Brute Force Pt. 2

You don’t make centurion by being nice, or by making friends with command. You are a soldier, a fighter. Like Grimcrotch, Rageclaw led his warband at the front, first to engage the fight. Grim knew that, this other centurion would not be a pushover. But since becoming centurion Rageclaw had become a ‘Citadel Rat’ his men called it, a commander who would rather sit on their rear than fight.

In Grim’s mental zone, quick flashes of fights as a cub to beating the Duke’s ghost, fighting for his now legionnaire Elexus Shredskin, killing Steelbane and getting his warband, fighting with Fyon the Wraith to get him to join, the Fields of Ruin campaign, Diessa Plateau and the trophy room, thousands of other battles and fights in between, pictures of these things happening flew at his mind’s vision…..

Then the flashes began to slowly fade, and a peace came over him while walking out to the middle of the arena. It is a feeling only a charr who has faced down death before will have.

After Rafka spoke to Grim, her friends had told her of a fight in the Bane that would begin soon. Having no idea what was going on, the cub ran there with her friends, always ready to see a good spectacle. Pushing legs aside, the cub pride managed to squeeze up front. ‘Rafka, look who that is!’ one of her friends said, pointing down into the Bane.

Her eyes grew wide; Rafka turned and shoved everyone out of her way as she ran toward tribune Brimstone a quarter of the arena away. After ducking under the railing into the command watch, she asked Brimstone ‘Why is centurion Grimcrotch out there?’ pointing into the pit. ‘Not now, cub. Your elders are busy.’ he said dismissively, watching the fight.

——

Rafka punched him between his legs, dropping him to his knees with an ‘Uugghh…’ and grabbed his collar with both paws. ‘I said, why is centurion Grimcrotch out there?’ she said angrily, shaking him. A soldier stepped up, picked up the kicking and fighting cub and placed her back in the stands.

Frantic, Rafka ran off to the Hero’s Canton and took her axe from the fahrar, then sprinted back to the Bane as close to tribune Brimstone as she could get, with Grim’s warband and his other men nearby watching.

When she arrived in view, she looked down to see Rageclaw’s greatsword coming down on Grimcrotch to get blocked by the crossed axe handles; Grim rolled forward and kicked out Rageclaw’s knee from the side, making him collapse under his own weight. When he stood, Rageclaw turned and threw his greatsword spinning in a horizontal circle, toward Grim.

As the sword turned, the handle came around and pounded Grimcrotch in the side of his head, knocking him down in a daze.

Seeing him get hit, Rafka jumped down into the arena and leaped and threw her axe as hard as she could at Rageclaw. It bounced off his heavy armor. He stepped back and paused ‘What the…’, looking over at the axe then the cub. Rageclaw jogged over to his greatsword, then turned toward Rafka while Grimcrotch slowly stood. ‘What’s this, a bonus?’ he said with an evil grin, and took a few steps toward the cub.

As if they dropped out of the sky, Grim’s warband all leaped into the arena surrounding Rafka by the edge, soldiers in the middle holding the cub back. ‘You’re here to fight Grimcrotch, you son of a dredge. You touch this cub and we all kill you.’ Dinky said, the warband drawing weapons. ‘Let me go! LET ME GO!’ Rafka hollared, fighting and kicking at them.

——

Grimcrotch tapped Rageclaw on the shoulder. Instinctively he swung his greatsword to the left in a spin. Grim ducked avoiding the blade, then punched him in the snout knocking him down, the blade falling a few feet away along with the centurion’s helmet. Grim kicked him in the face then straddled him, bent down and punched him again, breaking two of his fangs.

Upright he drew both axes, swinging down hard on them with a roar; Rageclaw closed his eyes tightly & the blades slammed into the ground on either side of his head, catching his horns and cutting off the tips. ‘I won’t kill you in front of this cub,’ he growled in a low tone for their own ears. The ranger pulled his blades from the ground, stood and glanced at his warband with a wild look.

He stepped over Rageclaw and walked toward Brimstone in the command watch. ‘He lives because you need him, I don’t. Next time he will die.’ He saluted then turned and strode toward the exit; Grim’s warband let go of Rafka, and the cub ran to the centurion leaping up at him, the unexpected move nearly knocking him down with an involuntary ‘Ooof’.

‘Don’t you ever do that again, centurion,’ she said in muffled voice, snout buried in his shoulder choking back tears. ‘No promises, Little Fighter.’ he replied, patting Rafka on her back while carrying her away with the warband.

Brute Force Pt. 1

….’if you have a problem how I run my battalion you better speak up. The only thing the flame legion understands is brute force; you can’t negotiate with them because they won’t talk.’ Grimcrotch fumed, while another centurion, Rageclaw, continued his tirade to tribune Brimstone about Grim’s tactics used in clearing Incendio Templum.

While the other centurion made his point to Brimstone, Grimcrotch motioned Dinky over, whispered something, then the legionnaire ran off.

A few moments later legionnaires Fyon the Wraith with his soldier Wardak, and Dinky walked in to the tribune’s office while Rageclaw spouted off, then turned. ‘What is this, why did you bring this soldier into this meeting? Nothing here concerns him.’ The look on Wardak’s face changed from wonder to anger.

He stepped toward the discussion. ‘Let me tell you something, centurion Rageclaw….’ Rageclaw’s anger boiled over, ‘You will respect my rank soldier, and you will salute and ask for permission to speak!’ Grimcrotch stepped into Rageclaw’s face, snout on snout, fangs backing up his threatening voice, ‘You ever speak to any of my soldiers like that again and I will meet you in the Bane and kill you myself.’ Rageclaw’s eye grew wide, then Grim stepped back.

The tribune quietly snickered. Grim motioned toward the soldier, ‘Now say your piece, Wardak.’

‘My warband was wiped out by these flame legion; we found their tag trophy room with not only my entire warband’s tags but many many others. These charr only understand one thing, brutal force, they enjoy killing us. We have been fighting them for how many years, yet they continue to do what they do because we only respond one way; they attack, we kill a few of them and move on. It’s beyond time to change up our tactics, show them we mean business.’

——

Grimcrotch spoke up, ‘I personally am tired of losing my charr on what should be simple recovery missions. We have to hit them like a hammer!’ The centurion slammed his fist onto Brimstone’s desk looking at Rageclaw. ‘So if you have a problem with my tactics you’re wasting not only my time, but you need to be pointing that anger where it belongs, at the flame legion. I wasn’t made centurion for kissing anyone’s tail end here in the Citadel, I get my job done in the field.’

‘Responding to an attack by beheading flame legion soldiers while they are still alive? That’s torture!’ Rageclaw replied, crossed his arms and scowling. Grim responded ‘How do you know they didn’t do that to our charr before they were killed, eh? We always find broken bones in their caves. Did you find any evidence of anything different? No. You have to be more brutal than them or they won’t learn.’

He turned to Brimstone, ‘I am done arguing my point, tribune. If you don’t like my tactics then fire me, but I will continue doing what I feel is best for all of us.’

Grim turned to the centurion, ‘As far as you Rageclaw, I think you need to be reminded of what we are doing out there instead of brown nosing our command. Take a walk down to the names wall in Memorial Quadrant, explain to those charr standing there who miss their loved ones that died, tell them how you think negotiating with the flame legion will bring an end to our fighting them. You will be chased off.’ Grimcrotch saluted the tribune, who returned it, then walked out with his charr.

As Grimcrotch, Dinky, Fyon the Wraith and Wardak strode down the walkway inside Black Citadel, all the charr along their route began to turn and whisper, point and cheer, soldiers saluting. Apparently the words shared in Brimstone’s office were heard by more that just those involved.

The fun never ends here, Grim thought to himself, as they went toward Hero’s Canton.

——

He just felt like walking. Not fighting, not fishing or napping. His carrion devourer Death, which he had since he was a cub, clicked along next to him as he went from the Citadel to Ashford Plain, tittering in its strange way. Sometimes Grim thought he could recognize certain noises it made, like when he cracked a snail treat. But probably not.

Dinky came running up to him, near the city entrance, out of breath. ‘Boss, Rageclaw is looking for you, said something about the Bane and wanting you there!’ Grim stopped & squinted at something in the distance, and said ‘Alright, I’m on my way.’ The centurion went back to his storage in Hero’s Canton, took off his longbow and replaced it with his two axes. Stepping outside the building, little Rafka Firemane ran up to him. ‘Whatcha doing centurion?’ she asked.

‘I’m doing my job like a good soldier, Little Fighter. Now run along, I will see you later.’ Grim never looked at her, having put his mind in the same zone it was when he killed his first legionnaire, giving him his warband. ‘Ok, see you!’ she smiled and waved running off, while he continued walking out of the Canton toward the Bane.

When he arrived, tribune Brimstone was already there with Rageclaw, and the observer seats were filling fast. ‘Charr, this is the last time I will voice my objection to this,’ Brimstone said. ‘You are both valuable leaders of our soldiers, but I cannot stop you from doing what you feel needs to be done here. You have this last chance to change your minds.’

Grim walked out to the middle of the arena, ‘Let’s go Rageclaw, I have things to do.’ he said dismissively over his shoulder. The other centurion grew even more angry at the apparent brushing-off of a life or death fight. ‘You have spoken to me with disrespect for the last time, Grimcrotch.’ Rageclaw said while pulling his greatsword, the two facing each other.

The ranger pulled his two axes, and they began stepping around in a circle in the middle of the arena, the crowd cheering for blood….

Firewalker

Grimcrotch sat with the legionnaires Dinky, Shredskin, Wrathclaw and Fyon the Wraith in the canteen of Hero’s Canton, discussing the recently finished Incendio Templum battle.

The whisky flowed that night; with Fyon making it to the commander ranks there was reason to forget the bloodshed and celebrate. Even Tribune Brimstone stopped in to make an appearance, congratulating the newest Blood Legion legionnaire. Between the laughter, back slapping and story telling, a soldier jogged in to speak with Dinky, who then stepped over to his centurion and spoke for a moment.

Grim turned and walked out the front door of the canteen, where little Rafka Firemane was practicing throwing her axe under the artificial light, Rathgaar Firemane watching from a distance. The centurion sipped his drink quietly leaning on the doorway, and glanced between the two.

The elemental strode to the cub a few feet away and stood silent. As quickly as he opened his mouth to say something Rafka pounced on it, growling ‘I don’t need any help from you, charr.’ Rathgaar’s mouth hung open as he gathered his thoughts again. The cub had disarmed him mentally, he had forgotten what he was going to say. ‘Hey now cub, I….’

As the charr was speaking Rafka pulled her axe from a practice dummy, stepped over and punched the elemental between the legs, forcing him to his knees then rolling over onto his side, curled up in pain groaning. ‘What the heck was that for?’ he managed to get out between shots of pain. Several soldiers walking by pointed and laughed. Rathgaar flicked two claws toward them, the hair on the back of the laughing soldier’s heads burst into flame.

They didn’t notice until they walked away.

Slowly and painfully he rose but couldn’t stand fully upright yet. ‘I was just going to tell you I am impressed. You handle your weapon very well, uugh……’ Rafka walked back to her start position, ‘I don’t need anything from you charr, push on.’ The cub made her stance, leaped and threw the axe again, walked toward the practice dummy and removed it, then walked back continuing her practice.

Rathgaar Firemane among the legends of Memorial Quadrant, Black Citadel

Rafka Firemane was Rathgaar Firemane’s cub. When Grimpaw Grindgear had found Rathgaar out on Ashford Plain the day before he was invited to join their warband, Grimpaw mentioned to Dinky that he was a Firemane. Having the same surname as the cub Grimcrotch had taken under his wing, Dinky didn’t say anything to the engineer, but went to the centurion and told him what he knew.

Grimcrotch hadn’t told Rathgaar about anything; he had planned this ‘meeting’ between father and daughter for when they had returned from Diessa Plateau, as most of all the warbands involved were taking a break, and charr drink when on break. He just wanted to get an idea of how things might go between sire and cub. So far not very well, it seemed.

‘You’re doing very well, Little Fighter. Coming along very nicely in your weapon training, I am proud of you.’ Grim said as the cub walked up next to him and sat down with a scowl. Rathgaar saluted as best he could to the centurion, then turned to walk away limping. ‘Do you know that soldier?’ he asked the cub, casually pointing in the elemental’s direction.

‘He is my sire.’ The cub replied crossing her arms, as if her saying was a disgusting chore. ‘Oh? Let’s go over here away from the door and talk,’ he said, motioning Rafka toward the end of the railing in front of the canteen out of earshot. ‘I take it you two don’t get along,’ the centurion said.

‘That was the first time I ever spoke with him. The cubs in the fahrar pointed him out a long time ago, I just always avoided him. Until now. He is the past, you helped me to focus more on things happening now, rather than dwelling on things you can’t change. He abandoned me to the fahrar; I have no sire I want to claim.’

‘Little Fighter’ Rafka Firemane, cub of Rathgaar Firemane

‘I understand, little one. I never knew my sire, but from what I understand he was a shaman at one point, then ended up a gladium, after a while he just disappeared and no one knew what happened to him. I could see him face to face today and not know if it was him. But I am my own charr, I have shed any semblance to that gladium. And in doing so I have become the centurion standing next to you now. I’d say that’s a better life without knowing him.’

‘I wish I could not meet my sire, just seeing him come speak with me made me so angry…..’ she turned and crossed her arms, the cub’s scowl grew deeper. Grim crouched next to the cub, placed his paw on her shoulder looking at her, and said ‘Hey now. I never saw mine, but he seems friendly enough and doesn’t even know he is your sire, maybe there is a reason he did what has been done. Mine is gone, but you have a chance to find out what kind of sire he will be if he knows you’re his cub.’

‘He could still be worth something. After all, you know I’m not going to let anyone in MY warband that isn’t worth a damn. When you are old enough you will be in it, just as he is right now. Maybe these two charr that are worth a damn in my warband can get together and make themselves worth a damn to each other. Or something. I think this whisky is catching up to me.’ Grimcrotch swirled the liquid around in his glass, then finished it.

The centurion stood and patted Rafka on the shoulder; the cub’s scowl had disappeared but she was clearly still going over events in her head. ‘Maybe you’re right, centurion. I’ll think about it, thank you.’ The two turned and began walking toward the canteen door.

Suddenly a hail of objects came flying at them out the doorway as someone yelled ‘FOOD FIGHT!!’; Grimcrotch turned his back to them and crouched in front of Rafka instinctively protecting her, the back of his armor getting pelted with fruit and cake, or whatever else they could find to throw.

‘Uh, you should probably go back to the fahrar Little Fighter, its late.’ Grim said standing, as he smeared frosting trying to remove it from his fur. The cub smiled, ‘Old charr have all the fun. BYE CENTURION!’ Rafka hollared as she ran off. The centurion turned to enter the canteen, bellowing ‘WHERE ARE THE CAKE GRENADES, BY LIGHT!’ with an evil grin. The room erupted in laughter.

Yes, sometimes us old charr can be fun.