The Wall of Death Pt. 3

When they arrived back at the Arsenal, the other warbands had arrived. Grimcrotch gathered all five and the gladium together to go over the situation and told them of the Flame Legion trophy wall. They all got furious, vowing revenge. The soldiers unpacked supplies that Brimstone sent with the reinforcements while Grim spoke with Dinky alone for a bit.

With those who needed it patched up, one gladium had to sit out the rest of the upcoming fight with a bad tear in his leg, they set to work reinforcing the defenses Grim and the rest had already built. ‘Fyon,’ Grimcrotch called to Dinky’s second in the warband. His old friend came trotting over to him, ‘Yes sir,’ then saluted. ‘I keep telling you to drop the formalities, Fyon. We have been friends too long for it.’

Fyon grinned, ‘Alright sir, what’s up?’ Grim nodded. ‘I need you to take over the gladium if you would. With five warbands here and them, it seems we’re short a commander. How about it?’ Fyon’s eyes lit up, ‘Are you serious sir? Of course! Thank you, Grim.’ He looked over at Dinky a few yards away, who knew it was coming and thumped his chest with his fist then saluted.

‘I think a field promotion is in order, we can take care of the formalities later. Now, they are still rough on the edges so work them hard, but I think you’ll do fine,’ Grim said shaking his paw. ‘Congratulations my friend, can’t think of anyone else who deserves it more.’

The other legionnaires and Grim’s warband walked over, patted him on the back and shook his paw. The Centurion spoke up, ‘Fyon, gather your warband here for a moment.’ The new legionnaire called out ‘Gladium, front and center!’ The group gathered in front of him and Grim, who spoke up.

‘Charr, you are temporary charges of your new Legionnaire Fyon the Wraith, part of the Wraith warband. You will respect him as you would me. Whether you are accepted by him or not is fully dependent on how you handle yourselves in the upcoming fight. This is your shot, make it count. Now get yourselves ready to move out in a few hours.’

Heading toward his map and other gear, Grimcrotch walked past the new warband and slapped the angry soldier from the cave in the bicep; the charr looked at the Centurion as he walked by and grinned, then turned to sharpening his greatsword, looking forward to impressing his new legionnaire by shedding some Flame Legion blood. And Grim was looking forward to letting him.

——

Some napped, most tinkered and cleaned weapons, armor. Nearby, a guard walked the beat from the n. east door to the south door at the lumber mill east of the Arsenal, past a pair of wood stacks inside. As he neared the second stack on his left, a small corner of wood suddenly lit fire, a small match sized flame. He stopped wide-eyed and exclaimed ‘What the –‘, looking around, then back at the flame unbelieveably. He rubbed it out and walked away, shaking his head.

When the guard turned around at the doorway to walk back, an elementalist, sitting in the dark of a giant saw blade shadow, tilted his head down from observing. When the guard neared a stack of wood, the elementalist flicked a claw, torching a small corner of wood into flame again. The guard started to curse and put it out, saying the mill was haunted, and tried trading duties with another; the troublemaker quietly laughed to himself in the dark.

Rathgaar Firemane was always known as a loose cannon; well, just like the rest of Grim’s warband actually. But when you have that title in an entire warband that has it, and Dinky, you get respect. He was warband-less when they found him, but not a gladium, for all of several hours.

Rathgaar Firemane

Rathgaar and his warband fought for four hours at the Stonesheath Overlook village on Ironhead Lake against the Flame Legion, and he only left after everyone was killed and there were no more buildings for him to defend.

In a last ditch effort he fought his way back to the Black Citadel through the Ascalonian City Ruins, bloodied and barely walking, from Iron Marches. From there he made it to Temperus Point in Plains of Ashford, where he was escorted to the Citadel. Grimpaw Grindgear found him and walked him back to the Canton to be patched up, and he explained what happened.

The Grimcrotch warband and two more of the battalion ran off to Stonesheath Overlook and the village on the lake, killed and torched everything within a half mile of the village, then soldiers rebuilt most of the buildings. And after leaving a security contingent, it was the quietest six months they ever had.

When they returned to the Citadel the next day, Grim offered Rathgaar a spot in his group; with revenge on his mind and the reputation of the [XII] ‘Bloody Twelfth’ Blood Legion Battalion, there was only one answer for the elemental to give.

The Wall of Death Pt. 2

‘We are on our way right now, trooper. I need you to rest for only a moment then get to Black Citadel and send the Shredskin and Wrathclaw warbands to me at the Arsenal, then inform Tribune Brimstone of the situation and bring back any orders. Got it?’ Grim placed his paw on the charr’s shoulder looking him in the eye. ‘Understood, sir. On my way…’ the messenger saluted then ran off toward Nagling.

The Centurion stepped outside the tent and whistled, waving the gladium over toward him. ‘Let’s move out charr, to Bulliyak on the double.’ Grim announced to those gathering near him. ‘We’ve got Flame Legion moving in there, and you get a crash course in re-learning how to pull those triggers and swing those swords in a real fight. Grab your gear and let’s move out.’

Grimcrotch, Dinky, their warband and the gladium left camp near The Breached Wall, fires still burning and tents where they sat, and took off toward the Arsenal post-haste. Even as quickly as they left, when they neared Bulliyak they could see fireworks around the outer walls from the first attack. A small force of a dozen Flame Legion were taking potshots at the fort guards. Grim and his two warbands quickly took care of them as they ran up.

‘He looks familiar….’, one of the gladium said, looking at a dead enemy charr on the ground with a scar across one eye leading down his snout, as they turned and went into the lumbermill.

Grim found Remaris Earshot, bandaged and laying on the ground near a saw, who gave him her appraisal of the situation. ‘That’s all I know, sir. I heard part of what they planned to do, then mid discussion they discovered and nearly killed me. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.’ Grim crouched down next to her and patted her shoulder, ‘You did a fine job, soldier, couldn’t have asked for more. Stay here and out of the way for us.’ She nodded.

Grimcrotch and Dinky began shoring up the Arsenal and lumbermill defenses, throwing stacks of wood that couldn’t be made into defensive walls, into piles near doorways to slow and/or block Flame Legion entry, positioned snipers all over the mill and facing each doorway.  About an hour later Elexus Shredskin and Legionnaire Wrathclaw with their warbands arrived, and Grim brought them up to speed on the situation.

——

The soldier he sent to retrieve the other warbands came up to him afterwards. ‘Sir, Tribune Brimstone said he is gathering two more warbands to send our way, and as soon as he can inform them they will be heading here.’ The Centurion turned from him and looked toward the northwest doorway, ‘Nice job soldier, thank you. Now take your place there near that door,’ he nodded to it, ‘and keep a sharp eye out.’

The charr saluted then ran to his defensive position. There were no attacks yet, just probing. Grim told Shredskin and Wrathclaw he was taking his warband and the gladium to the south and west near Holystone Caves to recon the area. Past Reaper’s Corridor and north of Nemus Groves, a small pocket of Flame Legion popped up and began shooting at them from behind rocks.

Several gladium flanked them from the north while Grimpaw Grindgear with his flamethrower and Dinky did so from their south. The enemy didnt know which way to go, north or east to be shot or south to be toasted; they chose to run back west toward the caves.

Grim and Dinky with their charr followed them. As they arrived at the caves, Grimcrotch silently motioned for Dinky to take the warband north along the rocks, he would take the gladium into the caves.

The Centurion motioned for them to move quickly but quietly into the pitch black caves, and no lights. Leading them into blackness feeling along a wall, he stopped when he felt something moving on his paw; it felt like something on a string, hanging from a rock. He tapped a gladium two times, halt and be wary. Suddenly the whole room lit up from gunfire, first Flame Legion then the gladium, several of whom fell, then it turned into a deadly hand to hand melee in the middle.

Grimcrotch leaped into the fight between gunshots with his dual axes, throwing one and as it stuck in the charr’s chest Grim jumped at him, burying the blade of his second axe in his neck at a downward angle. Dinky and the warband heard the shots going off, and ran back to where he left Grim and the gladium, lit a torch then entered the cave.

——

Several of the warband carried out the wounded gladium while Dinky and the rest moved in on a wave of anger, overwhelming the rest of the Flame Legion who weren’t dead, pushing them back against a wall on the end of swords and bayonets being twisted in. ‘Kill them all.’ Grim said, wiping his axe blades on a corpse and grabbing the torch from a gladium, looking around at the walls.

They were covered with charr (dog) tags. There must have been tags from 50 different warbands, many old, easily over two hundred in total, and several of what looked like entire warbands that were wiped out. The gladium still in the cave looked around at the walls in disbelief; one stepped forward and took a set from the wall, eyes watered and making a fist with it in his paw while looking up at Dinky across the room.

‘You,’ he growled angrily. ‘None of you legionnaires believed me when I told you what happened to my warband. You rejected me. I was treated worse than a scrapper; I have never been anything less than honorable and you spit on me. Look at this,’ he waved toward where he removed the tag, ‘every tag from my warband is here. Draw your blade legionnaire,’ he said as he drew his greatsword, ‘you’ve insulted your last honorable gladium.’

Dinky pulled his greatsword, several of the warband stepped forward with drawn weapons; Grim stopped him and stepped quickly to the gladium, shoving him back to the wall by his throat and held him there. ‘You better back off soldier, before I gut you right here. You never came to Legionnaire Dinky or myself and told us what happened to your warband. You are here right now because I know many of you are getting a raw deal, and I am giving you the chance others wouldn’t. You need to direct that anger where it belongs, at the Flame Legion who killed your warband. We are here to help you do that.’

The Centurion let go his grip and turned to Dinky, ‘Let’s patch up the wounded and get back to Bulliyak Arsenal,’ he said. He turned and looked up at the wall of death with disgust, ‘and get those tags down from there for Light’s sake.’

The Wall of Death Pt. 1

One of the things about Grim was he could usually be found in Hero’s Canton, it kept him respected among his charr. Most officers above Legionnaire gravitated toward Black Citadel to schmooze among other officers; but he was one of them fighting in a trench, or using his Charrzooka to open a hole in defenses taking a hill, he was one of them they saw out of the corner of their eye carrying wounded from the front line. If it needed to be done on the battlefield he never hesitated. Sitting behind a desk while his charr died was not an option.

And becoming Centurion simply gave him a bigger clan to fight for. Grimcrotch considered each and every charr a soldier first and clan second. But much like any clan, there were always those who didn’t pull their weight. Instead of putting up with that, he sometimes gathered a loose band of gladium to fight in local battles with Flame Legion or Ascalonians to see if there were any of them worth bringing back into charr society.

Some gladium were outcast through no fault of their own, warriors whose warband was wiped out and they being the only one left to tell the tale, others not trusting their word enough to take them in thinking they had ran from a fight. Fyon the Wraith was one example, his warband was wiped out. But instead of resigning himself to the gladium fate he kept fighting alone, a true warrior.

Many gladium actually did run, afraid to fight. Those Grim thought should be executed, there was no excuse for it. But there was no sense in killing innocent charr if you had no proof.

He had discussed his plan with Rytlock Brimstone soon after he was made Centurion; it seemed a waste to have these useless gladium wandering Black Citadel while soldiers were out fighting for them, why not weed out the good from the bad, he said. Brimstone told him if he was willing to put up with those rif-raff, he was welcome to give it a go.

——

‘Listen up, gladium. All of you here are your warband, this is it. You are all former soldiers so you know the drill. If you don’t want to fight, leave right now because I won’t tolerate it, and if I see you running away from battle I will shoot you myself. Is that understood?’ Grim stood paws on hips, looking around at the group of seventeen charr he was giving a second chance. A few mumbles of acknowledgement scattered among them.

Dinky, standing next to him near the scrapyard, stepped forward and shouted ‘THE CENTURION ASKED IS THAT UNDERSTOOD YOU MONGRELS, ANSWER!’ An uncoordinated round of ‘Sir yes sir!’ went up, and they tightened formation. The Legionnaire stepped back. ‘Now, you have ten minutes to get your effects in order and to get back here. MOVE!’ Grim roared at them.

Two of them didn’t come back; he didn’t think all of them would. Get rid of the weakest first. Grim and his warband took the remaining gladium to the practice dummies at Diessa Plateau, got them updated weapons that they had carried before, and put them to work for the next few weeks getting retrained. There was always something needing done on the Plateau.

No room for slackers, he tasked them with rebuilding and tearing down walls in The Breached Wall to build up their strength, while at the same time fighting off the dead Ascalonians that kept attacking them. The Grimcrotch warband simply watched and stood guard making sure the gladium didn’t get unruly, occasionally firing a few shots to help ward off a ghost or two.

Diessa Plateau conflict area in ‘The Wall Of Death’

After a month he gave them class appropriate armor, secretly marked in case any of them ran so they could be identified and captured. They seemed to fall back into the military drill quickly, doing what needed to be done without question, and many began to enjoy themselves again for the first time in years feeling healthier, away from the gas clouds of the smelter in Black Citadel.

‘What do you think, Dinky?’ Grimcrotch asked one night, leaning back on his chair in the command tent and swirling sour mash around in a glass held up toward the light from a fire outside, then taking a sip. ‘That is good,’ he said to himself. ‘About what,’ Dinky asked, ‘the whisky or the gladium?’ Grim dropped the chair down and turned to his second in command, ‘The gladium.’

‘They seemed to hold up well enough so far. It’s not easy for even a fully trained and healthy warband to hold off an enemy AND build a wall under fire, properly on top of that, let alone a bunch of unhealthy gladium. Some of them haven’t seen real work in a long time. Didn’t have a clue about brick and mortar, I almost pulled my claws out getting frustrated with them. But you have them here for killing, not building.’

Grim nodded. Dinky sipped his sour mash, ‘You’re right that’s a good batch. You know, we should make our own whisky….’

A runner, winded from the sprint from Bulliyak Arsenal, spoke with a guard through gasps, and was pointed toward Grim’s tent. He entered, still trying to catch his breath. ‘Sir, Remaris Earshot was scouting Incendio Templum when she was attacked and barely made it to Bulliyak Arsenal. She said a major Flame Legion force is assembling and ready to capture the Arsenal and move south and west. We have only a minimal defense sir, don’t think we can hold out long!’

The two stood and downed their drinks, Grimcrotch turned to his second and said ‘Get the warband ready to go, I’ll handle the rif-raff.’ Headed out of the tent already, Dinky replied ‘Got it, boss.’