"Any of you used explosives before?" Tiberius asked the assembled company.
Former Grenadier Keitaro nodded his head. "Used to sir, not allowed anymore."
"You know why they've never made me an officer, Keit'?"
"No sir"
"Because I don't follow the bloody rules." Tiberius shot him a grin as he threw the elf and Junior Arcanist Thomas some explosive charges. Their mission was simple: march to the Orcish mines in Yew, collect twenty thousand coins in loot, and blow the whole forge network sky high. Dangerous work, but standard fare for the Covian army.
But this mission was different. This mission was personal. Tiberius was lying -
they had made him an officer. And because of what happened in cursed valley of the Orcs, they had
unmade him.
***
Ever since Tiberius had escaped from a life of backbreaking work in the Minoc mines, the Tel'marian Mercenaries had been his family. All he'd known was loyalty to his comrades in arms, and that the job didn't matter, as long as it paid. He fought the Yewish Guardsmen, the Samurai, and the Celt. Sometimes in disguise, sometimes openly. Sometimes all in the same day. It didn't matter. The contracts flooded in, and he steadily rose in the ranks. Directors of the company came and went: Ketrid, the half-drow and his endless drilling; Angus Black and his endless drinking. It seemed like this was home for life. But there were no certainties when coin was your mistress.
Angus called Tiberius into the office, his face was grave and his tone serious - unusual for so jovial a man. "What's the matter, ran out of the good stuff? Or ye still feeling yesterday?" Tiberius asked with a grin, but without a word Angus placed a badge down on the table. Eventually he broke the silence. "It's over. We're broke." Tiberius processed the information slowly.
"Sir?""Unless we can make five hundred thousand coins by the end of the month, we're done for. Finished. Disbanded."Tiberius fell silent; such a sum of money would be almost impossible to raise. He shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the badge. Director. It had a ring to it.
"Sir. I can get it done."Angus gave a wary look. Tiberius was only just into his twenties, young and overconfident. Maybe he was just the right man for the job. Maybe he was just the wrong man for the job.
"Don't make me regret this.""I won't let you down, sir." Director Tiberius. Tib grinned and scooped up the badge. Hell, he'd even get his own horse. Five hundred thousand. How hard could it be?
***
The Covians kept becoming lost in the thick woods around the Orc valley. Tiberius let his gaze dart nervously between the dense trees, mopping his brow as he motioned for all to stay close. They didn't know who used to dwell here - they had only known the slow witted Orc tribes of Glenmore. They had never gone toe to toe with
the Orcs of Tolagāl - the devious and scheming Uruks who laboured under their King who built these mines.
The deeper the guardsmen went into the valley, the more it seemed like those Uruks were long gone. The Covians were making short work of the bedraggled and weakened orcs that populated the forest. But seeing this place made Tiberius uneasy. Last time he'd been here, he wasn't an invader. He was a guest.
***
The month was almost up. Four hundred and eighty thousand. It was an incredible amount by any standard, and the Company had gone through hell and back to get it. But it wasn't enough. Any sane person would have called it quits then. But for Tiberius, to be so close and yet so far was burning him up. It was clouding his judgement. He paced around the headquarters, while Ryan Greystone lent back on a stool.
"Come on Tib, cut it out. You did all you could.."He was about to reply when a hooded figure stepped forth. Its movements were unnatural, its speech halting and monotone.
"I hear you have money troubles. I wish to hire you." Tiberius regarded the figure for a moment.
"I've got a bad feeling about this guy, boss." Greystone interjected. The figure spoke again.
"Twenty thousand gold for your time. Just follow me. Alone."The duo trekked for what seemed like an age, Tel'mar long vanishing into the distance as they entered the thick woods of the Tolagāl Valley. The very sun itself was blotted out under an unnatural cloud of smoke rising from the mines. All around the clatter of hammers on metal reverberated. Tiberius anxiously felt the pommel of his sword, but the chances of swinging it here and living were slim. He was ushered up the staircase of an imposing keep, a place reeking of death and filth. As he ascended the stairs, his eyes widened as they saw the sight at the top. He was in the Court of the Orcish King Magrekh, the cruel and vile ruler of all Orcish kind in Yew. A host of skeletal warriors and Orcs of all shapes and sizes were gathered before him, paying tribute in his warped Court. All suddenly turned their gaze on the young mercenary.
***
Cadet Leanne, though wounded, dragged him the Senior Guardsman to his feet. Tereleith gave Tiberius a firm slap across the face. Junior Arcanist Thomas looked on, concerned.
"He's lost it this time." The Arcanist surmised. The winding maze of mine shafts was all a blur. Fire and explosions had become a dull, aching white noise. Whispered accusations seemed to emanate from the walls. Each gold count he requested seemed to fall short of the twenty thousand for the duty. It was mocking him.
***
"But Sir, we can't work for -them-" Greystone protested.
"They.. they're evil!" "We work for whoever pays us. And they're paying. We kill Yew militiamen all the time, what's the difference?""But Tib... you know it is against the charter. We don't work for... the Guardian. It's not right!""I'm in charge!" Tiberius slammed his gauntlet onto the stone desk with a dull thud.
"We're doing it. You with me, or not!?"The Company gathered itself, clad in the red robes of unborns - those deranged seekers of immortality through pact with the Guardian. Beneath the foreboding mountains of Tolagāl, the forces of evil gathered, and the mercenaries gathered along with them. They were to attack Stonekeep - just a raid, just to instil a little fear into the militiamen. Just like any other job, right...?
The march from the valley to Stonekeep was a short one, a lone trainee guarding the crossroads of Yew.
"W-who goes there!?" he cried out. A crackling of bones and a loosing of war cries replied, as he fell to many blades, cut down in seconds. Tiberius paused to look over the fresh corpse, the young trainee's face contorted in horror and surprise. Just like any other job...?
The battle itself was a blur, a din of steel on steel in the crowded hallways of Stonekeep. Guardsmen rushed from their bunks to grab weapons, some making it, others slaughtered where they stood. Tiberius watched on, mouth agape in horror. Suddenly a searing pain - he looked to his side just in time to see a Waywatcher's poison coated blade sink between the plates of his armour.
Darkness.
***
"Get us out of here, witches!"Terelieth obliged, opening a portal back the barracks. The gold was piled on the ground, always a difficult thing to count by eye, but Tiberius was a man with enough experience to know that wasn't twenty thousand.
It wasn't enough. The mines of the Orcish King had been destroyed. The soldiers had preformed their duty to their best. But Tiberius turned his back on them, striding up the barracks stairs, casting his uniform aside.
***
He opened his eyes. He was in the Tel'mar infirmary. Someone had dragged him from the fight. Greystone was at his bedside.
"Heh, boss you're alive!" he chirped.
Tiberius responded weakly.
"I did it Greystone. I saved the company."Greystone averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Yeah... but we've been talking. We don't think you're the man to lead it."Tiberius looked down, his badge nowhere to be seen.
Darkness again.***
A letter penned to Captain Morana.
Sir,
I led a company on an expedition to fulfil the guardsman duty: Orcish extermination. It was attended by Junior Arcanist Thomas Alymer, Watchman Tereleith, Cadet Leanne Melinor, Regular Guardsman Keitaro, and Regular Grenadier Gimbly.
Despite destroying the mines, we were only able to collect eighteen thousand gold.
It wasn't enough.
I have let you and the army down.
But I will redeem myself.
*signed.*
Senior Guardsman,
Tiberius Kane.
Author