Chapter 2: A Reluctant Warrior
The Siege (Blights’ Encampment)
Prince Blight, as always, was in a bad mood. It wasn’t his fault for he was born with an improper disposition and the company he kept were not known for their cheery demeanors.
“Sergeant Savage!” he yelled from his tent which was acting as the command post while his forces surrounded the castle of Nature.
Savage was a mercenary of renown reputation. He was a Human who fought for the highest bidder. He was wanted by authorities in numerous territories and commanded a force of others who held similar backgrounds. He was an expert with the sword, deadly with a bow and lethal with a dagger. He had an exceptional military mind which was why the Prince placed him in charge of the army. He was also extremely bored.
“Yes, your Highness?” he answered as he entered the tent.
“Are there any changes to report?”
Savage thought of lying because he was a tired of replying with the same answer. He’d already explained to the royal he would advise him the second any alteration to the siege occurred. Since none had, and the Prince would invariably check any rumors of activity, he wisely chose to tell the truth.
“No, Your Highness, the siege remains at a standstill.”
The Prince had never been a patient individual for it was, alongside a sour personality, one of the traits he acquired from his father.
“I want something done right now!”
Savage was in a quandary because, surprisingly, he was an honorable man when purchased. It had made him the most sought-after hired-hand in the realm and his employment opportunities were many-fold because his reputation of loyalty through coin was of legendary status. The problem he faced was the obstacles in his path.
“Your Highness, we’ve already attempted bombardment and scaling of the walls, both to disastrous results. I believe if we wish to retain a full complement of fighting forces we should wait for the siege to take its full effect.”
The siege was relatively simple in design; surround Castle Nirvana and block any supplies from entering or exiting. The difficulties arose from those they were attempting to isolate. Mother Nature, as her name implied, held the power of growth in her hands. Supplies were not exactly a problem for someone who could reap a bountiful harvest of fruits and vegetables inside the castle’s walls on every dining occasion. The soldiers in her army brought along their own unique set of obstacles because they were the elite of the realm. At any time they could easily break through the siege but they didn’t because, while the warriors under the command of General Shield were vastly more efficient than those of the Prince, they were incredibly outnumbered. If they chose to fight near the walls they’d be overcome through sheer force of numbers but if they chose to fight their way through the surrounding force they’d be giving up the one thing Mother Nature relied upon to wield power; Castle Nirvana.
“I do not care! The siege is taking too long and I want something done right now!”
Savage knew he’d need to quell the Prince’s temper because not doing so might cost his head. The Prince held the power of sadness and depression, a strong gift to hold. The Sergeant felt its might in the abstract one time. He was in the vicinity of an Orc who’d displeased Blight. Orcs were not exactly emotional creatures for their intellect was rather limited but they could feel despair. When the Prince was through with the creature Savage was amazed to witness the four-hundred pound walking, tusked, pig-faced creature wandering around aimlessly pondering the very meaning of its existence. It was not a feeling he wished to experience.
“I will get right on it, Your Highness.”
Savage bowed, turned and pulled back the tent flap to exit. When he stepped outside he ran into one of the most loathsome creatures he could ever remember encountering.
“Ahh, Savage, did the Prince finally come to his senses and rid himself of your horrendous stench.”
The Troll who stood before him was seven feet in height, greenish in hue and hideous in appearance. It went by the name of Toodrake but, behind its back, everyone called him Toad. Trolls were the middlemen in Prince Blight’s army for they held a few attributes which allowed them to do so. They were infinitely cruel which appealed to the Ogres and Orcs while maintaining the ability to communicate which came in handy to the mercenaries; Humans and Elvin. Ogres and Orcs were frustrating to those with higher intellect because they could grasp only fundamental concepts. Trolls could speak the guttural language of their larger brethren and were, thus, the ones who passed along orders from those in the rear to those in front.
“Hello, Toad” Savage replied.
The remark did not go unnoticed. In the Troll’s hand an axe was raised as if to strike down the Sergeant with one swing.
“I will take your head for that insult!” it hissed.
The Sergeant was not impressed.
“Well, you could try but if you make one more movement with that log-splitter you hold, Deadaim is going to put an arrow through your thick skull.”
The Troll instantly froze because, at the same time Savage spoke, the unmistakable sound of a longbow’s string, pulling taut, could be heard.
“Hello, Toad” Deadaim said from twenty feet behind the creature.
Deadaim was one of Savage’s mercenaries and his reputation as one of the greatest archers in the realm came to the mind of the Troll Toodrake. Trolls did indeed have thick skulls which was one of the reasons they were such difficult adversaries but Toodrake also knew his own limitations. He could probably take a glancing blow from an arrow and survive but even his hard head would be pierced if It was shot straight and true from twenty feet away. Trolls were the middlemen because they had, at least, a semblance of intelligence and Toodrake was the Commander of Trolls in the Prince’s army which meant he had a bit more deductive powers than his peers. He did the calculation and came to a conclusion.
“We will meet again, Savage” he sneered as he lowered his axe and walked away.
Savage and Deadaim had worked together so long they no longer felt the need to communicate. They did so because not talking was awkward and they were both cordial men.
“Okay, Sergeant, you might want to quit calling him Toad.”
“Why? He is a toad.”
“True, but he’s also seven feet tall and carries a battle axe in one hand.”
“So?”
“It’s a battle axe, Sergeant, not a spoon.”
“I know that. But I also knew you were right behind him.”
“True again. But it is possible for me to miss.”
Savage didn’t think so. In the years he’d known Deadaim he’d never seen the man’s aim waver. It didn’t matter if it was in the heat of battle or a friendly wager; his arrow always hit the mark.
“All right, fine, I’ll quit calling him Toad to his face.”
Deadaim didn’t believe Savage for one second. In all the time he’d known his Sergeant he’d never seen him shy away from a challenge. The fact he’d won every challenge he’d ever faced probably reinforced his decision process but to Deadaim it didn’t really matter. Savage was his friend and if he wanted to pick a fight with a Dragon he would be at his side.
“So, what did the Prince want?”
“He wants to start hostilities.”
“Seriously? Doesn’t he know what a different kind of siege this is?”
The siege Deadaim talked about was one of boredom. They couldn’t starve Mother Nature out and couldn’t breach Castle Nirvana’s walls so they were employing a technique which, though time consuming, was also highly successful; bore the defenders out. Make life so unbearingly dull they would risk a conflict if only to give themselves a reprieve from the tediousness of castle-life under siege.
“I don’t think he cares. I think he just wants to end this siege and if it means losing half his force I believe he’s willing to consider it.”
Deadaim pondered what Savage said.
“Um, so why are we here again?”
>
Savage pondered what Deadaim said.
“Well, I guess, technically, we don’t need to remain any longer. He hired us for a month and its past the allotted time but he offered a handsome reward if we ended the siege. So I guess the reason we’re here is because this is where the money is.”
Deadaim thought it over for a second.
“All right, good enough for me. So, what do we do next?”
“I’m thinking shot-put.”