Part 9 “Reality”

Dartac gets up and resumes taking his measurements once more.

“I'm afraid that I haven't heard many accounts exaggerated more than that.”

Many have heard of what I did at Stormvault, but that variant was a new one. It turned out well, but by Bahamut's breath it was stupid thing for me to do. I guess I'll fill him in on the truth.

“We were hired to help protect Stormvault from the invading forces of Lord Adrian of Cliffhaven. Stormvault had a large wall around its perimeter, all in all a very good defensive position. But Cliffhaven was known for the size of its army. When they went on the march, the lord of Stormvault hired several mercenary companies to help man the wall. Ours was one of many.”

Back when we were The Swiftblades, we were mainly an infantry unit focusing on siege defense and offense against smaller defensive outposts. Back when 'The Captain' was just my nickname for the kid and not his actual title.

“Our job that time was mainly to keep the walls. Knock down siege ladders, deal with siege towers, deal with anyone who managed to set foot on the wall. I was on the west side, near the gatehouse.

“The commanders of the defense forces were relying too heavily on the walls. They had all of their men on them, I wondered if the commander of the western defenses wasn't in on the plot.

“All of us shooting bows, knocking over siege ladders. The portcullis was well made and constructed of adamant, the greenish ultra-hard metal not even denting from the blows of the massive battering ram of the enemy. I was just tipping over a siege ladder along with some of the men on the wall when the call came.”

“Traitor in the gatehouse!”

“Someone, somehow, had infiltrated the guards in Stormvault, I hadn't heard that it was a shapeshifter before, though it may have been. They managed to raise the adamant portcullis. They also managed to barricade the doors leading in from the wall and roof of the tower. The battering rams were still there underneath a metal roofed testudo. I could already hear them pounding at the wooden doors.”

If they got through those they could take the stairs up into the gatehouse, secure it, keep it open and flood into the city and onto the walls from the inside. I couldn't let that happen, it might not have assured defeat, but many of us would die.

“I could already hear the battering ram slamming against the oaken gates. I looked down the wall, the nearest stairway down was too far to make it in time, and with the raising of the portcullis the enemy troops ceased raising ladders.

The only way down that was fast enough, required me to give in to a stupid idea, quickly formed in my head. “A grapnel from the raising of the most recent ladder was still affixed to the battlement, I was about to throw it down when the call came. Instead, I grabbed on to it and jumped, sliding down the rope with one hand.

“Lucky I didn't break my legs on landing; full suit of plate, one hand on the rope the other holding my sword. I dropped really fast. At least three archers had good enough eyes to see what I was up to, but not enough luck to hit me.

I could hear the cracking of the gates, as I rushed in through the back of the testudo, they were splintered open just as the lightning enchanting my blade began to crackle in anticipation of combat, an enchantment I had enhanced my blade with just a few weeks earlier.

“The battering crew numbered ten men, not dark elven amazons. They had barely enough time to draw their blades before I dropped them.” I remember them twitching as they fell.

“The first squad of enemy infantry approached. They saw me standing there alone and laughed. They must have thought it would be humiliating to send a champion out to face me in single combat.” It was, for them.

“He was a decent warrior, too reckless in the end. Then two charged forward, then three. I was in the narrowest part of the gate house, it restricted their ability to mob me. One after the other, then in twos or threes I killed them, an occasional flash of the lightning with a high pitched buzz and followed by the smell of singed flesh and leather. The morale of the infantry watching broke, they refused to come in after me anymore.

“I'll fill you in on something not everyone that has heard of the battle knows. They called upon the archers. The men on the walls couldn't really see it, and it was over before reinforcements arrived. Other than myself and any of the surviving enemy, only the best bards somehow know.” How do the bards always know?

“The archers began filing into the closed space of the testudo, and opened fire. I didn't suffer a single arrow wound though. No, not one. Somehow, I knew just how to move. Each deadly shaft glancing off of my ever mobile claymore. I don't know how I knew, but those aimed poorly were ignored, glancing off of armor or missing entirely.” How did I manage that, it was a job for a shield wall not a lone swordsman, but, somehow, I made it.

“Eventually the archers, gave up. I heard at least one shout out that this was a waste of arrows. Men from the walls arrived forming a shield wall in the gatehouse.

“I had to move the corpses after that. Bodies in the way, couldn't let that prevent the gate from falling all the way, and the shieldmen didn't want to break their line. It has to drop completely and lock, otherwise enough men might be able to simply lift it back up. I went back to the wall, we held that city.”

Somehow enough people saw it, and then word spread. The lord of the city, titled me Stormguard. I never had a surname, it stuck. I became famous, and the company with me. Only 'The Captain' called me out on it. I knew... I could have been shot leaving the safety of the battlements, could have broken my legs, could have injured my arm dropping, shot by archers in the gateway, killed by the flood of enemies, overwhelming odds against me. What saved me in the end, luck or skill, it didn't matter. It was a stupid move, even though it turned out alright in the end, and being reminded of it all the time isn't something I enjoy. The Captain calls me Leo, he only calls me Stormguard when I do something really outrageous, sometimes he even calls out the other men for trying to 'Pull a Stormguard'. I haven't done something like that in years, even during my blackouts.

“I wonder myself sometimes, if I was lucky, skilled, or had fate guiding me, it doesn't matter in the end.”

“Nope, you accomplished something incredible, saved the whole city. I bet everyone in The Emerald Dragons wants to learn from you.”

I've given up on letting people know how I feel about the story. No one seems to understand, other than The Captain. They all say I should be proud, live the high life off of my fame.

“Yeah, I don't have the knack for teaching though, unfortunately...”

Dartac finishes taking his measurements. I let him know that while I plan on continuing to use my claymore, I also will be taking up a shield and mace, to hone another style.

“Shields don't need much fitting, but I'll take that into consideration for the design of your suit. I have plenty, pick one out after you've tried on the armor, see what balances best with you.”

I leave half of the payment for the armor and head out to find one of the weapon smiths. I think I will leave my name out of the conversation, if possible, with this next one.