The map depicting the surrounding area was roughly drawn, charcoal on the back of tanned animal hide.

“The Gnolls are about a passus in the forest,” Calvisia said, placing her finger within the drawn borders of the forest. She was the outpost leader; a rough looking woman, muscular with dark tanned sin, serious eyes and an inability to smile, Michael had decided. “The scouts counted around a hundred and fifty. We had a few skirmishes with their scouts over the last week. Your timing is good, they look settled in, which means they might start advancing.”

Michael wasn’t familiar with forest combat, his only experience dated back to training exercises. “What’s their camp set up like?”

She unrolled another skin showing another rough map. “They’re set up in a clearing; tents, untended fires, only one or two with roasting animals. Sentries walking the camp’s perimeter.”

“What’s their support personnel like within the camp?”

The outpost leader raised an eyebrow that almost reached her short copper hair. “They’re Gnolls, they aren’t civilized. They hunt their own food, cook it themselves when they bother doing that. If you die in a battle against them, they’ll eat you.” She smiled and it was Michael's turn to raise an eyebrow. “So best not die.”

Michael nodded and focused on the map, closing and opening his hands to keep them from shaking. He had eight Contubernium at his disposal, only four of which had seen serious fighting, his and the three other he’d brought. The outposts were where the recruits went to get experience fighting monsters, and until the Gnolls, what they’d encountered had been nothing more than animals Michael wouldn’t consider threats, if not for the fact they were four or five times the size of a man.

Could he do this on his own? He was stronger than the others, learned faster. Could he take on a hundred and fifty of those creatures by himself, therefore avoid putting any of the men and women under his command in danger?

And if you had your Colt Government, Michael, could you survive putting it in your mouth and pulling the trigger? He wasn’t Superman, he also wasn’t a hero. But more than that, he’d chosen to live when he accepted this second chance. Trying to do this alone was committing suicide.

He let out his breath. “How do Gnolls think?” he asked, which got him another raised eyebrow. “We don’t have them where I’m from.”

“You won’t get them to talk philosophy if that’s what you’re planning,” Calvisia said.

“If we take out their leader, will they run away? Would they follow whoever killed him?” Michael asked.

“They’re loyal,” she said. “But only to their kind. You kill their war leader and they will rip you apart.”

As well as any unit he took with him.

He grabbed hold of the table’s edge. Now was not the time to lose it. “How many archers do we have? If we draw them out of the forest, can they take them down?”

“I have eleven archers,” she answered. “This region isn’t good for training them. I have two scores of arrows, we’d have to draw them out in small groups to have any chance of killing them before they overwhelmed the archers. Only two of them have combat experience.”

Michael nodded and forced a smile. “Now that I’ve demonstrated this isn’t the sort of terrain I’m used to fighting in, what do you recommend?”

“I’d recommend half Contubernium size groups spread around their camp," she replied. "They scout in teams of three to four Gnolls.”

“Could four recruits take on one scout team?”

She shook her head. “Only with the gods guiding their swords.” He should leave them behind, keep them safe, but this was why they were here, wasn’t it? To see combat. “We counted a minimum of four teams roaming the forest at all times, but they often send out more; looking for our scouts.”

At least a dozen of those monsters he didn’t even know the capability of. Michael closed his eyes, did his best to control his breathing. He had no business being here. Let alone being the one in charge.

“Sir?” She asked.

Except Granius had put him in charge; saw something in him. As terrified as he was, Michael didn’t want to let the Praetor down. “Can we force them to scatter into the forest? Hopefully in small groups?” That had been a tactic, back home. Drop bombs on encampments to force the enemy soldiers to run, then take them in smaller groups. “Are there any combat mages here?”

She shook her head. “I have two practicing earth magic, one air, one water, and three fire, but they aren’t advanced enough to have been accepted into any of the academies.”

Michael looked around until he located his friend. “Caius, how’s your fire magic? Can you drop a fireball on the Gnoll camp?”

Caius shook his head. “No.” He looked at the map of the Gnoll camp. “The best I could do is make some of the fires flash if I’m close enough.”

“Can you teach the other fire mages how to do it?” Michael asked.

“If they’re advanced enough,” Caius answered, “but I doubt they’re like you. It would take them weeks of training before they could do it with anything resembling reliability. Michael has a talent with magic he refuses to practice,” the man said to Calvisia. “He managed to create a flame a few minutes after being explained how.”

“It was over an hour,” Michael corrected, "and even after months, I still can't get a fire to light directly." He snapped his fingers, with the flame appearing at his thumb, as a demonstration.

Caius shrugged. “If he’d decided to become a combat mage, I’ve no doubt he could ignite the entire forest by now.”

Michael glared at the man. “There are innocent animals in there. Our only enemies are the gnolls. And I’m a soldier, not a mage.”

“You could be.”

Michael shook his head. “How many fires can you flash at one time?”

“It depends on how close they are. I can hit any fire within a dozen-pace, at around a hundred pace of me.”

“That could serve as a distraction, attack while they’re unbalanced.” He doubted it would last long, but seconds made a difference in war. “What are the oil reserves like?” Michael asked, an idea forming.

“Adequate,” Calvisia replied, watching him.

“How about bottles? Containers that can be sealed?”

“I’d have to check with the cooks.”

“What are you thinking, Michael?” Caius asked.

“We don’t have fire mages where I’m from. But people have come up with equivalent. Fill a bottle with oil, put a piece of cloth in it, seal it, light the cloth, and throw it. When it breaks the oil catches on fire. If you hit one of the Gnoll with it, he’ll be too busy trying not to burn to attack.” Michael paused. “Gnolls can burn, right?”

Caius looked at Michael. “Of course they can burn, it’s not like they are dragons.”

Michael nodded, stopped, and stared at the man. “You guys have dragons?”

“Sir,” the outpost leader said, preventing Caius from replying. “forgive me, but I’m confused. You were angry at the idea you might set fire to the forest, but you want to throw burning oil at the Gnolls.”

Michael considered ignoring the comment to get information on dragons, but this was a combat situation. “As a distraction. To scatter the others.”

“And what happens when a Gnoll on fire runs into the forest?”

“Or if some of the burning oil splashes into the trees?” Caius asked. “I don’t know if four fire mages without academy qualification could contain all the fires that would spread.”

Micheal hung his head. “Right. Trees burn.”

“Where did you use such tactics?” Calvisia asked.

“It was our enemies who use them,” Michael replied. “In cities and the desert.”

“You’re from the desert?” she asked.

“No, I’m from Michigan,” Michael answered. “I just fought in the desert.” Her wide eyes reminded him of Granius’ comment about the desert, and how nothing about it was known. “Not the one here.” He couldn’t recall what direction it was in. “It’s nowhere near here.”

She looked at him, suspicion crossing her face.

“The Praetor has met him,” Joran said, “handled part of his training. He assigned him to lead us.”

She nodded, the comment calming her, but confusing Michael. “What was that about?”

The three of them exchanged a look.

“There are things out there,” Joran said.

“Monsters,” Michael commented, indicating the map.

“Not always. More like things pretending to be people,” Caius said.

“Some just appear, pretend to be lost, then kill and destroy everything, until some hero comes and kills them.”

“Stories are the Praetor fought such a thing years ago,” Joran said. “When the city was still a village.”

“Is that why you wanted me to meet him?” Michael asked. “I did just wander into the village as it was attacked.”

Joran chuckled. “Such a thing would have joined the goblins, not held them off to the point of dying. You’re a hero, Michael, not an Outlander.”

Caius nodded. “The Praetor would have destroyed you if he determined you were such a thing.”

The outpost leader indicated the map. “Maybe we should focus on these monsters if the Praetor has exonerated you.”

Michael nodded, happy to have something else to think about. “Alright, so we need to draw them out, but not burn down the forest.” He looked around. “Any suggestions?”

"Let them do the work for us?" Joran said.

* * * * *

Michael stopped his run, turned, planted his feet, put his shoulder to his shield, and readied himself for the impact. The Gnoll smashed against it and Michael slid back; but the Gnoll staggered, dazed.

The monsters reminded Michael of hyenas standing on their rear legs. They wore clothing of skins and furs. And some were armed with clubs, or stone sword, as was the one before him, shaking its head to clear it. Michael swung his sword at it while three other centurions stepped out from behind trees to take on the other two Gnolls.

Micheal took down the warrior, earning a handful of cuts. The stone sword was sharper than it had any rights to be. His centurion recruits cut down the other two while Michael remained ready to jump in if they looked like they were losing the advantage. They didn’t need him. Their training had been good, even if they lacked field experience.

This was what had been agreed upon, a mix of experienced centurions along with recruits. Since the scout parties were only three to four Gnoll strong, with only the occasional one having a stronger warrior in the lead like this one, the outpost leader had decided it was a perfect way to give the recruits experience.

His three recruits cheered, and Michael smiled. “Pile them up, bandage your wounds, and let’s find another scouting party for me to pull.” He set about bandaging his own cuts, watching his bleeding debuffs disappear each time.

You have gained a level

First Aid

level 4

This was their fourth party of the day and the sun was halfway to the horizon. Michael couldn’t get a clear sense time the way the others did by looking at the shadows, but he figured they had a few hours before it became too dark and the Gnolls gained the advantage since they saw in the dark the way cats did.

Joran's idea had been to simply let the gnolls do their patrols as usual. Since they didn't pay attention to how many of them roamed the forest, the hope was they wouldn't notice when few of them returned.

It took around an hour for one of the recruits with aspirations of becoming a tracker to find another trail. From there, Michael continued alone, being the quietest of them, somehow. Simply by paying attention to where he'd stepped he'd received a notification he’d gained Stealth as a skill. He didn’t like that it was a thief skill, but the category had remained level one even if the skill itself was now thirteen, with that unknown bonus that seemed to affect all his skills.

He couldn’t tell if it was because they were young, and lacked the focus Michael had gained through years of military training, or something else, something that had to do with how he’d come to this world, but he did pick up skills much easier than the others.

He tried to show his recruits how he did it. This had earned him a few points in teaching, but he had difficulty articulating what seemed to be instinctive for him to know, and he’d given up.

He heard the noise of the Gnolls and stopped. Searching for them through the trees.

You have gained a level

Perception

level 5

He spotted the motion, brown against brown, He stepped closer, a group of four, but this one had two of the larger warriors. Could he take them on by himself? The warriors were tough, but he knew he was stronger. It would be interesting to test himself.

But should he? The plan was also to give his recruits experience.

He banged his sword on his shield to alert the Gnolls to his presence, and his recruits that he was about to return with company. Once they saw him, Michael turned and ran noisily until he just past his hiding recruits. He turned and readied himself for the Gnolls, but looked over his shield when the impact didn’t come.

The Gnolls stood twenty feet away, the one in the lead sniffing the air as he kept the rest from passing him. It snarled and growled something, nodding to the trees on their left and right, where his recruits were hiding. It pulled the two swords at its belt.

“Wait until I’ve engaged them,” Michael said, “I’ll try to scatter them and take on the leader. Work together, focus on taking one down and covering each other.” He ran at the Gnolls, blocking the lead one’s double swing and shouldering him away. He slashed at the other warrior and scouts, forcing them away from one another before turning to face the leader.

Michael ran at the Gnoll charging him, taking the two swords on his shield again, but this time the force of the blows sent Michael down to his knees. He threw himself aside to avoid the next swing and rolled to his feet before the Gnoll turned to face him.

Michael parried one sword, twisting his to cut his opponent.

You have learned a Kata

Parry-Slash, One-Handed Sword

level 1

The Gnoll did his own maneuver as Michael deflected the other sword with his shield, sliding it down along it, and hooking it under the shield to cut Michael’s leg. His hit point bar dropped by something like ten percent, more than any one hit had ever done.

With a curse, Michael stepped back. The Gnoll sniffed the blood on his sword and bared his teeth in what Michael thought was a grin. Michael glared back. He wasn’t letting some monster kill him, no matter how strong it might be.

He closed the distance, deflecting one sword with his shield, taking the other through his side, and swung as hard as he could at his enemy, cutting him in half from the shoulder to the opposite hip.

Michael lost his balance and stifled a scream as the sword twisted when he hit the ground. His hit point bar was down to one third and dropped a little more as he pulled the sword out.

A scream drew his attention. One of the recruits was down, alive, but with a bone poking out of his leg. Michael threw the sword at the Gnoll bringing a club down on the recruit. It hit the arm sideways, not doing any visible damage, but throwing the swung off. The recruit planted his sword in the Gnoll’s stomach.

Michael got to his feet to help, but the last two Gnolls fell under his recruits’ attacks before he hobbled to them. This time, the pride in their victory was marred by the amount of damage they’d all taken.

“Bandage up,” Michael wheezed, pulling the chain mail off as carefully as he could. Another bleeding debuff appeared. He ripped his shirt into strips, and one of the recruits helped him bandage himself. Michael sighed in relief when the last of the debuffs vanished.

“Let’s head back to camp. I think we’ve done enough.” He slung his chain mail shirt over his shoulder and grabbed his shield. Once his recruits had made a splint for the injured man, they helped him walk away from the carnage.