A/N: READ THIS AS IT CONTAINS A DIRE WARNING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! ABOUT THE WARNING. YEAH.What the hell am I doing?!Believe me people, I ask this question every day. My writing method is horribly haphazard, I have the worst writing work ethic you could imagine, and I'll probably never finish half of the stories I start.So why another goddamn fic?Simple. My muse isn't so much a source of inspiration as she is a source of insomnia. An idea for a story will insert itself into my brain at 2 in the morning, and then I won't be able to find rest nor peace until I get the friggin' thing out of my head.I write to sleep sometimes. It sounds stupid, but it's true. So here you have the WORST Fire Emblem fic ever.Why? Because by its nature I would have to retell the story of the game, and I find that to be so incredibly boring that I actually bleed from the ears and eyes. Well, not REALLY, but it does sound pretty goddamn boring. So I warn you up front... I am doing a MINIMUM of research into this, because while I dearly love the game, it's tactical mechanic and the exact purpose of a tactician is sketchy at best, from a military standpoint. What I'm going to do is loosely base this story off of the game's plot, keeping the characters as IN character as possible, and in all other cases, make shit up.Is this going to annoy some people? Yes. Hence the Author's Note. If you find yourself getting offended by my loose canon and handling of a cherished game, then get the hell outta my life. Don't read it if it bothers you, and don't harp on about a detail I'm WARNING you about in the first place.That's kinda like bitching at a claymore mine for blowing your arm off when it clearly states THIS end points at the enemy.The purpose of criticism is to show the writer a problem with his story and attempt to get him to change it, and since I KNOW about this problem and have no intention of changing it, as it would defeat the purpose of writing it in the first place, you criticism would serve no purpose.If it's on any other topic, please PLEASE review and let me know. I'm a big boy, I can take criticism, and I actually appreciate and will email back people who give me constructive criticism, believe me, you're doin' me a favor.Will it be boring? God I friggin' hope not. I'd like to think the Tactician I'm choosing to create here is an interesting soul, and that my handling of certain... implied situations in the story will amuse and entertain you. So that being said, enough of my ranting. Enjoy the show!"You know your days are numbered. Count them one by one. Like notches in the handle of an outlaw's gun. You can outrun the Devil if you try... but you will never outrun the hands of time. In time, there will surely come a day. In time, all things shall pass away. In time, you may come back some say... To live once more, or die once more. But in time, your time will be no more." -Mark Collie, In TimeQuit staring like an idiot and sit down. I'm perfectly aware that you've been spending a lot of gold looking for me, and believe me, if I didn't want you to find me, I wouldn't be found. What's with the look? Come on... you can't tell me you spent all that time looking for someone and you don't even have an inkling of who it is you're looking for? If you aren't convinced I am the one you seek then please be gone and quit wasting my time. While I have an abundance of it of late, I'm not overly fond of time. It's a cruel mistress. It lines the face, dulls the memory, fades even the most brilliantly colored flower into dust.Eh? Oh... I can see by the look on your face that you feel one so young should not be speaking of time as though he were already feeling the sting of it. Well kid, yes, I'm calling you kid, looks can be deceiving. I've been up and down the length and breadth of this country more times than I can count, I've seen more wars... more battles than any man probably should, buried friends... but Hell, it's all in the past.Still skeptical, huh? Well if you would draw your attention to the cloak currently gracing the back of my chair, you will note, travel-stains and... other indignities aside, that it is the gold and green of a member of the Tactician's Guild, and a Master at that. They certainly don't give those out for free... it takes years to earn one. Some never do in a whole lifetime. I earned mine in five years. Five years of blood and sweat, and fear of failure...Of course, since you've been seeking me, I'm sure you've heard that story. About the mysterious Tactician, who served both the Lady Lyndis, and the Lord Eliwood, who helped bring down the threat to the kingdoms, then disappeared without a trace. Yes, that was me. My Name is Vann. Not Master Vann, not Tactician Vann, just Vann. If there is one thing I've learned, it's that arrogance is as sure a killer as sword, spear, or axe, and I'll be damned if I'll give my enemies the satisfaction of seeing me fall flat on my face simply because I started putting on airs. So Vann it is, and you've found me, so ask your questions and be done with it. A ship is sailing on the morrow, and I plan to be on it.Another tale seeker, eh? Well I'm not exactly the person you want to ask about all that. I wasn't involved in the direct clash of arms you see... any Tactician who loses his cool and allows himself to be drawn into the fighting can't direct the fight very well, and then said tactician will undoubtedly find himself sans cool AND head. Not to mention, arms training has never been a part of the Guild's curriculum, if you catch my meaning. If you want the grisly details, I'd suggest seeking an audience with the Lord Eliwood, or Lord Hector... hell, even... Lady Lyndis, though that's quite a hike. They aren't at all unapproachable, and if it would help you, I'll give you a token to prove you came from me...Eh? So you've already asked them? Well then why are you... oh. I see. Still wouldn't talk about that part, huh? Well... I suppose Eliwood clammed up when the subject came up, Hector looked at you blankly... and Lyndis... what was her reaction, pray tell? No... never mind. I don't want to know. That chapter of my life is closed.You want to know why I left, and why I play such a small part in the story? That's how legends are, kid. People want to know how such and such vanquished umpty-squat, how the valiant Lord Eliwood defeated the Black Fang, with the help of his noble companions, brave men and women dedicated to the people's welfare, champions all. No one wants to hear about the Tactician Vann, who directed them to move at this time, strike at this point, and the ulcer producing wait while they did as he asked, praying that it all held together, just one more time, that this time he wouldn't be told that Florina got shot down by archers, or Sain got his fool head blasted off by a stray Thunder spell, and that it was your fault...Ok... sorry about that. I carried that particular point a bit farther than was strictly necessary. I guess there is a bit of bitterness in it for me... you see, all is well that ends well, but it didn't really, not for me. It ties into the reason why I'm not in Lycia or Pherian right now.Well I suppose since you're buyin' kid, it would be rude of me to leave you high and dry, so to speak. I owe you a bit of an explanation. A word to the wise though, it be wouldn't appreciated if this story got out, so you'd best keep it to yourself, you savvy? Lyndis, Eliwood, all of them... if you have any respect for them, let sleeping dogs lie. I'm not bitter, and it was no one's fault, save mine. For what it's worth, I regret alot of things, but one thing I do not regret is the part I played, regardless of how painful it may have become.It all started 7 years ago, when a certain young journeyman tactician was making his fool way across the Sacaen desert. A chance meeting, and history begins to unfold...----------------------------------------So I started this little journey with a caravan on its way to Lycia, across the desert. A Tactician makes his way as he can, earning his keep by directing forces to victory, but as the kingdom I had frequented in the past was disgustingly peaceful, there was nothing for it but to make my way to more... appropriate climes. I had heard a rumor about a conflict brewing in the North, so with what little fundage I was able to scavenge from the meager leavings of my tuition and a head full of grand strategy, I bought my way onto Master Gorbash's merchant caravan. I should have paid a lot more attention to the manner of person I was traveling with, but being young and a bit naive, having spent the better part of my young adulthood in the lofty world of move and countermove, sweeping charge and leapfrog attack and what have you, I missed the obvious clues that even a blind man should have caught. Needless to say, a fool and his money are soon parted, and Gorbash, being a cunning and treacherous man (not to mention a repeat offender) was more than willing to oblige me. I found myself without coinage or property, with nothing but the clothing on my back, in the middle of the most God forsaken desert this side of Sacae. Here's a bit of trivia for you, a man without food and water can travel for about three days before he starts seeing things, and perhaps, if he is fit, bred for such conditions, or too damn stubborn to know he's beaten, for a few more days before his time is up.I lasted for five. Guess which of the above best describes me.That was a rhetorical question, smart ass. Who's telling this story, you or me? Alright then.Anyway, as I was saying, here I am flat on my face in burning hot sand, thinking here's a fine mess I've gotten myself into, and why the hell didn't the Tactician's field manual say anything about this, when I hear something approaching from the north. With herculean effort, I managed my best defensive stance (which at this point amounted to lifting my head up a bit and trying in vain to focus on the blue and grey blur that was making it's way toward me) before everything got very distant, and darkness claimed me.I imagined I heard the flapping of wings nearby, and thought, well at least I'll make a good meal for something.I distinctly remember hoping it would choke on me.Then I didn't think for a long time.------------------------------------------------Coming to came as a pleasant surprise for me, but the last thing I expected to see, aside from perhaps the pearly gates if you know what I mean, was the inside of a... well I suppose calling it well appointed would be stretching the limits of my credibility, but I hesitate to call anything of Lyndis' shabby... hmm, let us say "comfortable" and be done with it. Comfortable Sacaen dwelling, complete with hand woven rugs and tapestries. Dabbing my forehead with cool cloth and calloused hand no stranger to hard labor, was a pretty young girl with flowing blueish black hair. There was a no-nonsense honesty about her, and as I struggled to come to terms with my current surroundings, she spoke."Well met Tactician, though I question the wisdom of a man traveling alone, weaponless and without water in the middle of the desert."Ah Lyndis. Blunt, honest Lyndis. She's been that way ever since I've known her, and becoming a Lady hasn't changed her a bit. It's what I... like about her.What? Interrupting me again? No? Well let me continue, then. Thank you.Well needless to say, having just woken up and recovering from a severe case of heatstroke, I wasn't at my conversational best, but I think I managed to mumble something about the caravan and my name. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, depending on who you ask, I was spared any further embarassment by the sound of screams and the crash of splintering wood and tearing canvas. Lyndis looked me over quickly, her gaze hard and appraising, then grabbed a thin, curved sheathed sword off of a nearby stand and slid it into into her sash. She paused at the entrance of the tent, looking back."Stay here, traveler. You are in no condition to fight. I will return shortly."I eased into a crosslegged sitting position and eyed her critically. I'd trained with swordsmen before, I recognized the gait and the callouses on the hands, but judging from the sounds outside, there were several armed men, and this was only one girl.She must have caught my gaze because her mouth tightened into a thin line."I can fight. You need not fear."I raised an eyebrow at her. A bit touchy, are we?"I didn't accuse you of anything, Miss-?"She looked irritated, like she wanted to be off. "Lyn. I have to-""I am a Tactician, Lyn. I can help you. If you're not too proud to accept it, that is."She narrowed her eyes, then her face eased. "Now is not the time to argue. If you can help, do so. I must leave."I nodded, and she quickly departed. I took a deep breath, let it out, then assumed the Battle Trance.-------------------------------------------------------Now I'm about to get technical on you, so please don't interrupt. A lot of people don't have the slightest clue what it is a Tactician does, and I can see from your vacant expression that you're one of them. I'm going to explain what it is we do, so that there won't be any confusion when I tell you how the battle played out.A Tactician doesn't just advise the participants of the battle then send them out into the fray while he waits comfortably. Anyone can plan a strategy, that's what a general is for. Unfortunately conditions change on the battlefield quickly, and unless one has an excellent means of battlefield communication, one will miss opportunities or be unable to react to sudden shifts in the battle, and then one is in a world of shit.That's why having a Tactician on your side is so overwhelmingly advantageous.Not only does a Tactician have to pass several years of rigerous strategic and logistical training, there is also one very simple yet incredibly vital addition to the Tactician's repetoire that makes him so versatile.The Battle Trance.With the Trance, a Tactician frees himself from the confines of his body and gets an overview of the battlefield. I'll explain how this works. Each participant of a battle is concentrating on that battle, almost to the exclusion of all else. This intense concentration forms a link... a sort of gestaltic mind meld between combatants that a trained Tactician can tap into. Through it, he sees the battlefield as a whole, not just from one set of eyes, and furthermore, if the participants are willing, he can send them messages, as well as receive them. What this means is a leader who can react instantly to a change on the battlefield, setting up formations that change and react just as quickly.Which is why people pay us so bloody much.Usually.--------------------------------------------------------Needless to say, Lyn was extremely surprised when I showed up on her mind's doorstep.-Lyn, are you receiving me?- I sent. This was the first time I'd ever used the Battle Trance in actual battle, and I was relieved to find that it was no more difficult than during training.-What the!? Who is... Vann? Is that you?- Surprise colored her mental voice.-Yeah, it's me. What were you expecting?--I... nevermind. So you truely ARE a Tactician!--Was there ever any doubt?- At her embarassed hesitation I scoffed. -Naw, don't answer that. We're both a little new to this, so any input you have would be appreciated. You fight your best, and I'll try not to get you killed, ok?--Why thank you, Vann. I'll try not to let you down.- Her mental voice was dry, and full of sarcasm.I searched and was able to locate three... no four men methodically rampaging their way through the village of tents. They had the look of brutish thugs with ill fitting, poorly kempt armor, and carrying notched and ill cared for axes, probably brigands of some sort. There was one who moved a bit less clumsily and was barking orders and pointing the others crudely into position. I figured he was the leader, and judging from the size of his biceps and the way he was splitting up his forces, more because he could beat the crap out of any challengers to his authority than any real tactical genius. I located Lyn as she crept around a tent, her hand on her still sheathed sword's hilt.-Lyn?-She stopped. -That's... very disconcerting.--Sorry. Listen, there's four of them. They don't look too skilled, but they aren't looting and pillaging, it's like... they're looking for something.--The Lorca tribe is not wealthy... what is there to search for?- She sounded curious, but also slightly sad.-I dunno, but I guess it doesn't matter much. Listen, there's one headed in your direction. He's on the other side of that tent you're hiding behind. When I say now, you come around that side swinging. He'll never know what hit him, and with any luck, neither will his buddies.--How do you KNOW all of this?- She said, somewhat shocked.-Look, I don't have time to explain this to you... you either trust me on this, that the situation is as I say it is, and do what I say, or you go it your own way, and good luck to you.- I was a bit exasperated. The soldiers I'd trained with had never questioned my abilities, and it stung. Of course, she was a nomad, not a soldier hired to work directly for the Guild, but I didn't think of that at the time.-I trust you, Vann.- She said confidently. The way she said it, that self-assured, I-leave-it-to-you confidence that so typifies Lyndis, warmed me considerably. I decided then and there that I was never going to let this girl down.Ever.The thug was easing his way around the tent, his hard gaze flicking this way and that. He held his axe in the ready position, but he spent a majority of his time looking in the wrong direction.Closer to Lyn, he crept... the swordswoman must have sensed something, because she glanced up at thin air questioningly, her grip tightening on her sword hilt.-Wait... almost...-Closer. She definately heard him now. She gritted her teeth. A single drop of sweat slid down the side of her face and glistened on the point of her chin.-Almost...-He looked up, confused, as though he sensed something, and then stepped closer...-NOW!-I may not have mentioned this, but when it comes to swordsmanship, even then, Lyndis was in a class all her own. She doesn't bother to belt it out with someone toe to toe, that's just not her style. I mean, she's strong, and looks are definately deceiving in her case, but she just can't match the burly strength of most of the male wielders of the blade, so she doesn't bother. What she's got, and in spades, is speed and agility, and all the strength in the world isn't going to save you if you can't hit someone. Fighting Lyndis is like trying to fight smoke. In a flash that girl struck around that corner, so goddamn fast that the drop of sweat that finally fell from her chin hadn't even hit the ground before the sword cleared sheath.Nor had it hit when she drove her blade fully into his chest. The look of utter surprise and shock on her face would have been comical, if the situation hadn't been so serious.Of course, she wasn't QUITE as surprised as the bandit in question, though suddenly sprouting four feet of steel in the center of your chest like magic'll do that to you.He groaned and the axe slid from his nerveless fingers, then he kinda slid off the blade and crumpled to the ground, still.Lyndis stared at him in shock, her sword dripping blood. It suddenly occurred to me that this was probably the first time she'd ever killed a man.That... made me feel guilty for some reason, but I shook it off quicker than she did.-Good job, Lyn.- I said.-I-I killed him.-She thought numbly.-Yup, terrible tragedy and all, but there are more of them.-She got angry, and that immediately broke through the wall of her shock. She frowned, then flicked her blade free of blood and sheathed it. -How can you be so cold?--Look, it's not that I don't care, it's just that at this point, it's either you or them, and if you hesitate, it'll be you. I for one, don't care for that eventuality.-Her anger faded. -I suppose you're right, Vann. It's just...- She shook her head, and her eyes hardened. -Never mind. What now?------------------------------------------------------I suppose I could give you the blow by blow of what transpired next, but it was really only more of the same. Lyndis moved at my direction, and waylaid those poor bastards before they really knew what hit them. Of course, using the same tactic over and over again is bound to catch up to you, but I've never been one to fix what ain't broke, if you catch my meaning. Still Lyn was a little surprised when the last bastard parried her sword with his axe, but she reacted admirably enough, dodging desperately back from his wild backswing just in time.Only, not quite. Red pattered into the dust at her feet, and she put a hand to the wound in her side, slightly crouched around the pain, but still in a fighting stance.-Shit! Lyn! Are you alright?--I-I'll live.-The jerk grinned and instead of advancing on her, leaned his axe against his shoulder and spat."So, you're the one who all this fuss is about? You don't look like much. Just a scrap of a girl, holdin' up a pretty sword, pretendin' ta be a man, eh?"Her eyes glittered dangerously, and he laughed."Ha. Didn't like that comment, didja? Well yer gonna like this even less girlie. HAARR!"With that, he swung a mighty downward blow, right at her head. I had visions of her raising her blade to block his brutal strike and having it split in twain, right along with her, and a startled "NO!" escaped me.Except Lyn had other plans. Suddenly she just wasn't THERE, and the axe bit deeply into the dirt.The Axeman looked confused.Then he looked scared when he realized she had her sword against his throat. He began to sweat.-How?-"How?"My startled thought and his equally startled word left at the same time. This might have been the reason that Lyn grinned coldly.Or she might have just been enjoying herself."I don't know, cur." She said sweetly. "I find this situation at least marginally amusing."He growled."None of that, brigand. Now, why did you attack this village? The Lorca is a poor tribe, we have nothing you want."He grinned then, even behind his fear, and shrugged. "This is what we were hired to do, girl. As to what we want here..."-Lyndis, he's gonna try something.-She frowned."It's YOU-" He roared, preparing to lift his axe.Lyndis just twitched her blade slightly, then stepped away, flicking the blood away before sheathing it.The headless body of a very surprised brigand stood for a moment later, then collapsed to the ground, spouting blood.---------------------------------------------------------------"Ow." She hissed."Be still." I warned, applying the bandage to her ribs. The cut wasn't bad, but it had bled, and safe was better than sorry. Among the curriculum of the Guild is some first aid training, and I was applying this, somewhat gingerly, to my companion.I tried not to think of the smooth skin I was applying the bandage to.Apparently she was too, judging from the blush on her."That was... amazing, Lyn." I said, trying to get both our minds off of the situation."T-thank you, Vann. My father began my blades training when I was a child.""Well if I ever meet him, I'll shake the man's hand. That swordplay of yours saved our bacon."She looked down, sadness creeping over her features. I blinked."Lyn... what's wrong?""My father is... dead. My mother as well."Aw shit. I really had a knack for putting my foot in it. "Oh.. I'm... sorry, Lyn."She smiled faintly. "It's alright, Vann. You couldn't have known." She looked down. "It's just... I've been thinking a lot about them, since it happened. Men like those we fought today killed them, and I can't help but see a connection between the two incidents."I nodded, closing the Vulunerary case absently. "Yeah, they were definately here for you. But why?"She frowned. "I don't know, but I intend to find out, Vann."I nodded.She grinned at me. "I couldn't have done it today without you, master Tactician. That is truely an amazing ability you have."Now it was my turn to blush. "Well, I spent enough damn money learning it... so it'd better be worth SOMETHING."She turned serious. "Vann, I have a request of you."I blinked. "What is it?"She looked down. "Take me with you, on your journey. I may be inexperienced, but I'll work hard, and with your skills as a Tactician, there is no force we cannot overcome." The determination on her face was amazing, I found myself staring at her in awe. There is a force of personality about Lyndis... let me tell you, you can't help but admire someone who so blatantly wears their heart on their sleeve, and yet still manages to be a leader. It's what makes her men so willing to follow her to hell and back.You can't help but love Lyndis... at least a little.Or in some cases...Well... anyway. She must have taken my hesitation for a bad sign, because she took my hand. She looked into my eyes."I need this, Vann. I must become stronger, so that I can avenge my parents' murder. Please help me."How could I say no to that?"Lyn, I swear." I said roughly. "Where ever I go, you'll be there."She smiled, her eyes shining."At least, until you get sick of me." I said reasonably, trying to ease the seriousness of the moment.She noticed that she'd taken my hand at this point and jerked back in shock, embarassing us both. We laughed at that."So it's settled, then." She stood and struck a mock serious, overly exaggerated valiant pose. "From hence forth, you shall be the brilliant Tactician, and I shall be your valiant knight. Honor and glory shall be ours for the taking." She bowed gracefully from the waist."Right." I snorted. "I'd settle for just not getting us both killed."She giggled. "Just so, Vann. Just so."And... that's how it all began. Things were simple then. They were about to get a whole hell of a lot more complicated.First, however, it's time for the next round. Telling stories is a mighty thirsty business.Of course you're buying!-----------------------------------------------
Mightier Than the Sword
By: Dust Traveller
I was there, kid. I'd like to think I did the best I could. Tacticians aren't supposed to care too much about the units they command. I guess I've never been too good at that part, especially where she was concerned. And so our tale begins.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Romance - Words: 5,143 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 1 - Published: 8/5/2004 - id: 1998181
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Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten
A/N: READ THIS AS IT CONTAINS A DIRE WARNING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! ABOUT THE WARNING. YEAH.What the hell am I doing?!Believe me people, I ask this question every day. My writing method is horribly haphazard, I have the worst writing work ethic you could imagine, and I'll probably never finish half of the stories I start.So why another goddamn fic?Simple. My muse isn't so much a source of inspiration as she is a source of insomnia. An idea for a story will insert itself into my brain at 2 in the morning, and then I won't be able to find rest nor peace until I get the friggin' thing out of my head.I write to sleep sometimes. It sounds stupid, but it's true. So here you have the WORST Fire Emblem fic ever.Why? Because by its nature I would have to retell the story of the game, and I find that to be so incredibly boring that I actually bleed from the ears and eyes. Well, not REALLY, but it does sound pretty goddamn boring. So I warn you up front... I am doing a MINIMUM of research into this, because while I dearly love the game, it's tactical mechanic and the exact purpose of a tactician is sketchy at best, from a military standpoint. What I'm going to do is loosely base this story off of the game's plot, keeping the characters as IN character as possible, and in all other cases, make shit up.Is this going to annoy some people? Yes. Hence the Author's Note. If you find yourself getting offended by my loose canon and handling of a cherished game, then get the hell outta my life. Don't read it if it bothers you, and don't harp on about a detail I'm WARNING you about in the first place.That's kinda like bitching at a claymore mine for blowing your arm off when it clearly states THIS end points at the enemy.The purpose of criticism is to show the writer a problem with his story and attempt to get him to change it, and since I KNOW about this problem and have no intention of changing it, as it would defeat the purpose of writing it in the first place, you criticism would serve no purpose.If it's on any other topic, please PLEASE review and let me know. I'm a big boy, I can take criticism, and I actually appreciate and will email back people who give me constructive criticism, believe me, you're doin' me a favor.Will it be boring? God I friggin' hope not. I'd like to think the Tactician I'm choosing to create here is an interesting soul, and that my handling of certain... implied situations in the story will amuse and entertain you. So that being said, enough of my ranting. Enjoy the show!"You know your days are numbered. Count them one by one. Like notches in the handle of an outlaw's gun. You can outrun the Devil if you try... but you will never outrun the hands of time. In time, there will surely come a day. In time, all things shall pass away. In time, you may come back some say... To live once more, or die once more. But in time, your time will be no more." -Mark Collie, In TimeQuit staring like an idiot and sit down. I'm perfectly aware that you've been spending a lot of gold looking for me, and believe me, if I didn't want you to find me, I wouldn't be found. What's with the look? Come on... you can't tell me you spent all that time looking for someone and you don't even have an inkling of who it is you're looking for? If you aren't convinced I am the one you seek then please be gone and quit wasting my time. While I have an abundance of it of late, I'm not overly fond of time. It's a cruel mistress. It lines the face, dulls the memory, fades even the most brilliantly colored flower into dust.Eh? Oh... I can see by the look on your face that you feel one so young should not be speaking of time as though he were already feeling the sting of it. Well kid, yes, I'm calling you kid, looks can be deceiving. I've been up and down the length and breadth of this country more times than I can count, I've seen more wars... more battles than any man probably should, buried friends... but Hell, it's all in the past.Still skeptical, huh? Well if you would draw your attention to the cloak currently gracing the back of my chair, you will note, travel-stains and... other indignities aside, that it is the gold and green of a member of the Tactician's Guild, and a Master at that. They certainly don't give those out for free... it takes years to earn one. Some never do in a whole lifetime. I earned mine in five years. Five years of blood and sweat, and fear of failure...Of course, since you've been seeking me, I'm sure you've heard that story. About the mysterious Tactician, who served both the Lady Lyndis, and the Lord Eliwood, who helped bring down the threat to the kingdoms, then disappeared without a trace. Yes, that was me. My Name is Vann. Not Master Vann, not Tactician Vann, just Vann. If there is one thing I've learned, it's that arrogance is as sure a killer as sword, spear, or axe, and I'll be damned if I'll give my enemies the satisfaction of seeing me fall flat on my face simply because I started putting on airs. So Vann it is, and you've found me, so ask your questions and be done with it. A ship is sailing on the morrow, and I plan to be on it.Another tale seeker, eh? Well I'm not exactly the person you want to ask about all that. I wasn't involved in the direct clash of arms you see... any Tactician who loses his cool and allows himself to be drawn into the fighting can't direct the fight very well, and then said tactician will undoubtedly find himself sans cool AND head. Not to mention, arms training has never been a part of the Guild's curriculum, if you catch my meaning. If you want the grisly details, I'd suggest seeking an audience with the Lord Eliwood, or Lord Hector... hell, even... Lady Lyndis, though that's quite a hike. They aren't at all unapproachable, and if it would help you, I'll give you a token to prove you came from me...Eh? So you've already asked them? Well then why are you... oh. I see. Still wouldn't talk about that part, huh? Well... I suppose Eliwood clammed up when the subject came up, Hector looked at you blankly... and Lyndis... what was her reaction, pray tell? No... never mind. I don't want to know. That chapter of my life is closed.You want to know why I left, and why I play such a small part in the story? That's how legends are, kid. People want to know how such and such vanquished umpty-squat, how the valiant Lord Eliwood defeated the Black Fang, with the help of his noble companions, brave men and women dedicated to the people's welfare, champions all. No one wants to hear about the Tactician Vann, who directed them to move at this time, strike at this point, and the ulcer producing wait while they did as he asked, praying that it all held together, just one more time, that this time he wouldn't be told that Florina got shot down by archers, or Sain got his fool head blasted off by a stray Thunder spell, and that it was your fault...Ok... sorry about that. I carried that particular point a bit farther than was strictly necessary. I guess there is a bit of bitterness in it for me... you see, all is well that ends well, but it didn't really, not for me. It ties into the reason why I'm not in Lycia or Pherian right now.Well I suppose since you're buyin' kid, it would be rude of me to leave you high and dry, so to speak. I owe you a bit of an explanation. A word to the wise though, it be wouldn't appreciated if this story got out, so you'd best keep it to yourself, you savvy? Lyndis, Eliwood, all of them... if you have any respect for them, let sleeping dogs lie. I'm not bitter, and it was no one's fault, save mine. For what it's worth, I regret alot of things, but one thing I do not regret is the part I played, regardless of how painful it may have become.It all started 7 years ago, when a certain young journeyman tactician was making his fool way across the Sacaen desert. A chance meeting, and history begins to unfold...----------------------------------------So I started this little journey with a caravan on its way to Lycia, across the desert. A Tactician makes his way as he can, earning his keep by directing forces to victory, but as the kingdom I had frequented in the past was disgustingly peaceful, there was nothing for it but to make my way to more... appropriate climes. I had heard a rumor about a conflict brewing in the North, so with what little fundage I was able to scavenge from the meager leavings of my tuition and a head full of grand strategy, I bought my way onto Master Gorbash's merchant caravan. I should have paid a lot more attention to the manner of person I was traveling with, but being young and a bit naive, having spent the better part of my young adulthood in the lofty world of move and countermove, sweeping charge and leapfrog attack and what have you, I missed the obvious clues that even a blind man should have caught. Needless to say, a fool and his money are soon parted, and Gorbash, being a cunning and treacherous man (not to mention a repeat offender) was more than willing to oblige me. I found myself without coinage or property, with nothing but the clothing on my back, in the middle of the most God forsaken desert this side of Sacae. Here's a bit of trivia for you, a man without food and water can travel for about three days before he starts seeing things, and perhaps, if he is fit, bred for such conditions, or too damn stubborn to know he's beaten, for a few more days before his time is up.I lasted for five. Guess which of the above best describes me.That was a rhetorical question, smart ass. Who's telling this story, you or me? Alright then.Anyway, as I was saying, here I am flat on my face in burning hot sand, thinking here's a fine mess I've gotten myself into, and why the hell didn't the Tactician's field manual say anything about this, when I hear something approaching from the north. With herculean effort, I managed my best defensive stance (which at this point amounted to lifting my head up a bit and trying in vain to focus on the blue and grey blur that was making it's way toward me) before everything got very distant, and darkness claimed me.I imagined I heard the flapping of wings nearby, and thought, well at least I'll make a good meal for something.I distinctly remember hoping it would choke on me.Then I didn't think for a long time.------------------------------------------------Coming to came as a pleasant surprise for me, but the last thing I expected to see, aside from perhaps the pearly gates if you know what I mean, was the inside of a... well I suppose calling it well appointed would be stretching the limits of my credibility, but I hesitate to call anything of Lyndis' shabby... hmm, let us say "comfortable" and be done with it. Comfortable Sacaen dwelling, complete with hand woven rugs and tapestries. Dabbing my forehead with cool cloth and calloused hand no stranger to hard labor, was a pretty young girl with flowing blueish black hair. There was a no-nonsense honesty about her, and as I struggled to come to terms with my current surroundings, she spoke."Well met Tactician, though I question the wisdom of a man traveling alone, weaponless and without water in the middle of the desert."Ah Lyndis. Blunt, honest Lyndis. She's been that way ever since I've known her, and becoming a Lady hasn't changed her a bit. It's what I... like about her.What? Interrupting me again? No? Well let me continue, then. Thank you.Well needless to say, having just woken up and recovering from a severe case of heatstroke, I wasn't at my conversational best, but I think I managed to mumble something about the caravan and my name. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, depending on who you ask, I was spared any further embarassment by the sound of screams and the crash of splintering wood and tearing canvas. Lyndis looked me over quickly, her gaze hard and appraising, then grabbed a thin, curved sheathed sword off of a nearby stand and slid it into into her sash. She paused at the entrance of the tent, looking back."Stay here, traveler. You are in no condition to fight. I will return shortly."I eased into a crosslegged sitting position and eyed her critically. I'd trained with swordsmen before, I recognized the gait and the callouses on the hands, but judging from the sounds outside, there were several armed men, and this was only one girl.She must have caught my gaze because her mouth tightened into a thin line."I can fight. You need not fear."I raised an eyebrow at her. A bit touchy, are we?"I didn't accuse you of anything, Miss-?"She looked irritated, like she wanted to be off. "Lyn. I have to-""I am a Tactician, Lyn. I can help you. If you're not too proud to accept it, that is."She narrowed her eyes, then her face eased. "Now is not the time to argue. If you can help, do so. I must leave."I nodded, and she quickly departed. I took a deep breath, let it out, then assumed the Battle Trance.-------------------------------------------------------Now I'm about to get technical on you, so please don't interrupt. A lot of people don't have the slightest clue what it is a Tactician does, and I can see from your vacant expression that you're one of them. I'm going to explain what it is we do, so that there won't be any confusion when I tell you how the battle played out.A Tactician doesn't just advise the participants of the battle then send them out into the fray while he waits comfortably. Anyone can plan a strategy, that's what a general is for. Unfortunately conditions change on the battlefield quickly, and unless one has an excellent means of battlefield communication, one will miss opportunities or be unable to react to sudden shifts in the battle, and then one is in a world of shit.That's why having a Tactician on your side is so overwhelmingly advantageous.Not only does a Tactician have to pass several years of rigerous strategic and logistical training, there is also one very simple yet incredibly vital addition to the Tactician's repetoire that makes him so versatile.The Battle Trance.With the Trance, a Tactician frees himself from the confines of his body and gets an overview of the battlefield. I'll explain how this works. Each participant of a battle is concentrating on that battle, almost to the exclusion of all else. This intense concentration forms a link... a sort of gestaltic mind meld between combatants that a trained Tactician can tap into. Through it, he sees the battlefield as a whole, not just from one set of eyes, and furthermore, if the participants are willing, he can send them messages, as well as receive them. What this means is a leader who can react instantly to a change on the battlefield, setting up formations that change and react just as quickly.Which is why people pay us so bloody much.Usually.--------------------------------------------------------Needless to say, Lyn was extremely surprised when I showed up on her mind's doorstep.-Lyn, are you receiving me?- I sent. This was the first time I'd ever used the Battle Trance in actual battle, and I was relieved to find that it was no more difficult than during training.-What the!? Who is... Vann? Is that you?- Surprise colored her mental voice.-Yeah, it's me. What were you expecting?--I... nevermind. So you truely ARE a Tactician!--Was there ever any doubt?- At her embarassed hesitation I scoffed. -Naw, don't answer that. We're both a little new to this, so any input you have would be appreciated. You fight your best, and I'll try not to get you killed, ok?--Why thank you, Vann. I'll try not to let you down.- Her mental voice was dry, and full of sarcasm.I searched and was able to locate three... no four men methodically rampaging their way through the village of tents. They had the look of brutish thugs with ill fitting, poorly kempt armor, and carrying notched and ill cared for axes, probably brigands of some sort. There was one who moved a bit less clumsily and was barking orders and pointing the others crudely into position. I figured he was the leader, and judging from the size of his biceps and the way he was splitting up his forces, more because he could beat the crap out of any challengers to his authority than any real tactical genius. I located Lyn as she crept around a tent, her hand on her still sheathed sword's hilt.-Lyn?-She stopped. -That's... very disconcerting.--Sorry. Listen, there's four of them. They don't look too skilled, but they aren't looting and pillaging, it's like... they're looking for something.--The Lorca tribe is not wealthy... what is there to search for?- She sounded curious, but also slightly sad.-I dunno, but I guess it doesn't matter much. Listen, there's one headed in your direction. He's on the other side of that tent you're hiding behind. When I say now, you come around that side swinging. He'll never know what hit him, and with any luck, neither will his buddies.--How do you KNOW all of this?- She said, somewhat shocked.-Look, I don't have time to explain this to you... you either trust me on this, that the situation is as I say it is, and do what I say, or you go it your own way, and good luck to you.- I was a bit exasperated. The soldiers I'd trained with had never questioned my abilities, and it stung. Of course, she was a nomad, not a soldier hired to work directly for the Guild, but I didn't think of that at the time.-I trust you, Vann.- She said confidently. The way she said it, that self-assured, I-leave-it-to-you confidence that so typifies Lyndis, warmed me considerably. I decided then and there that I was never going to let this girl down.Ever.The thug was easing his way around the tent, his hard gaze flicking this way and that. He held his axe in the ready position, but he spent a majority of his time looking in the wrong direction.Closer to Lyn, he crept... the swordswoman must have sensed something, because she glanced up at thin air questioningly, her grip tightening on her sword hilt.-Wait... almost...-Closer. She definately heard him now. She gritted her teeth. A single drop of sweat slid down the side of her face and glistened on the point of her chin.-Almost...-He looked up, confused, as though he sensed something, and then stepped closer...-NOW!-I may not have mentioned this, but when it comes to swordsmanship, even then, Lyndis was in a class all her own. She doesn't bother to belt it out with someone toe to toe, that's just not her style. I mean, she's strong, and looks are definately deceiving in her case, but she just can't match the burly strength of most of the male wielders of the blade, so she doesn't bother. What she's got, and in spades, is speed and agility, and all the strength in the world isn't going to save you if you can't hit someone. Fighting Lyndis is like trying to fight smoke. In a flash that girl struck around that corner, so goddamn fast that the drop of sweat that finally fell from her chin hadn't even hit the ground before the sword cleared sheath.Nor had it hit when she drove her blade fully into his chest. The look of utter surprise and shock on her face would have been comical, if the situation hadn't been so serious.Of course, she wasn't QUITE as surprised as the bandit in question, though suddenly sprouting four feet of steel in the center of your chest like magic'll do that to you.He groaned and the axe slid from his nerveless fingers, then he kinda slid off the blade and crumpled to the ground, still.Lyndis stared at him in shock, her sword dripping blood. It suddenly occurred to me that this was probably the first time she'd ever killed a man.That... made me feel guilty for some reason, but I shook it off quicker than she did.-Good job, Lyn.- I said.-I-I killed him.-She thought numbly.-Yup, terrible tragedy and all, but there are more of them.-She got angry, and that immediately broke through the wall of her shock. She frowned, then flicked her blade free of blood and sheathed it. -How can you be so cold?--Look, it's not that I don't care, it's just that at this point, it's either you or them, and if you hesitate, it'll be you. I for one, don't care for that eventuality.-Her anger faded. -I suppose you're right, Vann. It's just...- She shook her head, and her eyes hardened. -Never mind. What now?------------------------------------------------------I suppose I could give you the blow by blow of what transpired next, but it was really only more of the same. Lyndis moved at my direction, and waylaid those poor bastards before they really knew what hit them. Of course, using the same tactic over and over again is bound to catch up to you, but I've never been one to fix what ain't broke, if you catch my meaning. Still Lyn was a little surprised when the last bastard parried her sword with his axe, but she reacted admirably enough, dodging desperately back from his wild backswing just in time.Only, not quite. Red pattered into the dust at her feet, and she put a hand to the wound in her side, slightly crouched around the pain, but still in a fighting stance.-Shit! Lyn! Are you alright?--I-I'll live.-The jerk grinned and instead of advancing on her, leaned his axe against his shoulder and spat."So, you're the one who all this fuss is about? You don't look like much. Just a scrap of a girl, holdin' up a pretty sword, pretendin' ta be a man, eh?"Her eyes glittered dangerously, and he laughed."Ha. Didn't like that comment, didja? Well yer gonna like this even less girlie. HAARR!"With that, he swung a mighty downward blow, right at her head. I had visions of her raising her blade to block his brutal strike and having it split in twain, right along with her, and a startled "NO!" escaped me.Except Lyn had other plans. Suddenly she just wasn't THERE, and the axe bit deeply into the dirt.The Axeman looked confused.Then he looked scared when he realized she had her sword against his throat. He began to sweat.-How?-"How?"My startled thought and his equally startled word left at the same time. This might have been the reason that Lyn grinned coldly.Or she might have just been enjoying herself."I don't know, cur." She said sweetly. "I find this situation at least marginally amusing."He growled."None of that, brigand. Now, why did you attack this village? The Lorca is a poor tribe, we have nothing you want."He grinned then, even behind his fear, and shrugged. "This is what we were hired to do, girl. As to what we want here..."-Lyndis, he's gonna try something.-She frowned."It's YOU-" He roared, preparing to lift his axe.Lyndis just twitched her blade slightly, then stepped away, flicking the blood away before sheathing it.The headless body of a very surprised brigand stood for a moment later, then collapsed to the ground, spouting blood.---------------------------------------------------------------"Ow." She hissed."Be still." I warned, applying the bandage to her ribs. The cut wasn't bad, but it had bled, and safe was better than sorry. Among the curriculum of the Guild is some first aid training, and I was applying this, somewhat gingerly, to my companion.I tried not to think of the smooth skin I was applying the bandage to.Apparently she was too, judging from the blush on her."That was... amazing, Lyn." I said, trying to get both our minds off of the situation."T-thank you, Vann. My father began my blades training when I was a child.""Well if I ever meet him, I'll shake the man's hand. That swordplay of yours saved our bacon."She looked down, sadness creeping over her features. I blinked."Lyn... what's wrong?""My father is... dead. My mother as well."Aw shit. I really had a knack for putting my foot in it. "Oh.. I'm... sorry, Lyn."She smiled faintly. "It's alright, Vann. You couldn't have known." She looked down. "It's just... I've been thinking a lot about them, since it happened. Men like those we fought today killed them, and I can't help but see a connection between the two incidents."I nodded, closing the Vulunerary case absently. "Yeah, they were definately here for you. But why?"She frowned. "I don't know, but I intend to find out, Vann."I nodded.She grinned at me. "I couldn't have done it today without you, master Tactician. That is truely an amazing ability you have."Now it was my turn to blush. "Well, I spent enough damn money learning it... so it'd better be worth SOMETHING."She turned serious. "Vann, I have a request of you."I blinked. "What is it?"She looked down. "Take me with you, on your journey. I may be inexperienced, but I'll work hard, and with your skills as a Tactician, there is no force we cannot overcome." The determination on her face was amazing, I found myself staring at her in awe. There is a force of personality about Lyndis... let me tell you, you can't help but admire someone who so blatantly wears their heart on their sleeve, and yet still manages to be a leader. It's what makes her men so willing to follow her to hell and back.You can't help but love Lyndis... at least a little.Or in some cases...Well... anyway. She must have taken my hesitation for a bad sign, because she took my hand. She looked into my eyes."I need this, Vann. I must become stronger, so that I can avenge my parents' murder. Please help me."How could I say no to that?"Lyn, I swear." I said roughly. "Where ever I go, you'll be there."She smiled, her eyes shining."At least, until you get sick of me." I said reasonably, trying to ease the seriousness of the moment.She noticed that she'd taken my hand at this point and jerked back in shock, embarassing us both. We laughed at that."So it's settled, then." She stood and struck a mock serious, overly exaggerated valiant pose. "From hence forth, you shall be the brilliant Tactician, and I shall be your valiant knight. Honor and glory shall be ours for the taking." She bowed gracefully from the waist."Right." I snorted. "I'd settle for just not getting us both killed."She giggled. "Just so, Vann. Just so."And... that's how it all began. Things were simple then. They were about to get a whole hell of a lot more complicated.First, however, it's time for the next round. Telling stories is a mighty thirsty business.Of course you're buying!-----------------------------------------------
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