NOVEL NEXT Chapter 111: Encampment
The third morning arrived without fanfare.
They were already behind schedule, but that meant nothing. The march must go on.
By noon, the encampment finally came into view.
Rows upon rows of banners flapped in the wind, marking each division's section of the sprawling camp.
From a distance, the place looked like a field of color, with red, blue, and white banners rippling above countless tents and wagons.
Smoke rose from cookfires, and the air was thick with the sound of hammers, shouting, and the rhythmic tramp of boots.
The army of Vasaria had gathered. Or at least, the portion that had been sent to help.
As the column of adventurers approached, the flow of people grew denser. Soldiers and adventurers moved in all directions, some hauling crates, others sharpening weapons or checking their equipment.
The noise was overwhelming. There was the crack of whips as carts rolled by, the clank of armor, and even the constant bark of orders shouted over the din.
"Looks like we made it," Rowan muttered, tugging at his collar as they entered the camp.
"Barely," Wade replied. "Feels like half the kingdom's here."
They followed the signs nailed to poles, each one painted with division numbers, until they reached a massive field lined with wooden stakes and rope partitions.
At the far end, a handful of officers stood on crates, shouting names and division numbers.
"Division Seven, report to the left side!" one of them yelled. "Captain Wells is taking roll call!"
That was their cue. Wade, Rowan, and the rest of their division, wove through the crowd of newly arrived adventurers and soldiers until they found the section labeled DIVISION VII – ADVENTURER REGIMENT.
A stocky man with a neatly trimmed beard and a voice that could have cracked stone was standing behind a wooden table stacked with documents.
His armor was well-polished but worn. The kind of armor that had seen more campaigns than ceremonies.
"Name?" he barked as they approached.
"Wade Barrett," Wade answered.
"Rowan Dyer," Rowan followed.
The man's eyes flicked between them briefly before nodding. "Captain Wells," he introduced himself curtly. "You two are assigned to Squad Twelve."
He rummaged through a small box beside him, producing two brass tokens stamped with the sigil of Division Seven and the number twelve etched beneath it.
"Identification tokens," Wells said, tossing them into their waiting hands. "Keep them on you at all times. Lose one, and you'll spend the next week cleaning latrines."
He paused. "By hand."
"Understood, sir," Wade said, tucking the token into his inventory.
Wells pointed towards a cluster of tents farther down the field, past the rows of campfires and weapon racks.
"Your squad's stationed there. Report to Sergeant Helgar if you have any complaints. Not that I care to hear 'em."
Rowan grinned. "Sounds warm and welcoming already."
"Get moving," Wells snapped before turning his attention to the next group of recruits.
They followed the indicated path, their boots crunching over packed dirt.
The deeper they moved into Division Seven's section, the more structured the camp became.
Rows of tents formed narrow corridors, each marked with rough-painted numbers on wooden plaques.
When they reached the one labeled Squad 12, Wade paused outside for a moment. The tent was large enough to house eight or nine people comfortably, its canvas sides reinforced with wooden poles and sturdy ropes.
From inside came the sound of voices and the faint clatter of unpacked gear.
Rowan grinned, brushing some dust from his sleeve. "Home sweet home."
Wade pulled aside the flap and ducked inside.
The interior was lit by a single lantern hanging from the central pole. Bedrolls were already laid out across the floor in rough order, with equipment stacked along the walls.
Six other adventurers were present, three men and three women, each halfway through unpacking their belongings.
One of the warriors, a broad-shouldered man, looked up first. "New arrivals?"
"Yeah," Wade said. "Division Seven, Squad Twelve."
"Right," the man said with a nod. "Name's Brody. That's Mercy, healer." He gestured towards a woman with cropped hair and a calm expression, who gave a polite nod in greeting.
"The others are Dax, Len, and those two are the archers. Twin sisters. Don't mix up which one's which. They'll stab you for it."
One of the twins, or maybe both, snickered.
"Got it," Rowan said, smirking.
Introductions were brief but polite. There was no need for anything else. After all, who knew if they might all be dead by the time the next week rolls around.
Wade picked an empty corner near the rear of the tent, spreading his blanket on a mat already laid out. He stowed his pack neatly beneath it, then sat down with a low sigh.
"Not bad," Rowan said, dropping his bag near the tent entrance. "I call dibs on this spot."
Wade raised an eyebrow. "You sure? You'll be the first to die when a monster sneaks in."
Rowan grinned. "Nah. I'll be the first to see trouble and run."
Laughter rippled through the tent, breaking some of the tension. Even Brody cracked a smile.
As the afternoon wore on, activities continued around the camp.
Smoke drifted from the cooking pits outside, and the clang of blacksmiths repairing gear echoed faintly through the air.
Just as Wade began to relax, a horn blared across the camp.
"All squads, assemble for briefing!" someone shouted outside.
The tent erupted in motion. Adventurers scrambled to their feet. Wade slung Toothpick across his back, following Rowan out into the open air.
Rows upon rows of squads were already forming up around a wide clearing in the camp's center. The murmur of voices grew until another horn silenced them.
A raised wooden platform stood at the far end of the clearing. On it were several officers, commanders in their ceremonial armor, their crests glinting under torchlight.
Wade found himself standing shoulder to shoulder with Rowan, Mercy, and Brody as the lead commander stepped forward.
"Adventurers of Hiving!" the man bellowed, his voice amplified by a skill. "You stand here as the first and strongest defense against the horde!"
A wave of noise swept through the crowd. Cheers, mostly, though some sounded forced.
The commander continued, gesturing towards a map unfurled beside him, hanging for all to see.
"We have received our orders."