Company unknown 5, p.23
Company Unknown 5, page 23
Those are the things I specialize in. Fast, noisy, and thorough are some of the top ways you’d describe me . . . OK, maybe not thorough, unless it’s paired with words like annoying, exasperating, and awesome, but my point is that being on the other end of the whole search thing wasn’t exactly my strong suit.
I had to be quieter than a mouse and I could only kill members of their group if I maintained that pin-drop silence. Don’t think you need to be told that accomplishing quiet was as likely for me as reciting poetry or having a dignified conversation with an intellectual luminary.
Sitting still—let alone quietly—is also not something I’m good at, but one of my numerous mentors over the years had found a solution for that shortcoming. What I needed was a distraction. Can’t notice how I’m not making any noise if I’m focused on something else. But what could free me from the thousand thoughts of mysterious enemies with mysterious goals?
My favorite subject, of course: myself.
Though I currently didn’t have anything to show for it, I believed I was finally growing my first chin hairs. If I could keep those pesky soldiers from trying to kill me and accidentally slicing them off, I could prove it too.
Taking the quickest of peeks outside showed me that though the enemy soldiers were near, they seemed far from being able to find me anytime soon. Their movements were too casual, and a few of them were joking around. Their leaders quickly put a stop to that, but so as to rein them into military discipline rather than because they disagreed with the soldiers’ assessment of how close their quarry was.
Given the thick underbrush and odd curves of the landscape, my cave was almost impossible to see except from above, but you didn’t always have to see something to stumble into it. I considered creating a distraction to draw the soldiers in another direction but quickly dismissed that idea. If they thought I was nearby, even if it was the wrong way, they’d start looking harder everywhere. Continuing to think I was far away would make them leave faster. Inaction was just so hard. I needed more distractions.
Despite spending my usual minimal time on it, my hair was as straight and flowing as ever. Mom had always wanted me to cut it for the sake of practicality, but it was just so gorgeous I couldn’t do it. She oddly hadn’t argued very hard. I guess it was kind of difficult when she kept hers shoulder length though the smart thing for us would be getting a buzz cut. She at least tied it up into a bun when we were on the road. I always let mine roll out of the back of my helmet. Having an awesome-looking squad leader or commander brings pride to the troops. Mom had always squawked about the importance of morale, after all.
That was something the soldiers outside seemed to need. Their eyes did not display true happiness. The little bit they showed was when they were joking around, and that was something their leaders quickly squelched. I wouldn’t call their reprisals brutal, but it was far above what I would have allowed. Yell? Definitely. Whack? Maybe, if there isn’t much force behind it. Yell and whack? Not necessary. That’s just overdoing it. Creates the wrong kind of resentment. If done too much might even get a leader “accidentally” hit from behind in the confusion of a large battle.
Sure, you could undo a lot of such damage to morale with the Leadership and Commander skills but why should you need to? “Sometimes not doing is better than doing,” as Mom liked to say.
I’d been talked into buying Leadership to correct a lot of my early mistakes, but now that aspect was barely needed. I still wasn’t disappointed to have it, though. An extra oomph in morale always helped, even when it was fixing one of my mistakes.
My squad might have complained occasionally about my brand of leadership—the non-skilled kind—but they made it obvious it was almost always as a jibe. “A little conflict breeds comradery,” as Mom said. “Little” being the operative word that these jokers had evidently missed.
The soldiers below looked poised to prove that true, or at least they had before a new officer arrived. I couldn’t see anything to denote his rank, but his arrival left no doubt he was in charge. It could have been a higher tier of Commander or just those indefinable traits in the upper levels that make their power clear to all without using the Perception skill, but every back straightened on his arrival and any rebellious thoughts melted away.
My spine tightened at the possibility of him possessing some tracking abilities or magic, but he only stopped long enough to give the soldiers words of encouragement, shout a few orders to their leaders, and move on. That did not help my cause at all. Everyone redoubled their efforts and began paying closer attention.
While I wanted to watch them closely, doing so required keeping a small part of my head in view, which could give me away. Nerve-racking as it was, I had to stay completely out of sight, and to do so I needed something else to distract me. Thoughts of skills provided the perfect outlet. Though I couldn’t keep my eyes closed indefinitely—my nerves from what was going on outside were too strained—I could close them for long enough to get the information I needed from the status menu. What I saw the first time brought a greatly needed smile to my face.
I’d gained a level. Spending that new point was exactly the distraction I needed.
Since they were already on my mind, Leadership and Commander as always made some sense, but like I’d said, my natural personality did a lot of those skills’ work for me already. My squad and the ones allied with us already had a natural comradery and esprit de corps. They wouldn’t break or run away unless they had a very good reason to—like being ordered to tactically withdraw. There were spells and debuffs that might cause them to do that when they wouldn’t have chosen to, but we already had several squad leaders and sergeants with Leadership or spells to counter that magic. It sounds selfish to say I didn’t need that skill but impossibly Metric agreed with this assessment when I’d asked her the last time.
My role in the squad was less of a behind-the-lines, shouting-orders kind of leader and more of a dashing champion who inspired them with his badassness. I needed things that could enhance that characteristic; besides, those two skills required me to stay near my squads, which I often wasn’t. There were lots of better options in my list to choose from.
Learned Skills: Bludgeoning II, Dimensional Shift V, Gathering I, Holy Magic I, Leadership II, Medium Armor I, Perception I, Shield I, Swap V, Tactics I
Unlocked Skills: Alchemy, Alcohol Tolerance, Brawling, Commander, Dark Magic, Demolition, Detective, Diplomacy, Dodge, First Aid, Heavy Armor, Heavy Bludgeoning, Heavy Swords, History, Iron Will, Knives, Leathercraft, Polearms, Provoke, Ranged Weapons, Running, Scheming, Swords, Thrown Weapons
Defense was something I’d neglected, but “The best defense is a good offense” has always been my personal motto. Mom actually kind of agreed with that when she said to “focus on your strengths.” Heavy Armor, Medium Armor, and Dodge were out of the running for that reason. Unrelated, but so was the one actually called Running. I already had more movement-like abilities than I needed with Flight, Swap, and Dimensional Shift.
I liked to hit things. It’s fun, and the closest thing to the therapy that everyone swore I needed that I could stomach. I also liked to cause confusion and a wee bit of havoc in enemy lines. Not so coincidentally, both of those had become my primary role within my squad. The options were clear as to which skills could provide either: Bludgeoning, Holy Magic, Shield, Demolition, and all the other weapon skills I didn’t already own.
The non-Bludgeoning weapon skills would provide more versatility, but they would also require me to put away my hammer with all its flying, knockbacking, and phantasmal cloning. Desperation would rear its head every once in a while, but as much as I hate to be a mathy Metric, I’d be better served focusing on my primary weapon skill most of the time. Besides, if I did lose my hammer, one of my backup weapons was a mace that also used that skill. Some enemies were practically immune to blunt instruments, but that’s why I had a squad with other weapons. It was good to have specialized weapons and equipment on my person for such emergencies, sure, but not worth wasting points on.
And speaking of spending money, getting any use out of another tier of Holy Magic would require just that—either directly in buying spells or indirectly in learning ones we found as opposed to trading them for cash. My squad, and now company and town, both required a constant flow of money. I couldn’t justify spending something on myself when there were other useful options that didn’t cost anything.
Unless I was just buying it to get to a later tier, Shield was pure defense. Getting immunity to a lot of the more common debuffs would be nice, but not getting hit by them also made you immune. “Blows can’t hurt you if they never connect.” The only offense in Shield wasn’t for another four tiers anyway. Being able to throw your shield Captain America-style: awesome. Not buying four other things instead of it: a lot less awesome.
Though I knew my decision was down to Demolition and Bludgeoning from the get-go, I’d been trained relentlessly to go through every option when I got a point ever since I’d spent my first one on Gathering. As a young boy who wasn’t allowed to join the company officially for another few years, I’d bought it to provide one of the only ways I’d be allowed to help out. My hopes that it would impress Mom enough to let me join early were immediately dashed by one of the longest lectures anyone had ever received from her. When I got my next skill point, I had to do a presentation in front of the whole company before I was allowed to spend it. Sure, they couldn’t physically stop me from using it on whatever I wanted, but the barbs and mockery were not worth my trying.
After I went out on my own, I still followed that logic. Even the ultra-contrarian me couldn’t disagree: spending my first point that way was one of my life’s greatest regrets. Having to admit (or aggressively hide) that you spent a precious point on a skill that lets you pick berries and herbs slightly faster will do that to you.
Demolition was about the most-me skill in existence. Blowing up one thing? About the most fun you can have. Blowing everything up? The actual most fun you can have. Every ounce of the old me was vibrating in excitement. The current me was barely behind. That “barely” had a name, though, and it was “money.” The skill did not include any natural way to make the big booms (or even the small ones); it required explosives, and to get those you either needed money or the Alchemy skill and ingredients—which, irony of ironies, Gathering was the primary way to find. But since I had neither the time, nor patience, nor more money required to start Alchemy, I would never pick up that skill. Might be able to talk Metric into it, but again with the money.
In short, I died a little on the inside and looked back over Bludgeoning . . . and then came back to life a little when I reread what its tier-three ability was.
Bludgeoning – Level Three
New Ability: Chaos – Chance to inflict a debuff depending on the location where the blow lands (e.g., Stun when impacting the skull, slow attacks and spellcasting on the arms or hands, decrease movement rate or Knockdown when connecting the legs). Chance to inflict such a debuff depends on the quality and power of blow, along with numerous other factors such as the target’s armor class in the impacted area, though the baseline with no modifiers is 20%.
Blowing stuff up was still the most me, but would it be without also causing tons of chaos? This was like that stupid chicken-or-egg thing I could never figure out. But just like that, these were also both true. So, if both were true, did it matter which one I picked? Or would it not be possible because I had to have both?
Life is unfair and full of headaches. But what was the best way to get rid of that last one while also pissing your mom off?
Not to think before leaping or picking a skill or doing really anything.
Wouldn’t that completely contradict the lesson I’d learned from buying Gathering?
No idea, because that would require thinking and I was fresh out of that stuff. I selected Chaos and never looked back . . . or forward or up or down. I was pure chaos already, and now it was official.
32
DOWN, DOWN, AND AWAY!
My self-reflecting revelry had gone on a little too long. By the time I opened my eyes, none of the soldiers I remembered were in view. That no new ones were could have been good or bad. My mind naturally went straight for the worst option. You can call me a pessimist, or you can just say I was learning. Fifty/fifty had rarely ever been in my favor.
My hammer quickly slid into my hand and my legs spread into a combat stance. The first rustle from a nearby bush drew an immediate swing.
The branch never stood a chance. Neither would the soldier who caused it . . . if there had been any. Fortunately, my lifetime of training kicked in and made me focus on accuracy over power. The thin piece of wood cracked so lightly that it would only have been heard if the forest were otherwise silent and you were focused on listening.
With the sounds the soldiers had been making before, neither was likely. After waiting a minute for any reaction, I ducked low and risked a peek. No sharp objects or sharper eyes were there to greet me. A less experienced warrior would have been calmed to find nothing, but I well knew what “the quiet before the storm” meant. I stood back and braced myself. No attack came, which only made me readier.
Figuring that if anyone was there they would already know I was too, I risked casting a Tiny Eye. I edged the floating eyeball high and at the most unexpected angle I could think of before sending it out. Still eerie nothing and eerier silence.
Out of ideas after several scans of every nook and cranny with my Tiny Eye and then one more with my regular eyes while Dimensional Shift was active to search for anyone hiding or invisible, I ventured out with Multidimensional turned on and Swap ready to target anything far away as soon as something else took a swing at me. Wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved when nothing did. I guess all my questions would have been answered if my life had immediately been in danger. That possibility wasn’t what I was hoping for, and I didn’t like it. I really was getting old.
Caution at least wasn’t my first choice. Instead of staying in the spot and carefully searching around, I started moving. A target in motion is always harder to hit—and hits back harder too.
And did I hit hard! I gave all the Chaos I could now muster to the first thing I connected with. Needless to say, it was a lot. My actions might have worked fantastically—might not have too. Hard to tell if trees are behaving differently after you obliterate half their trunk. If any enemies were nearby, the loud crash would have drawn their attention.
“Guess that’s one way to figure out if they’re still after you,” I said to the fifteen feet of very dead tree at my feet.
I didn’t wait around for it or anyone else to answer. Thankfully, my lengthy inner reflections had taken enough time for me to regain all my mana. Flight took me to the air, and I zigged and zagged below the tree line.
The birds chirping and squirrels frolicking put me on edge, but soon I sighted the first pillar of smoke in the distance. The clatter of moving people finally calmed me all the way down. Though chaotic, their movements held barely any haste or danger—just the all-too-familiar sounds of a normal army camp going about their everyday tasks. The shouts were too disparate and distant to mean anyone was rushing to chase down an intruder.
I eased myself into a tree, this time making sure not to turn it into kindling with my new toy. The tree seemed to appreciate it, as the branch held firm and did not drop me on my back or make sounds to alert anyone of my presence.
The camp was in a furor . . . OK, a light furor—maybe just over the border into a moderate disturbance or mediocre hullabaloo. Either they’d given up capturing me or the people in charge of that had moved much further away from camp than I could see. It was kind of insulting after the dazzling work I’d done on the hapless squad that tried to ambush me after I wandered through their portal. And I already had a reputation for stunning awesomeness before that. They had to have heard of me, no matter who they were.
On the other hand, the enemy not treating me as the threat I am would make my current job easier. Of course, if I were them, I’d pretend to have forgotten about someone so unforgettable to get that person’s guard down and get him to prance right into my trap.
Their insult did make me feel like a good prance after all. It was the middle finger of ways to walk. But I was onto them. I’d only prance in a crouch while moving slowly and quietly. Middle fingers can be stealthy too.
But before that, I needed to observe. Sneaking isn’t a lot of good if you do it where everyone’s looking.
The soldiers were in the same uniforms I’d seen them wear before: red tabards with a black eagle at the center. Any time one of them got close enough for a more thorough examination, he showed no other identifying mark. On any army of size I’d seen before, you’d always catch a few with a little extra something mixed in, if not in outright different uniforms. Allied soldiers from somewhere else, soldiers that belonged to some duke who wanted to make his guys stand out, elite soldiers who’d earned extra style points the hard way, leaders who needed to be able to identify their specific soldiers in the heat of battle, or just some goobers who wanted to show off. If this battalion had any of those, they weren’t on the same side of the camp I was. Thinking back to the few soldiers I’d seen while in my cave earlier hadn’t revealed any differences either. This army was either fanatically trained to be completely homogenous or full of the most boring people imaginable. Could have been a shortage on gaudy lace and hats carved out of bear heads too.
Closer examination was needed. Just as I’d observed in my cave, there was a decent amount of screwing around. Not a ton, about the normal amount you’d see from soldiers when they were off duty. A bit of pranking, some gambling, and a lot of drinking. Occasionally I’d see an officer put a stop to them, but just as often one would join in.
