The Old City

0.6: Prelude to Battle

Each of our three protagonists slept peacefully that night for the first time in years. Home at last, they thought. All that time apart, those days on the battlefield and at sea, isolation, torture, and fear. The mere act of seeing each other, rekindling what had been thought gone forever. While the world laughed at their struggle, they had survived and they had returned. It felt like the beginning of a new era.

While they slept though, Soran already seemed to revolt against this shifting of the tides.

Down squalid streets and in disheveled buildings, meetings unfolded among others who hoped to shape Soran's future. This was a night of plotting and mischief.

"We attack in one week," said Marek, the vestiges of his accent clinging to his voice despite his years in Soran. His dark face hung over a map as he pored over his soon-to-be battleground and pointed at the key locations. "Boyar and I will work my way around the city with the second and third squads in the next four days. Our safe houses are stocked so once I give the signal, we will move. Kill anyone still on the streets. We will spread out so they can't tell how may of us there are and once we draw them out, Firkaan will bring the first, fourth, and fifth squads down from the north. My teams will work our way to these buildings to regroup, at which point we are dug in. We jump from building to building until we reach their stronghold and then we cut the Phoenix's heart out."

Marek's council was small, just four men and two women. Danger lurked in their shadows, cast long against the walls in the dim candlelight. Each magician knew that in one week's time they might all be dead. For all their conniving, sometimes a battle simply comes down to numbers. It was a solemn gambit, one they were wholly committed to for the sake of the future Marek envisioned.

"What of their monster?" asked Pernita, the newest squad leader. Her face was perpetually covered by a hood, but even in this darkness, the thin red line that ran from her left eye to the corner of her mouth was visible, betraying her preternatural bloodlust. "I want to fight him."

"You must join the attack from the north. I very much doubt they have an answer for you, darling. I have a plan for Granada." Marek nodded at his most trusted advisor Firkaan.

Not a very good one, thought he.

"You aren't leadin' the first squad?" Boyar inquired when he finished ingesting the formations on the map. Five lines had been drawn – one for each leader and squad except for the sixth, which was led by their two newest leaders until more members joined, and the first, which Marek himself typically oversaw. The token denoting this group had been left at the corner of the map. Not forgotten, but conspicuously unplaced.

"Firkaan and his brother will command my squad this time. I will need more men to convince them we have truly come around from the docks, but they will need stronger magicians." Had Marek wanted to elaborate, he would have. Instead, he leaned back and spread his arms. "Do not fear the coming battle for it is already won. The Black Phoenix just don't know it yet. Remind your people: whoever brings back the highest bounty shall be promoted. Whoever brings back the most scalps gets first choice of their loot."

Greedy smiles erupted throughout the war room.

***

To the south, the lord of the Black Phoenix was making plans of his own. Or rather, he listened as plans were made around him. In their underground bunker, Lucien Pteras's advisors bickered about defenses and tactics while he looked on, bored.

"The only question that matters is when those bastards come."

"My patrols are walkin' every inch of the border and men at the ready in case they get past those patrols," reiterated Katulus. The strategist of the Black Phoenix was unusually tense on this night, perhaps due to the new advisor present. "I doubled the guard near Ward Two in case they try something from the south. No Silver Bear will cross our territory without our knowin'."

"Why can't we just go over there now and kill them all?" complained Salvara. The bulky, dirty-blonde woman fiddled with the hilt of the axe strapped to her back. "It'd be faster than waitin' for them to come to us."

"They will have traps as we do. I can't wait for this battle to begin, but we will not be provoked into stupidity. For all our numbers, we shouldn't rush into their slaughterhouse when they feel obliged to walk into mine."

Mordat interjected, "I could send a few kids into their territory. Marek might not think they pose a threat."

"Do it," came Lucien's authoritative command.

"Marek is as violent as we are," protested Katulus. "Even if they're kids, if he catches them, he will kill them."

He was met by blank faces. Such a protestation did not belong here.

"If they are killed, we're merely in the same place we are now," Mordat reasoned. "If they can make it back to us, we can plan much better."

Katulus knew better than to argue. Instead he brought up his final point of concern.

"Silver Bear has two new squad leaders: Pernita and Ghirtosh. We don't know much, but just so everyone here knows: Pernita is supposed to have escaped from the navy on her way from a Terosian jail by sinking her transport ship. She has a red tattoo on her face, which is the Terosian brand for mass murderer.

"Ghirtosh is just as bad. He –"

"Does this have a point?" Salvara interrupted again.

"You should all know the new players. Marek is not an idiot. He knows we outnumber him and would not move without some confidence. These two could be the reason he was bold enough to kill Uradon."

Lucien leaned forward. "I don't care about two new generals. If they cross me, I'll just kill them but otherwise, we always have Granada. All I want is to face Marek. When they come, your job is to keep enough of them at bay long enough for me to remove his head from his body."

"Of course," Katulus agreed.

Lucian rose. Deliberations were over. "Remind the troops: anyone who doesn't confirm a kill answers to me. Tell the civilians that anybody who aids a fuckin' Silver Bear loses a child and a hand."