Dinky’s Heroes Pt. 1

Inspired by the movie Kelly’s Heroes

The shabby disguises couldn’t last long. Walking along at a good clip right in front of them, these guys are really stupid, he thought. Darkness helped, but any flame legion coming close would notice them right away. And this enemy shaman they captured, with a pistol in his back, could hollar or try to run, depending on how loyal he was. Either way he would die, and Dinky was counting on him not wanting that.

Mere feet away, flame legion ran back and forth trying to stay organized, grabbing supplies and hoping to get moving out before the combined iron and blood legion forces came close enough to overwhelm them. There was already heavy mortar fire raining down nearby. A large camp, but it seemed the bigger the flame legion force, the more disorganized they were.

Torches lit the area not very well; as a flame legion soldier walked past Dinky and his two soldiers, one holding a gun to the shaman standing stiff as a board not even looking around, the enemy glanced, then turned and saw through the legionnaire’s disguise. ‘HEY!’ he yelled and pointed at them. Dinky and the soldier with the pistol each grabbed the shaman by a shoulder and the four ran off into the dark, ducking out of gunshots with bullets plinking off his shield, toward cover in the darkness and safety nearly a half mile away to their forward line.

Centurion Grimcrotch had ordered the wireless radio Poppler Swizzlestix and Grimpaw Grindgear made for their aborted rocket flight, to be made for each warband in his battalion. Most times communication was shakey at best, non-existent in others, but it kept them from risking valuable soldiers lives running information across the battlefield for the most part.

‘Stop dropping your mortars on our position!’ The soldier yelled into the microphone angrily to the forces in the rear, ducking at the sound of a shell exploding nearby. ‘You can’t hear me?! The reason you can’t hear me is because you’re firing the mortars on YOUR end, and they’re dropping here, on MY end. Flame legion isn’t here, WE’RE here!’ He threw down the microphone and turned at Dinky, the two soldiers and the flame legion shaman entering.

Fireheart Rise south and Blood Legion Homelands north-east

In the barn, Dinky stopped in the light when they entered to read a scroll he took from the flame legion shaman, eyes growing wide. ‘We have our necks stuck out here, sir. We’ve had alot of probing going on, it might be a good idea to regroup before flame legion gets brave and tries something stupid. They might just get away with it having few soldiers here with us at the moment,’ legionnaire Fyon the Wraith said to the his boss. ‘As much as I like a good fight, an outnumbered death doesn’t sound very appealing.’

‘Alright get everyone out of here, I’m going to stick around a while with my new friend,’ he said, motioning to the captured shaman. ‘Tell Grindgear to hang about, I may need him in a bit.’ Fyon saluted and ran off to relay the info. The Wraith, Grim and iron legion warbands left, Dinky stayed behind pushing the shaman into a chair.

‘We’re going to have a little talk, shaman,’ he said, pouring sour mash into a tin cup and handing it to him, ‘drink up.’ The enemy turned away, saying ‘I don’t drink.’ Dinky stood and drew his sword, slamming the blade tip into the ground next to him, then sat back down and leaned into his face snout on snout, baring his fangs. ‘I said drink.’ Realizing he had no choice, the shaman forced it down and burst into a coughing fit, nearly choking.

Two hours later Grimpaw Grindgear and his asura friend Poppler Swizzlestix were the only things between near constant flame legion probe teams and Dinky, with his now smashed flame legion shaman commander, so they decided to make a break for it and get back to the warband south. Dinky and Grimpaw each took a side and began to carry the drunk out.

A few yards away from the barn, despite the engineer turret packs dropped behind them for defense, the buzz of arrows and bullets whizzing by grew thicker; a bullet pierced the drunk shaman’s head, then an arrow speared his back. They dropped the now dead soldier and trotted off, Dinky having taken the scroll case off his belt before he began interrogation.

Newly promoted Primus Centurion Grimcrotch, preparing his armor to move out

Imperator Bangar Ruinbringer had ordered centurion Grimcrotch to the blood legion citadel north of the Blazeridge Mountains, upon his return from the Durmand Priory with Rafka Firemane. During his trip there the flame legion, angry at the centurion’s infiltration with only one other soldier and killing over fifty of their number along with one of their high commanders, launched a massive attack on the allied legions posts in Fireheart Rise. It was a mess, and tribune Brimstone was livid at not having his right paw charr available.

Things were getting done on the front, that was not a problem, the leadership of Grimcrotch showed in his subordinates with his absence. But there was not as much of an effective offense as the tribune would like without the centurion. And having to work with iron and ash legions made things kind of unorganized; crossed orders, miscommunication and just plain infighting held back the potential, and a swift hammerstrike is what he preferred.

Upon his arrival at the blood legion citadel, the imperator welcomed the centurion and told him to have a seat. ‘First things first, centurion. I want ten cases of your sour mash delivered to me here. I can’t keep traveling so far south just to enjoy a good drink, hehe…’ He chuckled. Grim grinned, ‘I’ll be sure to get on that as soon as I return, sir.’ Ruinbringer then waved the centurion to his feet.

‘Second, I’m ordering you to take the promotion to Primus Centurion you turned down at our last meeting, refusal is not an option this time.’ The imperator stepped toward Grim, focusing on his eyes. ‘Something looks different about you, primus…’ he said seeing the slight green flames in his pupils, then waved it off. Grim saluted smartly and replied simply, ‘Thank you, sir. I’ll try to live up to your expectations.’

Ruinbringer then updated the new primus centurion on the goings-on in Fireheart Rise since his departure from Black Citadel. The imperator brought out his maps and discussed the current situation, then they went over offensive possibilities, the primus assuring the imperator his subordinates would do fine, but that he would need to leave soon to join them, and Ruinbringer agreed. Things were heating up again, just how Grim liked it.

Wayfaring Mercenaries

‘No, put that one over here,’ the cub pointed to a small pile of sand with several sticks poking up around it, speaking to Grim, ‘he has to defend.’ The centurion made an ‘Ah, I see’ look, then strategically placed the stick figure where he thought it might defend the pile of sand best.

Still building the toy fort defenses, the cub spoke while digging a trench around the walls. ‘I thought old soldiers don’t play any more.’ Grim sat back and looked over the dirt and stick fort the cub made, then turned to see in the distance some guards attacking an Ascalon rebel. ‘Let’s just say the charr definition of ‘play’ changes when you get older.’

Several more cubs came to the play fort after seeing Grim sitting and speaking with the little one. Most went to the fort and began making stick figure soldiers, or poking sticks into the ground to make walls. One came over to Grim and simply stood, looking at him; Grim stared back. The cub spoke up, ‘What happened to your eyes?’

After glancing and doing double takes looking at the soldier, a few of the cubs came over by Grim and also stared at his eyes…there was a slight green flame inside his pupils. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Build your fort.’ They slowly turned away while still staring, until one tripped as he walked. That broke the tension and they all laughed, making fun of the clumsy cub.

Grim near False River Valley, Lornar’s Pass

The last few months were strange. Memories of his simba flooded back again and again, both the good times with her, and bad with his sire. A few days after he walked away from the godforged hellscream corpse and his simba’s image, he finally spoke and thanked Rafka Firemane for staying with him in the cave they went to in south Fireheart Rise, but ordered her to go back to the warband.

‘I’m sorry, sir, but I will have to refuse this order. I don’t understand exactly what happened to you back there, but you are my commander, I will defend you with my life. Do what you must.’ She drew herself up to her still rather small but solid height, defiant chin held high. Grim put his paws on hips, staring deep into her rebellious eyes, then sighed, shaking his head.

‘Alright, you can stay.’ The next two months the centurion took her on an exploratory mission to all of known Tyria he had been to, excepting a few western territories like Orr, both discussing and trying to understand what happened in Fireheart Rise, Grimcrotch telling Rafka stories of his life as a cub. If his future assistant was to be that, she would need an education.

For the first six weeks they stayed at the Durmand Priory, Grim ordering her to read all she could on record of charr history and the ancients. She could always come back for more later, the amount of information stored there was immense, but he wanted her to have a good general background of their world now.

Meantime he searched the records for anything even remotely similar to what happened to him in Fireheart Rise. Daylight hours found a huge table covered with books, ledgers and scattered papers & scrolls. On nights when the priories weren’t bringing him several candles at a time when those he had were burned away, he was out searching the old dwarf caves for…he didn’t even know what he searched for.

He let Rafka sleep nights that he roamed the snowy caves, she needed to be in top shape mentally every day to learn and retain the information she took in. She was a very bright cub, but still naive. He reminded himself she was to train more with legionnaire Elexus Shredskin when they returned.

Rafka Firemane in a big, new snowy world, Lornar’s Pass

Arriving back in Ashford Plain from Iron Marches when Rafka’s map surveying was complete, it was a lackluster entrance….until they neared Champion’s Rise and the centurion’s pet Death came sprinting up to him and deliberately bumped into him several times, as if angry he was gone so long. ‘Now what in the world are you doing out here, boy? You’re supposed to be in your pen, hehe. Come here, I missed you, too.’

He reached down and gave a friendly scratch to the soft underbelly of his life long pet, then they continued their walk toward the Citadel, until seeing several flame legion trotting toward them. Grim stopped and held his arm out stopping her, and motioned Rafka to look. ‘One, two, three…’ he said. On three, they both turned and fired, he with his axes, she with her pistols. After everything they had endured the last few months, Rafka didn’t bat an eye at the local riff-raff, a very good sign, Grim thought.

They ran into Dinky and Elexus a bit further on, spoke for a moment, then he ordered them back to work while the centurion and thief continued toward the end of their journey.

‘Thank you, sir.’ She said, as they entered the doorway of the Citadel, the guard saluting smartly and saying ‘Welcome back, sir!’ Grim casually returned it, then replied to Rafka, ‘For what, soldier?’ She got quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then said ‘For showing me I have so much to learn. Staying here near the Citadel and not experiencing the world would have been so boring. Uh, no offense, sir.’

He chuckled. ‘Take your time, absorb it slowly so you remember it. A good warrior has a balance of knowledge and skills. You have both, but also need more of both, that’s why I’m assigning you to train more with legionnaire Shredskin. There is no better pistolier in all of Tyria.’ She stopped and turned to him, ‘Then why did you take me to Fireheart Rise with you, and not her? Uh, sir…’

He waved off the casual reference, ‘I already have confidence in you 100%, I wanted to see you under pressure. She has done a great job in your training up to now, you simply need to hone those skills. Now, go get some sleep in your own bunk, take a few days off. I’ll let you know when it’s time to rejoin us.’ He snapped a smart salute to his warband member. She returned it, replying ‘Yes sir!’, and trotted off toward the Canton, while he headed to Rytlock Brimstone’s office and the inevitable grilling coming for being gone so long…

Meet The New Boss…

In the back of Hero’s Canton, where Tribune Brimstone had ordered Grim’s secure room for weapons be built, he also ordered a pen for his ranger pets to be added. There was no lack of cubs volunteering to care for the centurion’s animals. In fact things kind of got out of hand; huge groups of cubs running around for food, water, taking pets for exercise etc..

But when they started having races in mid Canton, Grim had to put a stop to it. So in order to make it fair for all, every day a small group could volunteer. On this particular day a cub noticed something strange about how the centurion’s pet Death was acting; it kept digging out and running to the entrance of Black Citadel, weaving back & forth and chirping as they do, no matter how many times he took it back to the pen.

‘The damndest thing, eh?’ legionnaire Fyon the Wraith replied scratching his head, when the cub finally said something after chasing the centurion’s prized devourer around all day. ‘Tell you what, cub. Go find legionnaire Dinky, I’ll bet he can help you with this one.’ The cub ran into the canton, found then told him what was going on, so Dinky and legionnaire Shredskin went to have a look.

It was growing dark. They checked the pen first but it was gone, so they took a walk toward the Citadel entrance. A torch burned in its holder on the wall next to the opening facing the dead duke’s tomb, Death in the doorway right outside, weaving back and forth. ‘Every time the cub takes him back to the pen, it comes running back out, sir,’ the guard told Dinky, shaking his head. ‘I’ve been on duty seven hours, was doing that when I got here.’

Dinky nodded as they walked out next to the animal, looking first down at it, then up along the viewable horizon, sniffing the air twice. ‘Hmm,’ he said quietly to himself. He had a fair idea what was going on but wasn’t positive. He turned to Shredskin, ‘Get two barrels of my whiskey, some firewood to last ’til dawn and a ton of meat. We’re parking it out here tonight.’ She saluted and ran off to round up the 12th.

Since Grim and Rafka faded into the night after killing the godforged hellscream in Fireheart Rise, no one had seen them for months. No one believed they were dead, but it certainly was mysterious, Dinky thought. Something happened out there only those two saw…

After a while the 12th battalion, camped outside the fortress wall, had tents set up and supplies for the night. Grimpaw Grindgear and Poppler Swizzlestix the asura, were showing a few other engineers the inner workings of their particle beam handcannon, a few grunts fought barepaw, others cleaned and sharpened weapons, many sat around fires and told stories, laughing eating and generally getting loaded.

Several hours later, the legionnaires were sitting around a campfire discussing why they were out there. ‘The centurion’s pet Death,’ he thumbed behind him, ‘keeps escaping from its pen and coming out here. I have a feeling it knows more than we do about what’s going on with Grim.’ Dinky scowled staring into the fire. The centurion’s pet was near the doorway, weaving back & forth and tittering, facing off into the darkness.

——

‘And it senses something. What, I don’t know, so I thought I’d bring the 12th out here tonight on the off chance he comes back, this way.’ He pointed off into the dark distance. The other legionnaires nodded, then turned toward Death, curiously watching the animal.

At dawn, with no Grim & Rafka, they went back to work for the day after packing up the camp. A cub was assigned to keep an eye on the devourer and feed it. The next four days were the same. Early evening on the fifth day, Death stopped weaving by the doorway, held his antennae up to the air turning them as if smelling or sensing something, then the cub watched it take off down the trail toward the dead Duke’s grave and beyond.

The little one ran back to the Canton to inform Dinky, and again he and Shredskin walked out the same doorway, stopped for a moment as he scanned the horizon, and sniffed twice. ‘Come.’ he said to Elexus, and they walked down the worn path, past the tomb. Passing Temperus Point fort, Dinky shaded his eyes and scanned the darkening horizon again.

In the distance near Charr’s Triumph, he saw what looked like two shadowy figures slowly coming closer, then they stopped. When they did, Shredskin tapped Dinky on the bicep and said ‘Uh Dinky…’, and pointed off to their right. Five flame legion were moving in on the figures. One of them held out their arm to stop the other. Suddenly the two shadows turned, one throwing two axes, the other unloading two pistols, all aimed at the five flame legion.

Grim in Hero’s Canton upon his return

They dropped. One shadow that threw the weapons went to retrieve them, then they turned back toward the trail with what looked like the escaped devourer Death running in circles around them and tittering loudly. Dinky and Shredskin began to walk toward them, meeting them in the middle of the field. ‘Grim?’ Dinky said, still not sure.

‘Who do you think it is, the Duke?’ the centurion said smartly. Pulling off his Whispers mask, the green glow in his eyes was gone, but something was still different about them. ‘What are you two doing out here?’ Grimcrotch asked. ‘Looking for you. Death has been coming outside the city for days now, I think he knew you were coming back.’ Grim bent down to pat his pet on the shell, ‘You knew I was coming, eh boy?’ He reached over to pick up a snail crawling on the ground, cracked the shell and gave his pet the treat.

‘Do you have your flask on you, Dinky? the centurion asked. ‘Now what kind of question is that?’ he replied, reaching into his armor and tossing the container to his superior. Grim uncorked it and killed the full bottle, exhaling loudly and handing it back. ‘I needed that, you’ve earned your keep for a month. Now get back to work.’ As he said it the pupils of his eyes flared tiny green flames. Dinky and Shredskin both saluted smartly and replied in unison, ‘Yes sir!’ with huge grins, then turned and trotted off back to the city.

‘Meet the new boss…’ Dinky said to Elexus, running along and looking at her still smiling.

‘Same as the old boss,’ she replied, with an equally big grin.