“Every Legion is divided into two distinct units, Cadet Molag Broner, what are those units?” I freeze for a second but I take a short deep breath to break the anxiety. “Sir, every Legion is divided into Companies and the Companies are divided into Cohorts sir!.” “Correct Cadet Molag, now first and foremost what does a Legionnaire fight for Cadet Rook?” The Cadet in question was a bulky man, roughly around my age. He would always brag about his days as a young boxer. “The Legionnaire fights for the honor and the preservation of the Remanian Empire.” The Lanistae, clearly unimpressed lets out a harsh southland curse and punches Rook in the stomach, making him clutch his stomach in pain “Cadet Rook! Do you mean to tell me that your honor is more important than the lives of your fellow Legionnaires?” Rook straightens his posture and lets out
I had completely forgotten how great beer tasted like, over the past 5 years the only drink we’d ever taste was either 2 week fermented “wine” or on special days blueberry rum. But even blueberry rum begins to taste like stale water after 5 years. So the taste of cold malt beer was one of the few things I had been looking forward to since the treaty. Over the past 30 minutes since Lurti’s knock out, Varkii and I must have tried over five kinds of grain ales. Varkii being the smart drinker was barely drunk yet but as for me, it was the opposite. Like Lurti I always was a weak drinker but I wasn’t looking forward to getting passed out. “I’m going out for some air.” I tell Varkii as I stumble towards the door.
“Legionnaire Molag Broner Cohort 46 3rd Company 17th Legion Bright Tigers, I’m here to check for the belongings of deceased Legionnaire Riiger Clarion also from Cohort 46 17th Legion Bright Tigers.”“Riiger Clarion? Knew the lad, he’d be sending letters whenever he could. Good with the sword but bad with the shield. Not too smart for a Remanian I’ll wager”“That’s him indeed sir, we both grew up in New Capua and also went to New Capuan Military Academy. He almost didn’t make it because of his slow shield arm.”“
By nightfall I had already woken up and the rest of the camp was already considerably rowdy, the smell of roasting meat and nearly every type of ale in existence was everywhere. Normally on a “peaceful day” we would conduct some combat drills to stay in shape but the war was over. By some crack in the laws of war we were all discharged so there was no point in conducting any more drills. Lurti and Varkii were out there enjoying themselves drinking their own skulls off with the rest of their unit. Normally a soldier like me would just enjoy the party but I wasn’t in the mood to endure the noise of an entire Remanian Legion going drunk, I’ve seen it enough times when veterans try to forget where they are. I just wanted to find some peace and quiet so I could read Riiger’s Journal. So I grab a goat leg and opt instead to go back to Iasi alone so
“So soldier, would wine do you good today? I know you’re not here for the ale” The barmaid asks. “Oh no thank you, water would be fine.” I reply. She gives me a puzzled look and then says “There’s probably some boiled water that has cooled down. I’ll go fetch you some.” Before she leaves she gives me a small wink and walks towards the kitchen. I try to guess why she gave me a puzzled look till I remembered that inside any Remanian city; water is as filthy as a pig’s ass. In the battlefield clean water was easier to get by because we always left some buckets out for the rains. Here in the city people would rather drink ale and rum to avoid whatever diseases had cooked up in the water. Of course folks around would boil water but boiling hot water isn’t something you’d be drinking instantly. The barmaid arrived in a few minutes carrying a mug of
I wake up to the sting of cold water and the site of Varkii standing beside my bed with a bucket in his hand. Varkii, realizing I’m still half asleep pours another bucket of cold water at me. “What was that for!?” I yell at him as I get off the bed. “Get up strap on your armor, we don’t have time” This was the first time I had seen the whole Iasi camp under duress. Hundreds of soldiers were running around in full battle gear, I could hear the Centurion’s whistling along with the confusion of the many soldiers who had just woken up from their hangovers. “Varkii, what’s going on?” I ask him while I step off my bed desperately bearing through the pain in my leg while I search for my sword under a pile of bottles and pig bones. “There’
“Providence’s Mercy Lurti, my burned leg is killing me.” “Calm down Molag, just put on that Crimson Arrow oil when we can sit down and it’ll be good as new. Oh yes, hide that thing, it’s worth two bags of gold remember?.” Lurti and I had been following Centurion Trosdig for at least 3 minutes now; I didn’t realize how busy the camp was till I reached the camp’s main road. Dozens of riders and knights were frantically trying to clear the way for their horses while Engineers were pushing all manner of artillery into positions. The Grand Guns, sitting on their Coal Engines were already being positioned for mobilization; the sound of their hissing engines was something I would never get tired of. But the one thing that we Legionnaires would always leave us in awe was the sight of a Towergunner. The familiar roar of Remas’s fabled bipedal war machine could be heard echoing all
After what seemed like an entire day of formation planning, battle strategies and logistical drivel we were finally dismissed and allowed to leave. By the time we left the tent, all the Towergunners had left their bays and were positioned at the roads leaving camp. The hissing noise their engines made was grating to the ear, but was something everyone got used to. At the camp’s main road other companies were marching off to wherever they were being sent off to. I could see some of their faces; they all had the looks of frustration on them. The same look that even I and the officers of the 3rd
The perimeter we formed was basically still the Hammer formation but with us surrounding the Towergunners and the Captain. Lurti and Trosdig were then called off to an officer’s meeting; ironically now that I wasn’t a scribe I had felt rather envious of my replacement Leris. All these events, the expression on the Captain’s face, it all felt rather intriguing. Why was the General ordering us to arrest Lord Rubin Gavlin? And why did it need roughly 600 soldiers and 3 of Da Vinci’s war machines to arrest him? I ask Varkii and the rest in my squad and they felt the same. “When this is all over, I want to have a long chat with the Captain” Varkii says rather angrily. One of the older soldiers in the squad Joram puts his hand on Varkii’s shoulder and calms his down. Joram was a rather quiet soldier and also one of the oldest. He was bald but his eyebrows were white giving us an idea of what his age was, h