The Butcher of Gadobhra

The miles passed quickly as the Shepherd's flock followed along safe paths. Twice they came to broken bridges across treacherous ice-covered rivers. The Shepherd tapped his crook on the ground and a bridge of stone grew from either side, as wide as his flock. The horses were nervous about going across but the wagons pulled by the Contract Workers didn't miss a stride as Rolly jogged across and they followed.

General Themis had a short explanation when both Claudia and Harmonia questioned her about the magical bridges. "Prior proper planning prevents piss poor performance." It was the Legion's unofficial motto and both women had heard it a hundred times before.

House Franklin's version was, "Look good, think fast, and make things up as you go."

The Red Banner had formerly used the simple words, "Ready to ride" that were embroidered on their banners. That had changed unofficially recently to "Have sausage, will travel."

After the second bridge, the last ten miles of their trip brought them to the Crystalthorn Collegium of Arcane Runecasters, or what was left of it. The small village, stables, and secondary buildings surrounding the college had been reduced to rubble. Every window in the tall tower was shattered and dark. The building had taken major damage on the side that had formerly faced the sanitarium. Where that tall tower had stood, there were a few large rocks covered in ice, with rubble scattered everywhere.

The area between the sanitarium and the college, and for several hundred yards around the college, was swept clean of snow leaving hard-packed ground without loose dirt or sand. Blackened and glassy areas showed where fire magic had beaten back the ice. The cold wind and surrounding snow made clear it was a siege and not a battle that had taken place here. Soldiers headed to the college, waving flags to avoid being roasted by a twitchy and exhausted defender. From the higher stories of the college, a few people waved and cheered and a ragged banner was run up a pole.

As soon as they arrived, Rolly found a rock and sat down with his back against it. This was the first time the Shepherd had used the staff to lead such a large flock and for so long. Knowing how tired he must be, and how much Rolly normally ate, Ozzy pulled his wagon up to him to block the wind and provide some warmth. The Butcher handed him a plate of Sedgewick Special Sausages and a jug of Apple Kickass. The sausage barrel was left open next to him, knowing this was only the first plate Rolly would eat.

Themis dismounted and joined them, helping herself to food, "That was impressive. Unexpected and impressive. Can you do that again? It will be handy for a quick retreat or fast journey home."

"Tomorrow, I can. Both me and my crook need a break."

"Good enough. Everyone else will need a break as well. The horses need time to recover, although they're in better shape than expected. Get some rest and be ready to leave tomorrow at dawn."

Ozzy looked around at the encircling snow. "Doesn't feel right."

Themis agreed. "It feels like a trap. Get your wagons in a defensive square and we'll form a defensive camp around them. I hear your people are good at digging."

Ozzy grinned, "Yep, and we brought several dozen Dark Steel shovels with us. Normal ones break too easily. Trench and berm with the wagons as fortifications, I assume."

Themis nodded, that was exactly what she wanted. "Exactly. Something to slow down a charge and give us the high ground."

From the wagons, came the sound of Jorge's voice, "Ten wagons per side in a square, no gaps. Start the ditch six feet from the edge of the wagons and give me a berm that slants from the side of the wagon down into the ditch. Get moving."

Both of them looked on as half the workers arranged the wagons and the other half started digging as Jorges placed stakes showing where he wanted the ditch. The frozen ground meant nothing to workers with Dig4 and the dirt flew as they worked in teams walking around the perimeter of the camp.

Themis nodded to the Butcher, "Or, we can let the man that built Rowan Keep handle things how he wants to do them."

The Butcher agreed, "Yep, sounds like a plan. And I'm going to get cooking. It was nice of Ben to provide me some fresh meat."

"Lord, the lackeys of the warmlander emperor have arrived at our hated foe's gates. What are your orders?"

An annoyed Callendish Maer ignored Fabian's question as he examined the cover of a locked book of spells that a raid into the college had liberated. The book had been in a locked display made of extremely hard crystal with warning signs and a rope barrier around it. Such an obviously valuable book was a prize the team of Rime Knights had desired to present to him. Only one made it back after the crystal display exploded and impaled the rest of the team. Luckily, one had made it back before he died and presented the High Mage with the prize. Callendish had been delighted with the gift and actually patted the dying warrior on the head as he lay bleeding on the ground. He was less happy now, a day later, when he couldn't figure out how to unlock the book and pilfer the arcane secrets inside. As Fabian waited for the High Mage to answer, Callendish found that one small rivet holding the cover together could be depressed. Doing so resulted in a small 'click' and then a surge of non-magical electrical energy that paralyzed Callendish where he sat and did terrible things to his carefully combed hair, as well as enough damage to kill a dozen horses. The book, however, remained locked.

"Dammit, can't you idiots see that I'm busy? What is so important that you interrupt my studies?"

"The warmlander troops, sir. The trap for them?"

"Oh, that. Yes, take this pamphlet prepared by General Rhodhan when we last fought against the empire. It has invaluable advice on how to proceed. I appoint you to the very prestigious position of 'General for the Day'. Thank you for volunteering. Hold a victory party when you've drawn out the warmlander wizards from their lair and killed them all. Consider all forces, including yourself, as expendable." ŕ

General Fabian retreated and hastily scanned the pamphlet. It was quite thin.

So, you've got some warmlander problems? Follow these easy steps for victory.

1. The key to victory is killing them and not letting them kill you and that means killing any Mage, Wizard, Sorcerer, or Hedge Witch that can use Fire or Heat. Destroy those, and victory is nearly assured. The icy winds and bitter cold that invigorate our troops will slow and harm any troops brought by the warmlanders. Use your Ice Mages and Beastmasters to find sources of Heat and Fire. They will stand out like beacons in the cold. Do not underestimate your foe! Better a hammer strike using your best troops than risking defeat as you send small units that will be defeated each time. Strike hard at the dangerous part of their army, and then hunt the rest across the tundra as they flee!

2. Warmlanders bring with them huge amounts of food, fuel, and grain for their tasty mounts. To cripple their army, raid their baggage trains. These are often poorly defended. Toss out some troops, and wait for the idiots to yell 'Charge!' While your expendable troops are being slaughtered, send fast-moving troops to kill their draft animals, raid the wagons, and destroy any food you can't carry off.

3. Cold is your friend. Use your Storm and Ice Mages to drop the temperature.

4. Everyone is expendable! Even yourself, but you can go last. Don't hesitate to commit your troops, we have more!

5. Don't let them annoy you with distractions. Warmlanders delight in using smaller, faster troops mounted on horses to decoy our troops and disguise their plans. Ignore them. Find their main army, and crush it. The annoying scouts will die without support, or flee south, telling stories of the terrible foes they faced.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Glory to Winter! Crush those that invade our lands!

Fabian read it through three times, then gathered together the leaders of the Beastmasters, Ice Mages, Rime Knights, and Snow Callers, giving orders to carefully scout the enemy and find their main army, their Mages, and their baggage train. Winter's troops were massed and moved into position. He would send his beasts to attack the baggage train while the Jotun, Rime Knights, and Ice Walkers attacked the Mages.

The scouts reported back, those that survived. The enslaved Wind Sprites were a disappointment. The enslaved fairies were the best scouts that Winter had. Invisible, fast, and able to avoid magical traps. Yet all seven broke their bonds, fleeing and laughing as they approached the camp. But two small air elementals riding high in the air spied down upon the camp and avoided the patrols of ducks. They even found the enemy Beastmaster who commanded the foul fowl. Within the defensive formation the warmlanders had made with their baggage, they found the enemy fire mages. A dozen minor sources linked to Fire were identified, along with a Molten Mage, and a towering source of Heat and Fire that could only be Caldrius. More concerning was a Mage who had summoned a towering inferno of Heat and Smoke, aided by a demonic familiar. According to the pamphlet, destroying that was the first priority.

But, the warmlanders had made it easy on General Fabian. Their Mages, baggage train, and main army were all in one spot! Everything else they had brought to fight with were the annoying scouts that he could save for last. He sent out orders to gather all of the Winter forces and send them from several directions to the little fortress where the warmlanders were hiding. His Storm and Ice mages were told to drop the temperature as low as they could in that area, turning it into a frozen tomb. When all was ready, his army would engage while he watched from the rear, as any good general did.

Themis could feel the cold. The temperature was dropping rapidly, despite the number of fires they had going in the camp. She'd expected it, and her soldiers all had warm cloaks to help while on patrol. And sleeping would be easier in the wagons with their covers and furred blankets. The question was how much colder it would get.

Within the first hour, the Contract workers had dug a ten-foot wide, ten-foot deep ditch around the camp, packing the walls hard so they wouldn't crumble, and building up the berm in front of the wagons, preventing any creature from going under them. The wooden sides protected the soldiers from their waists down and allowed them to strike down on their foes with spears. Themis deployed two soldiers inside each wagon with a reserve of twenty to charge wherever the enemy charged. The dozen Fire Mages that Claudia had found in Wolfsburg with scattered about.

In the center of camp was an infirmary tent with two healers, and a long line of tapped kegs dispersing stamina, health, and mana potions. It was an unheard-of amount of potions for a force of this size, and she was glad to have them. Minor wounds could be taken care of with a mug of potion, leaving the Healers free to deal with more serious injuries. And free to spend their mana, knowing that a refill was nearby.

The cavalry was drinking the golden apple wine to restore themselves as they groomed their horses. Given a choice of wine or bad-tasting potions, she knew what her soldiers preferred. More than one horse got a taste as well, with a cup of wine added to the high-quality groats freshly harvested in the Barony of Gadobhra. Dark beer was tapped and the cooks were dumping barrels of sausage into the cookpots.

Evacuating the remains of the college was an ongoing struggle. Many were injured and had to be carried from the rubble-filled hallways. There was some resistance from the older mages, driven crazy with cold and mana deprivation, but they came around when they smelled food and fresh coffee. In the most protected area of the camp was a colorful wagon dispensing tacos and burritos that put enough fire in a soldier's belly that it let them ignore the cold even if it burned their tastebuds to cinders. Around Myrna's taco wagon, the brownies swarmed, dispensing hot coffee and tea. The soldiers pointed out the Imperial Seal of Approval painted on the side, but word spread to avoid the 'Gus Special' unless you had a caste iron stomach and the Fire Eater skill.

The refugees from the college were settled into the center of the camp, wrapped in warm blankets, and given any restorative that they needed. This included slices of hot smoked meat from the largest cookfire. Ozzy had dug a pit and dumped fuel from his bag, lighting a roaring inferno that threw flames twenty feet in the sky and drove back the cold. As the flames died down and the smoke grew heavy, he put the carcass of the snarlfang on a spit, slathered on a sweet barbecue sauce, and wrapped it in a dozen layers of Smoke with a dense core of Heat in the middle. Normally, cooking a frozen carcass the size of a hippo would take days. Ozzy's method of forced Heat and Smoke, with all the juices held inside, had it finished in two hours.

Caldrius sat nearby, watching the process and noting that the Butcher was barely using any of his own resources. The pit burning hickory logs and screaming coal provided all that was needed. Chainey kept the roasting beast turning and was careful about maintaining smoke and temperature. The entire camp was watching as Ozzy peeled back a layer of Smoke and began carving fifty-pound chunks of steaming meat from the carcass. He left it to the Legion cooks to make sure everyone got fed while Caldrius gathered the remains of the college around the fire where they could draw in the mana it threw off.

Baron Fallowstone accepted a plate of roasted snarlfang and felt his muscles relax as his mana reservoirs began filling. The senior mages were all sick with mana deprivation and frostbite. They'd kept fighting long after the younger mages and students had huddled in corners, sick from starvation and unable to generate any mana. He was happy to leave this place, even though it had been the heart of his Barony.

Anyone who wasn't near Ozzy's fire felt it when the temperature dropped another ten degrees. Themis strode to Caldius and Ozzy quickly, "If this gets any worse, people will freeze to death. What do we have for options?"

"Can I be of service? I would love to flex my wizardly muscles and test them against the might of the Winter Mages. I'm still upset at the mess they made in my rooms."

Themis turned and saw a man dressed in robes similar to an Ice Mage but with a tall pointed hat. Silver moons and stars decorated the robe and hat. Long white hair and a flowing beard completed Delbert's look, and he was quite proud of it. Themis looked at Ozzy, who just gave a thumbs up. "If you can help, I'd appreciate it."

Delbert was overjoyed. He strode into the center of the camp and spread his arms wide, pushing back the cold air with a glowing sphere of light and maintaining an even 68 degrees in all parts of the camp. "There, that should be better."

Caldrius stared at what Delbert was doing. "Is that a variant of a Heat Shield spell? It seems highly efficient."

"It's my own invention. I call it Delberts Temperature Control Sphere. I'm so happy I got to test it out in these conditions. Let me get a plate of meat and I will be happy to discuss my studies with my fellow wizards."