Tough Enough

Rafka and Clawspur walked down from the Black Citadel to Hero’s Canton, talking between themselves, wondering why they were summoned by legionnaire Dinky to the canteen. The previous night they had helped their commander and centurion out of a jam, and were prepared to go back to the local grind of proving themselves worthy to join the Grim warband as full members.

After clearing the camp that had attacked their two leaders and walking back to help the centurion, he was leaning on a tree watching them. It didn’t look like he needed any help, because he didn’t. ‘Let’s get back to the Citadel you two. Great job,’ he told them as they walked up, patting first Rafka then Clawspur on their backs with his left paw.

‘HEY HEY! HERE THEY COME!’ legionnaire Fyon the Wraith spoke up above the din in the busy canteen. The whole room erupted in cheers and congratulations, thanks, heavy pawed pats on their backs. They stopped and looked around in wonder with half smiles, then at each other and shrugged, turning back toward the table where the centurion and his legionnaires sat.

Rathgaar Firemane sitting next to Dinky with an enormous grin, stood and waved his cub and her friend over to him, squeezing her in a bear hug. ‘I’m very proud of you, Rafka,’ he whispered into her ear. Letting go, he turned to Clawspur, paws on hips. ‘Well you’re not getting a hug, soldier, but great job to you as well, heh,’ he said, still with the huge grin, shaking his paw and slapping the thief on his bicep.

The room erupted in laughter at the elemental’s remark. ‘Alright, alright, everyone quiet down.’ Rathgaar motioned for them to sit, then turned to look at Dinky and nodded toward the room. The legionnaire stood and faced the two thieves, ‘So what did you think when I told you “Welcome to the Bloody Twelfth” back there, huh? Did you expect cake and juice, soldiers?’

Rafka and Clawspur in the Hero’s Canton canteen

The room broke out in laughter again. ‘This is how it works, Rafka and Clawspur. There is no official ceremony. When a legionnaire tells you what I did that is it, you’re officially in the warband. The only other thing to do is for the centurion himself to confirm what I have already told you. In most cases he doesn’t require his confirmation because he trusts his legionnaires. Why, I don’t know.’

Again the canteen burst out in laughter. ‘But,’ he said, holding up a paw, ‘in the case of you two he personally wanted to be the one to approve your acceptance.’ Rafka and Clawspur turned to look at each other with the widest smiles they had ever made, Clawspur backhanded a slap to his friend’s shoulder. Rafka spoke up, ‘But didn’t you already…’

‘While you were fighting the flame legion out there,’ the centurion interrupted, ‘the legionnaire and I watched. We could have helped, but you volunteered. In my warband and battalion, when you say you will do something I expect it to be done, no exceptions. I do not tolerate weakness or incompetence. You two proved you are neither of those in the middle of that firefight.’

‘I told him to get you into the warband while you were still fighting. Because with the exception of legionnaire Shredskin, I have never seen any charr handle both daggers and pistols so adeptly in mid-battle before.’ He stood and smiled, then stepped forward.

‘So if this is what you wanted, welcome to the Grim warband and the Twelfth Battalion, soldiers.’ He saluted the two smartly, and received one in kind from the two newest members. The canteen blew up into cheering and congratulations again for the young soldiers who put their lives on the line to save their legionnaire and centurion.

——

A few hours later when the battalion members who were present were well into their cups, the centurion motioned for Rafka to follow him out the door. He leaned on the rail outside near the target practice area, where she got her start under his supervision what seemed to her so long ago. She stepped up and placed her paws on the railing.

‘You have come a long way in a short time, Rafka. You’re no longer the little cub I was telling stories to in the fahrar, I am proud of you like your sire.’ He sipped his sour mash and watched the business of the Canton going to-and-fro. ‘Can I ask you something, centurion?’ she asked. He nodded, ‘Anything, soldier.’

‘Why did you go out of your way to not let me see you kill anyone?’ Grim looked down at the ground, then turned toward Rafka, ‘Because while you were still a young cub I wanted you to play, have fun, be a cub, not be exposed to the ruthless world this can be so soon. I wasn’t given the chance to grow as a cub should with games and playing, being young.’ He turned to look back out at the Canton.

‘Can I ask why?’ she replied. His eyes hardened; he stood and turned toward his protege, staring her straight in the eye, ‘Because my sire and simba were killed in the middle of the night by the flame legion, when I was several years younger than you were when you began weapon training with me. My sire was always gone, and when he was around he was always drunk. I never knew him.’

——

‘What I remember of my simba, she always protected me and hid me away when he came around drunk. She was a very caring charr, stuck in an unfortunate circumstance with him.’ He drew himself up to his full height as he looked beyond Rafka for a moment, then back down at her.

‘Every time I fight, I’m not only taking my rage out on the flame legion that killed my simba, but I’m killing my worthless sire who treated my simba and I so badly.’ He stopped and drained his glass. ‘Any other questions, soldier?’ he said with steeled gaze and raised eyebrow.

‘I guess not, sir,’ she replied, sad for her centurion and friend. ‘Alright, let’s get in there and finish having fun. This doesn’t happen very often any more, you have to enjoy it when you can. Alright?’ She looked up at him, ‘Yes sir.’

‘Hey…..I said alright? Get that frown off your face little fighter, you just gained a family one hundredfold, and we’re all happy for you.’ She smiled at the mention of his old nickname for her and said again, ‘Alright, sir’. He put his arm around her and walked back into the canteen full of celebrating soldiers, who all cheered when they saw them enter.

Young Guns

After many of the battles fought with flame legion around Ascalon since legionnaire Grimcrotch became centurion, it seemed most wanted to take a break and regroup. This Blood Legion commander was frightening, they had never dealt with such a ruthless and fearless foe since the three legions broke out and forced their surrender. Too many of their number had perished at his hand.

The weeks since the centurion had begun to train Rafka Firemane in weapons turned into months, then a year; he had been busy with other tasks, and knowing Rathgaar Firemane, her sire, had been training her this whole time was better, he felt, for both of them. The two had become a typical sire and cub, the animosity on Rafka’s part having disappeared.

Rafka also expanded her training to pistols, and was quickly becoming known as a crack shot, especially while unloading on targets mid-dive. She simply did not miss. And while the cub began to take on small jobs around the citadel that involved killing the ghosts and smaller pockets of flame legion that refused to give ground, she had begun to grow in size rather quickly as well.

A friend she had found in the fahrar, Clawspur, a thief, had begun to show her the ropes involving pistols. But his training was soon expanded by her adding her own touch to what she had already learned with diving/rolling attacks.

‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen her miss a target. I was nearly a fully trained thief when we began, and she has surpassed me already. I wouldn’t fight her,’ Clawspur told her sire. Rathgaar grew more proud of his not-so-little-anymore cub every day.

——

Grimcrotch crawled slowly along the ground below the small rise, his second Dinky behind him. ‘Ok, which ones are they?’ he whispered, as quietly as a charr with a deep raspy voice can, focusing his eyepiece on several flame legion shaman near the cave entrance. Dinky slid up next to him and whispered back, looking in the enemy direction, ‘Hell, all of them if you can.’

Grim stopped focusing his eyepiece and turned to his friend with an ‘Are you kidding me?’ look, then flipped it up and looked around. They were surrounded by 40-ish flame legion between 25-30 feet away on all sides, with only a small outlet behind them to get into, and out of, where they were. Thankfully the fires lit by the enemy kept them blind to much else beyond the light they gave off.

‘Shh.’ Grim held a claw to his mouth and turned to look behind them, with Dinky turning to look as well, ‘What…’ Grim held the claw to his mouth again with no noise, then motioned that someone was walking behind them, beyond the flame legion and fires, in the same area as where they came into the enemy camp. He cocked his ears and sharply gazed back into the darkness…

Turning back to the task at hand, Grim flipped his eyepiece back down and focused on one of the flame legion shaman at the edge of the group near the cave, nearly sixty yards away. The enemy turned and stepped away from the group; the centurion slid his bow flat to the ground slightly over the edge of the rise and loaded an arrow, then turned back to watch his target.

The shaman went to a stack of crates at the side of a tent nearby and reached in; the arrow silently shot away, going straight through the side of his head. He dropped off behind the crates, quiet. Dinky patted him on the back. Grim loaded another arrow, then focused on another target, again on the side of the group of shaman near the cave entrance.

——

The centurion’s target looked over and saw something on the ground near the tent where the first shaman dropped and went to investigate. He bent down for a pulse on the dead shaman, then turned. Just as he was about to give a shout alerting the flame legion of their dead comrade, a silent arrow entered his mouth and stuck in his head, dropping him on top of his dead friend.

Grim exhaled, then drew breath again and focused on another target near the cave. Dinky shook his head in disbelief that his friend could do this, and patted him on the back again. A third shaman from the group spoke up to his friends, wondering where one of them was, and started to step to the nearby tent with crates then stopped and turned still within their view…

As he attempted to speak an arrow flew through his temple, eyeballs bouncing out onto his face as he fell over. ‘We’re being attacked!! Rally up fla…’ Another shaman began, as an arrow went straight through his face, dropping him back with his men standing and turning to see their commander die.

The entire camp came to life, weapons drawn, confusion in the dark, shouts to everyone to find the sniper. Dinky whispered to his boss ‘Think we’ve been noticed.’ Grim pulled his bow back from the rise and whispered back, ‘Let’s get out of here.’ The two began to crawl back out the way they entered the camp. Near the point where they could almost stand and run, gunfire went off with bullets and arrows pelting the ground and trees around them.

The two blood legion soldiers stood and began to run when Grim was shot in the back on the right shoulder, making him drop his bow and fall to a knee. ‘Aaah! Dammit!’ he grunted. Dinky moved behind his commander and picked up the bow and lifted his centurion with bullets and arrows plinking off his shield. ‘Whether you can or not, boss, we have to run!’

Rafka Firemane, newest member of the [XII] Twelfth Blood Legion Battalion, Grim Warband

Out of the darkness next to them a familiar female voice spoke up, ‘Get behind those trees and stay down, centurion!’ Grimcrotch turned to the voice and saw Rafka Firemane with her fellow thief friend Clawspur, bullets and arrows ricocheting off the little cover trees brought. ‘NOW, SIR!!’ Grim heeded her warning and moved with Dinky, plopping down against a tree while his second helped remove his armor and dig out the bullet.

The two thieves each darted to a flank of the flame legion camp, unloading dual pistols, one bullet to the head of every enemy soldier standing taking out half of their number in one pass. Several of the flame legion gunners took out captured charrzookas to light up the edge of the camp. After reloading, Rafka had two of them aim directly at her, and as she dove away she put shots straight into the barrels of both cannons, making them explode both weapons and torsos of the soldiers carrying them.

Clawspur on the other side did nearly as well. But while reloading he dropped a clip, forcing him to dive to avoid several shots while pulling daggers from his belt and targeting the soldier’s heads. Down to the last twelve flame legion soldiers who had backed toward the cave, not including the remaining shaman, Clawspur leaped at them, jamming one dagger into the base of one neck then turned to do the same to another, pulling more blades from his belt and repeating it on several more, Rafka exploding heads with her crack shooting, down to only the shaman remaining.

‘STOP!!’ a voice shouted from the trees they came from, Dinky walking out toward them. The two held weapons on the three remaining flame legion commanders. ‘The centurion didn’t want you as a cub to see how he gained his reputation, Rafka. He didn’t want you to see him kill anyone this way, but you’re a big cub- er, soldier, now. Flame legion will only learn if you are more ruthless than they are. Watch and learn.’

‘Get on your knees. ALL THREE OF YOU,’ he ordered the remaining shaman. They complied. Dinky took off his shield and dropped it to the ground, pulled his sword, then with a roar split each shaman in half from skull to crotch, blood squirting and innards oozing everywhere. Rafka and Clawspur covered in blood, both got an unbelieving look, wide eyed, looking at what was living beings seconds ago, then at Dinky himself covered in blood. ‘Welcome to the Bloody Twelfth, you two. Now get over there and help your centurion walk back to the Citadel.’

Heart of the Beast Pt. 3

‘Put him over there and untie him.‘ The centurion pointed to a spot on the floor next to a brick wall in the Black Citadel stockade. Dinky carried Poppler over to the wall and set him down, untied him, then turned toward his boss. ‘Now unchain him and give him his armor back,’ Grimcrotch said, nodding toward Grimpaw. ‘But boss, I…’ Dinky began. ‘DO IT.’

The legionnaire stared at the centurion for a few seconds, then turned toward the jailer’s desk to get the key for the chain locks. With a grunt Grimpaw slowly began to move his arms and legs around a bit while Dinky dropped the chains, grabbed the prisoner’s armor and tossed it down, then turned back toward Grimcrotch, paws on hips, staring daggers at his commander.

The charr engineer bent over to pick up his gear, watching the situation unfold with his superiors.

‘Legionnaire Dinky, Poppler, and Grimpaw stay, the rest of you get out.’ Still returning the gaze to his 2nd, Grimcrotch waited for the door to close. ‘I’ll get back to you in a moment, soldier. You better put an end to that anger before I beat it out of you.’ You could physically see the rage in Dinky; somehow he kept it under control.

Grimcrotch stepped over to the desk and sat on the edge & leaned back; ‘What are we gonna do with you two…?’ he said, looking first at Poppler then to his engineer. ‘You both pulled weapons on me, threatened three legionnaires and several soldiers…. Nevermind,’ he said, holding up his paw as Poppler began to speak, ‘I already know. Now you two listen up.’

The centurion inspecting the Black Citadel stockade

‘First of all, Poppler, this has nothing to do with any friendship with Grimpaw. You pointed both pistols directly at me and dropped three turrets, threatening not only me but the rest of the soldiers and two legionnaires on that cliff with them. I know what you were doing, I have to consider the fact that you were helping my soldier, not your friend.’

Grimcrotch walked over to Poppler and picked him up off the floor by his shoulders, then stuffed his snout into the asura’s face, ‘I didn’t authorize anyone to touch you while you were locked up here for three weeks, I didn’t know you were getting beaten. But consider yourself lucky what happened is all you got out of this. You should be dead, you little bastard,’ fangs bared slightly.

The centurion dropped Poppler down, turned and gazed toward his engineer, paws on hips. ‘You,’ slowly stepping forward, ‘are a different story. You attacked your legionnaire twice, drew your rifle on me, then attempted to pull a pistol on me, Grimpaw. The fact that you were nearly killed in a mission for Blood Legion has absolutely no bearing on this, you are a soldier, that’s what you do.’

‘Your friend here interfered with an official operation, every day is a gift to him now, courtesy of the 12th. But striking your legionnaire twice and drawing a weapon on a centurion….you know you should be drawn and quartered.’ Grimcrotch walked back to the desk and leaned back sitting on the edge, quietly looking at Grimpaw. ‘We’ll work out some kind of punishment.’

——

‘WHAAT?!’ Dinky bellowed angrily. Stomping over into his friend’s face, he bounced his snout off the centurion’s, growling ‘If you think you’re letting him off the hook for all this you have another thing coming, by Light! I want a piece of him myself!’ Grimcrotch drew himself up to his full massive height, glared down at his 2nd and roared, ‘YOU GOT SOMETHING TO SAY TO ME LIKE THAT SOLDIER YOU BETTER HAVE A WEAPON DRAWN!!’

The centurion threw a glare laced with fire at Poppler and Grimpaw & growled, ‘Now get out before I change my mind.’ The two engineers ran out the door toward Grimpaw’s shack, the sound of centurion and legionnaire in full blown brawl behind them fading. Dinky pulled his sword and reached for his shield, but Grimcrotch punched him in the snout, knocking him back into the cell bars.

Legionnaires Shredskin, Wrathclaw and Fyon the Wraith  stepped into the holding cells to see what the commotion was after the engineers ran, only to quickly turn and exit, grinning broadly. Grimcrotch was knocked out the door behind them into the hallway; as he stood they noticed both fighting charr had dropped their weapons in the holding cell and were duking it out.

When the streetfighting cats had rolled out into the main doorway of the Citadel, hissing, clawing, fist pounding blurred into a ball of fur, a crowd began to gather. Shredskin and Fyon the Wraith ran into the Citadel and grabbed two chairs, pulled out some snacks from their kits and had a seat, getting into it.

Poppler at home, Rata Sum

The crowd began to cheer them on; a soldier stepped to the front of a group and began taking bets. ‘Hey, you’re not taking any bets here soldier. Unless I get a cut!’ Shredskin grinned and those around laughed along. Poppler and Grimpaw jogged back up to the crowd near the other legionnaires, ‘What is this?’ Poppler asked Fyon.

‘This fight? Oh these two do it once a month at least. They go way back, always fought like the dickens. One of ’em will say something the other takes offense to, and they just beat each other senseless ’til they get tired. It’s become a ritual. Here,’ the legionnaire said, tossing Poppler a bag of nuts with a grin, ‘have a seat.’

Grimpaw stood beside Fyon quietly watching. ‘Hey.’ he said patting the charr engineer on his thigh, then motioning him down to listen. ‘The centurion’s out there doing that because he’s defending you and your friend this time, you two better appreciate it. There was no beef between them….yet, heh. You came back in one piece, no one died, just leave it at that.’

The charr engineer leaned back up and nodded, a new-found respect for his centurion clearly giving more than he was getting with no sign of either stopping soon, then reached over and patted his little asura friend on the back, ‘Thanks, buddy.’ Poppler half grinned, just glad to see his friend free, and alive. ‘Any time, my friend.’

Heart of the Beast Pt. 2

‘Come, my friend. We can go to my college and find my krewe to get our wounds tended.’ When they left the Citadel after the confrontation between Grimpaw & the centurion with Dinky, the two soon made it to Rata Sum, where they explained what had happened to the asura’s college professor while being patched up and made comfortable.

On their rehab trips around asura territory, Poppler told the charr of the asura problem with inquest while Grimpaw simply took in the lush jungle and animals. The next two weeks saw Poppler mostly healed, and the charr felt as though he was coming back to life as well, albeit with several large bald patches.

By the third week Grim was tired of being lazy healing, and would disappear all day just being up and out, doing something, anything. And usually he would be back at his friend’s college by nightfall at the latest, but this time dawn had come around and there was still no Grimpaw.

Poppler and his krewe gathered a group of asura and spread out over Metrica Province looking for his friend but found no sign. Because as they were still searching jungle and swamp the next evening, the charr was getting his skull cracked by his centurion at the Hero’s Canton canteen.

The centurion in Rata Sum at night

‘WAKE UP!’ Dinky smacked Grimpaw on the left side of his snout, the only response being rattling chains the sleeping engineer was hanging from in the ceiling and floor. The legionnaire reached over and picked up a bucket of water from the floor, turned and threw it in Grimpaw’s face. A second later there was a waking snort, he shook his head and exhaled a few times, then looked around trying to focus.

Vision blurry from what he later found was the centurion’s fist knocking him out and across the canteen floor ten feet, head swollen and throbbing, he first saw his legionnaire Dinky toss the empty bucket aside then place his paws on hips. ‘Well well, our little warrior is awake, boss. When do I….’ Grimcrotch stepped forward and pushed him back, ‘Leave him alone, Dinky.’

‘You’ve already done enough by beating his friend without my authorization. If you hadn’t done that we wouldn’t be in this situation, just back off.’ Dinky turned to his friend, ‘But…’ with upturned paws. ‘No buts. I should make you go help Vesta Fuseheart on the war wagon prep deck for a month, we haven’t had an engineer there. So don’t push it,’ he said, poking his friend roughly in the chest.

The centurion turned to Grimpaw, ‘Where’s your friend, soldier?’ Grimpaw’s foggy vision and head both began to clear, the dull throbbing pain continued. Arms flayed out chained to the ceiling and staring down Grimcrotch, he remained silent.

Elexis Shredskin jogged through the Black Citadel holding cell doorway. ‘Sir, we found out where he is. In Rata Sum.’ The centurion looked over at Dinky who was already on his way out, ‘Get the battalion together.’ His 2nd spoke up from around the corner at a jog, ‘On it boss!’

——

‘Just stop, put your weapons down, I’ll go. No need to start a war for one person. I did what had to be done, and would do it again. In fact I’m rather curious as to what they have to say or do about my completely justified act of friendship.’ Poppler shoved Lefty’s charrzooka away from his professor’s direction and began to walk toward the asura gate past the tanks and war wagon.

The inner circle of charr lifted their weapons and moved toward the gate as Poppler neared it, then they circled him again and hand & ankle cuffed him, weapons pointed out. The rest of the battalion moved back in waves, covering their backs. The legionnaires relaxed but remained encircling their centurion, observing their soldiers orderly exit.

Grimcrotch grabbed Lefty gruffly by the shoulder as he walked by, holding on and pulling him closer and speaking with a threat under his breath, ‘You get out of that war wagon again in the middle of a mission and your replacement will be burying you.’ Lefty’s smile dropped and eyes grew wide. ‘Ye…yessir!’ he stammered.

The centurion shoved him away slightly, then said aloud ‘Good job, soldier,’ giving him a hard friendly slap on the back toward the gate. The big grin returned to Lefty’s face as he saluted then jumped up onto his iron beast, tossed the charrzooka back into its rack near his seat, fired up the war wagon and drove back through to Lion’s arch then the Citadel, cigar stub puffing like the exhaust.

Heart of the Beast Pt. 1

He trotted up to the door of Hero’s Canton from the city entrance, slid the gate open and strode toward the canteen with senses heightened incredibly, staring forward. Coming to the doorway his world slowed; inside, the din faded to silence in his mind.

He glided toward his legionnaire Dinky leaning against a pole on a stool, speaking with the centurion, mouthing words but not being heard by him, the engineer touching the pistol on his right side lightly with a fingertip for reassurance. His red glowing eyepiece auto focused on its target.

As he approached and Dinky turned to see him, his right leg came up in a blurr even as slow as things seemed to be happening. At the same time his left paw snapped over to grab the pistol on his right; his foot connected squarely on the legionnaire’s snout knocking him off the stool and several feet back.

Just as the engineer’s foot hit his superior solidly he started to turn and look toward the centurion, his left paw began to swing around with the pistol. For a millionth of a second he thought he heard the sound of an artillery shell in his left ear, then felt as though he was hit by one, and the slow motion world went black instantly.

The centurion arrives before the others, to look around in Rata Sum

The last of the battalion stepped through the asura gate. As they did, those who had already gone stood near the centurion in Rata Sum with the legionnaires, looking around at the structures hanging in seemingly mid air and no support. The charr group grew; a lone asura representing one of the colleges ran up.

‘HALT! Now see here, what is the reason for your bringing a fully armed charr army into our city….uh,’ he looked around at the centurion and subordinates, noticing the others standing slightly behind Grimcrotch, ‘I take it you’re the commander. What’s the meaning of this?’ he demanded, crossing his arms with a crowd gathering behind him.

‘You can bring me Poppler Swizzlestix, or I can destroy your city…’ he said with a growl and waved his arm to a soldier behind him, who stepped back through the gate. The charr soldiers moved forward onto the stone flooring near the steps as three tanks, then a war wagon drove through and parked in front of it, ‘Lefty’ Ironpaw jumping down from his drive panel and standing there, puffing his cigar stub and charrzooka slung over his shoulder, paw on his hip.

The group of asura that had gathered stood with mouths agape while several armed asura ran to them, weapons pulled. Dinky whistled and swung his arm in a circle above his head; half of the battalion moved to entirely surround the group of little asura, charr weapons turned on them.

——

The centurion leaned forward and down toward the group, facing the representative and said with a low fang baring rumble, ‘Now, bring me Poppler.’ The college rep seemed to draw himself together enough to ask, ‘And what exactly has he done to the charr to warrant your army coming to look for him?’

Dinky stepped up and said ‘Threatening the centurion, three legionnaires and a company of soldiers.’ The crowd gasped; the asura with weapons adjusted their stance, then the 12th surrounding them took aim and chose their targets in response, Lefty swinging his charrzooka off his shoulder and lining up the college rep’s head in his sight standing on his war wagon.

‘Alright, alright, enough of this. I’m here, leave everyone alone you brutes.’ Poppler said, pushing between some charr surrounding the group and standing next to his college rep, staring back at the centurion. ‘What do you want? I saved my friend Grimpaw Grindgear, YOUR soldier, so you cage and beat me for three weeks? I don’t recall seeing you at the ‘party’, centurion, have you come for your share of the fun?’

‘We all knew of the risks of this plan of yours. When I arrived at the cliff top he was being dragged with absolutely no care out of the water by soldiers like scrap metal, and none had the slightest hint of medicines. When you arrived and ordered me away from him, I had already begun what could have been done in getting him ready to move to the Citadel for better care. You can’t simply throw someone on a stretcher and hope you get there in time.’

‘You weren’t going to stop me. He is my friend before he is your soldier in my eyes.’ As he spoke another, larger asura crowd had gathered around the charr battalion surrounding the college rep, Poppler and their armed companions, including several golems that proceeded to sit then convert to gatling gun platforms, aimed at the charr.

——

‘Let’s go, Poppler, we didn’t come here to go back empty handed.’ Dinky said, waving him toward the return asura gate. Lefty began to slowly move toward the centurion between the other soldiers. ‘Whatever in Tyria makes you think I’ll do that, legionnaire?’ the asura engineer replied with a defiant raised eyebrow.

Gatling gun, rifle and pistol chambers filled, minions & pets summoned and stances were set with weapons drawn from the asura army surrounding the charr soldiers, at the same time the 12th replied in kind, tanks firing up flamethrowers. Grimcrotch drew his greatsword, his legionnaires surrounded their centurion.

Lefty appeared past Grimcrotch out of nowhere with his charrzooka aimed directly at the college rep, inches away from his face.

‘Now’, he said, puffing his stub and looking directly at the engineer standing next to his professor, ‘the way I see it, little Poppler, you threatened not only my centurion but these other legionnaires here too. And if all they wanna do is ‘talk’ to you back at Black Citadel about the centurion only, looks to me like you’re gettin’ a deal. By rights we should waste you here and be done with it.’

‘But seeing as you don’t wanna go, how ’bout I blow your professor’s head clean away, then they tell you that again to see if it influenced your decision at all, maybe you just misunderstood. ‘Cause see, we ain’t leavin’ without you.’ Lefty continued holding his charrzooka inches from the college professor’s head, his flat face puffing on the stub a few times, a glint of fang in the sun.

Flight Of Icarus: Showdown

Poppler sped to the top of the cliff in his tank and slammed on the brakes, hopping out before the vehicle even stopped. A dozen charr soldiers were gathered around two others dragging a blackened mess from the water. ‘GET AWAY FROM HIM!!’ the asura shouted at the two, leaping at one feet first and kicking him in the head, knocking him down and away, then pulling dual pistols and pointing them at the other charr, who dropped Grimpaw’s unmoving body and backed away.

‘Hey, you little rat, get away from that charr!’ a warrior yelled at him, drawing his greatsword and moving toward Poppler. The little engineer turned one pistol at the charr he kicked who stood, and the other pistol aimed at the warrior’s face. ‘Back off or you’re both dead!’ he barked, then dropped his rifle, flame, and net turrets. ‘Another step and I activate them!’ He quickly put his pistols away and felt for a pulse, then pulled out his medical bag and began applying medicines to the unmoving, but fortunately still breathing, body of Grimpaw.

Next he felt around on the charr engineer’s body for broken bones, and found two ribs and his left forearm out of place, then ordered a soldier to grab several sticks from the nearby wood while he searched his bag for bandages. ‘Hurry! We have to get him out of here and looked at by a proper doctor!’ The soldier came running back with them, then Poppler quickly snapped the bones back in place, hearing a slight moan from his friend indicating he was at least alive, then braced the arm and wrapped Grimpaw’s chest to tighten it up for the trip.

The centurion’s and other vehicles began to arrive at the scene, then they jumped out and ran toward the group of soldiers gathered around the burned charr and little asura. ‘GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU LITTLE RAT!!’ Grimcrotch bellowed, arm reaching back to grab his longbow.

Cliff top in Fireheart Rise, where Grimpaw landed after the rocket explosion

Poppler whipped out his pistols again and aimed them straight at the centurion’s head, replying ‘I’m not one of your meathead beasts here, centurion, I take orders from no one. You have two choices; you can either back off and let me help my friend here by getting him to a medic while he’s still alive, or I can shoot you in the face and activate these turrets, where none of you will live, including Grimpaw. It’s up to you.’ Grimcrotch stopped; he had never raged within himself this intensely before….

Staring daggers at the little engineer with his paw holding the longbow on his back, he said ‘Alright, everyone back off. Dinky and Shredskin, get over here with that stretcher and get Grimpaw on it, then take him to the Canton now. MOVE!’ The two ran over to Grimpaw and began placing him on the stretcher, all the while staring angrily at the asura, then rushed Grim to a tank and secured him, Dinky hopping inside and driving off with Elexus riding on top, holding the badly burned charr.

When the tank with his friend on the back took off toward the Citadel, Poppler dropped his pistols from aiming at the centurion and fell to his knees, head bowed, exhausted. Legionnaire Fyon the Wraith stepped toward the little engineer, kicked the turrets away and picked him up by his collar, holding him off the ground. ‘What do you wanna do with him, sir?’ The centurion replied while walking back to his tank, ‘Get him to the Citadel and lock him up.’

Fyon and Wrathclaw tied up the asura’s wrists and ankles, then the centurion’s friend tossed him over his shoulder and carried him away to another tank, where he was strapped down on top and rode for the entire trip back, bouncing and banging around on the hard iron body. Wrathclaw deliberately jumped the tank several times; when they arrived, they saw the asura had a large swollen spot and was bleeding from the back of his head.

——

Three weeks later a still injured & bandaged, and mostly hairless, Grimpaw, limped from Hero’s Canton to the Black Citadel prison with a little help from his legionnaire. They arrived to find a beaten, bruised and bloody, nearly naked asura sitting up in the far corner, nervously watching for the next round of beatings. ‘Poppler, what happened!?’ Grimpaw asked.

The asura focused on Grimpaw, a few seconds later recognizing him and trying to smile, ‘Hello, my friend. I’m glad to see you are ok.’

Grimpaw jerked his arm from Dinky’s grasp and went to the bars, ‘Who did this to you?’ Poppler looked around nervously, ‘I…I don’t know if I should say, it might happen again.’ Grimpaw turned around in a rage and grabbed his legionnaire by his collar with his one good arm, ‘WHO DID THIS TO HIM!?’ Dinky reached up and took Grim’s paw down, ‘Relax, engineer…’ Grimpaw turned slightly, then hurled his arm around with a balled up fist, hammering Dinky in the side of his head, knocking him out.

‘AAAGH!! By Light that hurt!’ Grimpaw yelled, shaking his paw. He went to the guard desk, removed the cell keys and went to his friend’s cage door then opened it. ‘Come on, Poppler, let’s go. No one is going to touch you any more I promise you that, my friend.’ Poppler stood as best he could and limped out, went to the desk and found his armor then put it on, and the two tried to help each other limp out of the cell area.

Poppler Swizzlestix, the only asura to stand alone against nineteen charr soldiers, and live

They went to Grimpaw’s shack on the war wagon prep deck and the charr opened a crate inside the door, took out his Slingshot and handed Poppler a pistol, then they slowly walked toward the city exit past the Canton just as centurion Grimcrotch came out and Dinky came running down from the Citadel behind them, rubbing the side of his head. ‘Grimpaw, where do you think you’re taking him?’ the centurion demanded.

Grimpaw reached back with his good arm grabbing his hand cannon and whipped around, aiming it straight at Grimcrotch’s face, silent. The standoff lasted several seconds, Poppler standing quietly at his friend’s side, pistol holstered and looking angrily at the centurion and legionnaire through his one unswollen open eye, then the two wounded warriors turned and limped out of the city, helping each other along….

Flight Of Icarus Pt. 5

‘No, wait Grimpaw. Let’s test this again before I let you go. I want to be positive nothing has broken during transport here.’ Grimcrotch waved his engineer down from the rocket vehicle. Grimpaw unstrapped himself with one click, and climbed down saying, ‘You got it, sir.’ Poppler turned off the radio and trotted back toward the group of charr near the centurion. ‘Alright everyone back. I’m going to fire this up,’ he said, shooing them away.

Poppler reached under the wind shield and pulled a small lever back. A quiet hum and whine started, and began to grow louder, then he pushed a button. Suddenly a loud KAPOW! when the fuel injector released, and the vehicle began blasting a long flame tail behind. The asura stepped back a few feet after checking to make sure the dials under the shield were working, crossed his arms and cocked his head, listening for any abnormalities.

He turned to Grimpaw and tapped his wrist. The charr looked at the pocketwatch in his paw again, and held up a finger….one min. The flame kept burning as strongly as it had started. Ten seconds later it petered out; ‘One minute ten, Poppler.’ The little engineer nodded. The two turned to the centurion. ‘Ok, as long as you two are good with things right now, I’ll let you take over. Good luck, Grimpaw. For Blood Legion, soldier!’ Grimcrotch saluted his engineer.

‘For Blood Legion, sir!’ Grimpaw replied, smartly returning the salute. The charr engineer went to the fuel supply and grabbed a couple containers, then returned to the vehicle, popping open the panel where it was to be poured in. After the containers were emptied he wiped down the metal body around it then returned the containers. ‘You ready, Grim?’ Poppler asked his friend. Grimpaw took a deep breath and nodded, ‘Let’s do it, Poppler.’ he said.

——

The asura trotted back out to the radio and turned it on, tested it with a few lines to his friend who returned them, then Grimpaw strapped himself into the seat again. ‘Ok, fire it up Grimpaw you’re in control, my friend. Good luck, and I’ll see you back here in a few minutes.’ Grimpaw turned and gave a quick salute to his friend, who returned it, then leaned forward and pulled the small lever. The quiet hum and whine began again.

He waved over Dinky, who brought a sledgehammer over to knock the lockdown pins out of the way, saluted quickly then trotted back from the rocket. ‘Here we go…’ he said to himself, and pressed the button. At the KAPOW! the rocket began slowly moving down the ramp, then quickly picked up speed. The charr engineer on the rocket vehicle roared down the launch ramp, dropping the wheeled cart under it off the end into Blackblade Lake.

‘….kay so far Poppler, tem….ormal.’ Poppler began to worry about the radio. The centurion ran over to Poppler, ‘It looks good, what’s he saying?’ The asura nervously replied, ‘Uh, the radio is breaking up a bit, sir, but he said things look normal so far.’ Grimcrotch nodded, then turned back toward the flaming dot slowly getting smaller over the lake.

On the rocket, Grimpaw kept a steady pressure on the ailerons and rudder, but it was becoming harder to hold them in control. It appeared to be going faster than they planned. Thirty five seconds into the flight he passed the last under water boulder near the Flame Temple Tombs. Suddenly a small flame appeared licking out from under a riveted panel in front of the wind shield. ‘Uh, Poppler we have a problem..’ he said. ‘A fire in the front.’

‘….pler we…ve a prob…’ came over the radio, then static. ‘What did he say, Poppler?’ the centurion turned and asked of the asura with a scowl. Turning back to watch, the rocket was flying over the cliffs where the radio interference cut out the signal in earlier tests. ‘He said…’

A blast jerked Poppler out of his sentence as he watched the rocket explode in the distance with parts falling away onto the cliff, and a flaming parachute popped out of the back of a burning ball that slowed its fall for a moment, then the ropes burned through and the fireball dropped onto the cliff top, disappearing from view.

Cliff between Diessa Plateau and Fireheart Rise, where Grimpaw landed

The centurion’s arm snapped out so fast the little engineer never saw it coming, and grabbed the asura by his neck half strangling him at charr eye level, while Poppler struggled to pry the paw off his throat. ‘YOU BETTER HOPE HE IS ALIVE, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!’ Fangs dripping with vengeance, Grimcrotch threw the asura back to the ground and shouted to his soldiers to get up to the cliff, sending some to the other side to Fireheart Rise. Poppler sat up trying to breath again, rubbing his throat.

The centurion ran to a tank and took off at full speed toward the end of the lake. The asura engineer ran to another tank, figured out how to use it quickly, then jerked forward several times until he got the gears shifting correctly and sped off toward Fireheart Rise, knowing the area up on the cliff where his friend came down. He had no fear any longer of what the centurion would do to him if Grimpaw was dead, but he was afraid his friend may very well be….

 

Flight Of Icarus Pt. 4

Turning back toward the table, the centurion tossed his worn and weathered notebook down. The asura and Grimpaw exchanged glances. ‘Look at it.’ Grimcrotch said, nodding. Poppler picked it up, began to flip through several faded pages, then slowed, finally stopping on a particular page. He looked up at the centurion with surprise, who simply stared back with crossed arms.

Going back to the notebook, he looked for a date; every page had one…it was from five years ago!

‘Sir, you already made your own plans for a rocket engine five years ago?! These notes look very close to my own, that I just drew up a few months ago. But you aren’t an engineer….are you?’ Grimcrotch pulled out a chair in front of him in the canteen, and sat down. ‘Never underestimate anyone, asura, no matter their outward appearance. And you clearly did that with me, assuming I wouldn’t know how to do your work.’

‘And you’re right, I’m not an engineer. But it doesn’t take one to learn, Poppler.’ He leaned back in the chair on two legs, ‘It’s good to know you asura think we charr sit around lazing in the sun when we aren’t out killing enemies. If the time ever comes, we will have a very big immediate advantage against you,’ he said, raising an eyebrow to the little engineer. ‘Clearly, sir.’

‘I only showed you those plans because you created your own, asura. You never got help from me in making them. You may sit around with Grimpaw,’ he waved in Grimpaw’s direction, ‘coming up with great new ideas, but they are new ideas, and you created them HERE,’ he pointed into the table, meaning in charr territory, ‘and I expect them to only be utilized here, not in Rat-Something or other. Your ideas are my property when you’re coming up with them here, you understand me, asura?’

‘Crystal clear, centurion.’ Poppler snapped a smart charr salute. ‘Alright,’ Grimcrotch pushed himself back from the table and stood, ‘Grimpaw, tell Dinky you want the warband to start moving the crates and supplies out to the launch area, I want everything ready in a few days out there.’ ‘On my way, sir.’ The charr engineer saluted and ran off with Poppler to begin the heavy work.

Blackblade Lake launch area map, Diessa Plateau

When most of the spare parts, along with the radio, were taken out to Blackblade Lake, Poppler stayed at the site to set up the radio and do a last minute check on the launch ramp; everything looked good. Say what you will about the charr, he thought, but they certainly weren’t the undisciplined warmongers most races assumed. Given what they’ve accomplished as he looked back, they came very far very fast.

But then they didn’t have a choice.

Grimpaw and a few of the warband returned with more fuel and supplies, and arranged them out of rocket range behind it for safety, then Poppler told him he wanted to test the radio distance. So Grimpaw hopped in a tank and took off for the far end of the lake with his earpiece. All he got was static inside the tank, but when he stepped out the radio worked perfectly. Except when he got closer to the cliff wall at the end of the lake near the falls.

Maybe there was metal in the rock that created the interference. Oh well, he thought, probably won’t make it this far anyway. He drove back to the launch ramp and parked, then told Poppler of the cliff wall interference, but the asura agreed, the rocket probably wouldn’t get that far.

Grimcrotch and his legionnaires showed up, along with several other officers. Dinky arrived a moment later, ‘The tribune said he would be along shortly, boss.’ he said. Grim nodded. ‘One more trip, guys. Can’t do anything without the rocket.’ As he said that, in the distance he could see a tank rolling closer pulling a modified trailer, with the rocket vehicle resting securely on its back.

Grimpaw and Poppler supervised the unloading of the vehicle, demanding everyone be extremely careful or get out of the way for someone who would be. The rocket was gently placed on its cart resting on the ramp, then locked down in place. For the next hour the engineers meticulously went over every visible section, making sure it was exactly as it was when it left the war wagon prep deck.

——

After the inspection, Grimpaw strapped on the parachute his centurion and Poppler both insisted he wear, with little complaint. He climbed onto the back of the rocket and belted himself onto the seat, then leaned forward to grip the steering and work the ailerons. He then seated his boots into the pedals slightly below and behind him, pushing each back several times to test rudder control.

The two engineers tested the radio a last time. ‘You ready my friend?’ Poppler asked over their intercom. ‘There is no hurry. I’d rather let things sit and get cold than send you up if you’re not.’ A hundred yards away the asura could see Grimpaw on the seat leaning along the top edge of the rocket. ‘Let’s go, Poppler. Everything is clear, I’m ready, and we got the brass here.’ Poppler could see Grimpaw wave his arm in acknowledgement.

Flight Of Icarus Pt. 3

The young cat flew across Ashford Plain at breakneck speed, eyes scanning every rock, tree or bush nearby on its path. Passing Exterminatus HQ and coming upon Charr’s Triumph, the charr bolted past the last boulder near the monument. Suddenly a black blur leaped out at the running cat from the right, tackling him with the two rolling across the ground in a hissing, fist pounding, claw ripping fight.

So much dust was kicked up soldiers from the nearby fort saw and heard them, and wandered over to see what was going on. They didn’t see any weapons, so they simply stood watching the ball of cat fur fight, cheering them on. After a few minutes, one joked that if he could tell who they were, he might take bets on a winner, getting a laugh from the growing crowd.

When they finally broke up their scrapping and jumped back from each other, stepping in a low circle and ready for anything, the smaller one grinned and said breathing heavily, ‘You gettin’ tired yet, Grim? Hehe…’ Dinky began touching a few bloody claw marks across his snout that was swelling, from being punched several times. He grimaced.

‘Why, are you ready to stop, you female?’ Grim sneered at Dinky with a half closed black eye. As soon as he finished his sentence, Dinky leaped at him, tackling him and pinning his arms to the ground then proceeded to pound on Grim’s already cut and swollen snout several times. ‘Call me a female again and I’ll rip your tail off. If you weren’t my friend I’d do it now.’ Dinky rolled off Grim, and they both sat up.

Grimcrotch grabbed Dinky and pushed him back, then sat on his head saying, ‘Oh yea? Well if you weren’t my friend I wouldn’t do this! You should feel special, BAHAHAHA!’

‘Gah, get off me you big ape!’ Dinky hollared, pushing Grim off him and wiping the side of his face. They began nursing their wounds, then looked at each other and began to laugh hysterically, sometimes interrupted by painful grunts and an ‘I think it’s broke. You have a hard head….’

Exterminatus HQ & Charr’s Triumph, scene of the fight w/ Dinky and Grimcrotch

During the rocket engine testing, the primitive fuel injector could give it a little over a minute of flight, barring mistakes. And Poppler wasn’t having any mistakes, his life literally depended on it. The centurion was present at six of the firings, all of which went flawlessly. After seeing the last one, he spoke with his engineers and they set a tentative date.

Grimcrotch and Dinky sat outside Black Citadel proper near a fire after the date was set, enjoying some of their signature sour mash. ‘We used to have so many fights out here, Grim. I mean before the warband, you know. Was great fun.’ He took a sip and continued staring at the fire. ‘I don’t remember when you and I weren’t fighting, Dinky. I still have a lump back here from over by Charr’s Triumph down the road.’ Grim massaged the back of his head.

‘Yea, you sat on my head you bag of meat. Ugh, still can’t believe you did that.’ Dinky scowled and took another sip. ‘BAHAHAHAHA!’ Grim burst out in laughter and slapped his knee at remembering that fight, then sipped his drink. ‘So do you feel special because I sat on your head, or do I have to do it again?’ Grimcrotch grinned broadly.

‘I dare you, Grim.’ Dinky turned to him with a serious look on his face. The centurion rubbed the lump on the back of his head again, and said ‘Mmm, how about not.’ The best friends chuckled and turned back to the fire. ‘Everything looks good, Dinky. This is going to be big if we can make it work. Great job on those wings, less drag the better the flight.’

Dinky nodded,’Those are two remarkable engineers, Grim. And you know I don’t say things like that lightly.’ The centurion poked at the fire with a stick. ‘Nothing ever gets done unless you shake things up, Dinky. By just conforming to norms and not thinking out of the box, you decay. If the three (legions) had stayed subjugated to flame legion and not fought back….’ he shrugged,’…that would be it. We wouldn’t be forging our own path and have them all but on the run.’

——

‘Engineers like those two are what will keep us several steps ahead of them and other enemies. To keep them sharp you have to keep them on their claws. Give them tasks that have never been done before, and you expand their learning capacity, and charr knowledge as a whole. This rocket can not only be used as a vehicle but can easily convert to ordnance. That’s why I had Grimpaw use rivets on several panels instead of welding, I have some ideas for the future.’

Grim slugged down his half empty glass, threw it in the fire, then turned and grabbed the bottle of sour mash.

He held it up, offering to Dinky. His legionnaire stood and held out his glass, paused, then killed it and threw it into the fire as well, and grabbed the whiskey from his boss. The centurion turned back, grabbed & popped open another, and took a long draw. Dinky tipped his back, then turned to Grim, ‘Glad I met you in the fahrar, buddy. It’s been an honor watching you rise to the level you’re at. You’re skirting genius with me.’

‘Don’t go there, Dinky. Neither one of us would be anywhere if we weren’t the blaze raisers in the fahrar, nor would either of us have gotten anywhere if we sat back and took any guff in our warband. We’ve had each others backs this whole time, my friend. It wasn’t just me.’ Grim held up his bottle to Dinky, his legionnaire held his out as well, then tinked them in a cheers.

 

Flight Of Icarus Pt. 2

The flame legion shaman wandered the burned out charr camp, while his men finished torching the tents and killing the occupants. A good place for his own soldiers right on the bank of a river, though a bit too muddy for his own liking. One partially burned tent sat to his left near the river bank, the corner of which looked to be sitting on a perpetually muddy bit of land. The shaman stepped inside and looked around among the items left.

In the mud part of the ground inside the tent, a small lump moved slightly, unseen by the shaman. An eyeball slowly appeared in the lump, watching the flame legion commander as he searched the tent for anything useful to him and his men.

‘There is nothing in he–‘ he began to mutter to himself, then was interrupted by a muddy blur that leaped from the pit and jammed two daggers into the base of his neck, twisting and ramming them deeper, while the shaman tried to reach back and grab the small charr hanging by the blades.

In the din remaining outside the tent, no one could hear his shouts. The shaman fell to the ground and tried to roll around and catch the charr cub, but on the ground, the cub pulled the blades from the flame legion commander’s neck and began jamming them into his back with lightning speed, puncturing his lungs and guaranteeing his demise. The muddy wide-eyed cub stood and looked at his dying enemy, incredulous of what he had just done.

The shaman stopped turning, his right paw falling outside the tent flap. A moment later a flame legion soldier saw part of the shaman’s garb on the wrist of his arm, and there was a shout; fear gripped the cub, and he ran to the back of the tent, slid under the wall and disappeared into the darkness…

——

The centurion woke with a start in the pre-dawn darkness and sat up looking around, the memory of his first encounter with flame legion burned in him every day and haunted his sleep. He stood and began putting on his armor and longbow, then walked to a small creek in Ashford Plain to throw some water on his face. While doing that he remembered running from the tent where he killed the shaman.

Coated with mud and blood, the frightened cub ran from Diessa Plateau to Black Citadel to tell someone, anyone, what just happened to his camp. He ran to a guard near the Plateau entrance, somehow fumbled out what happened, and the guard told him to follow, leading the cub directly to Rytlock Brimstone’s office.

After telling the tribune what happened, Rytlock gathered a force of Blood Legion to return to the devastated camp, ordering the cub to go with him to ‘experience what he will be doing for Blood Legion in the future.’ He was given a dagger, but in the middle of the fight the cub Grimcrotch found a shortbow, and discovered he had a knack for perfection in ranged attacks by killing three moving flame legion with head shots as he stood next to the tribune.

The tribune’s jaw dropped; he had never seen any cub do something like that at such an early age. Brimstone called over his adjutant, and told him to get the cub started in Primus Kurr’s fahrar right away, as ‘we can’t have this cub’s eagle eye in danger just watching what we do.’ In mid-fight, the cub Grim was whisked away to begin his education with the toughest fahrar primus known to all charr soldiers. So began his friendship with the tribune.

The centurion inspecting the backside of the Blackblade Lake launch area

As the sun began to rise, the legionnaires under Grimcrotch command began to arrive at the canteen of Hero’s Canton for their meeting about the rocket vehicle, along with the main two engineers in charge of the project, Grimpaw Grindgear and Poppler Swizzlestix, the asura.

Grimpaw began telling the centurion about the toughness of his welding and the aerodynamics of the vehicle, but Grimcrotch interrupted him. ‘I appreciate what you’re telling me, engineer. We will discuss your excellent work in a few minutes. But at the moment I want to hear about the safety of the pilot, you, from your fellow asura engineer Poppler. Ultimately I want to make sure you come back in one piece.’

The centurion leaned toward the asura with raised eyebrow, looking right through to his soul, ‘Because if my engineer doesn’t come back in one piece, you’ll be joining him in pieces.’ The last few words said across the table with fangs showing, Poppler got the message and gulped & loosened his collar. ‘Yes, well, understood centurion. I can assure you only the strictest safety measures were integrated into your project, sir…’