Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
This is Part VII & VIII of a story set in the World of Greyhawk.
It's based on my own campaign, so some persons, places and things are not
in line with the published setting. Any helpful comments or suggestions
are welcome.
Thanks
Jason Zavoda
"Giffard. Giffard! Come on. Giffard, you're not dead. Wake up."
a voice called out of the dark.
Giffard opened his eyes, but everything was still black. Something
hovered above his face and blotted out the stars. It turned, the lights
danced in pairs and made Giffard feel all queazy, as if he stood upon a
rocking ship at sea. He closed his eyes and groaned.
"He's awake!" the voice said.
Kyle spoke to him then. "Giffard, come on hero, there's a knight
that wants to speak to you."
"Ohhh..." Giffard moaned, "leave me alone. My head feels like I
drank a skin of that brew Herluin makes out of potatos."
"Best then if you stay awake." said Kyle
"Ouuch!" Giffard yelled and sat up suddenly. Kyle had reached down
and touched the apple-sized lump at the back of Giffard's head. "What hit
me?"
"You are in a state, if you can't remember being kicked by a
giant." Kyle told him.
"Now I remember." Giffard tried to open his eyes again but the
world began to spin. "The ground's moving to fast, I'm going to be sick."
"Well stay awake but keep your eyes closed." said Kyle. "And if
you're going to be sick turn your head to the left."
"Which way is left?" Giffard asked groggily.
"Maybe I better have the knight come over to you." said Kyle.
"Here, Fridrek. Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't sleep."
"Sure thing Kyle." the trooper came over, one of the few
squadmates of their's that had survived the battle.
Kyle left his friend and made his way through the bustling crowd
of soldiers. Giffard lay where he had been thrown, within the yard of the
ruined inn. Nearby, the two dead giants were being guarded by squires. The
Knights of the Watch had sent a patrol up to see why the reinforcements
had not arrived. The squires kept the slain monsters from being hacked to
further bits by irate soldiers and trophy seekers. These bodies wouldn't
be sold to any merchants thought Kyle.
The dead around the inn had been removed. Of the thirty-eight who
had followed Giffard only twelve remained. Most were hale. Those the
giants hit, they killed. All told between the boulders and the giants'
fists, they had slain two score and seven, but only eighteen had run. The
captain had died beneath a flung stone, both sergeants had disappeared,
and monitor Swegen had a broken jaw.
A horse whinnied up ahead. An armored knight stood speaking with
a man in woodsmans garb, but though dressed in worn leathers, dyed forest
green, he bore both bow and sword. A ranger without a doubt.
"Sir." Kyle spoke and waited at attention for the knights reply.
"So, what of this trooper who saved the day?" the knight turned
and looked at Kyle.
"He has a head wound Sir, still too injured to stand." Kyle
reported. "If you would like to see him he is just this way."
"That will have to wait." the knight said grimly. "I had hoped
that such a man would be able to join us in the fight to come."
"Matholwch, this is the one they are speaking of." the ranger
said to the knight.
"Is he indeed." Sir Matholwch looked over Kyle in a different
light. "So you are the one who lead this charge."
"Well...I...." Kyle stammered.
"Hah." the knight gave a small laugh. "And good, that was a bold
move, but presumptuous in a common trooper."
Kyle bit back a reply, but his face flushed red and he scowled
with anger.
"I see that life in the Gran March has not diluted your Geoff
blood." said Matholwch. "Even better. Fintan here, another Geoff born,
will lead your company, but it seems that your sergeants are nowhere
to be found. Your monitors seem to have made it through, with one
exception, but they all say that it was you who kept the company from
running and were first across the wall."
"I just got the hornsman to sound the charge and I am quicker than
most." said Kyle.
"Well, Fintan will need someone to help him get this company back
on its way." said Matholwch. "Those beasts are out in force tonight.
They've sent out warbands from the city and are harassing our advance.
We need to sweep them from the fields tonight and send them back, or
better yet, destroy them outside the walls."
"Ahem..." coughed Fintan.
"Yes, yes,...I do get carried away." said Matholwch. "So I'll
ask you once. You are a brave man, but you look young. Can you do the
job. I want an honest answer. Do you have it in you to be a sergeant?"
"Yes Sir." Kyle replied without hesitation.
"Good." said Matholwch and gave Kyle's shoulder a rough shake in
his gauntleted hand. "You are now a sergeant of the Eighth company,
provisional. Fintan... Captain Fintan now, and time will make that a
permanent promotion. I want you to start rounding up the men and get
them marching. We will leave the walking wounded to watch those too
injured to move, but we must get this company on the roll again."
* * *
"Get Moving! Come on, Haul your butts," Vulgrin yelled at the
troopers. The monitor held a stabbing spear, it's blade sheathed in a
leather scabbard, and used it to prod the soldiers on. "Form up, Form Up!"
The men began to form their lines. The monitors had to shuffle
them round to close the gaps that the dead and wounded left within the
ranks.
The new captain, Fintan, a tall lanky man with short grey hair and
beard, called over his two new sergeants and gave them their commands.
"Waddard, you were monitor of the first squad, you are first sergeant
now. Kyle here is sergeant of the second century of troops."
"Jumping ranks, hey Kyle" said Waddard with a laugh. "These will
be light centuries captain. We're down about three score men."
"What is our strength?' asked Fintan
"We were at full strength before this encounter sir." said Kyle
"Two-hundred and fifty-seven all told. There are one-hundred and
eighty-six of us now, yourself included sir."
"Waddard bring the first century up to full strength, but I
understand you are flush with green recruits?" said the captain.
"Sir, many ran. We have eighteen who did not answer to the
roll, sixteen were new recruits." said Waddard
"And two were your sergeants." Fintan added. "We are better off
without them, but have them noted in the roll. They will be wanted men
in these parts for their cowardice."
"Yes Sir." Waddard responded with enthusiasm. He did not care for
either sergeant and would relish posting this report.
"Make sure the recruits are spread evenly throughout the ranks.
I don't want any squads weighed down with them or left thick with
veterans." Fintan commanded.
"Sir our signalman was killed during the fight." said Kyle.
"Who was his apprentice?" asked Fintan.
"He was the apprentice sir." Waddard said.
"He was actually the apprentice's apprentice, captain." Kyle
added.
"In almost two-hundred men, there must be someone who knows how to
use the signal horn." the captain said. "Find them while we march. Until
then, just use your voices. If you can't yell loud enough for the troops
to hear you, then I will have to find some other sergeants."
"Yes sir." both Kyle and Waddard replied loudly.
The men had formed up into column as they talked. The monitors had
already started them up the road at the march. Fintan watched them with
an appraising eye. A sense of ownership had come over him, these were now
his men. It had been long years since he had commanded more than a handful
of followers, let alone a company of soldiers.
"Kyle!" he yelled.
Kyle came running back. "Yes Captain."
"Pick out half a squad. Break it up into pairs and have them scout
ahead." Fintan pointed at the fields to either side of the road. "I want
one pair on either flank. Send two pairs ahead. Tell two of the scouts to
keep about a five minute run ahead, the other pair, half that. Make sure
that there is at least one veteran in every pair."
"And the last two?" asked Kyle.
"They are to hang back, then jog ahead till they can see the
column, then hang back again." said Fintan. "I don't want to be ambushed.
Didn't your captain ever hear of scouts."
"I don't like to speak ill of the dead sir." said Kyle.
"Good, doesn't make much of a difference now in any case." the new
captain said.
* * *
(To Be Continued...)