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    Kyle Aarons
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Beyond the Crags - 16. Chapter 16

Taglon gave a head jerk over to Adga and pointed to the upper hall area.

She shot him a raised eyebrow only to get a second head jerk and point. With a shrug, she looked over her shoulder. “Make sure you don’t overload yourselves. This is a quick scout, and we aren’t going far. I’ll be right back.”

Adga moved up only to see a pulsating glow flickering further up. The clank of a metal weapon hitting the floor drew her even further toward the entrance. She finally found Taglon. The royal guard had grabbed a bronze hammer and smacked at a few scorpions and a particularly large blood racer snake in the hall leading to the thief training room.

She waited until the snake reared back for a strike before she launched a flare at it. While the small ball of flame had a greenish-orange tinge, her aim was perfect. The small hot ball hit it in the head. As it thrashed around and hissed, Taglon moved up and smashed its head. He then stepped on it just behind the head and took it off with a practiced swipe of his Dagger of Light.

He gave her a nod as he held it up so the blood would flow out.

“Royal Guardsman, did you want to talk to me alone?”

Taglon nodded, stomped on another scorpion, and let out a sigh. “Patrol Leader, it is my hope you will allow me to give you some advice.”

Adga blinked in confusion, “Of course… but why pull me away…”

“Because this is your patrol. To do this in front of others could easily be seen as me trying to usurp your authority or put you in a bad light. Neither of which is in your, mine, or the Combined Desert Realm’s better interests. You are on a path of ascension much greater than most nobles could dream of, and up to this point, while I have disagreed with many of your choices, you have allowed me to voice them. You also had strong counters, one of which was pervasive enough to give Lord Kandahar pause. So, you have sound thinking behind your actions.

Also, while you have overruled me on most of my suggestions, a few times you have heeded my advice. This is different.”

A boot sent a large rat flying back into the junk room. The action gave her a moment to take in the seasoned guard’s words. She looked over and down at him after several seconds. “You think I am doing a bad job as patrol leader, don’t you?”

“No. Quite the contrary.” Taglon reached up to Adga’s shoulder and gave it a hard pat. “Your commands, combined and certainly enhanced by your actions, have shown me you are a natural leader. I believe you gained leadership and command skills beyond your age and former guard rank by leading others into the Crags. However, you lean hard toward action. For you are certainly action-based in mind, body, and innate skill.

“Yet you also have shown a degree of thought and at least a willingness to listen and find alternate solutions. What you did up the street to Thul-mora and Rebklos was a great example of how, with a little time to think, you can come up with excellent alternatives to complex problems. Yet when it came time for firm discipline, your actions with Rebklos shows me you are not afraid to take command and discipline your troops. I can also assure you I know many long-time guards who would have never become physical with a noble on his or her rite. Yet you did and the looks of the other nobles were behind your physical punishment. It also firmly establishes you as the patrol leader. All four nobles have seen your lack of concern for their normally heightened castes. It will certainly prevent most, if not all, future noble-based temper tantrums out of any of the four.

“And while harsh, your actions were required and certainly set the proper tone. It was a tone you had to set early and did so and then even rebuked a good friend. It is unlikely any of the young nobles or other patrol members will refuse your orders going forward. In actuality, no one in your current group, with the exceptions of Rin, Vyrax, and to a lesser degree, Vendra will speak against your commands. While it is great to have such a presence and firm command of those under you, it leaves you vulnerable to your nature of action-based decisions.”

Taglon stomped on a spider, leaned against a wall, and whipped a bronze knife into a snake as it tried to come under one of the doors in the hall.

Adga could tell he had more to say and waited in silence for several seconds. “OK…” She tossed a blade into the rat she had kicked earlier and scratched her chin with her gauntlet. “Um… and… Ahh, I guess you think I am doing something wrong now?”

Taglon nodded.

“Well, tell me then!”

Taglon took a long deep breath and let it out before he spoke. “How honest do you wish me to be?”

Adga felt her eyes narrow as she became annoyed. This caused her to remember the countless times her anger got her a stiff piece of wood across the back of her shoulders. She clenched both fists to get her emotions in check. “Burntmetal’s staff has hit me more times than I could count as he taught me both in combat and casting to control myself and think.

“He told me many times that my anger can be my biggest advantage and is my largest fault. For if I didn’t learn to contain myself, I would place others in peril…” She let out a long sigh as she forced her fists to unclench.

Finally, she focused on Taglon, “The last thing I want is to get anyone in my patrol killed because I did something wrong! So be brutally honest. It is how I learned to fight back my inner beast and has gotten me out of the Crags alive scores of times. For Burntmetal taught me to not think in combat is to open myself and those with me up to easy counterattacks.”

“You will make an excellent commander,” Taglon stated as he once again patted Adga on her shoulder.

Adga took an uneasy breath. “We shall see… The last thing I want is to fail House Shunral or the Combined Desert Realms.”

“Your service to all of us has already surpassed what many lifetime guards have accomplished. So, are you truly open to listening?”

Adga felt her jaw clench. She closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths. “I am… now…”

“OK. Good, because what you are about to do will endanger all of us.”

“In what way?”

“Your base patrol is down by three. This leaves you yourself, Vendra, and Vyrax. Additionally, you have come to depend on the slave, Tur. He is also down. If you take both captives and either Vyrax or Vendra, it leaves me, and you have yet to really make me part of your patrol, two nobles you yourself have said are not ready for real combat and one of your trusted friends to guard all the captives. Furthermore, while it appears the Hawkling… Falconling… whatever he is… has an interest in helping, he is a long way from being an ally.

“If what I have gleaned from you and the Qling is correct, the feathered one is not thrilled with the captives being chained. Leaving him with only a skeleton framework of a guard contingent to watch the captives is a risk you should not take.

“However, there is a bigger threat. Should those we know are down here with us decide to attack, they could do so while you and those you take are not in a position to support the rest of your patrol. Keep in mind that we have left access through the one hall so they can get to the well. Therefore, they still have access to us. Should they assault us while you are in search of back areas, it would all but assure our failure and could cost you the lives of Rin, Nuk, Tez, and Tur. The other possibility is all four get taken as hostages.”

Adga chewed on her upper lip for several seconds. “But if there is a hostage…”

“If it is as valuable as the Halforc seems to believe, it would not be left without minimal food and water… or at least with water. However, if it, either person or beast, is without either, it is underground where the rays of Zerris cannot cook it. It can survive a couple of days…”

“And we have not been down here even once,” Adga responded with the annoyance of herself. “ She punted a scorpion as she growled. “So even if whatever the Mage has imprisoned was fed at daybreak yesterday and was left with nothing there is still time…”

“Exactly.” Taglon reacted with what sounded a whole lot like relief in his voice. “If I was in your shoes… and pretty sure both my feet could fit in one of yours…”

This caused Adga to bust up in laughter. “I’m big, but I’m no Colossus!”

“As Lord Kandahar said to you, he has fought Colossus smaller than you. For that matter, so have I… Not many, but put in a formation of them, you would not be the smallest!”

Adga continued to chuckle as she wiped her hands down her face. “I have not fought them… Always wanted to though.”

At this, Taglon snickered. “You may be the first being I have met who has stated a desire to face off with a Colossus with a straight face! I am also certain; you would claim victory over one… or even two or three of their frontline warriors.”

Adga smirked, “With any luck one day I will be able to find out. But for now… Thank you. My desire to push forward so quickly was not a good idea…” She once again chewed on her upper lip. “But I cannot leave someone to starve…”

“I fully agree. Especially since it sounds like whatever it is, is important to someone with a great deal of wealth inside Eaglonia. A rescue of whatever it is could be a diplomatic boon for the whole of the Combined Desert Realm.”

Adga’s eyebrows raised. “I’m far more concerned about someone starving or dehydrating to death… But as a patrol leader, I also need to think about how my actions could affect the greater Realm… So, thank you again. The question is… How do I backtrack without looking bad?”

Taglon shrugged. “Follow your own words of wisdom. You told the Qling when he fretted over telling the feathered one he was part of this band of thieves, to tell the truth. The truth is often the best over the long term even when it initially seems like leaders make bad decisions all the time. Sometimes there is no time to talk them over, but others, like now, you listened and have rethought the situation. A leader who admits to making bad choices is looked up to by most of those under them far more than one who refuses to admit a poor decision or shortcomings.”

As Adga slowly nodded, Taglon continued. “Once everyone is up and we verify they are combat-worthy, may I recommend you take only one of your close friends, either Nuk or Tez and Tur along with the Qling and Dwarf?”

Adga cocked her head to the side. “This would leave two of my most trusted friends, either Nuk or Tez who I do trust to a great degree, along with Rebklos and Thul’mora.. and of course, you… If… um…”

Taglon smiled warmly. “Patrol Leader I was, for all intents and purposes, put into this patrol as a record keeper by Lord Kandahar. Being placed into this patrol means I am a member of it even though you have yet to utilize me as such. And I was not put in as any kind of commander. So yes, I will be happy to be one of those who stays behind to keep watch and guard if you so wish.”

Adga let out a relieved breath. “Um, would you mind being my second while down here?”

“I would be honored.”

“Thank you… But why do you recommend I take Tur with me? He seems to be very good at keeping the captives in line.”

“He does,” Taglon agreed without hesitation. “However, his loyalty seems to center on you and you alone. He is also the one I do not have a firm grasp on while you seem to have an interesting understanding of him. In truth, you seem to like him.”

“I do. But I know once we get back up top, he will be nothing but a slave…”

“If I were you, I would approach the merchant and offer a good price. The merchant, as he talked about Tur, didn’t seem keen on placing the boy in too much danger, but did buy him as a gladiator and obviously likes the games. And it sounds like he is going to be forced to pit him against much harder opponents.

“You have gold with you as do several of those in your patrol. It also sounds like you have more back in a secure spot in the slums of the Spires, so even if you borrowed funds from the others to provide the asking price, you can replace the funds once back in the Spires…”

Adga shot Taglon a smirk. “Why take some out of our buying funds, when we could just take a detour through the deeper Crags on the way back to the Spires and score some more gold to make up the difference?”

Taglon slapped his forehead. “Yeah… For you, a raiding excursion into the Crags is an option… Which is terrifying to me… But if I do become your second when you are granted Commander, I will have to join you.”

“It’ll grow on you! It really will.” She gave a genuine smile even as she noticed Taglon shudder slightly. “But, um, I really don’t want to own Tur… but I guess I could put him in my patrol like you recommended with the three younger boys… I could then offer him a path to freedom… or, since I am buying him outright, just grant it to him.”

“Indeed you could… Either would be fine. And while I do not get much of a read off of him, I do know he looks up to you and would almost certainly stick with you if you were to free him… at least for a considerable amount of time. It is also good he knows Drylander and sounds like he may even be able to read it, so he would be extremely valuable in your patrol…”

Taglon took a few breaths as Adga considered his words. After a few seconds, he spoke again. “I also think the same as you. He is fully trainable, and probably, almost certainly already trained, but he has been tested by the wrong guilds.”

“Wrong guilds? Are there other guilds not easily found, like I just found out about the Spirit Warrior guild, outside the Combined Desert Realm?”

Adga took the head of another snake, procured the body, and angled back toward the main bunk room as Taglon continued to speak. “There are. And one of them is Legionnaire.”

“Really? There are no Legionnaire guild houses outside of our realm?”

“I have heard of some, but they are few and far between.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea. It may be something you want to study as part of being a Ruinseeker. The answer may hold insights into our realm, or possibly much more. I do not believe the reason behind the lack of many guilds outside of the Combined Desert Realms is a focus of study. At least not one I have ever heard of.”

Agda couldn’t hold back her exuberance behind the idea. “I bet me and Vendra would have fun trying to figure it out! Thanks! So what other guilds are not normally found outside our realm?”

“Spirit Warrior, Legionnaire, and Enchanted Archer are the big three, but there are also several subfield guilds that have all but faded from existence in many places from what I have both heard and seen, such as Glassworker, Farmer, Fisherman, Stoneworker, and Woodworker. Shipwright is also extremely rare, although we only have one guild for them within the combined Desert Realm. And while we have a pair of schools for Griffin Sect Warriors, I have only heard of one other place with a guild or school for them.”

Curiosity took over. Adga couldn’t help herself. “Where?”

“A weird place not far from something called the Wastelands of Odin… Lucas the Lost. It is said all the rare fields are also found there. My grandfather, who went there, told stories of another Primary Field Guild that he had never heard of anywhere. He called it Wildcat.”

“Wildcat? What is a Wildcat?”

“From what my grandfather told me it is a shapeshifter… like some kind of were-creature only they are not… he said he saw some crazy stuff there… like beings with animal-like abilities and one of the instructors was able to transform into a tiger… like fully transformed. I always thought it was just one of his stories to keep us entertained, but when he passed, I was given some of his journals. And in two he talks about the Wildcat Guild with a sense of awe and dread.”

“Why dread?”

“Because… His notes say he killed a couple of kids who had similar abilities in the hills outside of Gypsum Springs while a patrol leader. He thought they were Were-creature infected, but acted normal and pleaded for their lives saying it was how they were born. My guess is he died believing he had murdered two children who were actually Wildcats, not Were-tainted.”

Adga scowled as she continued to walk back towards the bunk area. “It sounds much like a girl who came into the temple of Zerris when the Priestess was working with me and Vendra. The girl was chased into the temple by a small mob who said she was Were-bit and changed in front of them.”

Taglon’s eyes went wide. “What happened to her?”

The priestess took her to the statue of Zerris and said she had a choice, either reach out and touch the flame of Zerris or be handed over to the growing crowd. She really had no choice, so she reached out and stuck her hand into the fire. She cried as if being burned but when she pulled her hand out it was not burned. But at the same time, her face briefly took on the appearance of a bear.”

Adga shook her head sadly. “The priestess told the crowd the cries they heard were of Zerris putting her out of her misery. That night they gave her a robe, food, waterskin, fighting staff, five silver, and a pack with some rations and other basics. The lead priestess had me and Vendra escort her to the southern path leading to the oasis outside of Grey Gulch. We made sure she was well clear, and no one followed us. We sent her on her way… alone into the wastes. Never heard from her again.”

Taglon blinked as a gasp came out. “Did… did… um… What did she tell you?”

“Very little. But she did tell us her brother was burned by a mob shortly before the beginning of his eleventh year because he showed similar signs, only he occasionally had his hands changed to look like a Sand Badger. His mom and dad gave him up to the mob… She ran to the temple when someone noticed her bear-like face fade in and out. She said she had no control and she had never been bit by nothing bear-like. But mostly she cried.”

Vendra looked over, having clearly caught the last part of the conversation. “Are you talking about Bequitha?”

“Yeah…”

“I think of her often,” Vendra admitted. “She was clearly not tainted. Her hand showed no damage from the Fire of Zerris even after placing it into the flame and leaving it there. And the pain of doing so is there for all, even those in the Order of Zerris. After I was granted access to the spirits of Zerris I had to do so. The pain was intense, but I was marked and showed to have enough faith to be granted my Primary Echelon pin. I will have to do so again to complete the rituals of being Secondary Echelon…

“However, I am certain, just as the lead priestess was, Zerris showed us she was not what the crowds thought. No evil creature or evil-tainted person could have passed such a test. I never understood why she wasn’t granted sanctuary in the temple so we could find out more.”

“I couldn’t even remember her name,” Adga admitted. “However, I think I now know what she was… hopefully still is. Royal Guardsman Taglon was telling me about a guild called Wildcat. It sounds like it is a very rare primary field where beings can become animal-like.”

Vendra let out a gasp. “If this is true, we need to see if Bequitha survived and get her to wherever this guild is!”

“If I am granted a permanent patrol, I will petition to take my patrol out to Grey Gulch. It is not a normal patrol route, but I have heard patrols are occasionally sent out there because of the oasis. It is a place they want to keep tabs on and like all wildland oases in the Combined Desert Realm, no permanent settlement is allowed. At least thanks to Lord Kandahar, I now understand why.”

Vendra sighed. “With luck, we can make it a priority… And with the Guidance of Zerris hopefully, we will be able to find her.”

Adga ran her hand through her hair, “So much we want… need to do. However, Royal Guardsmen Taglon was kind enough to point out I was being rash. We need to hold here until all our patrol members are up and we are sure they are in good health.”

As Vendra started to say something, Adga cut her off, “Ven, I know what you are about to say. But think about it. If there is a captive of some sort, whoever, or whatever, can wait and is probably not in grave danger. Yeah, they may be hungry or thirsty when we get to them. But splitting an already weakened patrol is a bad idea. I assure you, we will care for whatever it is when we are better situated to do so.”

Torga looked up. “Probably a good idea. If the adults lead a raid while we are gone, we need everyone else in good shape. I want the chance to be part of a patrol instead of shoveling for weeks. Plus, both me and Cuson will be able to get guided.”

“And if we are formally allowed to join as guardsmen, me and my half-sister will get picked on and made fun of far less,” Cuson added.

Adga’s whole face turned into a deep scowl. “Make sure you point out the first being to say anything bad or pick on you. I will be more than happy to set an example of what will happen to others going forward.”

Tur rolled off the bed, surprising many as he deeply frowned and punched the side of the bed. “A most fascinating dream… But I woke from it too soon. I wanted to see more.” He paused and looked down, “Sorry for my outburst and interruption, commander.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Tur,” Adga stated as she moved over to him. “You are welcome to speak at any time.” She grabbed his hands and looked, “No burns…”

“No… I was several ranks back in the vision. And while quite hot and unpleasant, it was by no means unbearable. But once again it seems I am tougher than most, for many around me plead to be pulled back from the heat.”

He looked up at Adga with a bit of sparkle in his eyes. “Commander, as a slave, I know I should not ask, but the granted vision was quite spectacular, even if troubling. It reminded me of some of the grand tales of ancient heroes I have been allowed to read. Only this was considerably better because I could see, hear, and feel, even taste my surroundings without my limited imagination to fill in gaps in the stories my master lets me read. Therefore, I request with the understanding you may give many very harsh duties for needing to sleep… I will happily perform anything if you would allow me to be the one to sit on the chair so I can see more of the dream the others seem to be fully experiencing.”

While many of the prisoners and even some of her patrol gulped, Adga focused on Tur. “If you have such a desire, I have no problem with you sitting on whatever chair or chairs you want.

“It will have to wait until we are up at full strength. However, there is something Royal Guardsman Taglon pointed out to me I didn’t know as we were talking about the state of this patrol. Have you ever tried to test in a Legionnaire Guild?”

Tur looked over with confusion. “I do not know of a Legionnaire Field or Guild, commander, therefore, no.”

Torga focused on Tur, “Have you ever tried to wear heavier armor?”

“My master always strived to protect me as best as possible when in possible lethal arena matches,” Tur responded as he ran his hand down his scale mail armor. “Armor also hides my Dragon Sect Warrior subfield training. So yes, I have tried heavier armor. My master wanted me in reinforced chainmail; however, I was unable to wear it. It quickly caused blisters and rubbed areas raw, even when extra padding was added. His estate’s forge master finally had this armor made for me with help from another master smith because it is among the heaviest I can wear. May I ask why?”

“Because,” Adga answered, “Legionnaires have a natural toughness and amazing stamina. They are a pain in the ass to take down, especially the ones who are mean drunks.”

She paused and snorted. “The city guard has called for me to deal with them a few times and I almost always end up with a black eye or fat lip… But I get a bonus copper or two, and the other guards are nicer to me for a day or two after, so it’s fine. Besides, fighting a drunk Legionnaire with a bad attitude is a great workout.”

Thul’mora looked at Adga with wide eyes then slowly shook her head as Adga continued to grin. “Yeah… not on my preferred list of beings to go against… Um, anyway, our patrol leader is correct to ask. The downside of being a Legionnaire, from what my brother told me, is heavier armor causes Legionnaires serious problems. As you advance in echelon, you will be able to handle heavier armor, at least according to my brother.”

Adga nodded in agreement. “A couple of my Legionnaire guilded friends in the slums say the same. But all they can handle is ring mail and could only do so after they advanced into Primary Echelon.”

“Reinforced leather is the best any Training Echelon Legionnaire can handle,” Taglon noted as he stared at Tur. “Many have some problems with it until they gain a step or two in their progression to Primary Echelon.”

“I have never worn reinforced leather,” Tur stated with a dismissive flip of the wrist. “I had leather at the arena my master bought me from.” However, Tur showed the first signs of real animation since Adga had first seen him as he continued. “My master upgraded me to ring mail shortly after my purchase. For the first year or so it gave me problems. Mostly blisters under my armpits, and inner legs, but he didn’t think reinforced leather was good enough for me. Therefore, ring mail is what I wore my first three years as a full gladiator.

“However, if I had the prospect of several fights to lead up to a championship fight, my master allowed me to use simple leather armor for those who I was certain would not give me problems so I would not be rubbed raw by the ring mail. Oddly enough, the ring mail stopped causing me problems suddenly about a year and a half ago.

He once again fingered the scales of his armor as he continued to speak. “This new suit was made ‘specially for me after testing several suits of armor just before the start of the trip prior to this because I outgrew my ring mail. My master told me it was less expensive to make a new suit than add to my former armor.”

He snickered, Adga couldn’t believe her ears. Tur actually snickered. It was a sound she wanted to hear come from him more often. Because of this, she missed part of what he said. “… so he spent a small fortune on this. Regardless, because I was going to get a new suit, my master had me try both reinforced chainmail and chainmail, but it caused me the same problems ring mail did when I was younger, only worse. Therefore, he authorized a real master armorer not far from his estate to make this for me.” He smiled a genuine smile for the first time since Adga had met him, “And this is very special. Even the look gives the appearance that the scales are bronze but are not.”

“Not bronze?” Torga moved to Tur, “May I?”

Tur nodded. “As long as the commander say it is OK.”

Adga shrugged, “You want to take a closer look, be my guest, but it sure looks like bronze.”

Torga reached out and fingered the scales and neck guard. She took a closer look at some of the scales while speaking. “The fourth one of us rescued by this band of thieves is a metal worker, she showed me a thing or two…” Her eyes grew wide as she flipped at a couple of the scales. “The sound is wrong and…” and she flipped on the scales. “And it’s too hard… By the gods! Is this bronze-coated Dwarven or Elvin Steel?”

“Elvin Steel,” Tur stated with pride. “Made and enchanted by a Elvin master armorer for me.”

Vendra cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t think enchanted armor was allowed in the arena.”

“I have a cheaper set of regular bronze scale mail for most fights, but occasionally I fight in this when the threat is considered major. I do not know the exact laws, but whenever I wear this, it must be inspected by a guilded mage before I am certified to fight in the pits.

Thul’mora jumped in. “As long as it is not protection magic, enchantments on armor are allowed. But it must be clear and easy to identify as to what it is. Sounds like what the slave wears is so marked.” She moved up to Tur, “May I take a look, Squad Leader?

Adga nodded as curiosity took over. She also stepped up for a closer look.

Thul’mora looked over the neck guard, “There are runes here… I cannot read them…”

“Mage,” Adga spoke as she lightly ran her finger over the fine sparkling etched inscription. “Three of them… This had to cost thousands…” She cringed as she realized the price to buy Tur was all but certainly out of her reach, at least if the armor was part of the deal, which she bet it would be. Still, she continued to examine the writing, “Repair and Cleansing charms. The third I don’t recognize. Vyrax, what does this say?”

Vyrax moved up and looked over the writing, “Growth and shrink but with added glyphs to link the two…” Vyrax snapped his fingers as it came to him. “Sizing. This allows the armor to perfectly size to you and will going forward, correct?”

“Such is my understanding, yes.” Tur smiled. “As for the cost, the neck guard was won, by me, off a Dragonling in an arena outside of Leopard Knolls. But it was on Chainmail made for the Dragonling. My master must have paid to have it removed and put on the armor I now wear. So while I am sure it was expensive, the main magic was not something he had to pay for. It is also on armor I can now wear without ill effects.”

Tur once again fingered the scales, “The owner of the Dragonling insulted my Master’s wife in a most foul way. He went so far as to offer her three copper coin to spend the night with him and a friend because she clearly was… I believe the term he used was ‘low-caste slum walker trash’.”

This got a round of ‘eww’, ‘geesh’, hard exhales, and even a ‘damnnnn’ or three out of nearly everyone in the room. Tur let out a snort, “This got the merchant slapped hard. However, the merchant only laughed and said the handprint my master’s wife left on his face proved his point.

“My master pulled me back and asked me if I could take the mid-teen-equivalent Brass Dragonling gladiator owned by the merchant.

“After seeing him fight right before me the night before, I was certain I could and said so. My master then had me state as much, quite loudly, while mocking both the Dragonling and his owner for lack of the merchant’s ability to gauge quality and for buying such pathetic fighting stock. The man lost it. He screamed and cussed and threatened to kill me on the spot. My master glanced over to a city guard who he knew well enough to pull the man back and offered me a challenge against the Dragonling.

“In his rage, the merchant fully agreed under the condition that the winner take full possession of all slaves of the other. Which was foolish on his part since my master only had me and one other with him while the merchant had the Dragonling and four others. The match was set as a special main event the following day. There were ten matches featuring muggers and cutthroats against various animals. They were followed by a trio of grudge matches between kids of the same castes who had broken laws fighting each other. It sounded like their fights had caused damage and this was the way they would pay the owners back. There was then two murderer verse murderer death matches. Finally, it was the two of us. I heard so many people bet against me there were not enough takers, so my master covered all of them, barely.”

Rebklos looked over with wide eyes, “So you took down a Dragonling in an arena?”

“It was a good fight,” Tur answered with a nod. “He was stronger. I was faster. I finally tripped him, jumped on his back, and slammed my metal gauntlet into his mouth and down his throat. This prevented him from being able to breathe on me while my Dragon Sectwarror armguards were too strong for his bite to damage me. He clawed me quite badly as he gagged over and over, but I grabbed something deep down his throat and refused to let go.

While he clawed at me, I punched him in the throat with my other hand repeatedly until his scales shattered. He attempted to roll so I was under him, but I was quick enough to stay on top of his side, while I never let go of whatever was down his throat.

He finally choked on his own vomit and pain as damage to his neck mounted. It got to the point where he collapsed and went into weird spasms. The pitmaster pulled me back while commanding me to pull my hand out of his mouth. I did so, but I pulled out part of his breath weapon sack and was able to hold it up for the crowd to see.”

While several eyes went wide, Tur pumped his fist, “It took two channelers and a Teaching Echelon Healthman to get me to traveling health, along with three days of me in bed. And even then, I was told I recovered far faster and better than expected by the Healthman. But to me, it was worth it. I have never had a crowd cheer so loudly for me before or since. It was a glorious fight!”

Taglon spoke up while actually taking a step back from Tur. “I look forward to seeing you in unrestrained combat, young one. However, as points of note, Legionnaires heal faster than other classes, and ring mail is the best armor for Legionnaires until they advance to Secondary Echelon… It is then they can utilize banded, splint, or scale mail without painful sores and other detriments. I have been told it is because the magic within makes their toughness more malleable or something along those lines.”

Tur didn’t seem to catch the implication. Instead, he responded, “I tried banded and splint mail. I could fight in it, OK, but it is bulky. And I really disliked splint, because I could not, cannot, bend in it the way I like. I fight better in scale mail because I can move quicker even though it is heavier than banded. I am lucky because my master spent much of the money I won in the fight against the Dragonling to have smaller scales than normal made and paid to have them overlap well to take away much of the danger of an upper thrust from pointed weapons. It is still something I am wary of and always take down pick fighters fast because of the natural weakness of scale mail to such weapons.”

“Tur,” Cusan whispered, “Um, I think you are missing the Royal Guardsman’s supposition, a guild-established one.”

Tur stopped and frowned, “Um, I am sorry… I got carried away… I apologize and accept punishment for my misunderstanding.”

“Nothing to apologize for and certainly nothing you should be punished for,” Taglon stated. “If anything, it was good to see you animated and open for all of us to catch a glimpse of who you really are.”

“Agreed,” Vyrax stated. “but what Royal Guardsman Taglon just put forth is one of the three primary testing points of advancement within the Legionnaire guild.”

“Which are?” Rebklos asked with a wary voice and expression.

Thul’mora answered. “My oldest brother is a Legionnaire and just received his silver guild pins, so I know them well. The first is the number of broad weapon proficiencies acquired. For Secondary Echelon, it is two. And since the slave can use an axehammer, he must be proficient with both an ax and a hammer. This means he has two. Blunt and short slashing. This also fits with his gladius, Dragon Scale Sect Warrior gauntlets, and dagger.

“Requirement two is the ability to wear armor up to the Echelon being sought. In this case, once again, Scale mail is within Secondary Echelon.

“Finally, the third requirement is an ability to take damage, lots of it. The testing Legionnaire is then checked on how quickly they heal from the damage done. I do not know exactly how it is gauged, but I saw the slave take fists both up on the street and down here. Most would have been damaged way worse by some of the blows I saw landed on his person. And the split lip and bloody spot on the head the little whelp gave him barely show. Um, other than the missing spot of hair… Anyway… Therefore, the slave certainly heals faster than most.”

“Which makes the little one’s fight against Tur even more remarkable,” Vendra added as she sidestepped over to the still-slumbering boy who had ripped out a section of Tur’s hair and lightly stroked his head.

Tur raised an eyebrow, “Commander are you all trying to tell me, not only am I guildable, I could possibly pass a Secondary Echelon test in this Legionnaire Guild?”

“Indeed we are,” Taglon stated. “In fact, I would consider placing a coin on it… Actually, given the chance, I would. For, certainly, there would be takers at heightened odds against it. However, the harder challenge may be within the Guild leadership to allow you to test into an advanced…”

Before could be said, the sound of a bar being dropped on the opposite side of the door Cuson figured his sister went through could be heard in the distance as it clattered to the floor. This was followed up by the screech of the door as it was shoved over stone. A girl’s voice echoed in the passage. “Is there anyone left in here!”

This was followed by a hissing deeper yet still feminine voice and a metal-on-metal clang. “If sssso, a little help would be welcome!”

Tur reached down and grabbed his axehammer while both Cusan and Torga grabbed weapons as they shouted, “Dassen! Jekka! We’re coming!”

Adga spun toward the sound, but stopped and held out arms blocking everyone. “Royal Guardsmen, hold here with Vyrax, Thul, and Reb! Ven, move in behind us in case there are dead walkers but everyone be ready to go either direction. We fall back, bar doors, and secure here if there is any sign the Dead Storm has made its way in here!”

Even as Adga glanced over to Gordech, the Falconling had pushed those with him back, had a cutlass in one hand, his other pointed to Thul’mora, and was staring at Cuson.

Cuson spoke, “He told the others with him to stay... He talked fast but I am pretty sure he once again put them under the female noble.”

Adga gave a single nod as she rushed toward the sound of combat.

 

Copyright © 2023 Kyle Aarons; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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