Marshal let loose a part-huff part-groan as he looked behind him. The still unconscious dragon he was carrying was starting to strain him. The wind dragon was in no way used to having this much weight, making flying for him extremely difficult. On top of that, he was supposed to be keeping an eye on their rear to make sure they had gotten away from the dreadwings.
Right now, they were well out of sight; the quickly thrown together traps the foxes had recommended then organized had done their job.
Marshal turned to those flying around him, "We won't have much time. Let's land, swap loads. Injured get taken to the others, and the rest we'll be splitting further into the groups."
There were grunts of acknowledgments as the group moved towards the ground.
Marshal himself gently let down the dragon he was holding. Two other dragons and fox quickly moved to use an improvised stretcher they had prepared before the ambush for such an occasion. In fact, many of the foxes and dragons started to get out the different medical supplies they had prepared beforehand.
There were no Health Crystals, much to Spyro and Cynder's concern. This was primarily because the Foxes could not use these crystals in any meaningful amounts as the magic was considered too potent for the physiology and thus tended to cause more harm than good. And then there was the fact that magical crystals had a hard time growing in the area thanks to the plants taking up the needed requirements before they had a chance.
The majority of the medical supplies they had were herbs, medical ointments, and bandages. Some, like Kean, had some tiny ideas on how to heal others. Sadly most of those were back with the non-combatants. The just plain best healer, Cypha, was also with those non-combatants. He had decided not to fight; from his choppy speech patterns, this was down to him not having long-range attacks. It was also pointed out he did not do well in group combat, or groups in general, so leaving him to his own was probably for the best. He was sticking with the injured for now, but everyone knew that he would have already wandered off if they were not being chased down.
Marshal looked around at the large group. Overall injuries were light; only three had been knocked out completely, two dragons and an unlucky fox (said an ape commander had hit a fox as they fell back). There were quite a few more injured, but thankfully that was lighter than he had feared it would happen.
The wind dragon let loose a sigh of relief; the most dangerous part of an ambush was the response. And they had gotten fortunate. He looked to the legendary couple who was coming closer to him. As they caught closer, he spoke up, "You were right; they were in no way ready for an ambush like that."
The female of the pair nodded, "The apes have always strived best in ambushes and hard-hitting attacks. It would figure having their tactics thrown in their face with a bit of dragon flair would cause some sort of disorder."
Spyro had a half-smile on his face, "I don't think most dragons would even think about fighting like this. At least not based on the battle tactics Master Terrador tried to pound into my head."
Marshal chuckled lightly, "Maybe not, but from what I've heard, using a faster, smaller force to take on larger forces is not always the worst plan."
Spyro simply nodded agreement, while Cynder sighed lightly before responding, "Seems to be. Now though, what's the next step?"
Marshal turned to look around; the group was starting to spread, those sticking around and those taking off. He surveyed them all, seeing how they looked.
In short, they were tired, dirtied, and could probably all sleep for a week. But none of them looked ready to quit wholesale. With a minor nod to himself, Marshal issued his orders, "Alright. We stick to the plan. If you're sticking with me, we'll head back the way we came and see if we can't strike from the side; I know it's a tall order but let's make it look like we're either lost or looking for stragglers." He got a few chuckles, actors these teenagers were not, and they all knew it.
He turned more to the others, "The rest of you get back to the convoy, drop those worst off with Kean and then work with Claw and Stecra to see about keeping a patrol panter as planned. I'm sure you're tired of hearing it, and you're probably going to keep hearing, but make sure if spotted, don't head back, break in a direction, make as much noise as possible." The grumbles he got in response confirmed that they most definitely were tired of hearing it, but it had been pounded into everyone's heads, so they all knew the score.
This was the plan they (that is to say, Marshal, Claw, Spyro, Cynder, Kean Horhe, Harlid, Luanda, Carmeta, and Georgia) had come up with: four groups of around fifty dragons and twenty-five fox warriors would conduct hunter-killer type "patrols" keeping the attention as far away from the non-coms as possible by either striking at the main force at random or ambushing any patrols the enemy had sent out ahead themselves.
The patrols to the sides and slightly behind the convoy would be spread out, not quite in sight of each other but close, two through three hundred dragons with almost the same amount of foxes guiding them and providing help. The foxes with these scouts were of the hunter variety, so they knew how to navigate the forest much better than the dragons did but did not have the strength like the warriors with the hunter-killers would. The number of scouts would vary based on two categories.
One, the strength of the individual. A lot of the dragons could not fly all day. Walking would leave them vulnerable if they were scouting, so they had to fly.
Two, extra duties. If they could, or it was felt they had enough time, some scouts would work to leave traps in their wake. Or they would try and create false trails. And the luckier still would try and forage what they could to try and prop up the limited supplies they had.
The Hunter-Killers had a more demanding job. And everyone knew it.
Marshal had no clue how they had even gotten so many teenage dragons to agree to this. As a rule, teenagers were unruly, and here they were coordinating in something that seemed to combine "Right of the Strong" with bits of "Mob Mentality" with a sprinkling of "Charismatic Leader Syndrome." It honestly scared Marshal deep down. He kept expecting everyone to scatter to the four winds, but something was keeping them together. He could only chalk it up to a "Safety in Numbers'' mindset combined with "No one has any other ideas!" The best he could hope for was that whatever it was, it lasted until they got to safety.
And then he planned to crawl into a hole and pretend the world did not exist for a bit. He was so far beyond his comfort zone with all of this responsibility and being looked to for what to do that the fact that they were on a different planet was not even a care in his mind anymore. For all his concern, the wind dragon's comfort zone was probably in another galaxy for how far it seemed to be right now.
But they had to carry on, and he had learned long ago not to show weakness lest he gets eaten alive. So with a breath and a nod to those around him. Marshal spread his wings and took flight, ready to see if they could introduce the Dark Army's Dreadwing Core to a Death by a Thousand Cuts.
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Tribon would later comment that every time she saw her younger brother during their attempt to escape from the apes chasing them, it looked, to her at least, like he was either on the verge of a panic attack or was still high on adrenaline, the entire time. She would also comment how it looked like others were coming close to breaking down at times, but something always kept them going. No one knew what it was precisely that motivated them so, but every time the Hunter-Killers would come back, looking worse for wear each time and still getting up and getting ready to go out again would motivate the rest just a little bit more. Go a little further, a little fast, help the convoy a little more, or even not complain as much.
If anyone had asked the Hunter-Killers, they would have said quite plainly, "Every time we wanted to, we looked at those eight nut-jobs. They did not quit, so we couldn't." Said 'nut-jobs being the Leaders, the strongest of the eight elements amongst them. Each one doing something even if they themselves did not realize the importance of it.
Stecra was always flying with the scouts. There would be times she had to break off and run interference when a lucky ape scout got too close. But no matter what, she was up in the air with the scouts, keeping an eye out herself, running messages, or sometimes just providing an ear for those needing to vent. She always had a positive attitude and never seemed to run out of energy.
Kean was, by far, the best "medic" they had. Every injury that came back, he instantly looked at them, judging their injuries and figuring out how best to husband what they had. Cypha would later thank Kean for not having the Healing Dragon use his power even once. Kean would tell him it was because the only reason he would have asked was if either Cypha had shown he was comfortable offering or they had someone so critically injured nothing except Cypha's power would save them. While he never directly fought, it had not been for lack of motivation. But the others had correctly pointed out that outside of him, they had no one who could so quickly treat the injured AND make sure the wounded worked to recover instead of trying to get back into the fight and making things worse. His ability with his magic, precisely the non-lethal and medicinal properties of some poisons he could use, had begun to scare Cynder by the end. Though the female member of the Legendary Couple would also say she wished she was as good, she would have taken care of many problems.
Horhe and Harlid lead one of the Hunter-Killer groups. While not dumb, the two had one general plan, attack. Those they flew with were the beefiest of them, and every time they struck, it was with all of the subtlety of a battering ram. They received the most injuries because of this. It was so bad that they aggravated Kean something fierce. Despite this, they also had the least that had to drop out because of their injuries. Horhe's ability to clear large swaths of the sky or even set fire to very foliage around them with a variant of Fire Dash that Spyro had taught the fire dragons, everyone it called Comet Dash, was unmatched. Meanwhile, Harlid had more than earned a reputation of a bruiser by the end; every strike, every spell, it all ended what it hit.
Luanda and Georgia, meanwhile, proved that when it came to ambush strikes, they could plan like no other. Their ability to strike from the shadows caught more than one ape patrol off-guard and would go to enrage the Ape General with every report of an Ape strike force they took out.
Carrmeta, with support from who many considered Marshal Wind Alternative: Walf, had the best of luck with lightning strikes. Carmeta would abuse, turning that into a pun to its fullest. Under Carmeta's off-the-cuff ideas and Walf's more careful planning, this group of Hunter-Killers would strike at the edge of any group they came across, never directly engaging, always working to kite them with pinpricks. While their ability to eliminate enemies was not very good, they more than made up for the amount of time they brought with all of the chasings the apes had to do.
Lastly, Marshal, with support from Spyro and Cynder, went with completely different tactics. Marshal was a flier, and when they planned who went with which group, he accidentally ended up with some of the better fliers. Spyro and Cynder being no slouches either with all of their experience. When Marshal realized this, he decided to use it to the maximum. They never stayed and fought, never kited, and sure as heck never entirely eliminated any more prominent groups. But what they did do was cause untold amounts of chaos.
Marshal's plan was simple and based on what he knew from War on Earth: Anti-BombersTactics, specifically WWII Anti-Bomber Tactics. Get in, cause damage, get out. As a group, all fifty dragons would fly in either a wedge or an arrow formation and dash through either the top or the bottom of the dreadwing swarm. Their primary target was any dreadwing that looked like it might be carrying the army's supplies. The foxes and their boomerangs would be the ones who made the precision kills. Meanwhile, the dragons would simply throw magic every which way the entire time. If they struck something, fantastic; if not, then at least it caught attention. Once through the enemy formation, the dragons would bank in a random direction and fly like the devil himself was after them, and the metaphor was not far off from accurate.
Every now and then, throughout the day, the four Hunter-Killer groups would return to the convoy once they made sure they had slipped any pursuit. Once back, they would catch their breath, get something to eat, treat any injuries, the leaders would coordinate with whoever else was there, and then go out again, hoping to drag the enemy army even further off the path.
Before the first day of fighting was even over, they had already dragged the dreadwings off of a direct path to the convoy, but the margin of error was not the greatest. It seemed like the Apes had an idea of where they were headed, or at least the endpoint, so they kept going in that general direction. But they did not know the exact path the convoy was taking, and that was what was giving them leeway. They had to make the most of every little bit they had, not saying it, but they knew it either way.
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The Ape General was both aggravated and pissed. He had spent an entire day responding to ambushes from younglings! Every time any of his commanders were attacked by these dragons, it was more bad news. Never were they attacking, only being attacked. He had already lost several of his best Scouts, and his strike forces were taking a beating!
The army the general commanded had more than enough reserves, but that did not stop him from being pissed off at the damage they were causing. And to top it off, the constant harassment of his Supply Core was already starting to bleed him.
The general had first had the Supply Core keep further back, just in case they got another ambush, as unlikely as it seemed at the time. But then, when he received the first report of an attack bypassing his army and going straight for them, he had ordered them to stay near the Main Force for protection. Not that it helped. The dragons had attacked at least twice more. Say nothing on the other random attacks picking him down.
The considerable ape had called for camp early. He needed to reevaluate his damn forces. The numbers and loss of supplies were small so far, but even the dumbest of his creatures could tell this was starting to hurt.
As his forces went about making camp, treating their many, many wounds, and trying to repair the scattershot of damages they took, the Ape General was standing near a tree root hammering it. The only time he had been able to fight had been in the very first initial ambush, and he needed to work out some frustration before he could think clearly.
The thud-crack sounds of his strikes kept many of his apes from approaching him. When at last he stopped, the root not just a tangled mess of wood, dirt, and sap, his breath in even heavy bursts, only then did the bravest of the commander approached.
"My General, Khan the Hammerfist, We report."
Khan, an experienced, named, and battle-tested Ape General, turned and glared at his subordinate. "Speak, you sack of Fur!"
The commander leaned low, almost bowing, trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible as he spoke, "The Supplies Dreadwings are snappy but whole, and the Army feeds on their loads still." A growl from Khan almost makes the commander stop, but sensing more than seeing that the growl was not directed at him, he continued, "Our injuries are light. These dragons have proven foolish. They either kill or scrape."
Khan stepped closer to the bowing commander, his war hammer held tightly in his grip but hanging loosely at his side. "Foolish or not, they played their paws today."
The commander's sneer was evident in its voice, "Of course, mighty general. They can not be but desperate to try such foolishness."
Khan growled again, "Foolishness. If this is Foolishness on their part…" He did not speak further, instead thought.
The commander remained there waiting. He knew not to speak unless told to. While Khan was not the most violent of Apes, it was not uncommon for Generals to strike down an ape trying to talk outside their station.
When at last Khan spoke, it was for orders, "We will continue as before. If these dragons are as desperate that they would fall to such disrespectful actions. Then we will crush them with little time. For now," He moves forward, grabs the prostrating ape by the back of his neck, and tosses him forward. "For now, I want a FULL report on what we have. Every detail!"
The cries and grunts of fear and understanding as the commanders scattered were music to Khan's ears.
With his commanders scattered to their duties, Khan moved closer to his personal dreadwing. The creature only had light injuries, so he was not worried there, but he needed to prepare his own tent for the night. No lesser ape was going to sully anything of his; he would take care of his own things as he had always done.
The darkness of night was just starting to appear as the general began to finish his tent. Any further plans were stopped for the night by the sounds and cries of terror.
Khan stopped just short of the final steps of putting up his tent with a growling huff. He was ready to kill whichever death-wishing ape was trying to cause a stir when he saw it.
From the edge of his camp, Dragons and Magic. A Night Raid! At first, shocked at the audacity of their action, Khan stood stunned. But that quickly turned to furry. These fools thought they could attack his forces like this and not suffer for it. Not while he lived.
With a roar of rage, Khan grabbed his war hammer from where it laid nearby and started to charge towards the fight—screaming for those in his way to follow.
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This was dumb; this was so dumb. And yet, they were doing it.
When the apes had camped, the Hunter-Killers had figured it out quickly. It's not like it was hard to shadow an army of dreadwings. So when the sounds started to lessen as the day was coming to a close, the Hunter-Killers and moved to get back to the Convoy to camp for themselves.
Once everyone had gotten back, a little bruised and sore from the day, they had all quickly compared notes. They had started to get something to eat, then someone, coughSpyrocough, had commented it was too bad they could not ambush the apes at camp.
Several dragons and a few foxes had stopped mid-bite when it was mentioned. Then it was pointed out, coughClawcough, that a dragon's day and night vision was better than most other creatures, including apes. That got a few ideas rolling.
Then Marshal had opened his big mouth and said they could always try and raid the camp. See if they could be put on edge or even damage their supplies even more; to make camping more annoying for them.
The evil smiles that grew on creature's faces quickly turned the idea into a plan, and now here they were, in a sizable concave semi-circle attacking an army several times their size with the forest getting darker and darker every second. It was not totally pitch black in the woods, some light moonlight peaked through, but the majority of light was coming from the firepits the apes were lighting. This silhouetted the apes perfectly for the foxes. Though for the dragons, it did nothing because, strangely, the difference in light did little to limit their sight for most of them.
Instead of attacking from the air like last time, they attacked only from the ground. Everyone knew that flying too close would give them away even with all the racket the army was making.
The attack started similarly to the one in the morning, with a burst of magic. This time, instead of one spell, every dragon let loose what they had. Immediately afterward, the fox hunters and warriors let loose their own weapons.
The first strike done, with no orders needed, the dragons charged.
Marshal would not even begin to know where to start if asked to describe the chaos. Arrows and slung rocks were flying overhead, boomerangs cleaving through lone dreadwings and apes alike and dragons breathing out cones of elemental death in any direction which did not have another dragon or the way they came. Several dragons, Marshal included, did not stay on the ground and instead flew into the air to rain death down below and beeline it for what looked the most important.
While those on the ground did a good amount of damage for sure, it was those in the air which caused chaos. None of them had expected this, and it showed. But like any night raid, initial shock only lasts so long.
Away from the initial strike point, the apes were given time to get their wits, and the commander's cries of "To Arms" did not fall on deaf ears. And on top of it was the roar of rage from the great hulking ape charging through the army at them.
Seeing the charge, and knowing full well what would happen if that general alone reached any of them, Marshal banked up. He loped the quickest and largest wind blast he could create quickly towards the creature. He then proceeded to book it out of there, roaring for everyone else to escape as he did.
Marshal's blast landed a bit in front of the general and delayed him long enough that the ape could not get an attack on the escaping raiders. His cries of "Give chase" were heard, though. And the dragons and foxes would spend the next hour picking off scattered apes before they finally managed to lose the last of their pursuers in the darkness.
On That night, the apes did not sleep well, nervous for another raid. Meanwhile, the dragons rested, knowing they would have to keep this up or do better if they wanted to live the next few days.
The first day of their plans was done, now they had to see if the following few went the same.
AN: Some chapters are fun, others less so. I still say time skips are your friends. In other news, I did not actually plan for half of this to come out as it did but trying to "show not tell" just does not work for this kind of thing and is most definitely not my strong suit. I'm doing what I can.
I do hope you all liked it; I had a bit of fun with it once I finally got going. I got some days off coming soon, and I'm hoping I'll be able to get a great deal of typing done during it; we will see. I am fully on a roll with this story right now and am excited to see what I pull off.
Khan's name was recommended by Sithman91 from Deviantart. I originally had zero plans to make a point of view from him. Still, I've found I like depicting the arrogant Ape General and how he's trying to respond to the, quite frankly, entirely out of the typical tactics of these dragons. Sadly, I'm currently leaning towards him dying one of two ways, so he won't stick around for all that long. I mean, it's not like I'm lacking in evil guys to use right now. That's not to say I can't/wont' have other new ones come up, but these guys are kind of interactable for me when it comes to Apes and the like.
Either way, that's all for now, so until we meet again, Happy Reading, everyone!