Chapter 8

The Baron was in a pretty good state, all things considered. His hair was messy, blood caked in his hair creating clumps of gray hair all over his head. His small ponytail was gone, his hair flowing wildly where it wasn’t stuck together. His face was much the same. It was covered in wounds ranging from cuts to splinters to bruises on both eyes. His clothing was torn to ribbons, but his armor was completely fine.

Considering how many Orcs had come to assault his castle, he was looking pretty good. The state of his men was much the same: disgusting, haggard, completely beaten down, but alive.

The Orc general who came to relieve them looked at the Baron, admiration written clearly across his face. He was in much better shape than the Baron, though he was still covered in blood. Unlike most of his Orc commander types, he wore a tabard over his plate; an incredibly complicated coat of arms composed of a shield flanked on either side by two Orcs surrounded by barbed rose stems was embossed in the middle.

'You lot got in a real scrap! Not sure my Boyz woulda 'eld 'em off. I'm Jeremy, by de way. Jeremy Elbertson."

The Baron smiled at him weakly.

"Well, Herr Elbertson, I appreciate you coming when you did. As you so intelligently surmised, we had quite a fight on our hands. We could have lasted maybe another three hours. So, do you have a message from Jack for me?"

Jeremy smiled and handed the Baron a scroll.

"Roight! Yes 'e did! 'E said to go roight back to Londonsburg. ‘E said ‘e ‘ad somefin to discuss. Wif you, o' course!”

“Yes, of course. I love discussions. We will be heading back after we’ve counted the dead. Are any of you planning on garrisoning this castle while we are gone? The original garrison is mostly wiped out by now.”

“Kinda. Wez gonna be ‘ere til wez ordered to move out into Yorksburg lands. We let ‘em break deir backs against our walls, now wez gonna go break ours ‘gainst deirs.”

“Exciting. Well, I really must get to work then. Don’t want to keep Jack waiting. May London watch over you.”

“An’ I ‘ope whateva da Empire ‘as for gods watches ova youz! Fuck it! I 'ope London watches over youz!”

After doing a headcount in the courtyard, they finally knew what their losses were. Jean spoke to the Baron as he wrote in his notebook.

“So, we lost 24 pikemen, 40 swordsmen, 39 gunners, and just nine skirmishers.”

The Baron scratched the back of his head. He had washed off all the blood, but it still felt gross.

“Why so few pikemen? I had them at the front. Maybe the bombs helped more than I thought they would!”

Jean responded without looking up from his notebook.

“Very possible. I like to believe that my explosive bolts and ballistae made a difference in the battle. They could only come through a small area in just a handful of towers, and only few at a time, perfect for pikemen.”

“Would you say that I made a difference?”

Jean looked at the Baron like he was stupid, a fairly common occurrence for him.

“You blew up two towers single ‘andedly. And you ordered the creation of the ballistae. Of course you made a difference.”

The Baron smiled and threw an arm around Jean.

“I knew that! I just wanted to hear it out loud!”

“You are a child.”

“That’s what my son says as well!”

Jean extracted himself the Baron’s giant arms.

“Yes, well, ‘es right. Anyways, when we get back to Londonsburg we should ‘ave another recruitment drive. It may have been less than we expected, but we did take around 14% casualties, not including anyone unable to fight after that.”

The Baron’s face fell a bit before nodding solemnly.

“Right, yes, we will do just that. We did lose many of our swordsmen. As much as I hate to say it, it is easier losing men that I haven’t grown attached to, and I would rather not throw my veterans into the meat grinder if I can avoid it. Let us gather together some Orcs who do not mind charging into danger.”

Jean went back to writing in his notebook, not looking at the Baron.

“Oui, good idea. They seem to be fearless and fanatic, maybe talk more about London during your prebattle speeches?”

“Meh. I do not enjoy invoking other gods. But...I will think about it.”

Jean looked up from his notebook.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t really know. Forget it. Let's get our work done and head to Londonsburg.”

The Baron addressed the Orc guards.

“Hello! It is I! The-”

“Yeah, we know. Jack said to tell youz to ‘ead roight to ‘is study.”

The Baron was slightly annoyed, but mostly sad that they cut him off. I had something good planned as well. Oh well.

“Thank you, I’ll head right in.”

The Baron passed the guards and began walking down the lengthy hallway. The hallway looked a lot like the aristocrat mansions that the Baron got a tour of in his past life, tidy red carpet, giant windows placed equidistant from each other, occasional stand with a flower vase or some other decoration, overall, it was quite nice. The Baron found Jack’s study and walked right in after knocking.

“Jack, it’s me, Baron.”

Jack was sitting at his desk, writing something. He put down his feather quill and waved the Baron over.

“Roight, come an’ sit. Wez got business to discuss.”

The Baron did as he was told and gratefully accepted the glass Jack offered him.

“So, Baron, I want ya to level wif me. Why is you really ‘ere?”

“What exactly do you mean? Are you saying I have an ulterior motive?”

Jack took a swig out of his bottle of whiskey.

“Yeah, basically.”

The Baron chuckled a bit and took a sip of his own whiskey.

“Well, I appreciate the honesty. Before I answer your question, would you mind answering a question of my own?”

Jack kicked his feet up on his desk. He was trying to look nonchalant, but any veteran fighter would realize he was still on guard.

“Sure, why not.”

“Excellent. Tell me, what is your unfiltered opinion of the Empire?”

Jack thought for a moment, scratching the top of his bald head.

“Well, I fink it’s garbage, mostly. Would be best for da world if it fell apart, no offense. Youz down dere don’t take kindly to folks like me, or de elves an’ ofer non ’umans. ‘Cept for de bray’erds, don’t quite get dat.”

“Neither do I. And I work with one. Something about them just, makes you feel neutral at worst. Not sure what causes that, but that feeling is there.”

“Roight. Well, one non ‘uman race ain’t make it ok for youz to ‘ate us. An’, speakin’ o’ non ‘uman ‘ate, I see youz don’t feel da same as your Imperial Ilk. Youz got a Elf! An’ a bray’erd, an’ youz been ‘irin’ my boyz. So, either youz is special, or I ‘ate the Empire for no reason. An’ I’m pretty sure I know which one it is.”

“Hm, an astute assessment. The only reason I can get away with having Jean and Gaius working with me is twofold: I run a private company, and I am the Baron. The laws regarding who you can and cannot hire for private companies are rather vague, well, functionally nonexistent. And, I am extremely popular in the Empire. If the Empress were to arrest me for anything it would reflect poorly on her in the eyes of the people. There are perks to being a notorious philanthropist, and treating everyone well no matter the rank.”

“Roight. Come on, what’re youz doin’ ‘ere? I answered your question.”

“Of course, and after hearing your answer, I will be forthright with my intentions. I plan to rebel against the Empire, tearing it down and replacing it with a democracy.”

Jack immediately relaxed, still guarded, but much less than before.

“Roight, fank London. I was ‘fraid youz was gonna be ‘ere to feel us out for an Imperial invasion.”

“Oh, no. I hate to tell you this, but the Empire would not need to do much scouting to prepare for an invasion. Your Orcs are quite skilled, disciplined, and incredibly fervent in their beliefs. However, religious fervor can only do so much when a musket ball punches through your heart. I hope that your army is more modernized than Yorksburg’s, because if not they could rip through your men without even trying, no offense.”

Jack held up in a hand in a placating gesture.

“None taken.”

“Right, well, onto my intentions for Orcland. What I wish is to create an alliance between us. When I begin my revolt I wish for you to harass Grossenstadt and Jagstadt, diverting resources from the Bickenstadt-Grossenstadt frontline. Though, even if I don’t get an alliance, just the threat of such a thing would divert resources, Grossenburg is just a boat ride away from Orcland.”

“Roight, I get what youz is sayin’. Hmmm, well, I ‘ave an idea for ‘ow I’ll decide. Wez is gonna start our offensive, yeah? Your gitz do well, ‘elp us take Yorksburg an’ anyfin’ tween dat an’ us, an’ I create an alliance with youz. Do poorly, an’ no alliance. Sound good?”

“Oh yes, that sounds excellent. I can’t wait to lead you to victory!”

They both shared a laugh before Jack got an idea.

“Oh, roight, an’ do you fink youz can ‘elp me modernize my army? Just teach me ‘n da boyz ‘ow you gitz work down dere.”

The Baron scruffed his chin in thought.

“I’ll have to consider that one. I really don’t have much personnel to work with. How about you, say, observe my men during battle, and then come to me with any questions you have afterwards? And, I don’t know, maybe I can spare Udo for a couple of months after this. Would you be willing to pay?”

“Only too willing, yeah! Dere’s dis git dat came from Yorksburg, yeah? ‘Es real mad at Yorksburg, dey apparently refuse to modernize at all! Dat’s borderline ‘eritical at dis point! London said wez gotta keep up wif da ofers so wez don’t get all killed! Anyway, ‘e said ‘es gonna work for us now, tell us ‘bout all da shit Yorksburg don’t want us to know, an’ all ‘e asks is dat I modernize my army, a fing I were already finkin’ ‘bout! What a steal!”

“So true! Information wins wars, afterall!”

“Ain’t dat da truef! Well, I sayz you oughta get goin’! Youz gotta ‘ire more Orcs, wez attacking Yorksburg in a week, or ‘owever long it takes to get everyone in position. When you’re ready, youz is gonna be workin’ wif General Jeremy down at Cornwall.”

“Oh, you mean the Orc who came to relieve me?”

“Yeah! Youz already like ‘im, roight? ‘E saved your life! Well, youz is gonna be working wif ‘im, well, more workin’ for, ‘e is a general. ‘E’s gonna be leadin’ 6,000 gitz roight to Yorksburg! Take everyfin’ long da way, den wait for us an’ siege Yorksburg! Right simple, yeah?”

“Quite.”

“Exactly! Now, get movin’! Da boyz is already livid I makin’ ‘em wait til everyone’s in position!”

The Baron finished his whiskey and stood up.

“I’ll get going then. Good luck, Jack.”

“Tanks!”

Two days later, the Baron had hired an extra 200 Orcs, bringing his numbers up to 844 in total. 351 Pikemen, made up of mixed human and Orc soldiers, 187 swordsmen, made up of mostly Orcs alongside gifted ones with Udo and Fergus, 231 gunners, all human, and 75 skirmishers, mostly Gobs. They were drilling the new recruits until it was time to leave.

“Thrust as one! Your goal is to push them back! The kills go to the swordsmen and gunners!”

Ludwin was drilling the pikemen. They were using the training method they used the first time, as it seemed to be somewhat effective. The new Orc pikemen were placed in the back behind the humans, their job was to thrust above the human pikemen, creating an even denser wall of spearheads than before. Even though they were not as coordinated as the humans, the Orcs were already showing some promise, pushing back the ‘horses’ with the human soldiers easily. It seemed with the new addition of Orc pikemen, their already deadly formation would become even deadlier.

“Cover your comrades back! If the man in front of you is open you step forward and protect his back! That’s it! Keep it up!”

Sword Fighting seemingly came naturally to the Orcs. Now that they were mostly surrounded by other Orcs, they were coordinating well. Udo wondered if it was something that Orcs naturally did, it would explain why those Orcs effortlessly helped him when they believed he was a friendly Orc. Of course, their teamwork was not perfect, but it was far better than a bunch of random humans would have after just a day's training. The shorter arming swords and heater shields the Orcs used seemed to be much more efficient in close quarters fighting than Udo’s longsword, but he was so used to it that switching over would probably do more harm than good. As the Orcs made it through the field of ‘soldiers’, Udo decided he would tell the Baron they are basically combat ready, their teamwork and ability to fight close quarters was already quite good, all they needed now was experience.

“Keep both eyes open! You won’t be shooting at static targets, they will be moving!”

The Gobs seemed eager to learn, but were also kind of sarcastic about the whole thing, which annoyed Helmut to no end. After his display the first of training he figured they would quietly listen to him like the other ones did. But, this new batch of Gobs had yet to be properly cowed. Helmut sighed openly. This was not working. At this rate, they would not be ready for the upcoming warfare. He thought that, since all of these Gobs had some level of combat experience, that training them would be easy, but they just seemed uncoordinated, lazy, and generally kind of dim. But, the Baron believes in Helmut, and he did give him the order to whip them into shape, so he would do as much as he could.

“Here, let me show you something. You! Put on this helmet. It’s enchanted.”

The Gob happily put on the helmet and looked at Helmut expectantly.

“Now, begin running around.”

The Gob looked confused, but after Helmut stared at him blankly for around 30 seconds, he did as he was told. Helmut dashed into the woods in front of them. After about a minute of the Gob running around in circles, a shot rang out from behind everyone, nowhere near the woods. The shot pinged off the Gob’s helmet, knocking him over.

“That is what I am trying to teach you. Stealth and precision.”

The Gobs look at Helmut in unabashed awe. The Gobs he had already trained from their first recruit drive looked at the new ones like they were children gawking at a cool looking soldier.

Three days after that display, the skirmishers were getting much better, though just like with the first battle, they would only be barely adequate by the time they moved out, though unlike the others, skirmishers could continue their training while marching with an army. The pikemen and swordsmen, however, were deemed battle ready by Ludwin and Udo respectively. The Baron was pleased at this, because he wanted to head out immediately. The attack on Yorksburg would begin in two days.

“Ludwin, Udo, Helmut. Get everyone ready to march, I want to move out today.”

They all gave their acknowledgements and ran off to do as the Baron asked. The Baron had something he wanted to prepare, and he knew just who to ask. He found Jean walking around the inn, taking notes on the architecture.

“Jean! Do you think you can outfit a cart with enough explosives to blow a castle door off its hinges?”

Jean fully closed his notebook, placing it in his inner breast pocket.

“I mean, probably. If we ‘ave enough powder.”

“I can get you a couple of kegs filled with powder.”

“Is this really the sort of thing I should be doing? This idea seems fairly simple.”

“Well, here’s where you come in: I want it to explode on impact with the door. I want my men to roll the cart into the door and have it explode. Can you do that for me?”

Jean smiled and pulled out a different notebook from his opposite side inner breast pocket.

“Of course! I would be delighted to! But, what ‘appens if the castle is on an ‘ill?”

“I don’t know, put a very long fuse in it or something. Can’t be too hard.”

“Fair enough. Alright, I’ll get on making that. Oh, when are we ‘eading out?”

“Today!”