"Seven. Eight. Nine."
He counted a small group of aberrants sitting around a campfire in the clearing of a forest, sharpening and inspecting their axes, maces, and other ruthless looking weapons. The large, brutish creatures were preparing for an upcoming raid, unaware that they were being watched from the shadows under the cover of night.
One misstep, and they'll splatter my brains, the rogue thought, reviewing over his plan in his head as he observed his targets from a concealed position. That is, if I'm lucky.
He fixed the red scarf that concealed his face, grabbing the crossbow from his back and quietly snuck around the aberrants to look for an opportunity. The forest was a godsend in helping him hide in the shadows, allowing him to move around his targets undetected. And he would have to remain undetected, for he could not win in a straight fight against the orcs. Their strength alone could tear a full grown man apart. Their green skin was natural armor- it would take a lance to pierce it. But just like a man in plate armor, he knew there were parts of their body that were weak- behind the knees, in the groins, beneath the arms, at the neck, between the temples and in the eyes. He could exploit these weaknesses if he managed to get close but they outnumbered him, and it just takes one of them to end it all. The element of surprise was his only weapon.
He made sure the broadhead bolt was secured on his crossbow, then slowly moved in on the aberrant that was distinct from the others, wearing a decorative layered tunic with spiked pauldrons and a feathered crown. An orc chieftain, he concluded, and possibly the leader of the group. It would be the most detriment to his plan and he would have to take it out first. From a covered position hidden by the shadows of the night, he aimed directly at the intended target, a clear line of sight between his bolt and the aberrant. He steadied his breathing, focusing ahead as time seemed to slow down. He inhaled, then held his breath for a period of time and slowly exhaled.
Then he pulled the trigger.
The sudden release of pressure sent the bolt flying through the air at near supersonic speed, generating a loud wrrr sound that alerted all the aberrants to his presence. All but the chieftain, as the bolt drove clear into it's temple, the impact sending it to the ground, dead.
"Eight," the rogue said aloud as he quickly dropped the empty crossbow and retreated into the woods.
The orcs bellowed in rage and gave pursuit, which he had intended for them to do. He made sure to watch where he stepped, as he had prepped everything beforehand. Even through the dense dark forest, he could make out the path that he laid ahead to make sure everything went according to plan. He had to be quick, however, as his enemies were close behind.
As he raced, he took notice of one of the trees where he had set up his first trap and leapt over the hidden tripwire that would be impossible to see to all but him. He continued running, taking a quick glance behind to see just in time one of the aberrants springing the trap, the brute unable to react in time as a large log came toppling out from above and onto its head, collapsing under its immense weight.
Seven, he counted.
He then neared the edge of a small crater, careful to not fall into it. At the last possible second, he jumped over the hole, clearing the large spikes at the bottom he had set beforehand. Two of the orcs couldn't stop their momentum and impaled themselves onto the sharp ends. He broke his fall by rolling onto his side, counting five remaining before picking himself up and continued to run until he met the wall of a small cliff.
A swinging vine hung from atop, and he grabbed it and quickly climbed his way up. As he neared the top, the remaining aberrants were directly below him. They had no need to climb the vine or scale the cliff, because with their immense strength, they could just pull the vine down and he would fall to his death. He needed them to pull the vine, however, and he would have to be quick to jump off, for if his timing was off, by even a millisecond, then he would fall victim to his own trap.
He raced up the vine, his arms straining to pull his body weight, but the adrenaline kept him going. He reached the end of the vine and to the top of the cliff when he felt the sudden yank of the vine, the aberrants pulling him down, snapping the vine and also breaking the hidden net that he had set above and released a hail of boulders onto the unsuspecting aberrants below. He jumped onto the flat surface of the top just in time to avoid the incoming rocks that would've crushed him along with the aberrants. He stood up, taking a moment to catch his breath before looking down below to see if they truly were dead.
To his dismay, three orcs dug their way out of the rubble and began scaling the cliff. It was here he had to make his last stand should his traps fail. Nearby, he had hidden away a short bow with 5 arrows. He quickly grabbed the bow and arrows and raced to the edge of the cliff, the aberrants already almost to the top. He drew the first arrow, aimed at the closest aberrant and released, but the arrow harmlessly bounced off its thick hide. He drew the second and released with the same results. He shot again, this time, his aim was true as it hit directly into the eye of the aberrant, causing it to plummet to its death. Two arrows left for two orcs, and he had to make both of them count. He drew the fourth arrow, released, and the arrow struck into its neck but didn't kill it. It reached the top, readied its large club but he released the final arrow into its throat, this time downing it for good. But he was out of arrows, and there was one orc remaining.
"Shit," he cursed as he drew his arming sword and prepared for the worst.
Despite their large stature, orcs were by no means slow. They swung their weapons at inhumane speed, and their strength was tenfolds that of a human's. Which was why the rogue had to avoid the attacks. He could not attack it head on, as the orc would simply step back and knock him out. He could not parry it's attacks, as the orc wielded too much strength to just be simply parried, lest he wanted to lose his entire arm. And he most certainly could not take a direct hit, for that would be certain death. The orc continued its assault, swinging its club wildly as the rogue dodged the attacks, who was desperate to find a way to defeat his opponent.
Thats when he remembered the bear trap. He had set one to guard his rear should the orcs be smart enough to try and flank his position. He rolled to the side, leaping desperately to reach a nearby thicket, but the orc was quickly upon him. It swung overhead and came down, the rogue avoiding the attack at the last second, but the orc was quicker. It used the momentum of its mace to under swing. The rogue was unable to avoid it in time and the brute force sent him a few feet into the air before he landed with a thud. He gasped for air as he grabbed onto his injured ribs, blood dripping from where he landed on his head, desperately crawling away from the orc who stalked him. He crawled into the brush, grunting in pain as he tried to hide inside the thicket. The orc followed, savoring the kill to come, sneering at its victim who tried to use the bushes for cover and stepping through the leaves.
And then a loud snap occurred, followed by two hidden steel plates of spikes that sprung out from the leaves and collapsed together with such force it severed the orc's legs. It howled in pain as it tried to grab where it's legs used to be, blood spewing like a geyser.
The rogue stood up from his cover, his sword in hand, smiling deviously behind his scarf as everything had gone according to plan. He slowly limped towards the withering orc. It continued to cry in pain as the rogue knelt down beside it and gave a loud shout before driving his blade through the soft underarm where the hide wasn't thick, ending the orc's suffering.
He took a moment to catch his breath, trying to collect himself as he clutched onto his wounded side, staring at the orc's lifeless body as his sword was still embedded into it. He noticed that in spite of being covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, his red scarf was absolutely spotless.
"Zero," he said aloud. "Now to go back for that chieftain."
On the outskirts of the forest laid the city of Halem. The city was part of a major trade route that connected to the seven northern fortresses of Eostia. The fortresses stood in defense against the onslaught of aberrants that appeared from the dark lands, ruled by a dark elf, Olga Discordia, or the Queen of Darkness, as all of Eostia dubbed her.
Olga commanded the army of aberrants from the 'Black Fortress', a mysterious tower that had appeared in the northern parts of the lands where the aberrants originated from. The dark lands were inhospitable to all living things besides the evil creatures, which in turn was a safe haven for them. The sun was blotted out by the dark clouds that surrounded the tower, killing all plant life. The waters became a toxic waste that turned the land into a deadly marsh. Even the air was lethal and could kill within hours of breathing it in.
This corruption and the abbarents that dwelled within would have spread had not the high elf, Celestine Lucross, intervened. It's said by many that she is the goddess reincarnated herself, given her powerful ability of future sight and ability to influence others. She single handedly united all of the good races including humans, dwarves, elves, and halflings to drive back the aberrants and erect the seven fortresses of Eostia, each one ruled by a powerful Knight Princess, including herself. Backed by the nation's leaders and the Church, Celestine established the 'Seven Shield Alliance', the army that fought against the Queen of Darkness and her army of aberrants.
The war lasted far longer than it should have, however. Countless lives were lost, and to fill in the gap for their armies, the Church opted to recruit mercenaries. It worked so well, in fact, that over the course of a few years, one renowned mercenary group grew in such power and influence that they rivaled the Alliance's armies. This mercenary group was known as the Kuroinu, led by the legendary warrior Vult. Time and again, Vult and his Black Dogs were able to turn the tide of battle for the alliance. With Vult's Kuroinu, the Seven Shield Alliance, and Celestine's powers, it seemed the war was finally nearing its end.
Just outside of Halem, the Kuroinu were stationed. They had received word that an army of aberrants were approaching the city, an army far larger than any they had ever faced. But the mercenaries were armed and ready.
Vult walked amongst his company, every one saluting him and giving him their respect as their leader made his way to his tent. Inside, he found his two commanding officers- Hicks, his second-in-command, and Keane, the mage of the company, discussing battle plans.
"Any updates?" Vult asked them.
"Nothing significant," replied Hicks.
"We are still missing some vital intel," Keane added as he fixed his glasses in place. "We still don't know where or how they are going to attack."
"They're just orcs, they have no plan of attack," Vult said. "Regardless, they will be here in two days. That should give us enough time to prepare defenses and train the recruits. Speaking of which- Hicks, stop playing nice with the FNGs. We got a lot of first timers, so make sure they get it right. Keane, keep reviewing our battle tactics. I'm gonna go see if any scouts have returned."
After Vult left, Hicks let out an annoyed sigh.
"Ya know, boss has been more of an asshole than ever," he said to Keane.
"Well, he does say you're too soft on the recruits," Keane explained. "Nice doesn't cut it once the battle starts and the blood flows. Our guys are gonna be kissing the enemy to death at this rate."
Hicks chuckled. "'Suppose you're right. After all, we're mercenaries, not girl scouts. But I wanna make sure these guys do their best. Sure, they're green, but they got potential like the rest of us, and I'm sure they can become a core part of Kurouinu."
"Sounds a little optimistic," pondered Keane. "You sound like the old Vult. I mean, when Vult used to give a shit."
Hicks nodded. "It's weird how much the boss has changed. He used to train em personally, used to remember every Kuroinu by heart. I know they're just fodder and all, but still, Vult had a way to inspire. What's gotten into him lately? Guess that dream of his is getting a bit too ambitious, eh?"
Keane's face suddenly grew dark. "You're starting to sound alot like Maia before she left. You know the boss doesn't like it when you start asking questions. Take my advice- don't go poking around his business or do anything to provoke him. Whatever he does, just go with it, understand?"
Hicks shrugged off Keane's subtle threat. "Sure. At any rate, I'll go check on the recruits."
He began to leave before pausing in the doorway.
"By the way, has Sol come back from his reconnaissance yet?"
"Who?" Keane asked.
"The one Vult likes," answered Hicks. "Sol Varron. Small and skinny. Short black hair. Always has that deadpan expression. Comes from the Linevale district west of Feoh."
"Ah, him," Keane remembered. "The one with the scarf, the sarcastic bastard. Can't say I've seen him, but maybe Vult will see him if he comes back. Funny how Vults taken a great interest in him. Wonder why."
Near the camp, a lone figure came stumbling out from the woods, injured and bleeding, but still able to stand on his two legs, dragging along a large duffle bag that contained his equipment, including a bear trap, a short bow, a crossbow, trip wires and trapping nets. A sack was slung over his shoulder, dripping with blood. A few sentries spotted the rogue from a distance and called out to him.
"One scout has returned! Go inform Commander Vult!"
He made his way into the camp, ignoring the astonished eyes that stared at him and his bag. He was shortly greeted by the commander himself.
"Was wondering when you'd show up," Vult said to him, smiling. "Whatcha got there, Sol?"
The rogue dropped his bag and began to unwrap the sack, revealing the severed head of the expressionless aberrant wearing the feathered crown.
"This one's an orc chieftain," Sol explained. "Heard they pay a pretty price for killing one. I get a majority of the share."
Vult laughed, impressed by Sol's feat. "You were supposed to scout 'em out, not kill 'em. Thats my job, see?"
Sol shrugged nonchalantly. "Did your job for you, I guess. Can you get me the money?"
"So you still do retain your assination skills, after all? Well, I suppose you do deserve it, seeing that you lived through that," Vult pointed to Sol holding injured his rib. "I'll hassle the Church for your reward after this battle is won. You have anything to report while you were out there?"
"This chieftain led a small band of raiders to try and cut our line of supply," Sol explained. "Orcs aren't smart enough to think of doing that, but if these guys are out here, that means there's an intelligent aberrant commanding them, possibly an orc general. And if these guys are this close to the camp, its safe to assume the main army isn't far behind."
"So they'll attack sooner than expected," Vult concluded. "Possibly tomorrow. And an orc general commands them. This will be a tougher fight than I expected."
"Something else I've also concluded about the army," Sol continued. "And this is only an assumption, but they'll most likely attack from the north if they want their attack to do the most damage."
"Very true," Vult agreed. "It'll certainly catch us off guard. But thats also the position where we can easily rally all the defenders to repel them."
"Which is probably what they want us to do," Sol continued. "Their army is large enough for them to split and cover ground rapidly. They can use one army to attack north, distracting us while they use their second army to attack the defenseless city from a more vulnerable position and move in on us in a pincer formation."
"And you think the orc general is smart enough to pull this off?" Vult asked.
"Perhaps," Sol answered. "Like I said, it's only an assumption. I could even be wrong and an orc general isn't even commanding them."
"It's not a bad assumption," Vult pondered. "And its a sound plan. But we simply don't have the manpower to spare based on assumptions. Wherever the aberrants attack, we have to meet them on full force."
Sol nodded. "Understandable."
Vult then placed his hand on Sol's shoulder.
"Truth be told, I was afraid something had happened to you, but I'm glad you're okay," Vult said with relief in his voice. "I was right in making you one of us. And you are one of us."
Sol nodded, though he remained stoic, concealing whatever expression he had behind his scarf.
"Good work, this was valuable intel," Vult said. "Now go see Keane, he'll patch you up. And I'll make sure you get paid for this bounty."
Sol grabbed his belongings and headed to get healed. As he trudged through the mercenary camp, he came to think about how he wounded up here in the first place. Even though it was his first time being in a mercenary band, it was just like any other job he had done back where he was from, whether it would be stealing a valuable heirloom from a noble or neutralizing a target for criminal organizations. He was good at what he did, using his extraordinary agility to evade authorities and enemies, hiding his presence and making himself practically invisible, using his extensive knowledge to plan ahead and utilize traps and other mechanical weapons to his advantage.
But it wasn't always like this. A particular job he had taken once involved him eliminating a powerful noble man, one who was popular amongst the people of Feoh. Since then, guilt had gnawed at conscience, and to hide himself away, he became a homeless beggar. He would sit on the side of the road, scouring for food or money, finding shelter in the gutters or alleyways, doing anything to help him survive another day. That was his life, and he refused to go back to being a murderer for hire after that job.
That is, until he met Vult and joined Kuroinu.
Hunger had forced Sol to sneak into the Kuroinu camp one day, trying to find whatever food or supplies he could scavenge. Initially, he was undetected, and he would have made it out had he not encountered Vult that night, which would change his life forever.
"You're that one guy, huh?" Vult asked Sol after having found him in his quarters. "The infamous crimson rogue who vanished for some time."
He prepared a table with food and set two chairs in front of him, one for himself and the other for Sol. It seemed he had expected him.
"That was quite a job you pulled on the noble family, I'll say," he continued. "Murdering the head family and escaping without them ever knowing who had done it. Very impressive. Not everyone can get away with murder."
"Tell me how you know this," Sol demanded.
"Let's just say I have friends who know stuff," Vult said with a smile. "I'm just a simple mercenary, but even I need inside sources to know what's going on with the Alliance. But don't worry, I won't tell a soul. Your secret is safe with me."
Vult gestured for Sol to sit, but the rogue continued to glare at the tall, dark man. If he wanted to, he could kill Vult, as he was open for an attack; he was not armed, he was alone, and he was too relaxed towards a stranger who could easily kill him.
"Gotta say, I didn't expect company tonight. But I'm glad I've prepared a meal for two. You are hungry, right?"
"I'll pass, thanks," Sol said as he continued to glare at Vult.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged as he dug in.
As he watched Vult devour the food, Sol couldn't help but lick his lips, feeling an intense growl from his stomach. The homeless beggar inside him always craved for food, particularly the strawberries that were close to him and it made his mouth water. Vult glanced at Sol, noticing the rumble coming from him, and it made Sol slightly embarrassed, though his scarf hid his expression.
"Come, eat," Vult suggested. "You can't steal from me on an empty stomach anyway."
"I don't eat in front of people," Sol explained.
Vult raised an eyebrow. "Thats rather odd. Never heard of anyone doing that before."
"It's personal," Sol said. "It's why I always cover my face. That, and it helps me hide my identity. Wanted criminal and all, you know."
Vult nodded. "I suppose that's smart. Not sure why other criminals never thought of that before. And I know you're smart, Sol. Smarter than what you tend to show."
Sol's eyes darkened. "Where are you going with this?"
"I think that its fate that we met, my friend," Vult said. The word 'friend' made Sol sick to his stomach. He never liked that word, as it brought bad memories.
"Maybe it's a coincidence that we would meet in such an awkward circumstance," he continued. "Maybe it's coincidence that my words will have no effect on you, you'll kill me, and I will disappoint myself for one last time, as I always disappoint myself."
Vult paused to let his words reflect on Sol.
"Or maybe it's coincidence that you will use this opportunity to take yourself off the streets, to stop becoming a homeless wanderer, and become something greater."
Sol was still skeptical of this man. He couldn't rationalize why they were even having this conversation in the first place until he could see the obvious ploy, the relentless mercenary leader showing a kind side, the food setup.
"You want me to join your petty band," Sol concluded.
"See? I was right in that you were smart," Vult pointed out. "And you know that even if you say no, you are already deep in our territory, so you can't possibly escape. The guys will just catch you, or kill you, doesn't matter, and the knights of Iris will thank us for our service for killing or capturing the crimson rogue who has killed the head member of the Arcturus family, paying us a large reward for our good deeds while you lie in a ditch or rot in a dungeon."
Not only did Vult know who he was, he also knew the job he had taken of killing the head of the Arcturus family, a secret that was known only to a few. Sol had never been blackmailed like this, and it made him even more angry with Vult's theatrical gentleness.
"Besides, if you join us, we will protect you from the authorities of Feoh and all of the Alliance," Vult continued to explain. "You know the Kuroinu holds a strong influence over Eostia. I have connections to those who can lock you up or execute you and have them override your crimes."
The man sure had a way with his words, Sol thought. For someone who was just a mercenary, he had alot more going on to him than meets the eye.
"Sol," Vult said, looking directly into his eyes. "Don't waste your talents. I can see it that you carry a lot of regret. I know that something bothers you, and I know you seek redemption."
Sol scoffed. "You don't know a thing about me."
"Quite the contrary," Vult said. "Remember, I have friends who know stuff. And I know you feel some regret after murdering the Arcturus head family and why you gave up your career in pursuit of being a homeless beggar. And I think I can help."
Vult stood up, pacing around as Sol continued to glare at him.
"See, I created Kuroinu to give people a second chance," he explained. "I, myself, was born into a life of despair. I have been raised by mercenaries my whole life, and I knew nothing but war. I also knew what it meant to struggle, to lose everything you have and to do what is absolutely necessary to just to keep breathing. I wanted more out of my life. I was tired of being tired, to live everyday without a purpose, without a goal and with no reward for the shit I had to endure. And so I formed Kuroinu, and I have a dream to become more than just a mercenary. And I want you to be a part of it."
Sol chuckled darkly at Vult's explanation. "That's one hell of a twisted logic you have there. To become the leader of a band of killers who believe their killing is justified for a glorious cause. And you did it why? Because you want to be a hero? Because you want to be a king? Because you want to feel good about yourself? And you think that because you are having some kind of existential crisis, you would try to befriend me so that you can feel better about yourself? That you would try to make me feel better? Don't compare me with the likes of you."
Vult was unfazed, however, and he continued to look deep into Sol's crimson eyes.
"You're a killer yourself, aren't you?," he said cooly. "You kill so that you may survive another day. I kill because I have a dream. My ambition seems far fetched, but I know that if you were to join me, you would make that dream come true. Not only would you be one of my most valuable soldiers, but you would also be one of my closest friends. You are the final piece of the puzzle to my life."
"Why me?" Sol asked.
"Because you are the one who will help make Kuroinu into a legend," Vult answered. "And I know you want to be more than just a criminal, just like I want to be more than just a mercenary. Kurouinu has given the both of us a chance to change our future. And I promise you, Sol, that if you join me, not only will you bask in the riches and glory that is to come, you will also find redemption and move past your regrets. So I ask again, my friend, will you join me?"
Sol continued to think about his first encounter with Vult. Everyone had talked about how the mercenary leader was cold and ruthless, how he loved the thrill of battle and how merciless he was towards his enemies. But the Vult that he had encountered that night was different to how everyone had described him. Vult's cryptic talk of glory made Sol wonder what it was Vult saw in him, but it was clear the man wanted him to be a part of his band.
Regardless, he had no choice in the matter anyway, as it was all set up for him to join Kuroinu. Since then, he had worked as a scout, gathering intel on not just the aberrants, but on the Alliance as well. He had learned to hone his skills working with the mercenary band, having access to more weapons and equipment, and learning more about the world. Despite his reluctance of being with the band, there was a sense of belonging and comfort in being part of an organized company. The men were friendly enough, there was always plenty to eat, and it gave Sol a sense of purpose. Perhaps there was some truth in Vult's words, he thought, and he may yet find something for himself in being part of this band, the Kuroinu. And maybe, he can escape his past mistakes, but it was a lie he constantly told himself, as he knew fate always had different plans.