Gerald's post siege story

Gerald takes a deep breath and surveys the battlefield. The area around each of the North and West gates is a carnage of gore and violence. *Too many good men died here today. I'll need to hire from the militia to fill out our regulars...*

But even that was a passing thought as he walked over to his brother. Gawain was heaving deep breaths as he held his bow steady and pointed at the fallen mech warrior, as if expecting it to stand back up and keep fighting. Gerald places both hands on his brothers shoulders.

"Stand down, soldier. Mission complete."

It isn't until he hears these words that Gawain eases off his bowstring. A haunted look is on his face as battle rage leaves him. This is the visage of a man who knows too well the cost of war. He looks around, taking in the devastation. *Timory is gone for sure, not even a head left on him. Aleah could yet be saved, thank gods, her kids are barely walking...* As he processes the dreadful mathematics of triage, Gawain walks among the fallen.

***O laav fadb***

His healing chant could be heard whenever he found someone he thought would benefit from it. A stout handed warrior, his mana was virtually
untouched in the fighting... Almost as if he'd saved it for just this occasion. His men spread out doing the same with their lesser healing spells. One dashed off towards the church, off to retrieve the Padre and
 bring forth the blessings of Rubiss, that he might save more dead or dying soldiers.

Gerald approached the fallen mech with a look of disgust on his face. Many of the Descendants of Erdrick stand nearby, Claire notably still holding the sword that downed the cursed thing.

"Good work, that, miss. Hunter mechs are insatiable. The only way to
beat them is to fight without fear of loss or pain, because they feel neither and would bring both on you if they can."

He reaches deep inside the crushed metal and pulls out a crystal glowing with a faint yellow light... And crushes it in his fist, heedless of the shards digging in to his flesh, cutting his hand to bloody ribbons.

"Fare thee well, comrade. May Rubiss guide you to your rest."

He looks to the others gathered nearby.

"You've all fought and bled for my town. I cannot express how much that
means to me. Know that I will personally make sure that it is known on this day the Descendants Of Erdrick fought to save us. Hero's blood indeed. I would speak with you all on the morrow at first light. I think I can shed some much needed light on matters. Rubiss knows we must all pull together in these troubled times. But now... Now I have a city to hold together."

The Descendants are thus dismissed from his thoughts as he turns from warrior mage to city leader. He changes roles seamlessly, as if made for both. He notes that the Descendants do not all clear the field, but can be seen among the fallen either healing or carrying bodies to those who can. It doesn't matter. His job now is to make sure the guard are prepared for another surprise such as this one.

Gawain climbs the city wall as if it was flat ground and surveys the countryside. The grass is tore up outside the city but otherwise the carnage escaped it, except directly west of town. Near Tantengel Castle there seemed to be a less fierce battle.

*Did they send less troops there or did ol Rupert put them down quickly? Dumb as a bag of rocks but with the heart of a KingLeon as ever. Rubiss knows I was glad to see him this day.*

He tries to find signs of the infernal catapult that rained slimy death on him and his men but it must have been well clear of the walls, likely near the treeline.

*Bloody smart of them there. Of course slimes could absorb the impact of landing... Rubiss bless they had no powerful slimes mongst their ranks. What would we have done if they'd had Slionhearts or Prime Slimes in their ranks? We'd have died is what. Even I couldn't fight that many.*

The Padre from the church moved among the ranks of the fallen. Every so often ***"Muoga***" could be heard from him. The Padre was saving all his spiritual energy trying to revive those who had passed, trusting the city's various rangers to patch up the injured. Gerald had trained with him for this eventuality. His job was to restore those Rubiss would return, not to heal the maimed as much as he might wish to. They could be seen to another day, and the Inn still stood Rubiss be blessed. His was a role no other could fill... Or at least no other that would. He looked at his neighbor's hut, knowing full well the heretic fool could unleash a healing power far beyond his grasp and render his role moot if he only so chose...

As if on cue, Hex's door opens and the old man creeps out. He doesn't walk so well and seems almost exhausted. He walks unfailingly to where Horace is stretched out.

***Magemmaps***

A single spell rings out and Horace's eyes roll open, his wounds gone completely.

"W'at...? I t'oug't I was a goner... Miss Rubiss was explain'n 'ow I'd been a fool but a gentle fool jus' a mo' ago..."

"Come, lad. We've research to conduct. You've been a fool indeed but Rubiss needs you less than I do."

Hex begins to lead Horace back towards his hut when Linda practically tackles the man.

"Hex... Lonk... Galon. Please, they fought beside your lad. Surely you can help them too..."

Hex grimaces. He'd expected this but it was no less painful for knowing it was coming.

"Lass... As you well know, they are from lands beyond these. Rubiss's power does not stretch to those born so far from her home. I cannot restore them. None here can. Return them home... or..."

"Or what, man?! They are mine boon companions! I must have them back..."

Hex grows wistful and looks to the horizon.

"Far beyond the shores of Alfegard.. Grows the World Tree, Yggdrasil. The Tree Of The World's Might, Yggdrasil's leaves, dew, and blossoms are said to possess potent healing powers garnered from the tree's mighty strength. Seek it out and ye might find a way to restore your friends. I can guide ye only so much. Fallen Haukness, home of the Tower Of High Wizardry, sent out many years ago an expedition to that hallowed ground. It may be that their research could aid you.

Now I must be off."

Hex walks away from Linda, Horace shaking his head as he follows. Linda sinks to her knees, unbelieving that her allies might not be around to support her. Did she take them for granted?

Padre, as he wanders among the fallen, comes to the sheer pile of bodies surrounding the crumpled metal form of the Hunter mech. *Poor Timory... Not even enough of him left to give proper funeral rites. What awful power gave rise to this forsaken thing?!* He walks from body to body among the miltia members, clearly exhausted from his efforts this day. Of the dead only a handful rise back up to look for medical treatment in the Church where Rubin and his apprentices
 have set up a makeshift hospital to treat the wounded.

Of the would-be warriors who died by the Descendants side only a single Ranger from Alvin's squad makes the spiritual cut. As the Padre casts his resurrection magic Shaft stops his work to clear the field as his fighters are treated. The Padre does not even slow down as he walks by one of them, but his spell seems to have no effect on the other. A haunted look goes across Shaft's face as he realizes that his choices led to this... And how easily it could have been him laying there lifeless. Only his superior Fighter training and natural hardiness let him dodge the fiercest blows. The Padre shakes his head and moves on to
more downed guardsmen. Captain Rupert stops working beside Shaft and lays a hand on his shoulder.

"First battle command, lad? I wish I could tell you it gets easier... But the mantle of command is not a light one. Even a victory is a defeat for some. Always remember this, however."

Rupert points towards the old castle that serves as the government administration building in the distance. The figures of townsfolk can be seen leaving the safety of its solid stonework in a trickle, as if unsure the danger had passed. Rupert's monocle glints in the rising sun. Almost a full day had passed in the fighting.

"Can you imagine what that wretched thing would have done if loosed mongst their ranks? It only took a few blows from that machined blade to nearly fell Gawain, and a harder man I've never met. Those boys and old men who fought in the miltia knew the risks. They were volunteers, not draftees or slaves. That's their families back there, good man. The costs of battle are always weighty... But good gods the cost of not fighting would be ever higher. Each loss on my command weighs on my soul, but at the end of each day I count it a blessing that men would choose to give their lives fighting to save others. That's what separates us from the beasts of the land and the monsters therein."

Rupert leaves Shaft to his thoughts and goes back to shifting the rubble of the weapon shop.

As the sun climbs Gerald returns. He gathers the Descendants along with Eric Hunter, Rupert, and Deleon.

"Time for a debriefing, friends. I know you're all battle weary but I'll trouble you just a bit longer. Please follow me."

He leads the crowd back to the old castle. Having seen it locked down for war, the Descendants now recognize it for what it is. Nearly a copy of nearby Tantengel castle, its stonework is older and rougher. A bit smaller, as if the King's palace had shed its skin in growing and left this in its place. Gerald leads them to what would be the throne room, but is instead his conference room. He takes a seat at the head of a large table and gestures to its chairs.

"By all means, sit. I've enough to tell you that standing makes no sense.

Let me start by thanking you all again. I know not what we would have done without all of your aid. Thank Rubiss you were all here and able.

As you may have picked up by now, this is not my first encounter with these mecha. I think that explaining that to you new faces is required at this point. Forewarned is forearmed.

Almost ten years ago now, when Gawain and I were barely old enough to drink, the Princess began to get odd reports from our men posted in Cantlin. They've always been an odd bunch. They practice a secretive magic there, combining sorcery with machinery. Technomancy, it is called, and they refuse to teach its secrets to any not born there. Been that way for hundreds of years now, and in the past their mecha were mostly harmless. Mechanical horses to draw carts, metallic farm bots and servants. Their citizens worked this machinery and their manufacturies, producing some of the finest items our world has ever seen. Our guards down that way noticed cloaked men, however, that had not been seen before. They huddled in corners and spoke to the citizens. Almost before we knew it the first war bots had appeared. Order Mechanus had risen.

Order Mechanus is a cult who worships The One Supreme Machine. Their beliefs are that all things will one day serve the Machine and that they should work to hasten that day by mechanicizing as much as they can... By the sword if need be. In response to their aggression, the Princess formed a task force to investigate the issue quietly. Cantlin is many days march removed from Brecconary, past the scorching desert of Haukness and deep within the Land's Spine mountains. Other than a few injured men when they first mobilized, Order Mechanus had been no real threat thus far. This wisp of a girl, barely out of diapers, had the wisdom to send a small brigade rather than the entire army. Rubiss bless, we're lost without her...

Anyway, The task was given to myself, Gawain, Rupert, Deleon and our old sergeant Jackrum. A handful of fresh faces led by one grizzled vet, we posed as merchants from Rimuldar and stayed several nights in Cantlin. They were not overtly hostile to outsiders and preached at us about the True Machine. However, on the third night, having gathered we would not join their ranks willingly they broke down the door to our room and tried to drag us out with their machines. Needless to say, we took offense to that and killed the whole lot. We left town at a brisk jog, a handful of mecha birds chasing.

Well, Gawain soon did for them, no worries. After, we posted up in the woods nearby and began to scout the land. Took a few days but we found their thrice damned manufactory for war mecha. They were machining an entire goddamned army, converting farm bots and servants into war bots. The place ran day and night, dozens of war bots trundling around the place.

I think we damn near sprinted the entire distance back to the castle. Jackrum pushed us hard. With the location secured, Princess Gwendolin was ready to commit our entire army to stomping Order Mechanus flat and we marched on Cantlin. The fighting lasted weeks. Y'see, a living army must eat, sleep, rest. Their war bots had no such limitation and they never slowed down production. I could not tell you how many of those blasted birds I burnt out of the sky or how many scythe bearing farm/warrior Rupert and Deleon crushed. We lost many a good man, and slowly but surely we pushed deep enough into the mountains to mount a strike at the factory."

Deleon smiles grimly and Gerald twists the blackened and cracked ring on his finger.

"The terrors in that place... Surrounded on all sides by metal, we fought and fought. We smashed everything that moved to scrap. We had to stop production, you understand? We had to stop production or it would never end. In the end we caught only three of Order Mechanus's living members but we also found the rightful leaders to Cantlin alive and held hostage so that its citizens would not fuss. We found captured children kept to ensure good conduct by Order Mechanus' reluctant workers. Malnourished and sleep deprived, we practically carried them back to their city. Its children returned, its elder council back, the people of Cantlin took up their hammers and joined us on the front lines. ... I have never seen such grim rage as that on the faces of the technomancers of Cantlin. It was a personal affront to their simple lives that mecha be used for war. Many cried as they brought hammers down on their creations... But those hammers never stopped falling. Who knows better how to destroy a creation than the creator? Without their aid we would have been lost. Production stopped as we collectively destroyed every last war bot in the region... And whatever was left of Order Mechanus fled. A costly victory but the biggest threat we'd faced in hundreds of years was quelled."

Gerald holds up a black book. The Order Mechanus sigil can bee seen etched in metal on the cover.

"One of their craft books, detailing the process for making war bots. A natural scholar, I captured it from the factory before we turned it into a fucking crater. Written in cipher, I have spent the last decade breaking its secrets. These last weeks I've spent virtually sleepless digging at it. I've learned a few things.

The core of their process involves the spirits of monsters. You may have encountered these? Monster Hearts sometimes call to a man when defeated."

He touches his chest briefly and as he draws it away the blue bouncy Heart of a Slime dances on his fingertips. He smiles.

"We know not the reason.."

Deleon interrupts

"Ye know damn well the reason! Monsters are not the natural enemy of man! Even only a handful of years ago monster attacks were the exception and not the rule."

Gerald sharply gesture and cuts him off.

"We know not the reason but sometimes this joining happens. Order Mechanus found a way to extract the hearts of monsters forcefully and split it among many bots. Each war bot is powered a shard of the soul of a monster. The stronger the monster, the stronger the bot."

Deleon goes pale on hearing this. His muscular form tightens with rage but he holds his tongue.

"Hunter mechs... Those are the strong right arm of Order Mechanus. Their perfect soldiers. Only their most elite machimancers have the talent to craft a Hunter mech. They are highly customizable, each one hand crafted rather than produced on an assembly line... And each one is powered by the soul of a human warrior, forcefully extracted in a horrific ritual that I won't try to describe. The potential energy of a human soul dwarfs all but the most powerful of monsters. The one we fought here today... I'm certain its purpose was to fight Gawain and I. We are known to Order Mechanus and if they intend to attack Brecconary they would want us dead as soon as they can manage. If you Descendants and Captain Rupert had not been here... Well, you saw how hard pressed we were."

Gerald takes a deep breath and looks like he could use a drink... Or three. Or more.

"If Order Mechanus is back then they have a factory somewhere, and considering they're already attacking the city directly we can assume production is running steady... And it is close enough by that they can launch an attack. Those bird brains aren't too bright. The longer they're loose from their masters the more likely it is the shard soul inside just evaporates. It is **imperative** we find this factory and scrap it."

Gawain comes through the door, carrying the huge body of one of the huge metallic scorpions.

"I KNEW something wasn't quite right about these things, bro. Look."

He sets it down, grabs hold of its leg, and YANKS. There is the sound of metal tearing as rivets pop loose. Beneath the metal can be seen the
bright red carapace of a scorpion. Gawain laughs

"They're not true machines at all. They've merely bolted metal plates on regular scorpions. Armor plated the bastards and turned them loose on us."

At this, Eric speaks up.

"Aye, true enough... But I've seen worse. Far worse. Near the Nest lurks a beastie far beyond that.. thing. It wears the form of a scorpion but its eyes are like soulless pits..."

Gerald scratches his head at this.

"Near the southern mountains? That makes a bit of sense. Well, other things so we might wrap this up.

Aside from Order Mechanus, we were assaulted by an organized force of monsters. Monsters, by default, do not organize into squads and attack cities. And Order Mechanus does not use living monsters as weapons. There is a bigger plot afoot. Remember Horace's talk of a Baron Silver who began the Magician bandit attacks. A sinister force is at play, and it seems its end result is the weakening of Tantengel and Brecconary. Make no mistake, this was a coordinated attack on multiple fronts by an unknown force. It was a well thought out and calculated assault... But a small one. I think this might have been a feint, and attempt to feel out our position and strength. Sure, they attempted to break our backs but they only used weak monsters and one strong mecha. I think we forced their hand to act before they were fully ready when we freed the magicians from the curse of Greed...

And that's another thing. A Demon has not been seen in Alfegard since the days of Erdrick. Now Hex says to expect several? Those are ill tides. We will not be able to weather this storm alone. The cities of Alfegard need to stand united once more. No matter the cost, we MUST re-establish our connection with the others, especially Rimuldar and Cantlin. If war is coming we will NEED their manufacturies running at strength to arm our men.

Descendants, you are not mine to command. Your bloodline speaks for its self and you've proved that here this day. Live up to that legacy."

He still twists the ring on his finger, broken as it is.

"We'll hold the line. That's what soldiers do. Get some rest, folks. Meeting adjourned."