Answering the Call of Duty: War Training

[Octiovus]

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Tiberius awoke in a haze, his humble cottage in the Covetowne covered more in empty ale bottles than furnishings. He let out a long sigh, running his hand through his grey hair before staring into the basin of water. It was no longer the fresh faced young mercenary staring back. He was old now. He grunted, for a brief moment reflecting on it. But out of the window, he caught a glimpse of a proud watchman already manning the walls of Cove, the tan banners fluttering behind him. Tomorrow, he might be dead. Every generation has their war - that's army life. But this one... were they ready for it? He moved over to a wardrobe, slowly turning the heavy iron key. He pulled a pristine sash from it, looking over his campaign medals, some Tel'marian, some Covian. The battles of the East Post. The wars against the Undead and the Orcs. The Kaldor Campaign. The Minoc Campaign. The Battle of Yew Abbey. The medals abruptly stopped, causing him to pause. There was still room for one more. He shot a half grin to himself, snatching the sash up and putting it on. Who, if not him?

He'd seen more Covian soldiers march out from the parade ground than he cared to remember. He'd been drilling soldiers in the art of war for well... seemingly as long as war itself had been around. But with all the glory hunting and parading, they'd gone soft. Then again, maybe so he had he. He eyed the collection of ale bottles, grabbing each in turn and hurling them from his window into the bay. Enough. He quickly pulled on his armour, stepping into his boots, using the water's reflection to make sure his cap was properly in place. He unhooked the halberd from its latch above the hearth, throwing his door open before striding out into the Covian sunrise, running swiftly along the coast, shooting the watchman a hurried salute. It was time. Before long he'd reached the barracks, ringing the bell frantically. "COVIANS, TO ARMS! TO ARMS!!!!"

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Few came at first. The untrusted watchman Tingleith and Regular Cowin ambled up the stairs. Hell, may as well start with the those in need of most training Tiberius smirked to himself. He lent on his halberd. Soon the Yewish militiamen arrived in healthy numbers, and the odd scout Eben slunk onto the grounds, the sheepish Junior Palmer tardy but in tow. Lastly one of the Churchmen arrived - the Initiate is all they seemed to call him. Didn't say much, but certainly had kept his armour shining. It was quite a motley crew, but this was never going to be easy. It was time to start with the basics. What wins wars? Healing. Targeting. Listening to Orders. Preparation. But most of all - being bloody awake in the first place.

With Palmer, Sward and Captain Wilkes laying into them, the assembled troops on the parade ground had a sharp wake up call delivered to their shoulders, stomachs, and just about everywhere else. A few collapsed straight away, unable to keep up with the pace of the healing training. Tiberius wrestled them gruffly to their feet. Targeting was next. Everyone loves running about like headless chickens - may as well let them get used to it. He let all the troops on the parade ground race off around the arena, calling each in turn to be downed. They were improving. Just a little. Time for the real shock.

He nodded to the scout and the shimmering portal to Nujel'm was opened, the blazing heat bearing down on them as soon as they stepped through, dust whirling all around in the acrid air. "HOPE YOU LIKE HEAT, BOYS!" Tiberius bellowed, a bead of sweat on his brow. The town square had been prepared, Cowin and Wilkes taking charge of the teams. In the confined space of that dainty square, sword met arrow, spells shot by.  Shocked footmen and trainees littered the floor, heat and exertion wearing them down. The Covians weren't faring much better.

Tiberius grunted, sliding his helm on. He slipped into Cowin's team and sent Captain Wilkes to defend the Palace. He huddled the men around. Targets. Healing. Team work. He glanced between the gathered few souls, nodding as they set out. The fighting in the Sultan's palace was fierce - the long corridors reverberating with the thudding  sound of running boots. Priceless heirlooms clattered to the floor. Militiamen and Covians fought atop tables. The Initiate ran by with a train of assailants in tow, parrying their blows with ease. "Is that all you can muster!?" he chided them. The whole thing was chaotic, loud, confusing and too damn hot. Just like a real war, Tiberius grinned to himself. The men were battered - but they were starting to get it.

The palace thoroughly remodelled, they returned to the square. Covians and Yewlanders divided fully into their own teams at last. The Covians nodded to each other with determined purpose before the strength of their combined arms swiftly overcame that of their allies. Tiberius and the others briskly helped the Yewlanders up, before he surveyed the men. Just the free for all left.

All took their place in the crowded square, arms gleaming as the high sun reflected on them, each man marking his opponent. The silence was broken by Tiberius' bark: "GO!" Mayhem and the clash of steel upon steel was soon all that could be seen or heard, and many were swift to fall. He knew after running a gruelling training, most liked nothing better than to have their revenge and he was soon kissing the stone and sand himself as Sheriam's sword glanced off his helm. Eventually the ranks thinned to just two: Sheriam and the Initiate, toe toe toe, shield to shield. All watched on with surprise and intrigue in this contest between the Army and the Church; but just as their blades locked, the Junior suddenly stepped back and yielded. Was she afraid to offend Avatar? Or did she just not want to be knocked on her arse? Who knows.

Tiberius glanced around the impromptu training ground with a contented nod. The men were exhausted, sandy, and bruised. But above all - they were ready. Hell, they might even stand a chance in the war to come.

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Covian Attendees:

(Hosting) Senior Guardsman: Tiberius Kane
Arcanist Corporal: Elizabeth Martin
Regular Guardsman: Jassi Cowin
Junior Scout: Eben Roichar
Junior Guardsman: Sheriam Palmer
Untrusted Watchman: Tingleith
Initiate: Danaeyl