Chapter 1 The Meager and the Valiant

Four months latter….

Wind slowly whistled through the bleak ravine, it's hollow and almost haunted tone seeming to echo the mood of those who huddled around the rocks and patches of trees that were scattered around the area. Vermin of all sorts hunched over miniscule campfires, trying in vain to warm paws over barely crackling coals as the chill of the wind swept over them. Many were wounded in one or more ways, make-shift bandages wrapped carelessly over often still bleeding gashes and cuts. The less wounded, those who could still walk, were scattered at intervals around the hills on either side of the ravine, placed there to give warning in case "They" came again. The entire mood of the horde, if it could still be called that, mirrored Vaz Darkeye's current bleary and frustrated state. The rat was a giant among his kind, standing nearly a head taller than any normal rat. His fur was brown and bristly, with odd patches of black dotting his large tree-trunk arms and solid barrel chest. His face was set in stark angles as if cut from stone and scarred horribly by claw marks that stretched all the way down to his neck, as if some great beast had tried to literally claw his face off. His eyes though were what gave him his name, two orbs of odd opposite colors…one black as a torn off patch of night and the other blind and white like the purest of clouds.

Vaz growled slowly to himself as he tore off the last stripes of meat from the leg bone of a lone sparrow that one of the hunters had been lucky enough to bag the previous day. Meat was practically non-existent now, and most any kind of food a pure luxury. Vaz's gut broiled with frustration and rage whenever memories of the reason for the state of his horde came into mind. The reason his mate and children were probably dead by now.

Though it had happened months ago, Vaz remembered clearly. It had just started off as another day like any other, the horde awakening to a new day of spending their time hunting food, preparing for the coming winter, and taking care to make sure none ever entered the mountain valley they called home, at least not enter and live that is.

Vaz did not really consider himself a warlord, since you had to go to war for that purpose. His horde had barely numbered over three hundred, and as such had not been nearly strong enough to fight over territory as the other far larger hordes did. However, the valley Vaz's horde had occupied was well hidden among the mountain passes and with a strong running stream from the mountain peaks and good hunting in the nearby forests Vaz saw little reason to expand beyond the valley's tiny boarders. He had no ambitions to rule great hordes or anything like that, which was in his opinion a waste of time. Why bother when every slack jawed idiot who had a spark of ambition would be out to take your head? Vaz liked a good brawl as much as the next rat but he preferred to not have hundreds of would-be warlords trying to assassinate him. His own little horde had been loyal enough because of the easy life he kept them in. That was changed now that their safe home in the valley was no more, as the scattered remains of his horde numbering no more than fifty now attested to.

On that morning, what felt a lifetime ago to Vaz, "They" came. There was no warning, Vaz remembered, only an odd rumbling that sounded like the coming of thunder only that the ground shook slightly at the same time. Vaz's memory was sketchy but he remembered clearing rushing out of his tent with his massive axe held in one paw and bellowing to know what was going on. His dear mate, Saza, had asked him what was happening from inside the tent while she still rubbed sleep from her eyes, and before he had even time to answer he saw an image that forever would be burned into his mind. As the horde roused itself from slumber, creatures scurrying out of tents into the morning sunlight and looking around in much the same way Vaz had, he saw it. On the ridge on the far end of the valley where the horde camped, countless sparkles of golden light nearly blinded Vaz, before he realized it was just the sun reflecting off steel. This mass of shifting metal moved in neat blocks off the ridge where it appeared and even at that distance Vaz had seen it for what it was.

Hundreds, no, thousands of creatures, all armored in identical shining plate-mail, marching in perfect formations. Marching towards Vaz's horde with sickening speed. Vaz vaguely remembered shouting orders to his horde to abandon the camp and grab what they could and run. His mind's eye saw it all again in crystal clarity as there was a mad rush, vermin grabbing weapons, packs of food, anything they could find, all as that impossible army of creatures in shining metal had continued to descend upon them. In his memory he remembered hearing the awful sound that army made as it marched, a continues rumble of armored foot paws pounding upon the earth, the screeching clank of metal upon metal as ranks of them moved in such perfect unison.

The horde had barely gotten itself prepared before the ranks of armored soldiers got close enough for real detail to be made out. Vaz remembered thinking it so very odd that mice, squirrels, otters, and various other woodlanders all looked so alike when each was clad in identical suits of armor, great things of polished silver steel that bore an odd crest on the shoulders, depictions of a great sunburst pierced by a sword.

Vaz remembered hearing a loud and clear cry from those ranks, a single voice that echoed across the valley.

"Regiment…halt!"

And as one the army had stopped, as if some great puppeteer had pulled his strings and made them each halt their march at precisely the same moment. There had been a frightening silence as those in the horde all seemed to pause as they looked at this army, Vaz remembering seeing more than one terrified face turn to look at him for guidance, including his wife who had been clutching their two newborn children to her chest as if her thin arms might act as shields to protect the little ones. Vaz's memory broke up around that point, but what he did remember last was that the same voice, that same bland toneless commanding voice as it called out again.

"For the glory of the Light! Charge!"

And it was echoed by a thousand voices, each soldier had repeated the command.

"For the glory of the Light! Charge!"

From that point it had been a pure panic as the vermin horde Vaz had called his own scattered under the crushing weight of that army as it spilled forward in one massive wave of blinding steel. Vaz had a pawfull of images after that. Him shouting at Saza to run. That terrible rumbling sound as the army tore through the first lines of vermin. The sight of swords flashing and shrieks of pain as those steel clad monsters started to slaughter any they came across. The image of a ferret no older than a season being run through by a mouse with a face as blank and emotionless as a child's wooden doll. His own axe swirling around him as he tried to fight his way free, to rally his horde to him. Running, so much running, nearly slipping in blood from all the dead. That crest, sunburst pierced by a sword, signifying death and pain.

Vaz snapped back to the present as the leg bone of the sparrow snapped in his clenched paw, the broken end cutting into flesh. The rat cursed to himself as the small wound started to bleed slightly and he threw the bone away in disgust.

He had somehow survived it, running for what felt like hours along with a few other vermin of his horde, fleeing that massacre. It had taken days to track down the broken remains of his horde, finding a group here, a pair or two coming in there. They avoided that army like the plague, but that wasn't hard considering how it acted. It had moved away from the tattered remains of the camp almost immediately after the slaughter had ended, and marched with that frightening synchronization out of the valley and away.

Still, Vaz took no chances and as the numbers that they found or came back began to dwindle he managed to take the time to count their loses. More than two-thirds of the horde dead or missing…there was no need for burials. The army had left a massive fire pit where they had burned the bodies of the dead vermin. For all Vaz knew Saza and his two children where in that pit. His fist clenched again and a small trickle of blood seeped through his clenched fingers. He was sure he had told that fool female to run, so why had she not? Vaz's mood darkened and he got up from his small campfire to walk off his growing rage; it was really just a matter of bad timing that Halftail, Vaz's second in command, came walking up.

Halftail was an old ferret, gray of fur and will only part of his tail left after an unfortunate run in with a hawk seasons ago. The ferret immediately knew Vaz's mood as he came up to the rat, but said anyway.

"Chief…er, I gots ta talk to ya." Vaz didn't break step and Halftail was forced to walk rather fast beside the huge rat as he talked.

"It's the lads chief, they be talkin' bout deserting." This made Vaz swing around and grab the ferret by the neck of his jacket, lifting him off the ground.

"Leave? And where do they be thinking they can go?" Vaz made no effort to lower his voice, he wanted all of them to hear this. He tossed Halftail to the ground, the ferret looking up at the rat with unreadable eyes that held a undercurrent of fear. Vaz turned to glare at the collection of what was left of his horde as they all stared at him with mixed looks of fear and unease.

"What kind of fools do you all be? With armies of killer woodlanders being at this moment out there slaughtering vermin left and right do you all be thinking you'll find safety with another warlord?"

This earned a few murmurs from among them all, and one or two shouts of, "Well what else can we do?"

"There's no food and we can't keep hiding like this!"

Vaz silenced it all with a glare of his one good eye. "Now you all be listening to me! All you'll be finding out there," he said pointing out of the ravine "Is quick death! I know your being tired and your wounds be hurting, do you be thinking I be any better off? The only way we be getting a chance to see the next sunrise be to stick together and keep moving! We be leavening these lands," he had been thinking along these lines for a while now "West we move! To lush more fertile ground, where we can be finding a new place to hunt and call our own!"

There were still one or two unconvinced faces among those gathered, but Vaz knew they would come around in time once they all realized just how few options they had left. He didn't really know if to the west lay better lands but east was no option because all there was in that direction were great deserts. North was no better because of the mountains that got even steeper and more dangerous the further you went. And as for south…well, Vaz knew better than to cross into those lands where vermin hordes grew thicker than weeds. The bigger ones in days would pick a small broken horde like his apart. West was all there was, and these dolts better learn that quick, otherwise he would have to make a few examples of the troublemakers to remind them of just WHY he was the leader of this horde.

He left it at that, walking away from the collection of small fires, and his second in command still sitting on the ground with a guarded expression on the ferret's face. Vaz mused that maybe Halftail would have to be the first example. The ferret always had been a little too ambitious for his own good. Walking up the hill Vaz finally paid some attention to the wound on his paw, tearing off a small piece of his tunic to wrap the wound. When he reached the hill's crest he saw that the sun was setting once more, the sky alight with pink and purple hues of color as if some great brush had stroked pains across it. The small place in his heart he rarely took notice of clenched with pain as he thought of the times that he and Saza had spent watching sunsets like this.

He didn't know if she was really dead, or his daughter and son, but he would not fool himself into false hopes. Chances were they had been apart of the ashes in that damned pit those bastard woodlanders had left behind. His rage smoldered inside him like a dormant volcano starting to awake. The woodlanders would pay…all of them. He didn't care what he had to do or how it would be done, but one way or another he would kill every last one of them. Suddenly the heat from the setting sun would have seemed cold in comparison to the anger that one rat warlord let fester inside him as he stood upon a barren hill, part of his soul left behind in a pit of ashes where he believed the only things he had ever cared about lay buried.

First Captain Vincent Clive of the 3rd Legion of the Light strode with cool confident steps towards the tent of his Lord Commander. Around him the half-triangular tents of the Legion spread out in perfectly lined rows, forming a neatly spaced diamond around a central core that consisted of the Lord Commander's tent, the supply tents, and the personal tent of His Lord Highness Prince Meriadoc.

As Vincent passed by the soldiers of the Legion, also known commonly as the Followers, broke off from their daily routines to stand at ridged attention, saluting the otter by placing their steel gauntleted paws crossed over their chests and bowing from the waist down. Vincent beamed with pride each time he saw the display, marveling at the sheer beauty of the discipline instilled in the Legion's soldiers. Like a wave they rose to show their proper respect to an officer, and at the precise moment he was far enough away they would stand at ease and then return to their task, whether that be tending to their weapons, or polishing their armor.

This camp alone contained perhaps a thousand of the Imperium's best. Two full regiments of the elite guard for the Prince's inspection of this operation. Vincent still felt pride swirl up inside him every time he thought of how he had been assigned to the Legion the Prince himself would march with while overseeing the Purge, as it had been come to be called.

Moving past the last lined row of tents, Vincent reached the inner circle where the clear space was taken up by a collection of domed tents. The largest one, it's toped rimmed in gold and with a long stout pool where the banner of the Legion fluttered, was his destination. He took a moment to salute the banner, as custom dictated, bowing and gazing up at the great sunburst, the symbol of Light, and the sword through it which was the symbol of the Legion which rightfully dispensed the will of the Light.

Opening the tent flap Vincent walked in with a slightly altered step, made meeker not only because it was proper etiquette but also the presence of the two creatures in the tent truly did command no small amount of respect.

Lord Commander Ralmsa De'Bouge was an aged hedgehog, silver gray fur neatly combed under glistening spikes. The Lord Commander's armor had been modified, as all hedgehogs' were, to allow for the spikes to stick out without impediment. The Lord Commander's dark eyes looked out from under a furrowed brow, a slight smile playing across his face as Vincent entered the room.

"Ah my boy, right on time as expected. I was just talking with His Highness of how well you performed yesterday in routing that rabble of the Unclean." The Lord Commander said, clasping his paws behind the small of his back.

Vincent stopped and bowed formally, "My Lord Commander is too kind. It was but a simple task. The Unclean ones have no concept of battle, and we purged as many as we were able, though I fear too many for my liking fled to the west."

"Still a commendable effort none the less." Said a loud and rumbling voice, and Vincent nearly felt his face flush at a direct compliment from the Prince. Meriadoc Lightstripe was a badger of great stature. Snowy white fur graced a lean muscular frame and did not show one mark of another color even upon the stern and angular face where most badgers usually had some stripe along it's length. Pure blue eyes gazed out of deep set sockets, seeming to look through you into your soul more than at you. It made Vincent slightly uncomfortable that such a gaze was now on him, even if the Prince was smiling just as the Lord Commander was.

"Surely my Prince is too kind, but I graciously welcome your praise." Vincent turns his attention to the Lord Commander, glad for the moment to not have to look the Prince directly in the eye. "My Lord Commander summoned his Captain?" it was a redundant question but military formality demanded it. Ralmsa nodded once and gestured for Vincent to take a seat around the table he and Meriadoc had been sitting at. The table was made from solid oak, well varnished and now had a well-worn map drawn upon parchment spread across its surface. Vincent sat in the chair on the same side as the Lord Commander, leaving the other side to the Prince.

The map showed a detailed topographic map of the entire known region in which the Legion now marched. Empty plains, marked with rivers and occasional small lakes, consisted of a large portion of the map. These planes were flanked on the north by a large chain of mountains that ran east to west, curving southward at their most western tip, which nearly made it halfway down the map. To the west itself was all planes, save for the far edge where a large lake, nearly an inner sea itself, marked the beginning of a huge section of forest. This whole map had been drawn based of old expeditions and information gathered from interrogations of a few of the Unclean that had been taken alive for the singular purpose of gleaning what information their small putrid minds contained before they were rightfully put to the blade.

"Our forces are spread across the majority of this area," said the Lord Commander, as he gestured to the lines of blue that had been drawn upon the map to show the position of each Legion. "The 5th and 8th Legion have already crossed the great river to the west, spearheading a pursuit of a few large hordes of the Unclean as they attempted to flee. For the moment I have dispatched orders for those Legions to return so that we are not spread too thin."

Prince Meriadoc leans forward and looks over the map, his eyes searching and his face taking on a curious expression. "It seems a waste to call them back Ralmsa. You know we cannot afford for too many of the Unclean to escape our grasp so early in this operation. The Purge must not let any large number of those lowly things to get away or they will breed into great numbers once more and become the plague they once were."

The Lord Commander nodded once, saying "I understand His Majesty's concerns, but it is best not to take chances that we cannot afford any more than we can afford to leave too many of the Unclean alive upon this world. Once the Legions are whole again and our line is steady, we shall march forth once more and continue to Purge these lands as far west as we can until the great waters of the ocean stop us. But to do that we must be whole and not reach too far. As you know the supplies we brought with us from the Imperium are starting to become a liability. There simply is not enough natural vegetation in these blighted lands for us to continue without logistical support. The foodstuffs and equipment your Highness brought with you when you arrived to inspect our progress has helped and will keep us going long enough for the runners I sent back to get word to your father His Royal Majesty to send more supply caravans out here. Then once fully supplied we can restart our great march."

The Prince seemed to be satisfied with this and said no more, leaning back in his chair and regarding the map with a casual eye. The Lord Commander turned and looked over at Vincent. "Captain, the reason I summon you here is that I have a special task that must be carried out, for the glory of the Light."

Vincent sat up straighter and fixed the Lord Commander with his most loyal and attentive look. "I live to serve the Light and my Lord Commander. Speak your wishes and I swear to you that I shall do all within my power to fulfill them."

"Then listen well," said Ralmsa as he turned back to the map. "Two-weeks and three days past a regiment encountered and purged a den of the Unclean in a valley not more than ten miles north of here at the tip of this mountain pass." He pointed to the southern tip of the mountains, very near to where the great forests to the west began their great stretch across the western lands. "Most of the things were properly slain, but it is suspected a few escaped. While normally this would pose no problem there is one slight difference here than with the many other routs of Unclean. In all the others the things fled directly to the west, beyond our reach and beyond our concern for the moment. But this one band scattered into the mountains and I fear it might cause a problem if one of their so-called leaders organized raids on our rear lines."

Vincent tried not to but snorted anyway "Is my Lord Commander serious, with all due respect those creatures do not have the mental capacity to organize such a thing…." He pauses, seeing the Lord Commander's look. "Can they?"

Ralmsa sighed and shook his head "At times they are not as stupid as we would like them to be Vincent. Even if the chances of a scattered and broken band posing a threat to us is minimal at best, it would be better to make sure that none were alive to even have that small chance. I want you to take a company of soldiers and go into those mountains and destroy the remnants of that band of the Unclean. If you must pursue them all the way to the very oceans of the west, you will have the supplies you need and a small enough group can survive on it's own off the land whereas the entire Legion can not. Do not return here until the last of the Unclean from that shattered horde is put down and no longer a threat to us. I choose you for this mission because I know you have experience with wilderness operations and can lead small groups well and can deal with long remote missions such as this. I expect you to bring this Legion honor and glory to the Light. Are there any questions?"

Holding his face tightly in an stoic expression. Mixed feelings of gratification for being chosen for such a mission and the ache of knowing he would most likely be gone from the Legion for a long time trying to track down the lowly vermin in the mountains fluttered inside him. He stood and saluted the Lord Commander.

"None my Lord Commandeer. With your leave I shall proceed to undertake this mission at once. Glory to the Light."

Ralmsa smiles and stands, returning Vincent's salute. "I'm sure you will do very well. You are dismissed Captain Vincent, glory to the Light and honor be with you."

Vincent made a smart about face and quickly left the tent, the cockiness returning to his stride. Ralmsa sighed as he watched the otter go, glad that that little bit of business was done and he could move on to other things. So much to do before he could retire for the night. He looked over at Prince Meriadoc.

"I hope you Highnesses first impression of the young Captain Vincent was a favorable one."

The Prince glanced at the tent flap where Vincent had left, then back at Ralmsa, his voice musing. "He shows much zeal, though that is hardly a unfavorable quality. If you say he has the potential that you believe he has then I shall certainly consider raising his rank to that necessary to succeed you as Lord Commander of the Legion…if that is your wish."

Ralsma sighs again and slowly walks over to a side of the tent where a open flap acts as a window to the outside. His eyes gaze out of that flap at the sun as it sets in the broken horizon of mountains to the west "He is a very headstrong young one, much like I was at his age. I have no heirs to take my place when I pass from this world into the Light's embrace…and for a long time I have watched young Vincent grow from an overzealous soldier to a skilled leader of creatures and a quick thinker when it comes to making hard decisions. There are few I'd trust with the command of this Legion that him and it is my wish that he be my successor."

The Prince rises from his seat and walks to stand beside the hedgehog. "Then so it shall be. When he returns from this mission you've assigned him to I shall see to it personally that he is named as your successor."

Ralmsa turns his head upward to look the badger in the face, his voice a slight whisper. "My thanks go to you. May his Highness always walk the path of honor and be blessed by the Light." The badger laughs once and claps the old hedgehog on the back. "As it always should be my friend. Now come, there is still much we must discuss before this night is done…we do after all have a whole continent yet to purge of the Unclean."