on the stonework.
His guide leads him toward one of the outer walls where a curious building lies. An entirely glass shed, glittering faintly in the shade. Through the shining all Johan can see are...plants? Lots and lots of plants.
A brown-cloaked elf stands at the door, looking very young and very nervous. he snaps that same wrist-salute to all of them, eyes flicking from Feaehhao, to Micovus to Krehess and lastly Johan. There is a moment of silence and then, as if suddenly realizing, jumps to open the door.
Feaehhao nods and leads them inside the....what seems to be a greenhouse. A wave of warm humid air rolls over Johan, fragrant with the rich smell of life and flowers. Instantly he feels as if he as plunged into a jungle...or a dream. Plants crowd the space, with thick green leaves interposed with colorful flowers. Reds, orange, blue, purple, everything and anything. Thick vines dangle from the glassy ceiling while other plants strive upwards creating a green canopy.
Only an elf would put a command post in such a place. What a contrast to the places he knew to the north among the crusaders. Shack and tents usually, maybe a cold stone room at best. So was this better or worse?
Micovus sneezed twice, cursed and said, 'Sorry. Happens every time."
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Johan manages a slight smile despite the tension he was currently feeling. Worse, definitely worse; despite being technically
"No worries. It's nice to know that if worst comes to pass, we can always attract the demons to this war room and attack them while they're sneezing " - The ex-soldier jokes half-heartedly. In truth, he was much more preoccupied with the current situation at hand, his mind reeling over the information of the four hundred or so soldiers in the garrison, and how he was going to put them to good use.
"So, I'm fine with this place's flora; all in all, I have to hand it to you, the decorations seem lovely, though I'm sure you have good reason to have so many scrolls and documents in such a humid and open space" - Johan says after a moment of silence between the four of them, his tone filled with merry skepticism; it suddenly felt like no one knew what to do or say, so he resolved to take the lead in the conversation. The kellid was foreshadowing a lot of moments like this one in his immediate future - "but right now I'm not interested in that. We have way more pressing matters to deal with, starting with how we're going to do this."
As he speaks, Johan begins walking around the greenhouse, observing it's intricacies and details, from the types of plants to the objects kept there, ocasionally having to dodge the wayward branch while doing so. After a paricularly tickly leaf, the kellid fought back a sneeze himself. He has been in weirder places, honestly.
"What I need you all to understand: while knowing we have four hundred men is a nice starting point" - Johan says, his voice automatically assuming a military, authoritive tone he hasn't used in years, but seemed to be coming back to him almost as a second nature - "it's useless to have information without ways to implement it in our favor. Firstly, to understand the way the garrison works and how to better defend it, I need a map of it, or at least a rough layout... especially of the entrances and main areas. That's also true for nearby roads and access points." The human looks at each of the elves, judging their reactions to his intrepid, commanding attitude. He then continues his tirade, his frown going heavier and his tone sterner.
"I'm more than aware that I'm the outsider here, but we don't need to let this affect us more than it has to. Of course my knowledge of this place and of the coming army is very limited. But, to our luck, what I CAN bring you is more than enough to compensate my ignorance of your habits and region: I have a certain... expertise on how demons think and act, an effective array of useful military maneuvers, an impartial and objective view outside of your silly feuding and an overall understanding of how to kick demon's asses. To our luck, they won't be expecting an outsider to help the enemy in this fight against them, so I suppose the element of surprise will be nice as well" The kellid says, almost as an afterthought.
"- And so, on that note, I also will need a rough estimative of the army currently marching towards us; as you've brought all the scouts back and we don't have time to send another scouting party when they're almost at our front door, we'll have to go by average data. What's size of the demon forces you're used to fighting in this region? How many combatants would an army of demons from this region look like? Three hundred? Four, five? Are we outnumbered or even numbered here? As chaotic and unpredictable as demons might seem to you, they are also coward little buggers, and they almost never do any militayr operation, or anything really, without significant tactical advantage over their opponents. If the demons are marching towards us, they're expeing to win. But they don't know about me, and let me tell you all something about myself: I'm not very keen on letting demons do anything, at all.
Johan's voice, going a bit hoarse now from speaking so much after spending so much time in silence recently, vacilated at the end, his speech finishing at an aggressive tone, hopefully conveying to the other tree how much he did [inot[/i] want demons to get their claws into this garrison. Tilting his head, the kellid began considering the three soldiers before him, before continuing once more.
"Lastly... as this is a frequent and long-draw-out war, I'm assuming some of you have actually fought demons before. It seems you three have seen your fair share of battles, but how about the rest of the troops? Are the soldiers experienced or novices, wet behind their ears? Have they done more than just scouting and the odd skirmishes, spending their time cleaning the garrison and doing your odd wrist salute everytime someone important comes by, or do they also have experience fighting those things? I know elves live long and all, but that doesn't always equate experience in the field, so I really have to ask. How well-trained and experienced are these four hundred men in the fort?"
Before any of them can answer, however, Johan surges on, finishing his somewhat impassioned speech.
"I don't mean to sound derisive, but from my point of view, right now, there's scarcely more important things than information and experience. I'm sure I'll be getting the information from you, but we do need ALL the experience we can get. For us to have a shot at this without losing all our forces to an army of demons, I need to know EVERYTHING I can, every tiny detail I can get my hands on, and use every bit of your own knowledge to our advantage before passing on military judgements. This entire garrison may depend on it.
After a brief moment to let this ominous revelation sink in, he ends up just exhaling and saying, roughly: " But before any of that, however, can any of you get me a glass of water? I'm parched, and speaking this much it's not doing any wonders to my throat, you see" - Johan saysm a bit sheepishly.
It is hard to read reactions to his little speech amongst the dense foliage, with leaves and flowers surrounding them. Even as he talks (and walks), he has to push crawling vines and leafy branches out of the way, the rustling loud enough to have earned a whipping from his old veteran trainers. Still, from what he can see, the human wonders if maybe he laid it on too heavy.
Micovus still seems detached and amused, his heavy-lidded eyes fixed on Johan. Sergant Shamruldlieh stands at attention, easy with long practice, in the shade of a rather truncated oak tree, apparently trimmed to fit inside the glass greenhouse. While obviously listening closely, her only reaction is to sweep an errant acorn off her shoulder. Krehess however, stalks about like a caged animal, half-hidden by shadowy greenery. Johan notes though, despite the big man's armor, not a single plant is crushed. He carries his helmet at his side, giving Johan a good look at his handsome face which is, right now, revealing more then a bit of anger. Clearly some of Johan's words about experience have struck home.
Feaehhao breaks the silence first and says, "I think we can solve the last request first. Right here is the water." The three of them step around a large bushy covered with soft lavender flowers that smells of morning dew and honey, to find a small clearing. In one corner is a tall basin, shoulder high, with a vine just above it. From some cunning cleft cut, pure water drips down into the basin, soft and musical. A few crystal cups rest on the basin, their use obvious.
But Johan only has eyes for the other bit of furniture. In the center of the clearing, lies a table fortunately free of vines or growths. The table itself is simple enough, although the wood bears the usual marks of Elven craftsmanship. Clean lines, smoothed edges and elegant simplicity. It the top of the table that so interests the Kellid.
It is a model of the fortress, carved out of solid oak. Or, judging by the perfect smoothness of the counters, grown out of the wood somehow? In any case, it is a an imitation that would make an artist cry. Despite it all being polished brown, Johan can instantly make out every detail. Towers, walls, outbuildings, even areas of disrepair. A tiny smoothed path leads from the gate, winding across the detailed surface. The only color is, around the edge of the table, a fringe of green leaves, matching the forest outside.
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“By the Inheritor…” – Johan says involuntarily in kellish, ridiculously surprised at the absolute masterpiece before him. Realizing his blunder, he quickly switched to the elven tongue once again, clearing his throat a bit – “Well, I’ll be damned. Have to hand it to you guys, this will do nicely. I always get surprised at how good you elves are with your bloody hands...”
Still feeling parched, Johan approached the basin and gratefully took several large gulps of the crystalline water, using his hands as means to gather the liquid and pour it into his parched throat. Ah, that felt divine.
After half a minute drinking copiously from the water source, Johan turned back to the other elves, only to find them wearing the same expressions on their faces as they were half am inute ago: Sergant Shamruldlieh looked impassive as always, the perfect portrait of professional military, which reminded him starkly of his first sergeant in the Mendevian army. Micovus, on the other hand, seemed to find everything happening an amusing concept; it felt like the elf was merely watching a theater piece playing out rather than indulging in the play himself, keeping himself at arm’s length of the happenings around him. The kellid idly wondered if it was a defense mechanism to stress.
Krehess, as expected, still looked mutinous. Literally. It did not surprise Johan in the least that the huge elf wouldn’t immediately be open to orders, criticism or inquiry. Krehess seemed like a very proud, very closed-off warrior, fiercely loyal but incredibly difficult towards people he did not openly respect.
Unfortunately, Johan did not have time to earn the elf’s respect the traditional way. Even more unfortunately, he also needed every single one of them to trust him implicitly if he had any chance of making this ridiculous situation work out; if any of his orders and decisions got disobeyed or dismissed in the heat of the moment over petty squabbling and derisiveness, the demons would undoubtedly seize the opportunity to make mincemeat out of them.
To his luck, however, Johan had met people like Kehess before. He remembered one particular stubborn dwarf girl named Brunyar, a soldier who served with him as his subordinate during his first run as a newly-promoted sergeant. She also had had a pretty similar attitude towards him, hating being given orders by a fresh-out-of-the-oven sergeant like Johan, no matter how logic and sound they were. The kellid smirked briefly, having fun in imagining how the huge elf would take to have his stubbornness being compared to a dwarf’s. Then the kellid’s smile vanished.
Johan had remembered exactly what it took for Brunyar to start respecting him. Ah, dang it. Well, it looked like Kehess was getting his way, after all.
Squaring his shoulders, the human rolled his neck slightly and stretched his arms, directing his gaze at Kehess’ defiant one. The ex-soldier's arms dropped to his sides.
“Ok, you win. Looks like you’re getting that fistfight after all -” He lets out casually, while looking directly into Kehess’ face to watch for his reaction. He kept going anyway.
“You won’t respect me at all until you know for sure if I’m decent in a fight, right?” - Johan asks in a completely rhetorical question, while breathing deeply and letting the air out slowly in a heavy sigh - “Well, you are getting your wish. Fistfight, swordfight, weapon fight, free-style… it doesn’t really matter to me. Let’s do whatever you’re more comfortable with, as long as it’s brief, as we still have a lot to do and not enough time in our hands. But I’ll only do it one condition: if you lose, you have to swear, be it on your god, on this sacred land or on whatever it is you most hold dear, that you will cooperate and willingly accept me as your temporary commander, following my orders without question. If I lose, you may humiliate me however you wish; you won’t have to listen to me at all, you may snub me in front of the other soldiers, undermine my decisions and do whatever the f!$~ you want. I’ll take it quietly. In any case, I will still push the demons out, with or without your help, because someone needs to. Deal?” – Johah finishes, a serious and determined look on his face.
Johan can't help but notice he leaves a good bit of grime in the basin after drinking from it, his hands dirty after a night spent in the cells, plus how many days on the road. Johan wasn't an animal, but any means, but he had long ago found his own standards of personal hygiene varied from most people. The human had a feeling elves would have even different, and perhaps radical expectations. Johan did feel a bit bad about leaving the water soiled for the next person.
Anyway, more important matters were at hand.
Before Krehess could speak, Micovus broke in, actually stepping forward from under his shady tree. "Is this really necessary? You already agreed Krehess, and while I don't trust you as far as I can throw you," he pauses to look at the tall, heavily armored man to let the weight of that remark sink in thoroughly before going on, "I don't think you would actually go back on a promise. What is punching him going to prove? How tough you are?"
"Besides, shouldn't be conserving our strength.....and time? Posturing aside, there is a possibly very large army barreling down on us." The elf finishes, looking a bit perplexed at the sudden change of events.
Krehess, however is already shaking off his armored gauntlets with thinly disguised delight on his broad face. Turning to Micovus he says, mock formal, "I am only following the orders of my commander. I live to serve, as do we all."
With that he turns back to Johan, flexing his bare fingers. For a moment he considers the smaller man, sizing him up in more ways then one. Then the tall elf drags an armored toe across the ground, creating a dark brown line of dirt amongst the fallen leaves and flowers. "We mark a circle and first to be pushed, thrown or retreat outside of it loses? That way," [b]He smiles grimly, [b]"You don't get hurt too badly?" He puts on his wasp helmet, hiding his face from view.
His voice echoed hollowly in the humid air of the greenhouse, made metallic by the helmet. "Sergeant, mark out a circle please. Not too large, we want this to be interesting." Sergant Shamruldlieh, her slightly aged face looking a bit bemused by this display shrugs and starts to mark out a circle on the greenhouse floor, quickly shifting leaves litter to the side.
Micovus throws up his hands and retreats back under his shade tree, shaking his head and muttering about Calistrian pride and arrogance.
Soo the circle is finished, roughly twenty feet across, taking up the entire clearing and a bit more so there are a few bushes and even a small tree near the edge. The basin and cups also lie within the fighting space, too solid to move easily.
Krehess looked down at Johan and bowed slightly, taking up a stance ten feet away. "Shall we begin?"
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Johan nods at him, popping his neck and shoulder with a slow twist of his muscles, and cracking his knuckles at the same time. He didn't have much time to lose.
He noted the drawn circle, calculating the odds of finishing this as soon as possible. Hmmm... it was worth a shot. At least, it could surprise the man enough to put him off his guard.
“ Well, don’t mind if I do, then. ” The young man says, and then rushes forwards with sudden speed. Wanting to finish this as soon as possible, Johan uses his considerable strength to try and push the man’s body forward until it’s out of the circle in a single movement.
Most fighters would have talked or taunted. Circled, looking for an advantage or probing for weaknesses. Johan did not waste time with that. He did not have time for that. Instead the man exploded forward like a runner out of the blocks, head down and shoulders forward.
Krehess was clearly surprised at the suddenness of the attack and barely had time to react. Seeing there was no way to dodge the oncoming storm, the elf weaved his fingers together and slammed them down on Johan's exposed back.
The blow is a solid one but nothing serious, and Johan slams into the elf with the force of a heavy cart. In fact, the human hits him so hard the paladin is bodily lifted from the ground and actually thrown backwards. After this second of impact induced flight, the elf hits the ground in a tangle of armor, limbs and leaves, throwing up a small cloud of dust. And, Johan notes with satisfaction, ends up outside the circle.
Krehess, still a confused pile on the ground, groans softly.
Micovus looks at the Johan, to the fallen elven warrior and back to the human. "Well, that answers that. If it comes to it, Johan can just push all the demons all the wall. " Sergant Shamruldlieh smiles at this, but the atmosphere changes when Krehess regains his feet.
Rubbing his head, he sways slightly. "What did he hit me with?" he mutters in Elven.
"Sense." Micovus says bluntly. "Can we get back to planning now? As much as it is to watch him toss you around like a dried fruit, we do have the whole 'unknown demon army' bearing down on us?"
Krehess pauses, glances at Micovus then turns to Johan. Slowly, although the human isn't sure if this is out of reluctance or residue of being hurtled ten feet through the air, says, "Command us then...." A pause and then, "What is his title? Surely we can't give him an actual rank."
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Wincing a bit at the blow on his back, Johan manages a half-smile at Krehess. Damn, his back would smart for a bit, back Johan knew he would be fine before long; that elf hit like a Gallu, but if there's one thing his body was used to, it was recovering from all sort of wounds.
"Sorry for the cheap shot, but I wanted this over as fast as I could." - Johan smiled a tad apologetically - "Now, on the matter of name and rank... well, you can call me whatever you want, this is honestly my last concern. But if you elves don't have a proper name for outsiders helping you, then I suggest you just treat me as a military consultant. In official terms, you could just call me Sergeant Johan, as it was already my old rank in Mendev anyway, so you are not technically giving me any new ranks within your own army." - The human manages a slight smile, but his frowns comes back with a vengeance as he thinks about the situation at hand" - "But enough of that; if the title thing raises any hackles, we'll cross that bridge when it comes to it. We have a fine mess in our hands at the moment, with several lives depending on our success, so let's focus on it instead."
Johan turns away from the three elves, looking at the miniature of the fort in appreciation and calculation; there was a lot to be said about elven manneirisms, but no one could say these intricate elven tools wouldn't be of great help.
While examining all exit points and floors of the fort, he privately wished some of his superiors in the army were there with him... indeed, Captain Hailey was particularly adept at this kind of strategic thinking; her insight would have helped tremendously.
He did not have this luxury, however, so he pushed those thoughts aside. Honestly, Johan didn't even know if Captain Hailey was alive or dead. He lost contact with all his mates after he left the army to look for that damned demon... It really wouldn't do to think useless thoughts in a time like this.
"We have to prepare ourselves for a siege, immediately" - Johan said seriously, looking back at his elves companions - " Send letters to any and all forces that aren't currently occupied and that could help defend the fort; we will need reinforcements as soon as possible, on the risk of losing an important and strategic place into this war of yours... and that's not even counting the elves lives we'd lose in the attempt to hold on for longer that we should have to. Any problems with this immediate plan?" - The kellid inquires, raising an eyebrow at the three of them.
In Johan's mind eye he can see Hailey, leaning down over the exquisite model. What would her keen mind see, what would her eye notice? More importantly how would she begin?
The human had no idea. His own thoughts would have to suffice.
"Yes, sir." Shamruldlieh Says to his first orders, "Rumor is going out anyway. Most of the rangers and scouts are already here, but a few more will trickle in. Hopefully they can bring us some final reports, give us an idea what is out there."
Micovus added, "I wonder if this is an isolated attack. if this is part of a larger invasion...we may be on our own for awhile. As you indicated," The elf said, clearly not quite willing to call Johan Sergeant just yet, "this is a strategic point, but not the most vital. The country behind us is pretty rough, wooded country. Good defense terrain, without many villages or towns. Farther west, the land is more open. It is there that the demons will hit hardest, if that is their aim."
"Still," Krehess intoned, sounded serious, "This hold the eastern flank. If we fall, it'll open up everything else to attacks. Not to mention cutting off any hope of help from the dwarves. "
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"I see, I see..." The kellid's thoughts were once again going a mile per minute, trying to absorb all new information. In this myriad of mixed news, one thing stood out to him, however - "You say we hold the eastern flank, right? The mountains aren't that far from here, then. How's your relationship with the dwarves? What are the chances of them answering a call to arms to help boost our forces?" - Johan inquires, looking over the others with a tilt to his head. The unasked question of "How many allies can we possibly ask help from" weighted heavily in the kellid's eyes.
If they wanted a chance at this, Johan felt it was imperative to know exactly how many allies they could possibly have, because the enemy most likely already had done a rough estimation of it and really liked their chances, as they chose to stay invade anyway. Demons were selfish and reckless, but unfortunately neither stupid nor short-sighted. This was specially true for their higher ranking officials; the strongest demons who gave orders to the lowliest of their ranks were cunning and highly dangerous.
If they had any hope of holding this fort, one thing stood out to Johan: they would need every slight advantage they could get their hands on.
The elves look at each other when Johan mentions the dwarves. For a moment the human's heart sinks, but Shamruldlieh's reply is straight forward enough. "Not bad. We don't deal much with them of course, you know dwarves. Happy to stick to their own business. Still, we do some trade with them, now and then, and they have some herdsmen who travel down this far during the spring season. As far as asking for help..." The female elf glances at the others.
Micovus nods, 'It's worth a try. Dwarves certainly have no love for demons and I think they have some strong military units in this part of the range. there was that nasty orc band a few years back. I think we have a few scouts who speak Dwarvish. Still, it'll take awhile to send someone, have the dwarves decide and for them to head back. Bit of a long term plan, I think. Still, every hope is something."
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Yohan nods along, half satisfied with Shamruldieh's reply. It's not ideal, but it's something, and if they can hold on long enough, it might be a way to catch the demons off guard and turn the tides in their favor.
"Well, I guess that's that. As far as long term goals go, calling for back up is our best bet, in any case, so this is something I strongly we recommend we start on as soon as possible. Now, a few questions about your soldiers, if you don't mind" The man says, looking over to the miniature fort once again. He sepnt a few seconds calculating the odds of properly defending the place with four hundred soldiers and an odd team of engineer gnomes, looking for the best defensive options he could think off, trying to see the situation as Hailey would.
It wasn't easy. Still, he had to try.
"Ok, then for mid term goals: on a perfect scenario, if we manage to lock ourselves up tight and hold, how much time would we have? Wow long would we last until we run out of provisions, be it food, medical or magical supplies?" Oh, that just gave Yohan an idea.
"And on that note, is there any consecrated items and/or holy weapons and ammunition we can use or distribute to the soldiers? Some emergency supplies? Or, at the very least, cold iron equipment? Those are all very important questions, you know; demons are usually resistant to normal weaponry, as I'm sure you guys are aware, and we want to give our soldiers as much an advantage as we possibly can." The kellid said, looking over at the three elves. WHile he was sure they had enough storage room, he had no idea how their supplies have been distributed recently, and he doesn't think they'll get many chances to re-supply in the next few days.
For a few silent moments, Johan pondered the exquisite eleven model growing out of the table ahead of him. He stripped away the art and presentation, trying his best to see it only as a representation of the fort, to view it strategically. It was a lot to take in.
An outer moat, long drained of water, now just a marshy ditch full of weeds and plants. No trees thankfully, at least. An outer wall, with the eastern part is some disrepair. Not falling down, but obviously weaker then the rest. A few small round towers built into this outer defense, small and squat, tiled roofs. Empty space behind, with some workshops, storage buildings, a small mustering yard.
Behind that another curtain wall, slightly higher, in good shape. Only two towers here, taller then the wall they are built into it. The little greenhouse he is standing in is sheltering behind this wall. Behind that, the small keep.
Kress takes up the reply, the big man still rubbing his head slightly. "Provisions are not a concern. There are several good deep wells on the ground, and good cisterns. Combine that with a few magical purifiers, and we have enough for an army three times our size. Generally the same with food." He glances at Shamruldlieh who nods firmly.
"Might not be the freshest stuff, but there is enough salted meat, dried biscut and the makings for more to last a year or more. Besides, I think there is a Cauldron of Plenty or two down in the stores. Food is not a problem. Um, sir."
Well, one less thing to worry about. At least they wouldn't starve to death or die of thirst. Sure, demons might overrun he walls and dig their bowels out with hot pokers, but by the gods, those guts would be full of tasty elven gruel.
As far as other supplies....Micovus coughs, "As for the rest, I'm not sure. I don't think we have a full inventory of what is in the stores. There is a great deal stacked up down there, but no records. The old quartermaster was killed in the same attack that took our the Captain. It was all in his head, I'm told." He shook his head, "Common elf problem. Why write something down when you can just remember it? Paper degrades so quickly. The gnomes might have a list?"
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As they talked, Johan couldn’t help but quietly ponder the vastly different mindset elves had regarding time. Why, indeed, write anything down when they could all easily outlive parchment and ink? S+&%, that was a bit tripping. And annoying. Time to move on.
“ Ok, so no supplies problem, that’s good. However, we probably still need a full check-up of the rest of the equipment. Let’s talk to the gnomes, see if they have at least a partial inventory. And speaking of engineers…” The human was pondering things rapidly, going from one idea to the other quite fast, his mind trying to absorb all the information it could, and forming half-baked ideas for further inspection while at it. It was slightly disorientating, but he would get used to it. Eventually. Making large-scale decisions like this wasn’t normally a thing Johan had been used to a sergeant, but the situation indeed called for it like nothing else would.
“We’ll need to see if we can get ourselves some old-fashioned war machinery to help against a siege. Do you think those engineers can help with that? Ballistae at the top of the fort, for instance, for long-range threats… need those specially to take down any trebuchets the enemy might bring with them. Magical or otherwise.”
The kellid had renewed his pacing, anxious energy brimming of him at all the stuff that needed doing. HE tried to center himself, using some of the discipline he'd learned to calm his thoughts and heartrate, trying to ease a bit of the mood. "One last thing to say before we move on from these kind of discussions for now: Do we have means to set up magical alarms and other traps near the entrances? It would be a sure way to protect ourselves against stealthy infiltration. Some demons can turn invisible, you know? Dirty buggers. Once, a friend of mine was in the bushes and…” - The kellid trails off while looking at the elves’ expressions. That might have been a bit too much in terms of easing the mood - “Right. Story for another time. Maybe.”
Johan cleared his throat, smothering his amusement at remembering that particular story. Feeling his vochal chords strain a bit with the amount of talking it had been doing for the past fifteen minutes, the kellid thought he might need a little more water. As he’d been travelling on his own for a few years now, the human wasn’t used to speaking much anymore; not that Johan lacked social interactions when he needed them, for one reason or the other, but those were far and few between. Most of his time was spent on the road, his life dedicated to a single-minded goal. Now, the kellid needed to direct an entire fort full of elves to make sure demons didn’t run the place down… Not an option, especially if Johan intended to draw that m!*$%$~+!+@@ out of hiding behind that Demon Lord’s skirts. And he bloody did.
[b]“That said, let’s get things moving” - He continued, after a slight pause - “Call a meeting with the soldiers and the gnomes, let’s introduce myself as some sort of military consultant to the rest of them, and let us prepare. We all have a lot to do, and very little time.” The human concluded, looking the elves in the eye once again, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation once more. Not that they needed it.
Shamruldieh nods, "Do you want me to fetch one of the gnome sup here or do you wish to descend into their own little kingdom?" The sergeant offered a small smile, "They have, sort of taken over the storage vaults below, for the last few centuries. Unofficial, of course but we haven't gotten around to dislodging them yet."
Micovus nods at the mention of war machines, "I think there is some of that in storage, or at least the parts. Keeping it on the walls seemed foolish since it would rot away in only a few centuries. Last longer under cover, uh, sir."
Johan's little demon story passes without comment (save perhaps a few raised eyebrows).