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Chapter Four
Empire of Ice
Sections of the forest were apparently cleared of any and all Coalition presence. That was what the soldiers had been told, and it seemed to prove true. All the better in which to start their operations. One of the Empires Junior Major's was proving himself in a bid to be promoted to a Senior Major. It was dangling right in front of him, he could almost taste it. And all he had to do was win the battle on the edge of the forest. A small army of Coalition forces, numbering roughly a thousand. Against his soldiers, with numbers around the same. It would all come down to skill. Victory was in their grasp! They were only up against 30 Orcs and the rest were the lesser fighters of the Coalition. What an underestimation. Only a handful of the thousand returned. Barely 30 of them were not wounded. He would have to retreat back to the main camp, established at the ruins of Jathrocarta. One of the Coalitions minor towns. The Senior Captain he had sent, had returned. Clutching a heavy wound to its abdomen, sustained while running away from a flurry of Dwarves, and nursing a broken arm, he wasn't in the best shape. The Major was depressed, watching the column of his soldiers come in, red with blood, weary and dragging their weapons behind them, or at least, the ones that hadn't thrown theirs away to reduce the weight.
Captain Mayus lay in the makeshift hospital tent. A Faun prisoner, obtained from Jathrocarta, was peering at his wounds. The Captain, between shallow breaths, yelled at him. “Well!... Can you fix me?!” The Faun gave a little start, clearly terrified.
“Of course, mighty Sir, the wound will need treatment and I can have the arm sorted with a little bit of Faun magic.” Mayus nodded in reply and collapsed backwards onto his white bedsheets, already stained red with blood. The tent flaps were thrown open, and Junior Major Julias stormed over to the bedside. His face was red with rage. Despite that, he managed to keep an even tone.
“Mayus, what the FU*K! Happened out there?” He seemed he couldn't control his rage with that one word.
“The Coalition! They had... Centaurs. Waiting in the forest. They charged us! We were... Still there and then... The reinforcements came! Dragons and... more Orcs. We barely survived.” Julias opened his mouth, but clenched it tightly shut and marched back out of the tent, stopping to kick at the chained up Faun.
Julias had to leave, but the wounded would slow him down... What could he do? The wounded would make him such an easy target, he would lose his stealth capabilities. But he couldn't leave them. He would have to wait here, hoping amongst the Gods to protect them. Wait until the Coalition had been beat at the battle at the sacred plains. The Verudians would win, no doubt about that. And when the Verudians arrived at Theros to begin the siege, he would be ready to venture out and lend aid to them. He could send a rider to request reinforcements. Yes, he could do that. He wouldn't be turned down, he would just have to be a little inventive with the battle results. The rider was dispatched an hour later to move down to Jathrocarta. They could spare another few thousand, surely.
SPQR! An ambitious historical project, coming soon. Check the Library for early version test writes. Recommended for anyone with a love of history.