Shadow of an Empire

By Joe Ellis

Aside from a minor border war the Empire of Nekrom had at last found peace. Able to finally put to rest the horrific wars of the past, the Empire has prospered. But when the most powerful mages in the land start to go missing, Imperial agent Captain Elderen Haust is tasked with finding out what's really going on. His search will lead him to confront the past and will bring chaos to the present.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joe Ellis
• Release date: Dec 3, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301174317

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Shadow of an Empire

The First book of Eld

By Joe Ellis

Copyright 2012 Joel Williamson

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

Prologue - Nice Day for a Walk

Chapter 1 - Shadow of the Emperor

Chapter 2 - Old Friends, New Enemies

Chapter 3 - Goddess of Love

Chapter 4 - Trust Issues

Chapter 5 - New Thinking is Needed

Chapter 6 - History Lessons

Chapter 7 - Shouting in the Dark

Chapter 8 - Marshaling the Swords

Chapter 9 - On the Road

Chapter 10 - Swords of Battle

Chapter 11 - Firefight

Chapter 12 - Necka

Chapter 13 - The Ritual

Epilogoue - Alls Well That Ends

Prologue

Nice Day For a Walk

The sun was fading over the treetops as the men marched through the forest. The leaves were lush and green, vibrant with life while a heavy breeze blew through the forest. The noise of idle chatter and the odd laugh competed with the wind on this bright day. There was only five men but they were lively, enjoying their walk through the forest. The gear and packs that weighed them down didn’t appear to bother them as they walked. Three carried shovels while the other two leaned on staffs. These two were also the oddest of the group, standing out by virtue of dress and age. The older fellow paused in step and leaned on his staff for a second as he gazed at a fallen tree. He motioned to his companion, a young lad to wait, before he drew in a breath and continued talking.

So as I was saying we’re marching to an old settlement of the Vhiul Empire. Its name was Leial and held perhaps 500 or so in it’s glory. Placed here to harvest the wood of this forest it was abandoned when their empire absorbed the forestlands of the Fald. No longer needing the wood from this region the town eventually faded away. It is however still of great interest to us, as there was a temple to the Vhiul’s nature god here. And I’m hoping there will be enough of it left intact to answer some of my questions.

What sort of questions would those be Master Lukai? The young fellow asked as he stepped over a pile of sticks. He obviously didn’t need the staff by his side as he twirled it around.

Sometimes I wonder if you listen boy. Lukai looked at the lad strangely, pretending to be annoyed. You should know what an abandoned temple of the Vhiul would hold for me hmmm?

The lad grinned. Magic.

Master Lukai bit back a smile and nodded. So you have been listening to your lessons. Good. Yes, Magic, well, the hope of magic anyways, even just some simple history of it would make me happy. And how could a ruined temple of a distant race help us, hmmmm?

The young fellow had to think about this, and his staff stopped twirling for a bit. His eyes fell to the forest floor and he searched there for answers as he slowly walked. Unfortunately all he found on the forest’s floor were some dark flowers. Um, perhaps they left behind some tomes or manuals on nature magic. I forget, sorry.

So you only listen to certain things I see. Well, let’s stop here for a minute so I can test how much you remember. And so saying he sat down on a musty log, took a sip from his canteen and then fixed his eyes on his apprentice. Ok, so who was the first real human mage?

Tere Holders Master.

A nod. Correct, and when did he learn to do magic?

During the last years of the Vhiul Empire’s reign, estimated to be about 700 years ago, I think.

Another nod. Correct again. Before he gifted us with a new understanding of magic what did we use in it’s place?

The lad pursed his lips and gazed across the sky. Well, there were lots of things. Um, ancestor worship, nature shamans, necromancers, daemon cults, and priests of all sorts of gods and spirits. Sometimes their prayers and calls were answered and sometimes not. Even many of the great mages of that day saw their spells go wrong and works fail

Give me an example of this.

His gaze focused as he regarded his teacher. Um, well there’s the famous tale of the Black mage Abhore. He summoned a herd of cows when facing the Vhiul legions at Carelstun. The story says that he was trying to conjure a rain of fire upon the invaders. After the battle it’s said the Vhiul thanked him for the fresh meat. He gave a short laugh at the memory of the tale.

Hard to imagine now isn’t it boy? But there was a time where nothing was certain or known. Was it a lack of understanding or the gods limiting us? Well, we argue about it to this day. And I doubt we’ll ever really know. He shrugged. But it’s not like it matters anymore. I’m much more concerned about where we go with the magic we have now then the failures of the past. All of which is besides the point however. He paused. What was the last question I asked you?

The youth grinned while trying to hide his face. You had just asked me when we were going to get to the ruins. The older man’s face went still. No I’m sorry master, you asked me about the magic we used before.

The teacher’s face softened a little. That’s better. I can understand giving your old teacher a little poke now and then when he drifts off, but I warn you, be careful. No old fool likes to be reminded. Watch your tongue unless you wish to lose it. Most Masters aren’t as kind as I am and an open mouth tends to get shut. You hear me lad?

Yes master. I’m sorry. He offered master Lukai a contrite face. I’m just not used to lessons in this setting. It’s easy to forget that I’m supposed to be learning. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out of the classroom.

It is nice change from the school, although I miss the smell of candles for some reason. He shakes his head. I’m happy to get away from the loud students though. The birdsong is music compared to the stupid questions I get asked. His eyes peered out at the greenery as he smiled. Yes, yes, it’s been much too long since I’ve been out. It shouldn’t be so easy to forget how enjoyable it is to get out of that school and do something again. Oh the school is fine and all but here is where the real magic lives. This is where we struggled and came from as a people. This is where we found the will to rise up and take our place in the world. Hard to believe that humanity has

Uhh, master Lukai? Sorry to interrupt but I can’t see the rest of our group. Perhaps we’ve rested enough? He reached up and patted his teacher on the arm.

Lukai blinked a few times and looked around. Hmmm, you might be right. I’m feeling better after that little rest and am ready to continue. Let’s catch up to them. We have magic to find, secrets to discover! He stood back up, planted his staff and started forth. His apprentice duly followed. Of course this doesn’t mean the lesson has stopped lad. Quickly now, name me the 4 principles of magic.

As the apprentice answered his master they continued on their way through the bright forest with its cheerful birds.

The sun had left the sky and the moons now held their court in the sky. This pale light of the moons joined with firelight to cast shadowy scenes of the men as they moved in and out of their camp. Finding more intact ruins then they had expected, the group had decided to make their camp between a large intact wall and the ivy covered shell of a building. None of the roofs were intact and the men had felt more comfortable out under the stars then stay in the wrecks around them. And although they avoided talking about ghosts and spirits, their hands tightened and their eyes were wide when they gazed out at their ruined surroundings. Of the small group only two among them betrayed no signs of fear. The master and apprentice were not troubled in the least; rather they were excited to be around the remains of history. Plus, they knew that Master Lukai would make short work of any malevolent spirits that might still linger. Besides, this was just the ruin of a backwater town, there were probably more frightening things wandering the forest than such common remnants of history.

The camp had been set up and dinner was finished, where it settled nicely in their stomachs. With nothing left to do the men sat around the big campfire telling stories. Master Lukai didn’t interrupt and politely ignored requests for him to tell some stories from the past. The journey had tired him more than he expected and so he sat there pretending to listen as he dozed. His apprentice listened with relish, asking question after question when they would let him. He wanted to know the smallest details about everything. They indulged him because it was better than the silence of crackling fire and the odd wolf howl.

So you weren’t scared when you fought in those battles? The lad’s eyes were bright and shiny in the dim light.

Of course I was scared. We all were. Being a soldier is scary work. But we share that fear, and as long as you can feel your friends beside you it’s not so bad. Knowing that you’re all going to fight together makes you strong. It well, it’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there. He gestured with his hands, trying to explain. Ok, well, being a soldier isn’t actually frightening. It’s mostly dull and boring. But the fighting, yeah, that’s hard to do. And everyone is afraid before. Ok, well, most people are afraid. Those that aren’t you want to stay away from.

How come?

He looked at this young man and took a breath while running his hand over his scalp. Well the easy answer is, because those types of people don’t care about you or anyone else. So they’re not watching your back.

Another man at the campfire interrupted him. What he’s trying to say lad is that those that aren’t scared get people killed. Usually those around them.

The original speaker nodded. Yes, that’s it. Exactly. If you go into battle unafraid it either means you’re supremely confident or you’re insane. Both of which lead to death. Battle’s never go the way they should and so the only thing that can keep you afloat is sticking together as a team. Someone who isn’t afraid doesn’t care about the people around him, or stick to any plans. Both of which are key to winning battles and staying alive. When a stray arrow or spear can kill you, sticking close and watching those beside you are the only hopes you have. It’s a messy job, being a soldier. You see?

The apprentice nodded, and then frowned. I think so. Not being afraid before a fight means that something is wrong with a person. That’s what you’re saying? His question was met with nods and a few muttered yes’s, but before any of them could say anything he continued on. But what if he’s a real warrior like Oliel? He was not scared of anything the histories say. He was one of our greatest heroes, was something wrong with him?

The men looked at each other briefly, one of them murmured something the apprentice couldn’t make out. Something about a woman’s touch he thought he heard. He was about to ask the man to speak up when the soldier cleared his throat. It’s like this lad. Those are just stories. No one here was there and could say if he truly unafraid or not. But a story wouldn’t sound right if the hero was afraid all the time would it? He paused to let this sink in. And even if he truly wasn’t afraid of anything, what happened to all those that went into battle with him? How many of them made it out alive or even unharmed? You see we don’t know and so it’s hard to take these tales as truths, especially out under the stars on nights like this. I know that your teachers in school and universities will tell you how the world is like this and that, but once you get out into the world, you’ll realize that it’s nothing like what they say it is.

He’s right lad. My family wanted me to be a farmer and would go on about how great it is. And you know what? Being a farmer is terrible. You have to get up early, go to bed late, there’s always more work and if the weather is bad, well, you’re in trouble. Not that being a soldier is much better… This got some laughs and a number of people all started talking at once, all about how being a farmer wasn’t too bad, better than soldiering while others were quick to disagree.

Their voices died down and went still when the former soldier tossed another log on the fire. It kicked sparks high in the dark sky and made the group around the fire blink as the fire rekindled their attention. The man smiled savagely at them and then sat down. If you lordly masters have finished teaching our young fellow about the ways of the world perhaps you’ll allow me to tell a tale? The night’s starting to grow long and I’d hate to go to sleep thinking about farming.

Sheepish nods and gestures of assent met this bold statement. It also stirred the apprentice and his voice sliced through the popping fire. Oh yes! Another story! I’ll be quiet. Promise.

The storyteller eyed the lad and the crowd before settling a little more in his seat. His face was composed as he wiped his hands on his trousers and cleared his throat. "Right then. This is a story from the battle of Hul. I was there, serving in the 2nd legion’s infantry. This was right at the start of the war between the empire and the Tagli. Their army was racing to reach the city of Hul before the 2nd legion could arrive and defend it. The Tagli were advancing fast after having just captured the town of Tern and defeating the garrisons there. With no real defense at Hul the Tags knew that it would fall quick and easy. And from there they could then attack a number of places deep within the empire. The war had just started and it appeared that they had aggressive plans that would see large parts of the empire in their hands within a few short weeks. All they had to do was reach Hul before we did.

"But if we could make it there before them, then it would take months, perhaps years to take the city. And they couldn’t just leave and go somewhere else with such a large army at their backs if they failed to take it. The entire war had been started with the easy fall of Hul central to their plans. While the Tagli are incredibly brave and highly skilled in battle, they aren’t known for getting into fights they can’t win. They won’t go for a kill unless they feel it’s a sure thing. They had pretended to be our best friends, even fought with us against the Acedians but there was no hesitation when they thought we were weak.’

I was a younger man then, perhaps 22. Had been a soldier since I was 16. Fought in a few skirmishes and border squabbles but no major engagements. At that point I thought soldiering was a pretty good job. Lots of simple training, good friends, decent wages for mostly sweating around in armor and waving weapons at each other. Oh there were lots of fights in those days but it was mostly the other legions in the thick of them. We were seemingly always getting to the hotspots after the fire had gone out. We grumbled about missing all the action but no one really complained where the officers could hear. Getting paid to not fight is a pretty good job and I was enjoying myself. Got to see a lot of different places and new girls. He grinned out at his audience and nudged the closest fellow.

But that all changed one day. I remember getting kicked out of my bed, with our sarge yelling his head off at us to get dressed and meet before the officers. The sky was still dark and yet the camp was abuzz with the sound of yelling and cursing. Let me tell you, having your sergeant kick you awake is not a good time. It’s one of the scariest things I’ve lived through and as soon as you realize what’s going on your mind starts to race, trying to figure out what’s gone so wrong. I was dressed and wide awake in moments. And as I raced with the rest of my squad to assemble before the officers I was trying hard not to panic. At that point I figured the Vhiul had returned and the world was ending. He stopped talking for a moment to let it all sink in.

"Now, my mind was trying to tell me, here was where I was about to become a soldier. For all the years I had been a soldier already, the reality was that I had been nothing more than a lazy guard. Standing around in my uniform pretending to be a warrior when I had never done more than clean up leftovers. That was me, an official cleaner with an unused sword. A shovel was what my hands were accustomed to. Unaware that the gods had a different plan in mind.

So there I was, frightened out of my mind as I tried to keep up to my sarge, racing to a clearing where I could see the captains and the marshals sitting on their horses. Part of me noted that we must not be under attack to be gathering like this while the other part was staring at the officers trying to figure out what was going on. They were dressed for war and their armor must have been freshly polished to reflect the torchlight that way it did that night. I’m not sure why I recall that so vividly but I do. I can’t remember the faces of my squad mates that night, but how the officers gleamed, aye, don’t think I’ll ever forget that. There was a loud buzz as everyone asked around trying to figure out what was going on as we waited for the rest of the legion to assemble. It seemed like hours but was probably only two minutes or so until the army was there and the High Marshal motioned for quiet."

Men, he said, get ready to run. Prepare yourself. The gods do battle and we’ve been called on to do our duty to crown and country like we never have before.’ He trotted up and down the lines on his horse, inspecting each and every squad in the legion. ‘Men, he said, the Tagli have invaded. Even now Tern burns and the garrisons are destroyed. The Tags are racing to an undefended Hul. Brave though the men in Hul are, the few hundred there have no chance of holding off the might of the Tagli. And so we march and run, like we’ve never done before. We’re going to march until our feet bleed and we’re going to keep marching even if they fall off. Because we cannot and we will not let the Tagli reach Hul before us. All the daemons and all the gods won’t stop us from reaching Hul first. If I have to follow behind whipping everyone to get us there in time I will. Because men, if we fail, the empire will fall. We are the only hope that our friends, our families, our children, and our empire have And so we’re not going to fail. We’re going to march until we collapse, and then we’ll get up and march some more. And we’ll get to Hul and we’ll crush the Tagli bastards! Because we’re the 2nd Legion and nothing will stop us! For the Empire!

The storyteller had to stop for a few moments, overcome by the old emotions the tale invoked. We could all tell that the speech still had a hold over him and they sat quietly while he gathered himself. He blew his nose on his sleeve and then opened his mouth to continue. I’ll never forget his words that night. And he really got us fired up that early morning. We were all set to start running off there and then, that’s how it felt. But our sergeants reined us in. We were told to get back to our bunks and pack up, we were marching in an hour and anything we didn’t grab was getting left behind. A few were unhappy because they wouldn’t be able to say good bye to their loves. But most of us were eager and ready to go in.

The sun’s light was just starting to peek out when we started to march. I say march but really it was closer to a trot. We would have been sprinting if the officers hadn’t stopped us. Soon enough we had exhausted ourselves and dropped back down to a slower pace. And then it was the officers urging us to keep moving. Reminding us that this was the easy part, and that it was just going to get worse in the coming days. If I remember correctly, we had been stationed near the small city of Qeal when the Tagli made their move. It was about a week’s ride on horse to Hul. The High marshal wanted us to reach Hul in five days or sooner if possible. Looking back it seems impossible and yet I recall thinking that it’d be easy. We were strong and looking for our real first fight, eager to prove ourselves to our families and our Empire.

That was quickly beat out of us at the end of the first day. The sun’s last light was fading and the stars were watching us march on. My feet hurt and I was dreaming about the sleep I was hoping to get soon. That’s when they ordered us to keep marching, slowing the pace a bit because of the bad light. They didn’t want us marching off no cliffs just yet. He gave a bitter laugh at this. "We tried to protest but they laughed in our faces and said that our words were just footsteps we were wasting. They told us that the more we argued the further we would travel this night. That shut us up real fast.

I can’t really recall what the rest of the march was like. I don’t know if I was awake for any more of it. All I remember is pain and thirst. There must have been more but I left it all behind. It’s like a dim dream after that first day. He shook his head and sighed. I’m amazed I can still walk. I’ve never marched like that again. It’s the hardest, most painful thing to happen to me. It’s left its mark on me, on my soul. I often dream of marching on and on and on, never stopping for rest, or food, or family. Marching through snow, rain, deserts, oceans, blood, bones, rocks, you name it, I’ve walked through it.

He shudders and runs a hand through his hair. "And yet somehow we made it. I can see you here with me, so I know we made it.

I recall waking up from this dream march to another speech. We had stopped for some reason. There were officers on horses trotting around yelling at us to wake, get ready, healers rushed around, trying to help those of us struggling to come to. I’m told they refer to what we did as the Deathmarch because so many of us died during it. It was the end of the 4th day and we were being told that Hul was a mere three hours away. They told us to get us much rest as we could because tomorrow we would fight. And then they left us to sleep.

We were woken early again. Rumors were flying and emotions unsteady as we awoke to find comrades and friends missing. Some to be found in the healers’ wagons. Others were never found, their fates unknown. Some said that Alwhon came in the night to take them as part of a pact the High Marshal had made with him to ensure our fast passage. I don’t know the truth, perhaps they slipped away insane from the endless walking, perhaps they’re out there now still marching in some far away land unable to stop even now. I think they just died midstep, collapsing from the dust and the heat, their feet swollen and legs immobile. And then the army ground them into dust as we marched over their broken bodies, unable to hear their cries for help. Strange horrible things happen in dreams and it’s always best not to look to close, lest you invite in a nightmare.

The apprentice opened his mouth to ask some question but quickly shut it when the soldier gave him a dark glare. "Some questions are best left unsaid boy. And it’s not something I like talking about. If we had time I’m sure our missing comrade’s fate would have been explored more, but it was not to be.

We were in the middle of breakfast when word came. The Tagli were on the move, and for all the speed we had employed in getting this far, it looked as though it wouldn’t be enough. The horns sounded and we crammed as much food in our mouths before we ran to get our gear. And just like that we were marching again, this time to battle.

Fear started to trickle its way into our hearts as the events of the past week caught up to us. Would all the pain, the suffering we had endured be worth it? Would we get there in time and be able to stop the Tagli? Or would it all be for nothing, a cruel joke of the god’s upon us? I’m sure those thoughts were in all our minds and while I don’t know what the others did, but I gritted my teeth and picked up the pace. I would rather die on the march than watch the Empire fall because I was too slow. I can recall singing songs during the march this time. Songs of heroes, songs of blood, of death, of war. We went through them all and when we finished we started again. They kept us going, gave us strength and tempted with promises of what awaited us at the end of this deathmarch.

The songs rose and fell, but they never died out. Often they would fall to the point where there was only one person left singing them, but then someone would catch their breath and join in again. It would then sweep through the ranks until everyone had joined in again. He smiled bitterly. I can only wonder what it must have sounded like. Probably like a herd of sick sheep. I can’t really recall the sound, just the feeling of power and energy it gave. Time seemed to vanish and in what seemed like five minutes we could make out the towers of Hul in the distance. The singing stopped and was replaced by shouts as those that had seen the towers made sure everyone else did as well. It was a beautiful sight and spurred us on. Just like that the songs were gone, replaced by a primal roar that howled into the air. I can’t rightly say what overcame us at that time, but it seemed like the gods themselves were marching besides us spurring us on. I recall intense relief at seeing those towers standing there intact under a normal blue sky. The fear that we’d arrive too late and find nothing but rubble and fire must have been present for most of the march but I really don’t remember it. And then, just like that we crested a small hill and there was Hul. He ran his eyes around his audience, measuring them. And there too was the Tagli army.

The bulk of the Tag army hadn’t yet closed with the city, perhaps a mile or so from the gates. But there were a hundred or so frontrunners that were harassing the defenders on the walls. While a giant mass confronted us. Our frantic march halted on that hill in the face of the Tagli might. I wouldn’t say we were shocked by what was in front of us. But like seeing a dream come to life we were unprepared and so we stopped, squad by squad. And while we might have not been as ready as we thought for the fight facing us, our commanders were. The officers yelled, screaming at us form up, remember our training and get ready to kill some Tag scum. I recall my corporal telling us that we’d make them sorry for turning on us. He also said he’d kill any of us that didn’t personally kill three Tags in the fight for him. I remember laughing at that. And then the order to advance was called. Down we went to meet the Tags.

Their army too had noticed us, and they turned from the city to meet us. Where we had paused to organize they had simply turned a bit so that their advance would rush into us. And I want to say they picked up their pace and rushed to us but they didn’t. They stayed calm and just continued on, like we were nothing but bugs that had got in their way. Someone started to sing again, and we all joined in. And so with a song on our lips we marched into war. A great sense of relief came over me because soon it would all be over. The marching, the fear, the exhaustion, one way or another it would end and I’d finally be able to rest.

Both armies continued their marches, steadily closing together and it wasn’t until I could make out individual Tag soldiers that discipline broke. The Tags let out a brutal roar and their army fractured, splitting into large chunks to assault our lines.

The Tagli are traditionally pack hunters, and that is still how they wage war. So while it looked like one massive army marching towards us, it was actually lots of large packs huddled together. Or so I was told later. It looked like pure madness at the time. A solid wave of soldiers suddenly splitting, breaking, and shifting around to some crazy pressure that you couldn’t feel. Some of the Tags, sprang forward, covering ground with massive leaps, while others halted momentarily only to then shift sideways to where their comrades had just been. I could feel my comrades around me stiffen and clench their weapons. I remember a large Tag darting through our lines to slashing and striking anything in reach before he collided with our corporal. They both went down, and there was a flash of fangs, a snap and a scream before the Tag struggled to stand. He never regained his feet as three swords stabbed through his thin leather armor, ending his life. One of those swords was mine, and while I don’t know if it was mine that brought him down, I do know that was the first Tag I killed that day. My corporal’s name had been Iriel and I think he would have been happy to know that his squad cut his killer down moments after his death.

One of the men listening to the tale decided that this would be a great time for a funny remark and so started to interrupt the story. I bet he would have been happier if you had His comrade beside him, gave him a shove and shook his head indicating that this was not a good time for his wit. The old soldier spat into the fire.

Do you want me to finish this story? Most nodded and said they did. The apprentice bobbed his head eagerly. "Alright then.

While that was the first Tag I cut down that day. It wasn’t to be my last. They’re tough bastards, stronger and faster than most of us, and they were cutting into the 2nd Legion like a knife into a sausage. It had appeared that the Tag packs were working independently but that wasn’t the case at all. One or two of their packs would charge deep into our lines and tangle us up. We would then collapse onto the wound bringing our numbers into play to shore up the breach. That’s when supporting packs that were holding back would leap in and tear into us. It was great strategy, and we were dropping fast.

I saw my fair share of Tags that day. I’ve got scars up and down my back where one of their strings caught and sliced into me. I would have died, chopped into little pieces, if the soldier’s besides me hadn’t reacted fast and cut me loose. The battle had become like chaos, weapons came flying, stabbing through the air from all sides, shouts and screams were constant, and my eyes never stopped moving, searching for threats and targets. In the midst of all this we stood strong, repelling every push into our line, repelling the larger Tags with ferocity and a terrible savagery. But alas, we were only one squad and most weren’t faring as well.

There were moments of calm inside the fray. I recall pausing to take deep breathes, and trying to stop bleeding from the cuts and scrapes I’d suffered. These moments of peace never lasted long before they shattered.

I couldn’t tell you how long the battle raged on, nor how many Tags I fought against. The fighting seemed to last forever but eventually the call to retreat was sounded, and so we rushed forward with what remaining strength we had, pushing the Tags line back, before quickly scrambling backwards to what we hoped was safety.

Seeing our army retreating must have sent the Tags in a frenzy because they seemed to roar as one. The sound seemed to shake the sky and more than one of us stumbled and fell from the force of it. And then the race was on as the Tags abandoned order and pack to seize what slaughter they could while we legged it as fast as we could. I hate to say it, but all control on our side seemed to have vanished. Fear ruled all and the law of every man for himself appeared to be written on all our hearts in those moments. I saw comrades fall around me and I’m ashamed to say that I left them. I continued to run for my life and didn’t look back to see what happened to those who faltered. I sit here today amazed that my feet did not crumble and break from that panic driven sprint after that deathmarch which goes to show that you have no idea what you’re capable of until you are forced to do something. But thank the gods they didn’t break!

He paused to rub his eyes. As I ran, the savage victory calls of the Tags changed into a shocked cry, which then transformed into screams of pain. And then, several moments later there was another sound. It was, well, I don’t know how to describe it. It was loud, and terrible. And it made us all stop our headlong flight and turn. And what we saw was glorious and breathtaking! We saw the Tag’s line decimated as a large force of Calvary ripped into them.

Seeing the tide of battle change, most of us clenched our swords and spears and turned back around the charge back into battle. Caught between us the Tags quickly panicked and called their own retreat, giving us the day.

We found out later that had been the plan all along. The High Marshall had known that were largely untested and that marching to Hul as fast as we could would sap our strength. Thus he came up with a plan that would still stop the Tagli. While we raced to Hul as fast as we could, our Calvary headed towards Solt to gather up intact forces from the border, as well as rendezvous with some of the 1st legions Calvary that was heading here as well. We were then supposed to engage and prevent the Tag’s from taking Hul, delaying them until our Calvary could sweep in and catch them unprepared. We were just the bait for a complicated trap. And it all worked like the Marshall wanted.

Too bad many of us didn’t live through it. Hul still stood in our hands, the Empire and our families were saved, the Tagli invasion crushed, and the 2nd Legion was pretty much gone. Only two survived from my squad, and we were considered a lucky squad. Most squads had no survivors. Those who did live received campaign medals, and were officially named the Deathwalkers, in honor of our feat.

He spat into the fire. It’s a grim world where you get medals and honors for burying your comrades.

The apprentice latched his gaze onto the storyteller and said, But you saved the Empire. You’re a hero!

The ex-soldier laughed. Those that died where the real heroes lad. I’m just a useless fool who doesn’t know how to die. I’m only here because they saved my life many times over during the fight. And yet here I am and they’re not. It’s a cruel joke, that’s what it is.

One of the men around the fire piped up. That’s the soldier’s life. You knew that when you signed up. It’s a loser’s game really. But it makes for some great stories!

The old soldier nodded. True, true, and it is a good story. I hope I did the dead proud in telling the tale. They were great friends and I miss them. Encouraging words and some pats were given as many came up to him to express their thanks for the tale. This went on for some minutes before the storyteller raised his voice to address the group once again. Ok, ok, it’s getting late. Does anyone else have some stories to tell this evening?

No one wanted to follow such a story and told him so. "Alright then,