It's one of those rare peaceful mornings in Old Oak. Used to be like this all the time, but my boy loves getting into trouble. He's a lot more like his old man than he would care to admit. Nothing wrong with that, but I wish he'd take a little after his peers or maybe my sister. Hope he never has to learn the horrors of the world the way I did. Can't protect him forever, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.
Searched through the medical cabinets a few days prior, and we're runnin' low. Couldn't make the trip before since my son had been recoverin' from broken bones, but he's been walkin' fine now. Tough enough lad, also like his old man. Should be able to make the trip, and since I was goin' to the city anyway, asked yesterday if anyone needed anything.
Opened the door to Thamolin's room, once again without knockin' as I always forget to do so. He was lyin' in bed still, but he lifted his head as the door opened.
"How you feelin'?" I asked. He sighed and started to adjust himself to a sittin' position. No response for a short time, and I could see the shame on his face still. Then he looked at me and spoke.
"I'm fine, Dad." There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. But his wounds were no longer serious, thanks to the healin' ointments and elixirs. His uncertainty only came from his hurt pride, which would take much longer to recover. So, I gave him an affirmative nod.
"Good. I'm goin' to Baltheris to get more supplies. Anything you need?" Thamolin weakly removed his sheets and started to brace his legs one at a time.
"Wait, I'm coming too." I walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulders, both for comfort and to sit him back down.
"No, not this time," I stated as gently as I could. "You're not strong enough for the journey yet. Stay here and take care of your grandparents while I'm gone. They might need you for chores or for company."
To my surprise, Thamolin did not object. He simply nodded and removed my hand from his shoulder.
"I still need to get out of bed. I'm going to bathe and check up on them now."
I couldn't help but smile. The boy gets lonely and likes to feel useful. It'd be good for both my parents and him.
I picked up the papers everyone left me that listed their orders. Envelopes with money to order supplies and mail to send to families or academies. One of 'em was from Rachel's family, requesting admission to some famous private school funded by the Church. Apparently, she's gifted and wants to be a scholar. Put everything into my dimensional pouch, so I wouldn't lose 'em and started to don my gear. First, my gambeson, followed by my masterfully crafted maille armor. I fastened my belt with my arming sword, bolts, and buckler on my side, crossbow on my back, and skullcap on my head. My greatsword would be awkward to carry, so I placed it in my pouch.
I left the small village I call home and embarked on my journey to Baltheris while the sun barely rose. The trip would be inconvenient, but it's only a two-day journey if the weather's good. Sooner if I'm in a hurry.
I trudged along the road for hours, pausin' occasionally for a swig of water and a bite of rations. The journey had been quiet, interrupted only by the occasional glimpse of wildlife until I spotted a group of travelers hurtlin' toward me. My eyes weren't what they used to be, but even so, I could make out that two of them were armed—caravan guards, perhaps. And if they were runnin'...
I gently placed my pouch down, reachin' for my greatsword. If they were fleein' from demons, I'd need the magic in that blade to stand a chance. I jogged towards them with my left arm raised in a sign of peace.
"What's over there?" I called out when they drew near, their breaths ragged. They continued past without stoppin', and between gasps, the woman managed to utter, "Grack..."
I briefly lowered my sword, seizing the moment to load my crossbow. Then, I raised it again, headin' in the direction they had come from, greatsword in my right hand, crossbow in my left. Grack, those large jackal-like creatures, stood about 8 feet tall. They were usually no significant threat, so I wasn't overly concerned. Staying close to the trees, I shadowed their pursuit of the guards. I had no idea how many of those creatures were out there. As their growls reached my ears, I crouched low, moving from bush to bush with the utmost caution, attemptin' to make as little noise as possible.
Three of them were closin' in on the retreating guards, oblivious to my presence. I aimed my crossbow and let a bolt fly, finding its mark in the throat of one of the beasts. It emitted a guttural squeal, dropping to one knee as it clutched its gnashing wound. The other two turned, sprintin' back in my direction. The grack were poorly equipped, no helmets, just furs for protection and polearms for impaling prey. Easy targets for my crossbow. Another bolt found its mark in the temple of one of my would-be predators. The last one, its eyes lockin' onto the shrub I was hidin' behind, grinned with the confidence of a predator sure of its prey. Tightening its grip on its guisarme, it charged toward me.
To a novice, its clumsy attack might have been intimidating. Still, I parried the blow away with my blade and thrust my sword into its heart in a seemingly swift motion. Unaware of its demise, the creature attempted to press on with its assault, jaws snappin'. But its feeble grip grew limp, and seconds after I withdrew my sword, it collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
The entire episode unfolded in seconds, and I set out to deal with the remaining monsters. Not only could I put an end to their threat, but perhaps the caravan held some medicines I could bring back. They wouldn't be needin' them unless there were survivors. The only way to know was to investigate.
There it stood, the caravan on the main road, surrounded by lifeless bodies of men, women, and Grack. The creatures were feeding on the fallen, even their own kind. A quick count revealed at least a dozen, but I scanned the area for any additional threats. My keen observation paid off; two of 'em were shamans.
Faced with such numbers, especially with spellcasters among them, it was clear I couldn't take them on alone. I cupped my communication orb in my hands. "Kor'tish, I need you, my friend." I didn't have to wait long before a response echoed back.
"Wait. Kor'tish come soon. Kortish close."
I tracked them Grack that ransacked the caravan, making sure they weren't goin' to slip away and cause more harm. Got to put 'em down to keep folks safe, and the supplies they snatched could mean a lot for Old Oak. We didn't cover much ground in the next few minutes, maybe a mile or so, when I felt a tap on my shoulder – a firm yet gentle tap from a hand bigger 'than my head. Turning 'round, I faced Kor'tish, the secret keeper of this land.
Kor'tish was a Jakka, big creatures with green skin that blends in with nature. Jakka are tricky beasts, mostly eating plants and having a real knack for nature stuff. They're good at fixing folks up and tracking things down. They're strong, too, but surprisingly fast and nimble, swinging from tree to tree with their arms or feet. I'm glad he's on my side because the only thing I got over him is my smarts, and even that ain't much.
Quiet as a mouse, Kor'tish talked with his hands. I'll take out them shamans. They ain't much trouble after. I gave him a nod. I'll follow your lead.
Kor'tish plopped his hands on the ground, telling them tree roots to snag them shamans. One struggled and broke free but got a javelin through the chest. At the same time, Kor'tish told them roots to squeeze the life out of the second shaman. Amongst the Grack, it was pandemonium, their spirits all but shattered as they pointed their weapons at us. This was my chance to strike.
I let loose a bolt, aimin' for one of their heads, then marched forward slow and careful, my blade up front. Kor'tish, he kept hurlin' them javelins, tellin' the woods to join his cause, snaring the monsters and catchin' their weapons. One by one, they dropped like leaves in winter. By the time they got near me, their numbers were cut in half. As they saw their pals fallin', they turned tail and started to bolt. I figured it was time for me to go on the offensive. Or so I thought.
I never got close to them four retreatin' 'cause Kor'tish, he jumped meters from tree to tree, catchin' up in seconds, movin' faster than any human could dream. Two Grack tried to defend with their polearms, but he parried with his javelins like it was nothin', and down they went. He didn't let up and gave a mighty kick to another, likely breakin' bones, and that last one didn't last long. It thrust its spear, thinkin' Kor'tish couldn't defend while his leg was still in the air, but he did a back handspring, swept the Grack with his javelin, and pierced its heart with his other javelin before it hit the ground. A dozen dead in the blink of an eye. I was sure glad I wasn't on the other side.
"Thank you for clearin' the road."
Kor'tish shut his eyes and raised his hand a bit. Plants crawled over their bodies, pulling them down into the earth.
"Ta'lei omah zea." He opened his eyes. "Kor'tish no pleasure. Did what he must. Laid them to rest he did. Unnatural creatures no longer harm nature. Become one with nature they did."
"I gotta head back to the caravan they wrecked. Might find some supplies I need. You wanna come along?"
The Jakka pulled his javelins from the ground, where the corpses were laid to rest, and strolled toward me. "More dead there. Need peace."
I led the way; it only took a few minutes. While my big friend did his religious thing, I searched the caravan for supplies. Found a bit of medicine, but mostly clothes and household stuff. Took 'em anyway, along with anything valuable. The village could use it all. Grabbed them weapons left behind, too, for the militia to use. The guards were set up well, though none had firearms. Must've come from a village or a small town, or they'd have had guns or magic-enhanced weapons.
"Shahnaaka strong here. One-eyed giants and other brutes have movement in plains for days." Kor'tish stated.
Cyclopes and them other critters raisin' hell around here? I wasn't sure what he meant, but it didn't sound good.
"Kor'tish, what you mean?"
"This small group part of big group. Kor'tish kill many Shahnaaka, help keep road safe, but too many for Kor'tish alone. Need friends to help. William help?"
Too many for him? This creature could end me in seconds. How the hell was I supposed to help? Old Oak, strong in heart and spirit, weren't warriors. The green giant stood tall, unafraid, and ready to help folks, not even his own. There had to be something I could do.
"Kor'tish must stop Shahnaaka. Shahnaaka harms nature, disgraces Thek'nukie. Easier with friend's help." No hesitation in his words.
"Wait, I might be able to get help. Let me go to the city and see what I can do." So we set off to Baltheris.
Baltheris sprawls like a titan compared to our little Old Oak. The city's got twenty thousand souls bustling through its veins and warriors—properly trained, maybe a few hundred of 'em. Walls standing tall, stonework fortified, and marksmen keeping watch from above. You don't breach Baltheris without some Essence-wielding magic or an army that could fill Old Oak twice over. Back in my adventuring days, the Traveler's Guild was my second home. Figured I'd find help there, though there's paperwork to wade through. Needs the guild master's nod. If that falls flat, Baron Dopperman's my last hope.
"Wait here or come along? Might be a while. Hoping for help at the guild or from Baron. Worst case, I hire some muscle."
"Kor'tish stay. No want any eyes on."
Nodded to the big guy and strolled straight to the guild. Much the same as before, with a few rearrangements—paint shuffled around, new furniture here and there. Guild kids chattered away, taking on jobs from the board. Recognized none of them except the receptionist. No high-rankers in sight. I'm the top dog for now. They're all kids. Wondered if asking for help was smart; I could end up getting them killed.
"Hey William! It's been a while since you've stopped by. How is everything?" The receptionist flashed a friendly smile. The guild hall buzzed with activity—tables scattered with maps and contracts, and the scent of old wood lingered in the air. It felt like coming back to an old haunt, though the faces had changed.
"Hey, Megan. I wish I could say things went smoothly, but I'm here to ask for some help. Got any silver ranks or higher around?" The middle-aged woman rifled through her files.
"Hold on, I think some folks might be on their way back." I waited as she shuffled through Essence-enhanced files, each connected to a guild emblem. "Nope, sorry. Everyone here is bronze or lower, and those on their way back are even lower. What do you need them for?"
"Ran into some Grack on the road from Old Oak to Baltheris, and word is there's giant trouble in the region. Cyclopes, specifically." Chairs shifted as some members rose. I glanced back and saw a group of five approaching, all bronze members. Kids, really, the oldest maybe in their early 20s, but they were packing some gear. The eldest wore thick blue hooded robes with a handgun on his hip.
"Hello sir. My name is Reginald Evergreen, and I overheard you need help handling some giants?"
"Not from you guys. You're too green, no pun intended. Likely never faced monsters like these."
The young man smirked arrogantly, radiating a sense of authority like he was used to getting his way.
"They're dangerous I'm sure. But they are no match for the power we hold at our fingertips. I am a gold card graduate from the Magi academy, and all of my friends are capable wizards or battlemages as well. I assure you, we are no average bronze travelers."
I glanced between Megan and the young fellow. "How many assignments have you completed, and what's the toughest beast you've taken down?" The question was for both, but whoever could answer first.
"I assure you, what we lack in experience, we make up for in..."
"Yeah, got it." I cut him off, turning to Megan. "I'm not keen on the idea of kids getting hurt on my watch. What's their track record?"
She had their files up. "Mr. Evergreen here has a dozen completed assignments in just three weeks as a guild member."
"While that's impressive, there's a reason you're not silver yet. Even if you pull this off without casualties, it won't get you promoted. You'll get there, but not today." I gently placed my hand on his shoulder, moving him aside a bit, making my way to the exit. The guild wouldn't provide the best help right now.
Testing my luck with Baron Dopperman's representative, I headed to the keep. Eight guards at the entrance alone. Most probably hadn't seen real war, but they were better equipped than the Grack or Old Oak's militia. People usually couldn't just stroll in and ask for an audience, but I wasn't normal. I reached into my pouch, flashing my Silver insignia from the guild.
The guards stepped aside, clearing a path. Silver ranks had more authority than low-level nobles or military officers, and often Golds were the cream of the crop in smaller kingdoms. Baltheris might have a dozen warriors who could best me in single combat, and that's considering the current state I had let myself fall to.
I made my way through the keep to find some sort of representative. The men-at-arms were not fools. They kept an eye and ranged weapons readied for me at all times should I try something stupid. The guards at the front had already alerted the others using their communication relics, so there was no surprise amongst the men. Just caution.
I was finally met by a man who carried himself differently than the others. He wore plate armor and had his longsword unsheathed, resting on his shoulder. He didn't have a skullcap as the others did but instead donned a mail coif with some padding underneath to protect from trauma. His skin was darker than fair but lighter than the golden skin the desert people possess. He had a goatee and smiled with an arrogance about him, though I know he would be trembling in fear had we been alone. He was a knight, a noble who served Baron Dopperman.
"Sir Malaven Pricard. To whom do I have the pleasure?"
"William Tavis, tier 4 traveler in the guild. I've come to request aid, as chaos forces have banded together in nearby regions."
"Why not seek help from the guild? A 4th tier traveler should have enough influence to find aid. Former party members, perhaps?"
"I have one ally, but the travelers here are either weak or inexperienced. I heard there are giants among these forces." Gasps echoed, even from the knight, who didn't hide his fear.
"And you want Baron Dopperman to send his men against giants?"
"We pay taxes, as do many other villages. These forces attack caravans, risking an economic crisis if nothin' is done."
"If we lose too many men, we can't defend anyone."
I slammed my foot on the cobblestone floor.
"Then hire a damn archmage or mercenaries! Why should Old Oak be part of a lord's territory if he can't do his duty? And Sir Arseface is too busy soiling his breeches because the coward's too afraid of a few giants!"
The knight tensed, brandishing his longsword while gritting his teeth.
"I demand respect for myself and Baron Dopperman, peasant!"
I spat on the floor, giving him the finger.
"Screw you and your respect. A dog does not demand respect from its betters."
He charged, thrusting his sword, but I easily used my maille armor to defend and closed the distance, grappling him for the blade. A few guards aimed their rifles, but they hesitated with the knight so close.
"Most of you men are not noble or rich. Some of you…" After a brief struggle, I disarmed the knight, holding his blade over his throat. A drop of blood stained the sword. "have family out there where the demons have been sighted and have not heard from your family in quite some time. Do you not care? Do you not believe you should make sure the roads are safe to travel for your mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters? What happened to your oaths, men!"
They exchanged glances. Some lowered their guns, and others lowered their comrades' guns. Nods circulated through the crowd, forming a silent agreement.
"Being a guard is not the most luxurious profession. If money is what you wanted, most of you would have become bladewhores. You took this job to protect the people, considered the risks before. Would you back out now when the odds look tough?"
One guard stepped forward.
"He's right. I think we should convince Baron Dopperman to let us help him. We never have to get close enough to the giants for them to be a threat. We can use hit and run tactics, picking them from afar and leading them to traps and ditches we set up along the path."
Another guard joined in. "I agree. We have an oath to uphold."
One after another, the guards stepped up, a majority of the room volunteering. I removed the knight's blade from his throat, handed it back after helping him up.
"No hard feelings?" I asked. The knight clutched his throat and gulped a bit.
"You've bested me fairly. That was the closest I have been to death in all my years of battle, and rest assured that despite your ease in dispatching my assault, I am no novice in combat."
He extended his hand for a shake, then gave my shoulder a hearty slap.
"Sir 'Arseface' has no quarrel with you. Though I won't go unless the Baron specifically ordered it. I've no wish to face giants or forces of chaos. But if these men offer their aid and the Baron doesn't disagree, then who am I to say anything?"
The knight left the room. "I'll tell the Baron your request. I need the volunteers to come with me. If Baron Dopperman approves, he'll do so only if he knows men are willing to give up their lives." And with that, he departed, followed by dozens of guards.
A few hours later, several dozen men-at-arms and four knights, none the lord I had a scuffle with, approached me. One knight, wielding a lucerne in hand with an arming sword and pistol at his belt, marched ahead.
"Onward, Traveler. Let's make haste. You're in charge, though each lord will lead their own men."
"It will be a Jakka leading the way," I stated.
"A member of your guild?"
"Not exactly."
Some men-at-arms gasped, and the lords seemed amused. The room fell silent. Bigotry against certain species was common in Kal'emsha, especially on the Broeri continent. Jakka faced more prejudices than Drokkar or Elves. The Baron wouldn't be pleased if he knew my information relied on a Jakka's word.
"If your ally is wrong, it will be executed, and you'll be fined or imprisoned for wasting the Baron's time and resources. Let's go, nothing has changed." We left Baltheris, where Kor'tish awaited.
We followed Kor'tish for just a short hour or so before he signaled us to halt. He bent low, examining footprints that dug deep into the soil—large ones unmistakably of giant origin. Accompanying these were several smaller ones of different species beyond my ability to identify. Perhaps Grack, but there seemed to be more than just two different types. A shudder ran through some of the men as Kor'tish sniffed the tracks and even more so when he licked the ground.
"One-eyed giants, three of them. Has many Grack, goatmen, and six bulls." Kor'tish announced as he rose slowly from the ground.
"How can you tell what kind of giants they are?" Asked one of the lords, amazed and slightly disgusted.
"Smell and taste all giants have different. Warm tracks, only few hours." Kor'tish stated as he continued to examine the tracks. The Jakka slowly rose from his kneeling position, appearing menacing despite his non-aggressive nature. "Start setting traps here."
Without delay, we all began digging holes, tying ropes low between trees, placing dwarven explosives, and setting traps of varying complexity and effectiveness. To avoid accidents, men worked in groups. I stayed with my small team of four, making communication easier and ensuring we memorized our traps. Kor'tish volunteered as bait, being the most adept trapper and the quickest among us. A Jakka could run as fast as a horse, maneuvering far more deftly through the underbrush due to their jungle adaptation. The giant surpassed us in every aspect, except maybe politics and scholarly stuff.
After some time, we felt the ground tremble. The monsters Kor'tish had mentioned were coming, and there were a lot. Their arrival was quicker than I had expected. I hoped our defenses were good enough for the impending skirmish.
"Retreat, gods be damned! Move with caution, lads. We need each and every one of you back to your families in one piece." The order echoed through the chaos, a desperate plea woven with a commander's concern for his men.
I fell in step with the tactical withdrawal, my heart pounding not just from the exertion but from the vivid understanding that my son waited for me back home.
"Form up! Stick to the drills!" another knight barked, and I hesitated, a fish out of water in the realm of military strategy. Warfare was not my strong suit. It showed in my uncertain movements.
"Silver, stay back. Support us in the way you know. We don't need our formation weakened or a comrade at risk," the leading knight warned, eyes reflectin' the gravity of our plight. I nodded, findin' refuge by a sturdy tree. Leanin' my greatsword against it, I readied my crossbow, the anticipation mingling with the fear grippin' my chest.
In the distance, Kor'tish moved through the woods, a whirlwind dodgin' boulders, leadin' a chaotic ensemble straight toward us.
"Aim true," the command came, and all eyes focused as the creatures drew near. Kor'tish, a wild dance of movement, used his Essence and the woods to swing gracefully over the trap-laden field. As the creatures closed in, rifles and my crossbow roared in unison. The air buzzed with the chorus of bullets and the desperate cries of our enemies.
Grack and Satyrs crumpled like puppets with severed strings. Even a pair of Minotaurs and a Cyclops fell. Yet, revenge struck swiftly and savagely—boulders crashed, poison darts whizzed, and javelins sailed. The air quivered with tension as we braced for the inevitable response.
It was a song of death, a hectic rhythm played out on a field where life hung in the balance.
A soldier, struck in the neck by a poison dart, crumpled to the ground. His eyes, once alive with determination, now mirrored the dimming embers of the battleground. His labored breaths betrayed the reality of his fadin' life, a brutal reminder of the fragility of our existence. As we gathered the fallen, his passing became a haunting refrain, a stark memento of the sacrifices made in the name of duty and survival.
The lords' desperate cry to "Retreat!" thundered across the chaotic battlefield, and I instinctively shadowed their hurried steps.
The air crackled with dread as projectiles found their marks, rendering a few men-at-arms casualties. A woman not too far from me was impaled in the spine as a javelin perfectly found a chink in her armor. Blood spewed from her mouth, and her arms grew weak as her grip on her rifle loosened, the weapon finally hitting the ground as her eyes became lifeless.
In the chaos, discerning between the dead and the wounded became an unbearable task, each footfall a reminder of the dance with death we were participating in, strivin' to minimize the inevitable toll.
As the monsters pressed on, the carefully laid traps sprung into action. Pits filled with oil claimed several, and those marching past triggered explosives, transformin' the battleground into a canvas of blazing chaos. Amidst the inferno, the agonized scream of a cyclops resonated, its severed leg adding to the fiery spectacle—a brutal ballet of destruction.
For Kor'tish, the ensuing melee became a spectacle. A blur of green dashed across the field, each impalement a rapid succession, a gruesome dance amid the hellish flames. To the chaos-infested creatures, he must have appeared as a demon rising from the very pits of the fiery abyss. The havoc concluded as abruptly as it began. Kor'tish, though undoubtedly benefiting from the strategic traps and the supportive fire, displayed a prowess that left me humbled.
In the fading embers, as the men gathered the fallen, Kor'tish performed his ritual on the slain monsters or what was left of them. Together, we cleared boulders and toppled trees — silent casualties of the skirmish. Twenty men lay lifeless, sixteen more grappling with crippling injuries. The toll may have seemed low compared to the enemy, but it was plenty considerin' the battle only lasted a few short minutes. We placed the fallen on mounts, a somber gesture for a proper farewell if such rituals held any solace for their grieving families.
"Let's return home. That's enough heroics for the week." One of the knights said. They made their way back to Baltheris, some carrying themselves with the youthful pride of being victorious and others with a solemn frown of men who lost friends.
"What now?" I asked Kor'tish as I approached him. The giant turned around to face me.
"Time to move on. Continue to roam these ranges I will. What of William?" he asked, the curiosity evident in his booming voice.
"I need to go back to Baltheris and finish some deliveries before returning to Old Oak. Until we meet again, my old friend,"
"Kor'tish see friend again soon. Maybe better time. Less killing," he rumbled, turning away to resume his solitary journey. I mirrored his departure, retracing my steps back to the city, the echoes of our shared trials lingerin' in the air like a bittersweet melody.