95 Chapter Ninety-Five – War on the Warpbands (1/2)
-Up, you two,- I /informed the dozing lads. Briggs's eyes snapped open instantly, and Estemar grunted and blinked a few times, coming out of his Meditation. -They've found two more Warpbands. We're off to make some contributions.
-Well, you're contributing, I'm playing sniper and director.- I had stacked up Carrier with cabinets already, and was ready to go, having taken my rest after Renewal at midnight.
The boys moved to Forge, this time Estemar tossing a cloak over it in consideration of its workmanship. A moment later, we were in motion.
”What are we looking at?” Briggs asked aloud, but after getting a Tat, it was a mental thing too.
”Beastmen, about two thousand. The elves are already setting up to pincer them, but they've got warp wolves out to scout out victims, so they may or may not be revealed in time.”
”None of those centaur rip-offs?” Briggs found that pretty weird.
”Warp Harpies.” Briggs rolled his eyes. ”Hey, no enchanting song is something!”
”They think they are dangerous,” grunted Briggs. ”Just tell the elves to Web them, their wings are fouled, and down they'll come.”
”Yeah, they kind of snickered when they saw them, just have to get them out of line of sight of support, then ambush the wolves when they come in to investigate. If they split up, they'll just poke them out of the sky.” A couple arrows laden with spells would do the trick to any harpy.
Briggs just hummed. ”Any special reason we're heading there?” he asked.
”Nope. Just kill a company or two of them, and we'll move on to the next one.”
Briggs gave me a funny look. ”I might be, but there's no way they're going to stop you Marking them once this battle starts. You're going to be Tatting for hours.”
I inclined my head in acknowledgement. ”Yeah, but I need to Tat multiple forces working together, not all in one unit, until we're all linked up. If they wanted me Tatting everyone, then they wait until we're all one big happy family.”
”Plus, it is far more useful for you to be on overwatch against a truly terrible being appearing, yes?”
”Paladin thinking like a Mitharn is a dangerous first step,” I winked at him, and he grinned despite himself.
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It was probably a sign of how seriously the elves took the incoming force of beast-men that they had no problem rotating in their elites to get Tats in the middle of the fight. It didn't seem to affect my ability to track and command at all, either.
General Moonriver became a true believer after a series of formation rotations presented him a perfect firing line for an Empowered Lightning Bolt down the full length of the beastmen line, cooking dozens of them with one spell. An illusionary line of brush completely screened out their lancers, who plunged into right flank with basically total surprise. Their shaman died to three arrows arcing over a hill, completely out of sight, and burying themselves in his chest, borrowing the eyes of a scout up in a tree to guide the One Arrows in faultlessly.
Rains of arrows messed up enemy movements, minor spells were cast together and tore apart the minotaurs and manotaurs that were the toughest of enemy troops, as eating thirty-some Shards was not conducive to long life. Overlapping and ever-shifting lines broke the wild and overconfident beastmen out of any semblance of formations that they might have had, and they were punished for it with sweeps, surrounds, pincer movements, and abrupt charges that rapidly shattered any sense of cohesion they had, and they turned into just a savage mob going up against a disciplined wall of shields, spears, and swords, with the pinpoint archery only making things worse.
The enemy shaman only got to display one use of his warped battle magic, a life-sucking spells that affected dozens of the elves… and pinpointed him for the waiting archers who killed him. The drained elves were relieved immediately, running over the Healing Trap to get rid of the worst of the interrupted spell, and moved into reserve positions with the archers… which they were happy to punish the beast-men from.
Spell expenditure was pretty minor for what they accomplished, but even the best of their battlemasters was awed by the smoothness and synchronicity of what had happened. They saw how the coordinated movements had the beastmen ripping their own lines apart to deal with them, devolving into a mass of confusion as they didn't know who was coming from where and when. Multiple groups were pulled into pincer movements and annihilated with speed, precision arrow fire delayed or blocked others, sending them in other directions or simply stopping them in place dumbly, to await the advance of the elves along precise lines that drew them even further out of formation.
There were only a couple instances that mandated using magic, mostly Lightning Touches through spears to totally obliterate a frothing mad charge, eliminating the first and second ranks instantly, which didn't do the third rank much good.
I gave them only three hours, which was nowhere near enough, of course, before heading to the ambush the Rangers were setting up nearly ten miles away. This group seemed to have a more powerful trio of Casters with them, well protected in an ensorcelled chariot with a built-in altar, and regularly sweeping the forests with units of Warp Wolves and riders to sniff out any ambushers. They had a powerful sort up in the air on a manticora, the scorpion-tailed version, just brimming with arrogance and looking for a fight.
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”How'd you do?” I asked Briggs, as I booked for the next fight. Despite the terrain, I'd be there in twenty minutes, tops.
”Got to take on the chief's main company. Didn't get to kill him, he ate thirty Shards to the face, good targeting, but I did for all his bodyguards,” Briggs answered calmly. ”Estemar got himself a couple solo kills, too, while he was watching my back.” Briggs gave the young prince a friendly elbow.
The Paladin was holding his new Sword and Shield, made for him the night before by both Briggs and Sama. While they were only starter Gear at the moment, they were easy to build up, and fairly exuded a level of quality he'd never had for his own before. ”Carefully chosen Smites!” he responded promptly. Both nodded.
”Should I tell you what the elves think of you after witnessing your Hammer at work?” I asked archly. Elves were born finesse fighters, considering axes, hammers, and the like brutal and crude.