Guiche: Hero of the Academy! – Part 2
By aightaight2
xxxxxxxxxx
Guiche rose as the brassy tones of the bugle reverberated through the barracks. The beefy drill sergeant's penetrating bellow followed immediately after, notifying the Trainees that they had 30 minutes to form up on the Parade Ground with everything they would need for a scouting mission. Any delay beyond that would be punished with a one point per minute deduction for every member of the delayed Squads.
As the dorm descended into a flurry of activity, the youngest son of the Baron de Gramont hastened to prepare himself.
Fortunately for Guiche, his recent training was supplemented by a wealth of practical advice received from his martial relatives. His brother Axel's advice sounded clearly in his mind: Don't make any assumptions when it comes to survival, Guiche. In the wilds you can use your wits, your skills, your magic and any equipment you bring with you. That last point's the critical one – there are no shops around when you're out in the sticks!
He quickly sorted out which belongings to take and which to leave. Fortunately, they were allowed to use their foci during this task, allowing him to focus on items that he couldn't simply conjure up on the spot. That made the selection at least a little easier. Of course, it was also important not to overburden oneself.
With ten minutes to spare, Guiche was ready to go. That meant it was time to help his squadmates. He slung his pack onto the bunk, then got to work cajoling and threatening Malicorne, Reynald and Gimli, making sure they only included useful gear in their kits. With a minute left on the clock they headed out to the Parade Ground, standing to attention beside the other Mage Officer Candidates just before time was called.
At the other end of the Grounds, the Musketeer Recruits were arrayed in a similar formation. No doubt a new chapter in the rivalry between the two groups would be written today - it wouldn't be the first time they had faced off against one another.
He winced at the memory of their most recent contest - the paint balls that the commoner Recruits gleefully shot at their noble Candidates really stung!
As time ran on, the Cadre started subtracting points from the absent squads. Meanwhile, those present were called up one at a time and sent on their way. Guiche started to sweat in the heavy pre-dawn air as he waited for his own squad to be called upon.
"Squad Odin, you're with me," came the sudden order in soft, dulcet tones. Somehow, Miss Midori had appeared at their side, as if a wisp of the night itself had suddenly condensed into her form.
Guiche controlled his involuntary flinch. The rest of the squad were less reserved - Gimli jumped, and Reynald's glasses nearly flew off his nose as his he violently twisted his head towards her. Malicorne, of course, was too busy rubbing the sleep from his eyes to have noticed her initial appearance, but his eyes definitely responded when he realized that the Camp's idol was standing before them.
How did she do that? Guiche thought to himself. It's like she's mastered some sort of magical hiding ability.
On second thought, he realized that that might in fact be a plausible explanation. A highly accomplished Agent of the Crown like Miss Midori might well be a master of both sword and stealth. The next time he thought he was alone, perhaps he should send out a sounding to make sure she wasn't about?
Following along behind her, Guiche's squad soon found themselves clambering onto a pair of transport dragons that would take them to the site of their Mission.
xxxxxxxxxx
An hour-and-a-half later Guiche disembarked stiffly from his saddle. Transport dragons were good at moving small detachments of troops rapidly from place to place, but their lurching muscles made for a lumpy and uncomfortable ride. At the end of a lengthy flight, said troops would not be moving rapidly at all, at least not until they'd had a chance to stretch and recover.
Guiche too the opportunity to do just that, rising on his toes and stretching out his arms, before tensing and relaxing his muscle groups until the suppleness returned to them. As he stretched he took the opportunity to look about at the nondescript landscape surrounding them.
Dawn was breaking, soft shafts of light revealing dull greys and streaky browns of an undulating, stony terrain. His head swiveled as he rapidly took in the lay of the land. A surprisingly large amount of straggly vegetation clung grimly to the rocks strewn throughout the region, but there was little else of note. It looked nothing like the lush countryside of Tristain that he had come to know...
"Squad Odin! Your attention, please!" commanded Midori. The Trainees quickly formed up to receive their brief.
"For the next eight hours, your task is to scout the land between here and the lake located 10 leagues to the south. Intelligence has been received that enemy squads may be operating in the area, but our naval assets have assured us that they have not seen any enemy airships, dragons, manticores, or griffins in the area.
Somewhere in the zone is an abandoned Fae settlement with half a dozen red and white buildings. Find it, and secure any supplies that are stored within.
If you find the entrance to any ALfheim dungeons you are to mark down their locations, but do not to enter.
Try to avoid getting ambushed by the enemy, and above all, don't let any mobs get you. Please remember, all spells used against the Opposing Force must be non-lethal. You've all memorized the list of authorized spells for simulated wargames – stick to it, and we won't have any problems.
I'll be monitoring the exercise, but don't expect to see me. I'll intervene if I have to, but if I do, it's minus twenty points for each of you. Questions?"
By now, all the Trainees knew exactly how perfunctory a request for "Questions" truly was. As Officers, they would be expected to understand and communicate orders after hearing them once - repetition and delay are anathema on a battlefield. If they deigned to ask a question they would get an answer; but it would also lose them a stack of points.
"All right," finished Midori, "I'll see you in eight hours. Do your best - if you don't, I'll be commenting on it when we do the debrief. Good luck!"
xxxxxxxxxx
Guiche swore as the dusky green prickly plant caught the sleeve of his shirt. There weren't too many of the odd looking things in the region as a whole, but the culvert that he and his squadmates were currently following seemed to be choked with the things.
They had chosen the route at his direction. Fortunately, by the time the dragon flight came to an end there had been enough ambient light for him to make out the basic layout of the land below. Always be aware of your surroundings, came the advice of Axel in his mind once more. Paying attention had worked for him in York, and it didn't hurt his standing here, either.
After Midori had left, he'd quickly called the group together to work out their strategy. He hadn't spotted anything that looked like a Fae settlement when the dragons had been descending, and he suspected that it was located a good deal further south. Perhaps even to the shore of the lake that Midori had mentioned? It would be just like the Cadre to place their objective at the very edge of the patrol area.
Even worse, they might have taken the opportunity to drop off an opposing squad of Musketeer Recruits right next to the Settlement, giving the commoners time to entrench themselves well before his Squad could hope to arrive.
That's the sort of thing that happened to you when the Cadre decided to have high expectations of your skills.
Speculating some more about the Cadre's motivations, he realized that if they really wanted to drive home the lesson they could have selected Jacquette & Isabeau's musketeer team to oppose his squad.
Guiche sighed in regret. It was such a shame - he could appreciate the beauty of a fine, athletic woman, but those two were such a potent brew of competence, diligence and threatening glares that it was best to view them from a distance. Preferably, a distance that was well outside the effective range of their muskets.
The Squad had also discussed other dangers that they might have to face, deciding on some basic tactics to use if they were attacked. If ALfheim Dungeons were nearby, they must be somewhere within the transplanted lands of the Fae. Depending on how well the Mob Patrols had done their job, they might find any number of Mobs still roaming about.
Based on the southerly direction they had flown from Champ de Mars, Guiche deduced that they were somewhere in Salamander territory. The desert-like landscape was also consistent with that supposition.
He sighed once more, this time with a little melancholy. Somewhere to the east was the Montmorency estate and his fair Monmon - so near, and yet so far.
Guiche suggested that the Squad turn their cloaks inside out so the brown inner lining was exposed rather than the rich Tristanian blue. Then he used his magic without warning to spray them all with loose earth, acting quickly before any of his fellow Trainee's could put up a protest. Camouflage complete. That should make it a lot more difficult for the enemy forces to spot them.
After deciding on their scouting formation, they moved out towards the south, keeping a low profile by staying within the dips and gullies lining the broken land.
Once they spotted the settlement, they would have to work out a plan of attack to minimize the possibility of any injuries as they took control of it. For the time being, however, they needed to focus on finding the wretched cluster of buildings.
xxxxxxxxxx
With the approach of noon, the four Salamander lancers were waiting for the right moment to sally forth.
They'd initially used the abandoned settlement as their base, taking it in turns to scout the surrounding terrain. The designated lancer would chant the specialized stealth spell that masked the glow of their wings for a short time, before rapidly ascending to a height that would make it extremely difficult for them to be spotted from the ground.
With attentive eyes and a clearly demarcated search pattern, they'd eventually marked the location of Guiche's squad. Surprisingly, it had taken a good hour and a half to do so, as the Tristanian mages had been creeping along the eastern edge of the mission zone. They'd also clothed themselves in matching camouflage garb, which blended in with the landscape to a remarkable degree.
Unfortunately for the Trainees, the clothing didn't appear to include hats.
From the air, Gimli's green locks of and Reynald's bright orange hair had eventually given them away.
Since then, the Salamanders had rotated the overwatch every 10 minutes, keeping Guiche's group under constant surveillance. Finally, they'd gotten within visual range of the Settlement. The Lancers had promptly decamped, skimming along the ground until a couple of hills were interposed between them and the Tristanians. It would spoil the surprise if they were spotted coming and going from the mission objective.
"Hey Uxper," grumbled Fastu-osa, "issit time?"
Having just returned from her turn watching the Trainees, Kajuhana added her own thoughts. "They're staying put at the moment, taking a break. I don't think we'll get a better opportunity than this to try out the sun dive - they're not paying any attention to the sky."
Glancing at the sun, Uxper finally gave revealed his own thoughts. "Yeesss..." came the drawn out confirmation."Those comments in the briefing about the lack of air cavalry seems to have lulled them into a false sense of security. If they knew we were loitering about, they'd at least be glancing up at the sky every now and then. Well then. Let's go over the plan once more to make sure we're all on the same page, then we'll launch."
Taking it in turns, the Salamanders went over the plan for the last time.
"Step one - we all recite the flight concealment spell..."
"Then we fly up tagetha' 'til we're directly 'tween tha sun an' tha target..."
"And once we're up there, you guys all wait for me to give the signal to initiate the dive. When I make a fist, everyone cuts the power to their wings and we'll glide down on top of them without the flight sounds giving us away."
"The sun will mask our descent, and when we're at point blank range, we open fire, leading to..."
After a brief pause to help with the timing, the lancers called out in unison - "VICTORY!"
With the unified call, the Salamanders were ready to go. "Excellent! Everyone ready?" continued Uxper. "Concealment spells on the count of three. . . one, two, three - GO!"
Runes lit up as the quartet quickly chanted the stealth based darkness spell for the last time today, then one by one they took off, speeding towards the ambush position.
Within the next minute, they'd be in position above Guiche's squad, waiting for Uxper to give the signal to start the brisk descent that would ambush the targets sitting unaware below.
xxxxxxxxxx
As the day progressed the temperature had soared, draining Squad Odin of their energy, sapping their strength, and taxing their concentration. It was actually a familiar sensation - they'd felt the same way towards the end of every PT session held at Champ de Mars.
Familiar, yes - pleasant, never.
The sun beat down upon their uncovered heads, the rocky ground radiated its own uncomfortable heat through the soles of their boots, and shaded areas were few and far between. The air was still, without even a breath of wind to cool them. Their cloaks hung from their frames, trapping the hot hair against them, but they weren't prepared to forgo the stifling coverings until either the enemy spotted them, or the fighting began.
All four of the Mage Officer Candidates were sweating profusely, and they had spent the entire day taking regular sips from the water gourds that Guiche had insisted they place in their packs that morning.
Fortunately, it looked like their uncomfortable trek was coming to its end. Through the haze before them, Guiche could just make out the top of a red building peeking out from a ravine. They'd taken the sighting of the Mission Objective as a signal to take another break.
It was supposed to be a quick breather while they came up with a strategy to infiltrate the settlement.
Unfortunately, Malicorne's brain seemed get stuck on 'complain' mode whenever he was physically uncomfortable, leaving no spare brainpower to do anything else. Since the very start of the Mission, he had been constantly grumbling about the heat, the dust, the lack of food, his boredom with their current task... and then the heat some more. If the heavyset blond had spent as much time thinking up solutions as he had spent complaining, surely he could have come up with some way to improve their situation by now?
As Malicorne hijacked the strategy session with his gripes, Gimli and Reynald seemed to have given up on derailing him - instead they joined in on the pity party, adding their own litany of complaints to list.
Finally, Guiche had had enough. Instead of using their time productively to plan out their next move, it was being wasted! Didn't they realize that constantly complaining about a situation did nothing but compound the problem? The role of an Officer was to identify problems, then solve them!
Why is that that I'm always the one who has to come up with the solutions to our Squad's problems? Guiche asked himself.
He couldn't do much about the heat... but at least he could do something about the sun, at least while they were stationary. It wouldn't take much willpower to magic up a little shade. Maybe then the other three would settle down and return to plotting out the next step in their mission?
With a quick wave of his wand, Guiche conjured up a set of thin, shiny bronze discs above them, each set upon a slender tripod to keep it upright. Highly polished, they were perfect for reflecting the sunlight away from them.
An instant later, a pained scream came from the air just above them.
"ARRGGH – THE LIGHT!"
Whut?!
Guiche immediately peered out from beneath the makeshift umbrella... was that a Salamander plummeting towards them? With a sword bared in his hand?
What in the Founder's name is going on here?!
As the first Fae hit the ground with an uncomfortable sounding *ThuD*, Guiche spotted three more Salamanders hovering just above them, flailing about as they covered their eyes.
Finally, the situation clicked in his mind.
It's an ambush!
Thinking quickly, Guiche waved his wand once more. A series of shackles and chains appeared around all four of the Fae, binding their arms, their legs, their wings, and their heads. With the added weight dragging them down, capture quickly followed.
xxxxxxxxxx
As Guiche entered the mess hall that evening, a pall of silence descended as everyone craned their heads to look at him.
Then the noise began.
First a murmur, then applause, then a standing ovation mixed with raucous cheers and caterwauls. The next thing he knew, Guiche was being lifted upon the shoulders of his peers, raised above them like a conquering hero as he was conveyed up and down the aisles between the tables.
What on Earth is going on?!
To the side, he spotted Reynald, standing on his chair as he cheered his hardest.
Finally, they let him back down to the ground, the crescendo of applause dimming as raucous conversation ensued.
"What in the Founder's name was that about?" asked Guiche to another recruit.
"Look over there, Guiche," said the recruit, pointing towards the front of the hall and speaking to him in the same awed tones that one would expect from a supplicant speaking to one who could offer salvation…
Are those tears in his eyes? Guiche thought in wonder. His gaze turned to follow the direction of the finger.
There, facing the recruits, was one of the banes of their existence. The "Scoreboard". A cruel joke, as all the Mage Officer Candidates had come to know. As usual, the losers of the various simulated battles which had occurred that day suffered the additional embarrassment of losing dozens of points for their group.
From left to right, the columns read:
Scoreboard
This Week's Total
•Midori's Stick: +24 points
•Musketeer Recruits: – 319 points
•Mage Officer Candidates: – 474 points
Guiche sighed. "So? We've made up some ground on the Musketeers, but we're still over a hundred and fifty points behind. I'm pretty sure we'll all be peeling vegetables again next week."
He didn't even bother mentioning their chances of chasing down Midori, and the mythical "weekend off" that was given to whichever group was in the lead come Friday night. Any time Midori felt the need, she could call out one of the Trainees for an extra training bout, and another two points would soon be added to her stick's total. She seemed to take great pleasure in 'offering' such bouts to Candidates that made particularly stupid mistakes.
"Not the Scoreboard. The Individual Tallies!"
With a start, Guiche looked at the smaller board to the right of the main one.
There, at the top of the list, was a Mage Officer Candidate. For the first time since they'd started training, a Musketeer Recruit was no longer heading the list. Such a stunning coup for the nobles, who had been behind the commoners since the very beginning. The name of the Candidate, though -
No. Surely that can't be right?
Tallies
Current Leaderboard
1. Mage Officer Candidate - Guiche de Gramont: – 97, – 47, +3 points
Bonus: +50 points (arrow retrieval), +50 points (victory over the OpForce)
2. Musketeer Recruit - Dauphine Selosse: – 37 points
3. Musketeer Recruit - Jacquette Meleun: – 39 points
4. Musketeer Recruit - Isabeau Debouvine: – 44 points
. . .
"You've done it, Guiche! You've restored the Honor of the Mage Candidates! You're the Hero of the Academy!"
Suddenly, Guiche became aware of a calm presence at his side. Half turning, he came to attention as he realised who it was. "Dame Midori! I... did you know about this?" he asked the slender girl.
"Of course! I'm the one who witnessed your brilliant strategy, Guiche! You must have been keeping a close eye on those Salamanders to set that trap – the timing was impeccable. Congratulations! The points are well earned," she commended him with a smile.
Guiche was left speechless, flailing around for something to say in response... but... but... that's just wrong! I had no idea they were there...
Before he could recover, Midori continued. "If you keep up this pace, you might become the first person to ever graduate from Champ de Mars with a positive score. That's one record that will likely stand the tests of time. Anyway, enjoy your victory Guiche! You deserve it."
Clapping him on the shoulder, Midori faded back, allowing Malicorne and the rest of his fellows to crowd around him once more.
xxxxxxxxxx
In future years, the Hero of the Academy would gain a greater moniker - the Hero of Tristain. The rumors of his early victories, however, remained alive.
That's Guiche de Gramont! He's the one who beat one of Lord Mortimer's tactical plans while he was still a raw recruit.
No, surely not…?
You'd better believe it! I was stationed at the base when it happened. Guiche's squad went up against an elite platoon of Salamander Lancers, and he trapped the whole lot of them without the rest of his squad needing to lift a single finger! There's a reason they used to call him the Hero of the Academy, you know!
xxxxxxxxxx
Deep within the Salamanders' Faction Guild Hall in Arrun, Lord Mortimer clasped his hands on his desk as he contemplated his next move.
The feedback from Uxper had been telling. As a stealth tactic, the Sun Dive wasn't quite as robust as he had hoped. He kept his features calm, showing nothing of his internal conflict as he reined in the annoyance swirling inside him.
Rule 12. When I employ someone to give me advice, I will listen to their advice. I will not lose my temper just because they bring me bad news.
Fortunately, the test had picked up the flaw before it cost anyone's life. The embarrassment of having one of his elite squads taken down by a quartet of raw recruits was annoying, but it would soon blow over. Fortunately, the instigator of the defeat was a burgeoning celebrity in his own right, which mitigated the damage to the Salamander's reputation.
I think I need a new rule.
Rule 17. One of my testers will be an ordinary Halkegenian soldier. Any flaws that he is able to identify will be corrected before a tactic is implemented.
At least the solution to this particular flaw was simple. Of course, he'd need to get in touch with the right people at TRIST. The Head of the Domestic Products Division would be perfect to arrange this. . .
Perhaps I should bring it up at TRIST's next Weekly Status Meeting? he thought snarkily. I really want to see the look on Sakuya's face when I tell them I need enough sunglasses to fit out all the Salamander troops!
-Fin-