Grimoires and Gunsmoke

“What in the hell is goin’ on!?” Shaw’s bark echoed through the stillness that had fallen over the rear guard as confusion and uncertainty gnawed at their hearts

One by one, footmen, knights, and mages clambered out of their carriages or guided their mounts to get a better venue to look at the unfolding catastrophe. "What sorcery is this!?” One grizzled veteran said as more explosions kicked up.

“Since when in the hells did highwaymen recruit skilled mages?" another voice cut through the cacophony.

"Skilled mages?!" A young mage sputtered. "You think mere bandits could entice anyone powerful enough to do this!?”

Another mage on horseback pushed through the growing crowd in worn armor that spoke of years of service. Unlike his contemporaries, there was no panic in his eyes, only a strange, burning intensity as he scanned the area for mana. "These are no mages…" he informed in a low and deliberate voice. “Not a hint of mana in the air.”

Shaw sensed a shift in the rising chaos – that sliver of clarity transformed a tense unease into a storm. "Quiet!" Shaw roared, his voice silencing the panicked discussions. "I don’t care this magic or it ain’t!”

Tremors ran through the convoy for each consecutive explosion, causing both men and animals to stir and yelp. Shaw wrestled with his own surge of fear. He was no mage or learned man, but he’d seen enough to know this kind of effect only came from older and more powerful beings. He swallowed hard, forcing his voice into a semblance of steadiness.

"Whatever it is, it has us cut off from the rest of the convoy, so we gotta fight it like any other foe!" Shaw bellowed as he jumped onto his warg. "Lieutenant Dalion, get yer men in order! Sergeants, start whippin’ those who dally! Spears forward and shields up!”

His men immediately spurred into action at their knight captain’s barked orders. Fear transformed into a frenzied, desperate energy. Footmen with pikes, knights with magic imbued weapons and shields formed a bristling wall, and mages scrambled to get into the center of the formation and began chanting spells. Meanwhile, the mounted cavalry shifted in order to find a better way to engage the enemy in such a narrow stretch of road that was flanked by trees.

Shaw and his men listened to the echoes of the mysterious weaponry as they continued to organize and prepare themselves to interdict whatever was attacking them. The squad leaders rallied their men, and the section leaders spoke amongst themselves, trying to devise a plan as the explosions kept rocking the center of the Convoy. No one truly knew what was happening or what to expect, but they all knew the explosions weren’t random. They seemed targeted, methodical even. It was as if whoever was behind this had a clear objective in mind, seeing they hit nowhere else except the center.

With a shield wall formed, the main body of footmen started to advance towards the roar of battle. The convoy had ground to a complete halt, bathed in the eerie glow cast by the setting sun and lingering fires from the attacks. As the reinforcements closed in, warriors, mages, and laborers alike huddled behind whatever cover they could or scoured the shadows. The air buzzed with a volatile mix of fear, confusion, and the screams of the wounded as they sprawled across the ground.

"Shields up! Eyes forward!" One of the sergeants thundered. His men raised their shields in unison, forming a barrier while the mages in the rear frantically cast protective wards.

Shaw maneuvered his warg through the thick ranks of mounted skirmishers until he reached their leader. "Lieutenant," The knight captain’s voice cut through the din of the advancing cavalry. "Focus on collecting the wounded! Yer boys won't be much use in a fight in these woods! Secure our fallen, then move them to the rear!”

“Yes, sir!" The Lieutenant nodded his understanding before the rough man turned to his mounted subordinates. “Ye, heard the man! Git yer arse’s movin’!” He issued orders and directed a portion of the skirmishers to the uncontested side of the convoy.

With the mounted cavalry pushing forward, Shaw pulled back on his wargs reins, causing the beast to spin violently, nearly throwing the man off. Having ridden horses his entire life, Shaw wasn’t anywhere near accustomed to the sheer aggression in which a warg moved.

Cursing under his breath, the knight captain leaned forward and tightened his thighs around the beast as it took off into an unbelievably fast sprint back toward the rear, where the lesser mages were recuperating. He needed them in the fight, and he needed them now.

As he approached, Shaw could see the weariness in their postures and the uncertainty in their eyes. There were a few young elite men and women, inexperienced in the brutal realities of war, but most of them were grizzled veterans who had seen campaign after campaign. However, both novice and veteran seemed to tremble at the sight of explosion magic.

Shaw dismounted with a fluid grace born of years on the battlefield, his presence commanding immediate attention. He stood before the mages, and his gaze swept over them, taking in every detail. He knew whatever was attacking them wielded strange and alien magic, but he needed his magic users to be more than they believed they could be.

"Mages!" Shaw's voice boomed, cutting through the air with the sharpness of a blade. "On your feet! I don’t care how tired you are or how scared you are! We need every spell, every shield you can muster. This enemy is unlike any we've faced, but we are the shield that guards the realms of men!"

He paced in front of them, his eyes locking with each of theirs in turn. "Ye trained for this, studied for this! Now is the time to show the strength of yer conviction! Chant yer incantations, weave your spells!” Shaw tried to spur them on and saw nothing but exhausted faces.

…

Letting out a low growl, the knight captain then turned to one of the veterans among the mages, a grizzly character known for his cantankerous nature. “Darjen! Get these miserable lots up!" Shaw barked, pointing an accusatory finger at the man.

Darjen, upon hearing his name called out in such a demanding tone, heaved yet another tired sigh, a sign of resignation rather than defiance. He knew there was no arguing with Shaw, especially not in the midst of a crisis. Despite his reputation for being a lazy curmudgeon, the mages of the count retinue still respect Darjen for his skill and expertise. Especially since he was bestowed the rank of Adept Mage by the Guild of Magus.

"All right, you heard the captain," Darjen addressed the beleaguered mages around him with an authoritative yet lethargic grumble. "Up on your feet, everyone. We're not here to be easy targets. If you can stand, you can fight. If you can breathe, you can cast."

The lesser mages began to stir with their feet from his gruff encouragement. Oddly enough, that served as a better rallying cry than their captain's more… impromptu speech. As they started to pick themselves up as dust off their light armor, the weariness in their eyes was replaced by a flicker of resolve. It was a testament to Darjen’s influence despite his often more… contentious relationship with them.

Darjen didn't waste any time. Familiar with command, he began organizing the mages into a more cohesive unit. "There ya go, you miserable pieces of shites!! I want barriers up at all times and towards the treeline–” His words abruptly stopped as several small, green ball-like objects, the size of fists, were tossed at the feet of the greatest concentrations of their group.

Without a second thought, Darjen’s instincts kicked in. He aggressively motioned his hands upwards, and in response, a great wall of earth violently jutted out of the ground. The sudden movement threw several people off balance, and a few of the lesser mages were sent flying high into the sky.

Just the cries of surprise and terror resounded from the sudden spell; numerous bone-rattling blasts erupted, each explosion sending shockwaves through the ground and threatening to shatter Darjen's hastily erected earthen wall. The air filled with the smell of scorched earth and the horrid screams of the wounded after whatever that horrid sorcery caused those dark green orbs to detonate.

With ringing in his ears and a crumbing wall, Darjen quickly assessed the situation. While a decent number of lesser mages had been saved with his quick thinking, a large majority were on the other side. However, that small bombardment wasn’t the other thing to grace the rear guard. This time, the incessant barking chatter erupted from their treeline this time and it spoke of an enemy ambush that was far from finished.

Knowing that the earthen barrier wouldn't hold against another volley of those mysterious green orbs, Darjen knew he had to act fast. With a deep breath, he concentrated, drawing upon the depths of his arcane knowledge. An advanced incantation formed on his lips, ancient words of power resonating with the energy thrummed with each syllable.

As he twisted his hands in a circular motion before spreading them outwards, he manifested a powerful barrier. Shimmering blue hexagons appeared in front of him, interlocking with each other and arching in a protective dome that covered 180 degrees in every direction. The spell pulsed with magical energy, forming a barrier far stronger and more intricate than the simple wall of earth.

Just as Darjen completed his spell, the barrier's flank lit up with an intensity that mirrored the stars of a clear night sky. Projectiles, unseen but obviously potent, slammed into the hexagonal shield with the ferocity of a horde of angry bees attacking a window. The force was as relentless as it was draining, and the Adept Mage knew he had to act fast.

Meanwhile, Shaw, having been caught off guard by the sudden erection of the earthen wall, found himself sprawled on the ground in a momentary daze. His initial reaction was one of confusion, followed quickly by a surge of unfounded paranoia. In his disoriented state, he began to shout, accusing the Wyvern Commander of setting them up, his voice a cacophony of rage and confusion amidst the chaos.

But Darjen could spare no attention for the knight captain’s delirious accusations. His focus was entirely on whatever in the infinite hells was peppering his shield. With the projectiles continuing their assault, he knew they needed a more aggressive response. His arms were still outstretched from casting the barrier, and With a booming thunderclap that seemed to shake the very air around them, Darjen slammed his hands together. The result was explosive, both literally and figuratively. The wall detonated outward like a shotgun blast, sending rocks, boulders, and massive clumps of earth hurtling toward the enemy with lethal velocity.

Yelps of pain and yelling could be heard from the treeline as a wide grin spread across Darjen face, but his smile soon faded as he witnessed the next scene unfold before his eyes. It was, without a doubt, the worst thing Darjen could possibly imagine facing. He'd rather confront a rampaging dragon than the infernal creature hovering in front of the tree line. There, floating with rapidly beating wings, was a small Pixie-like creature, except its head was crowned with fire instead of hair, and its eyes were a dreadful violet hue that seemed to pierce through one's soul with malevolent intent.

But it wasn't just the creature that chilled Darjen to the bone; it was the magic it used. An innumerable amount of strange barriers, shaped like multifaceted pyramids, continuously collapsing in on each other and simultaneously explode outwards. The damned thing looked to have more dimensions than a demonic sorcerer. These strange barriers intercepted the majority of the debris Darjen had launched forward, absorbing the earth and rock in a way that defied understanding. The projectiles seemed to vanish or disintegrate upon contact with these otherworldly shields, leaving no trace of their existence.

“THE FAE!!” Darjen screamed as he saw the monster's hand flick upwards. “POWER TO ME!!”

Just as he shouted, a section of the creature's barrier shattered, and at the same time a horrible, high-pitched laughter seemed to tear through the air. The sound was not just audible; it was a physical force, causing those nearby to clutch their ears in agony. Shaw, closest to the epicenter of the strange assault, collapsed to the ground, seemingly alight with a violet flame. The flame neither wounded nor consumed, but it caused the knight captain to writhe in pain and let out a shrill scream in the face of the fae's cruel magic.

The surviving lesser mages, witnessing the fae's devastating attack, didn't hesitate a second longer nor wait to be prompted a second time. Drawing deep from their reserves of power, they funneled every ounce of their energy into reinforcing the shield, like a dam opening its gates to release a flood. Their combined magic surged towards the barrier, strengthening it in a desperate bid to ward off further attacks from the vile monstrosity.

However, their efforts seemed almost futile when the fae, with contemptuous ease, raised its other hand, pointing a slender finger directly at Darjen. The adept mage, already bracing for impact, didn't properly hear the sound that followed; his eardrums immediately burst as the loudest crack of thunder imaginable resounded, shattering nearly every layer of the combined defenses. The force of the blast sent him flying away, tumbling through the air like a leaf caught in a hurricane.

Darjen's world became a blur of pain and disorientation as he was violently thrown through the air. He couldn't hear anything beyond the ringing in his ears. However, he saw the horrid and ancient bolt of magic. This was not just any bolt of lightning but a cascade of pure, destructive magical energy. Darjen didn’t even have the hubris to say the combined strength of 10 lesser mages and an adept warded off the spell.

No… it ricocheted…

The barrier had simply deflected the devastating bolt and sent it shooting further up the convoy. The destruction was immediate and catastrophic, with both man and beast being torn asunder in a gruesome display of power as wagons shattered into scorched fragments, showering the remainders as shrapnel.

Hitting the ground with a painful thud, Darjen acted out of pure reflex. He immediately threw up his hands, channeling the remainder of his power to conjure earthen walls around him as he started to roll his body toward the opposing treeline. In quick succession, walls rose just in time, as bolt after bolt of lightning, each one as deadly as the last, slammed into his makeshift defenses, obliterating one after another in a relentless assault. The impacts sent shockwaves through the ground as the earth below him absorbed most of the power, but Darjen's quick thinking spared him from the brunt of the attack.

Pushing himself up mid-tumble Darjen sprinted as fast as his injured form would allow into the trees. Each step was agony, but the will to survive drove him forward. He knew he was severely outmatched. Hell, the fae's power dwarfed his own and everyone he could remember COMBINED.

Behind him, the chatter of strange weapons and explosions became muffled as he pushed through the darkness of the forest. The convoy was more than certain to fall, but those were not his concern now. He had to get away from that arcane horror.

“God-fucking-damnit! I’m hit!” Silva, the Communications Sergeant, growled angrily as he pulled himself off the front line and dipped behind a tree while pulling off his gear. “Fuck!” He yelled, completely furious, ripping open his IFAK (Individual First Aid Kit) as he slid into a small depression in the earth for cover. Following closely into the depression were three operators from the Australian SASR, two of them also wounded, and the last, a medic, quickly helping everyone apply tourniquets.

The cacophony of rifle and machine gun fire merged with the crackles of strange magical energy, maintaining a constant roar that made it challenging to hear even with electronic ear protection. Explosions from grenades and mortars shook the very ground, sending dirt and debris flying everywhere, and amidst the chaos, Yana's display of power had been a turning point. The overwhelming spell she had cast cut through enemy lines like a hot knife through butter, sowing fear and confusion that only fueled the special operations force’s aggression.

It didn’t much longer for the ODA and SASR operators to push from their concealed positions and maneuver on the convoy in a bid to quickly secure their objectives. Coleman and the joint team had found their way to the last cart, and an Australian machine gunner right next to him went full cyclic, spitting out hate down the length of the convoy.

"Baron 2, this is Baron Actual! ETA!?" Coleman shouted over the din of battle as he pressed down on his push-to-talk.

Just as he finished the transmission, a massive shard of ice whistled through the air, nearly impaling the man and lodging itself deep within the carriage. Coleman and the Australian had both flinched away in a bid to duck for cover.

"OH!! FUCKIN’ DICKHEAD!!" The startled SASR operator yelled out before turning his Knight's Armament Company LAMG towards the offender and returning fire.

As the mage who cast the ice spell quickly scrambled back into cover, Coleman's radio crackled to life. "Baron Actual, this is Baron 2; we're rounding the corner now!" Kwon’s voice resounded across the net as the second phase of the ambush was about to commence.

Barreling around the bend of the dirt road came two Ground Mobility Vehicles (GMVs) and their arrival not a moment too soon. As Coleman and his team held their ground, several contingents of mounted enemies, riding large creatures that were a terrifying cross between hyenas and wolves, charged down the less contested side of the convoy.

The lead GMV immediately swung into action. The vehicle's side-mounted M240 machine guns roared to life, belching out a deadly stream of bullets while the .50 cal gunner pulled back on the charging handle of the heavy machine gun and pressed down on the paddles. Above the incessant chatter of the M240s, the distinct, deep thump of the .50 caliber machine gun barked out, immediately cutting down the vanguard before they could even get close. Bodies of both man and beast tumbled as the rest scattered in panic.

In the midst of this pandemonium, Eli, Bennett, and two Australian operators found themselves in a desperate struggle atop their writhing target. Despite their best efforts to subdue him through a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps, the man continued to thrash violently, seemingly tossing them about like children.

“FUCKIN`!” Elijah growled as he slid across the ground before getting up into a run and kicking the armored man in the face as hard as he could.

The scene was a chaotic mess. Four highly trained operators were unable to gain control over one semi-incapacitated individual, and frustration mounted as each blow seemed to do nothing. Looking up from the melee, Eli saw Yana hovering above the fray with a tired yet jubilant look on her face.

"Can you fuckin' stop whatever it is you're doing to this dude!? We can't get him to stop moving!" Her apostle shouted as an Australian yelped, flying past him.

Yana, spinning around with a perplexed expression, "I'm burning his mana, ya idiot! Unless you wanna fight him all topped up, then just wait!" She retorted in an annoyed tone.

Elijah threw up his arms in exasperation, his patience wearing thin amidst the chaos. "Can you speed it up!? We ain't got time for this shit!" he yelled back at Yana, frustration evident in his voice as the battle raged on around them.

Yana looked back down at her insufferable apostle with an even more irritated expression that said she wanted to pull his stupid hair. "Hmph! Fine! Don't blame me if he dies then!" she replied sharply.

Before anyone could react, the violet flames that had been dancing around the armored figure suddenly intensified, turning into an inferno that startled everyone trying to subdue him. The operators threw themselves backward to avoid being caught in the blaze while Elijah watched in a mix of horror and fascination as Yana descended. He wanted to protest, to call her off, but he decided to trust his small patron and turned his attention back towards the ongoing fight.

As Elijah took shots at anyone foolish enough to pop their head out, something within the battle-damaged cart caught his attention. He noticed a strange blue gleam through a small bullet hole.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Elijah quickly glanced over his shoulder to ensure Yana and the others were still managing the situation; he made a split-second decision. His hands reached out and grabbed the cart's badly damaged tailgate, and with a powerful pull, Elijah snapped it off.

Inside, amidst the scattered supplies and remnants of the tattered contents, Elijah's eyes widened at the assortment of loot before him. The cart was laden with treasures. Expensive-looking flasks filled with liquids of every color promised any egg heads at home would lose their minds in excitement. Golden tableware, despite the dim light, gleamed with an enticing luster that Elijah was sure no one was going to miss if a few found their way into his pack. Alongside these larger treasures were hefty coin pouches that seemed ull to the brim with the promise of wealth. All of which were covered by rough furs and a random mix of personal effects.

However, amidst the riches, one item seized Elijah's attention above all else: a strange black egg-like object, the size of a chest, barely visible under a torn sack with a broken frame. Its surface was glossy, absorbing the ambient light and creating an aura of mystery and power that was impossible to ignore.

Suddenly an Australian voice shouted, "Bingo! Target secured!" through his headset.

Elijah snapped his attention back to the man he was trying to help subdue and watched as Bennett and the two Australian operators hog-tie their now limp target.

As he heard the team start to stuff the knight-like individual into the GMV, Elijah couldn’t help but smirk. “Yoink, bitch!” he called out in glee as he began to gather the valuables.