The Swords of August

"I hate this shit." I said, as we made our way to a local mercenary hangout. It was a well-known tavern by the name of The General's Lair, hosting over a dozen mercs each night. With a little luck, we'd hire a competent group and be on our way quickly.

"What shit? You mean walking around at night in a foreign city?" Chen asked as we trailed our footprints down a well-lit sandstone street.

"Foreign, right." I snorted. "No, I mean this fumbling blind. We have no specifics, everything's down to hearsay and secondhand guesswork. No actual hard, verifiable data of our own, you know?"

"I know what you mean. I'd kill for a decent orbital network, or even just a high-altitude platform with decent optics." He shrugged. "We'll figure something out."

"God, I hope so. I'm not stumbling blind from one crisis to the next without a proper plan and an intel database to pull from, not forever. Fighting I can take, but this hunting for intel shit wasn't in my job description."

"Neither was falling from orbit in an escape pod, or fighting a wizard." Chen remarked with a grin.

"True." I conceded, picking up my pace a little.

The sand shifted a little underneath our feet as we walked, the night's breeze disturbing it. A squat, rustic building I spied a sign by brightly-lit windows, an ornate copper door with a sword and fireball on it.

"This definitely looks like the place." Chen nodded to the sign above the door. It was similarly rustic, made entirely of copper inlaid on wood that looked as old as I was.

I toggled my radio on, patching into the mages back at the inn with our gear and a radio. "Be advised, we're going to pick up some mercenaries and bring them back for payment. You should hear from us in person in half an hour."

"Got it. We'll be waiting. Just make sure you don't grab a couple of amateurs, okay?"

"Yeah, got it. Riley out." I disconnected and nodded to Chen as he glanced at me for permission.

Chen pushed the door open for us, walking in like he owned the place.

We took a seat and ordered something to keep up appearances, but I barely paid any attention to the drink in front of me. There were as many eyes on us as we saw people. Our armour was quite distinctive, so I'd not expected total anonymity or to blend in all that well, but I'd counted on at least a modicum of disinterest. After a while, it seemed our novelty wore off and those paying attention to us grew bored.

That didn't stop a group of armed strangers walking over to us though. The four men and two women walked with a casual ease, but very little arrogance, if I was reading them right. That spoke to either false confidence, or a dangerous competence. Each of them seemed to be same ethnicity, the same look, too. Rough and well-worn, fair skin and dark hair.

"Can I help you?" My helmet was off and I met the eyes of each of them for a brief moment.

"Couldn't help but notice you're new around these parts." One of the men spoke to us. His graying hair and a long scar down his jaw were the most prominent features. He had the look of a soldier, but the bearing of an outlaw. It was an interesting mix.

Speaking of an interesting mix, the others behind him were no less storied. One had lost an eye and carried herself with a kind of standoffish presence that stood out like she was on fire. The other two were identical twins with the kind of good looks that made them seem more like models than mercenaries. They even dressed the same, wearing some kind of loose, white flowing coat and dark underclothes. The last two looked average, with simple clothes, forgettable faces and disinterested expressions. They had brown hair, were of average height and build and each carried a sword and dagger. From what I could see they were an interesting bunch, and if they weren't at least qualified then they were certainly well-equipped.

I nodded. "That's right, putting together an expedition, you might say."

"An expedition?" He and his people chuckled.

"Something like that." I smiled. "More of an… extermination, with a little travelling, a little breaking in where we're not supposed to, all on short notice I'm afraid."

"Is it urgent? You hiring?"

"That depends. Are you novices, or professionals?" I asked.

Their spokesperson grinned at me. "I'm Haedrian, the leader of the Nighthearts, since no one else wanted the job. We charge a fair price and we're professionals, but we're not cheap."

"Then you might be what we're looking for. Interested in a job? It's dangerous."

"Most jobs are. Listen, I've got a thirsty crew with expensive tastes. None of us mind danger if the pay is good."

"I'm sure it is. It's not every day we go off to find legends and kill them." I held his gaze for a prolonged moment.

"Yeah? What legends are you two thinking of killing?"

"You ever hear of the Vitaru?"

He snorted. "Let me guess, they're back and you're stupid enough to go after them?"

"Well, the way I see it, if I don't cut the head off the snake, then they wipe us out. On the other hand, we'd have one hell of a rep to be the ones that ended a war before it began, slaying a legend and putting a myth to bed."

They were all silent for a moment, and I could tell my words had affected them.

"What's your standard rate?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"Eighty crowns a week."

"For the lot of you, right?"

"Of course." He gave me an affronted look.

"Sounds a bit steep." Chen remarked.

I didn't doubt that Chen knew as little about the going rate for mercenaries as I did. Eighty could be a steal, or a total rip-off. I did think it was probably a bit high though, and we were expected to haggle down to a lower number.

"Seventy, take it or leave it." Haedrian said dismissively.

"Sixty." I countered.

"Sixty-five." He replied smoothly.

"Deal, but only if you promise to spar with me. I need the practice and I have to find a sword that fits me." I smiled, gesturing to his sheathed blade.

It wasn't just for ego, I really did need to learn to fight with a sword, or some other ubiquitous weapon. Swords were easy to carry and seemed to be plentiful here no matter where I went.

I couldn't say I would never be forced to rely on them to save my life. Hell, the artifact we were being sent to find was a sword. I gave it a fifty-fifty chance one of us would have to use it before we got back to base.

There was a very real chance our more familiar weapons would be unavailable. The tournament was a good example of that. We couldn't rely on having access to our gear forever. Without the crutch that was my enhancing armour I'd probably have died several times over by now.

I definitely needed sword training, and what better way to learn than to spar with successful mercs whose skills depended on that very training?

"It ain't the sword, it's the wielder." One of them said. "Only a stupid warrior blames his weapon."

I chuckled. "You're right about that. Do we have a deal?"

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"We do, but we'd like to have half of today's pay up-front if we agree to take the job."

"Half? You haven't even heard what the job is."

"Those are the terms." He shrugged.

I wasn't too surprised. His caution was just simple prudence, tempered by a life spent fighting for coin. You couldn't spend anything if you were dead, after all. "Alright. Follow me then. I don't keep it on me. I'm just the recruiter in this instance, not the client. They've got the final word."

"Sounds good to me, I didn't peg you as a walking treasury anyway." Haedrian chuckled as he gestured us to the door. I waved Chen over with two finger and shouldered it open. I stepped into the frigid night air lamenting the fact my helmet had to go back on. As soon as it sealed to my suit I felt a comforting sense of security return. No amount of refreshingly brisk air was worth leaving my head exposed.

I turned to see the six mercenaries filing out into the street and took a quick look at the locator beacon for the radio I'd left with Leyndal and the others.

"Proc, threat scan."

"No threats detected." The monotone voice gave me the words I wanted to hear.

"Come on." I waved them all forward and with the mental and literal coordinates locked in my head, I started walking with Chen stepping into place beside me. The streets were quiet, deserted even, and I took a few moments to appreciate the stars before putting my head back on a swivel.

The inn we'd originally arrived in was just down the street so in no time at all, I pushed open the door to find a few familiar faces greeting me. Leyndal, Rovald, Jordan, but no Larsen yet. They all stood by the entrance to the building, clearly expecting us.

After explaining the situation to our magical allies Chen and I got down to business and started a briefing up in our room. We had to get everyone on the same page and nail down the area of operation we were going to hit first. Larsen was arriving within the day apparently, but the mages already here were all onboard, almost fervently so. The mercs however, were the exception. They'd agreed to listen to what the job entailed and if it was to their liking, they'd be paid appropriately and join us.

I laid out a map of the first temple's purported location on a monolithic stone table in our rented room. The map covered a swathe of the southern border of Graywatch.

Then Leyndal began to speak. I was usually the one giving the briefings but I didn't know the first thing about this place, except what I'd picked up here and there which was admittedly very little.

"The closest temple is a repurposed silver mine deep inside Graywatch's borders. We know its occupied by less reputable types—"

"Criminals." Chen supplied.

"—right, and that they're armoured, though not to the degree of most of us here. We also know there are at least two mages on-site and potentially more in the lower levels. We don't know what they do with the place, and I don't really care. They're not our objective. Our objective is to get to the second to last level of the mine and sweep it for this temple's entrance. I don't know if there's a hidden door, maybe some kind of magekey, but this is the place."

"Second to last level?" I asked.

"There haven't been any more expansions to the mine since then, and the lowest level is a mess of cave-ins and unstable tunnels."

"Sounds like a great place to hide something."

He nodded. "Then we'll sweep the lowest level if we find nothing on the level above."

"How far away is it?"

"If we pay guild rates, we can get there inside three hours. If we don't, six days."

"Six days? We're not waiting that long. Time is of the essence according to everything anyone will tell me about these things."

I made a note with my processor to see if we could get some intel directly on how fast these things multiplied. It was fast, apparently, but hard data would let us know just how severe the threat was and give us vital data on the enemy's capability to replenish and grow their numbers.

Leyndal shrugged at my comment. "Time is of the essence, yes, but the price for the guild-run gates here are steep. They're usually reserved for wealthy merchants and nobles, but anything's available for the right price."

"I thought the Empire had a strict isolationist policy?"

"They do." Leyndal confirmed. "They just also like money and luxury goods. It's useful to maintain a few exclusive gateways even if the common man isn't generally allowed to use them."

"Discouraged." Chen bristled.

"Yeah." Leyndal smiled wryly, but left it at that. "Are you all ready to embark on this quest?"

"Not just yet." I told him. "Larsen still needs to show up and the Nighthearts need payment and terms before they do more than talk to us."

"We can't wait too long." Leyndal warned.

Chen nodded. "That's okay. What kind of experience do you all have?" My fellow Marine directed this question to the mercenaries.

The spokesman for the group cleared his throat. I figured our cover as mercenaries wasn't terribly believable anymore, but I saw no reason to tell the actual truth. A hollow deception was still a shield from prying eyes, even if it would attract attention. I resolved to pay attention and pick up some details from their explanation to give our own cover some much needed authenticity.

"To give you all an idea of who you're dealing with, I'm Haedrian, that's Lya, we're registered out of Graywatch as the Nighthearts, obviously." Then Haedrian continued on. "We specialise in dirty tricks, assassinations—"

"You're thieves, assassins and cutthroat privateers who sneer at soldiers like us?" I joked.

The spokesman's speech ground to a halt. He looked over at me, and stared coldly at me. "You've got us pegged, don't you?" He didn't look impressed. "We've got morals, don't go judging us too harshly, but we're not soldiers. We work best with small groups as a hidden blade or a group of eyes in the right place. We turn the tide of battles, steal things that don't belong to us and take out targets with a high price tag. We don't fight wars, I want to make that very clear. Leave that soldiering stuff to the dumb bricks and meat-shields."

I bit my lip. Even considering that I was more than a 'dumb meat-shield', I didn't appreciate the insults directed towards Chen. I let it slide, however. I had more important worries.

This was a war, but it wasn't as though it was one that was being fought with armies of hundreds or even thousands. If it had been, then we'd have already been late to the party, losing it before it began. It hadn't yet blown up into a full-scale conflict.

"You're what we need, I think, and for the record," I paused, trying to project a genuineness I didn't entirely feel. "I have nothing against you for being light on your feet or good at sneaking around. Slitting throats and killing from concealment is not dishonourable, it's just war by other means."

I looked over at Chen, Leyndal and Jordan. They seemed to agree with my words, or at least they weren't openly alarmed by them. Looking back to the Nighthearts, they seemed somewhat placated by my words.

I continued. "We're not so much fighting a war as preventing one. I'll fill you in on specifics if you decide to take the job, but you're not going to be marching in formation or fighting in large groups, but it will be dangerous. We'll have need of your 'dirty tricks', as you call them."

"What kind of pay can we expect?"

"Ample. Sixty-five is your standard rate, right?" I looked over at Leyndal, and he nodded.

Haedrian nodded. "That's what we agreed on, yes."

"Consider it doubled for an indefinite period." I used my suit's omni-directional vision to make out Leyndal's split-second look of surprise without turning my head.

I could practically see the avarice shining in the Nighthearts' gleaming eyes. Even the more stoic of the group were tempted by that.

With their silence, I asked my next question. "What can you tell me about the jobs you've been on, and your history as a unit in a more general way?"

"Our jobs?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow. "We don't discuss those with anyone but the specific client or each other, and you're neither."

"Discretion, check." I smirked. "Then what about your history? How do you all know each other?"

"Ah, well, that I can tell you about. We used to be a 'special' force together in the Dragonclaw Legion some six or seven years back. After some nasty business with a priest and a monastery, we decided it was best to take our skills where they wouldn't be used to do more harm than good, and where they'd be more appreciated—you know, monetarily."

Chen cleared his throat. "The Dragonclaw Legion are who again? That name sounds familiar."

I hadn't forgotten that Davian had hitched a ride with them, but I didn't actually know anything about them. In fact, I'd just been about to ask the same question.

"They're a notorious group, one of the larger mercenary groups that have multiple branches. They're…" Haedrian trailed off.

"They're what?" Leyndal pressed. I'd noticed he and the other mages with us had been more than a bit concerned with their missing man. I could certainly empathise.

"They're less like a group of swords for hire, bodyguards or your run-of-the-mill caravan escorts, and more like a private army. A well-equipped private army, just not one of the nice ones."

"PMC's." I frowned. "I haven't met many that weren't assholes so I'm not sure if nice ones even exist. Shit."

"They've been spotted by the 'Marches recently, so we won't have to worry about them, if that's what you're thinking. What's a PMC?"

"Private military contractor. A soldier for hire, usually one who's trained specifically to wage war, not just fight or look tough. The good ones are veterans of legitimate military conflicts and have experience and training to back them up."

"Then shouldn't we also be considered PMC's?" Haedrian asked.

"You fought in a war?"

"When the Mistlords decided to stage an attack on our port city up north we became privateers, yeah. Then hit back at them on land. It was an ugly few years, but let's just say all of us have seen our fair share of death, and dealt it, and leave it at that."

That was good enough for me right now. I wasn't hiring them for their ethics, after all, but their ability to make things dead and back us up in a fight. If they could do that, I didn't mind what they'd done in some war I'd never heard of.

I nodded. "Fair enough." I turned to Leyndal. "What do we think?"

"We can afford to pay them for a month, but that's it. Any longer and we'll exhaust our funds. I'd take them. I happen to know they're telling the truth, at least about being part of a special force with the Legion."

"How's that?" I asked.

"I've received reports." Leyndal said evasively.

Shrugging at his evasiveness, I decided not to pry further for the moment.

Chen leaned over and joined our little private conversation. "I don't know about you, but I'm hoping this gets wrapped up before the end of the week. A month is a long-ass time to be fighting alien insects."

I laughed. "Fat chance. This'll take at least three, I bet." I turned back to the expectant mercenaries. "I guess we've got some travelling companions. You're hired."

There was no cheering or silly exaggerated fanfare, but they did look pleased. I could relate; being on the job was a comfortable, familiar feeling.

It was about ten minutes after that when Larsen walked through the door with another mage that all hell broke loose. My first clue was the door melting away like it wasn't even there. My second clue came when a very familiar, almost canine-like form bounded through the opening in the metal door towards us. I didn't need a third hint.