《The Elven Foreign Legion》Chapter 1 The Old Hermit

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Sixteenth day Tenth Month Four Thousand and Six Hundred and forty-four rings of the Great White Tree

Old Hermit from the deep forest

As the hermit entered the city his senses were assaulted, by the bright colors, the smell, and finally the noise of the busy city, for a couple seconds it completely overloaded his senses. For almost a century the hermit had only known the drab colours and the quiet whispers of the deep forest. Now he found himself in one the famous tree cities of the Elven Kingdom. He had resigned himself that this would be a quick visit to the city just to see what this nonsense about a war.

As he walked on the forest floor on the lowest level of the city, above the forest forage had blocked out the sun, the shops were lit up combination of magic lights and oil lamps. He glanced at a glassed window of a store and spied his own reflection. He was dressed in worn leather hunting clothes a strap hung over shoulder attached to his hunting musket. His long unkempt white hair was a sign that he was an ancient elf nearing the end of his long lifespan. At this moment he felt his age and was having second thoughts on why he was here.

He was making his way towards the heart of the city to see if he could find someone to explain what the current situation. He was working his way through the busy markets when he noticed that a crowd had mustered around the main thoroughfare. It looked like there was a parade, perhaps this supposed war was already over, he thought to himself. He remembered his last visit to this city he had been part of a victory parade.

That had been many years in past he mused. As he made his way through the crowd, which was mostly elves, he was shocked to see the troops on parade were not his people. On large warhorses riding proudly down the street as if they owned the place were tusk faced humanoids his people called Orcs. These fierce goblinoid warriors looked like they were hardened veterans, each had a pair of flintlock pistols and a vicious sabre they were prepared for war. The old hermit was stunned, the war must be going very badly if Orcs were not only welcomed but also celebrated.

A young youth who was watching the parade turned to the hermit and spoke.

"We should be able to show the Union a thing or two now that we have the orcs on our side."

The old hermit did not know how to respond to that statement perhaps he spent too long in the wilds, he had no idea of the current politics, but things must be dire if the Kingdom were now reliant on orcs.

"Hi, I'm Lancia, I'm here to enlist to fight the union"

The youth introduced himself. The old elf took time to examine his new companion. He was a young elf, the old elf would be surprised if the boy had reached two hundred years, he also bore a familiar face. A face of Captain of the Kings guard, an elf that had given his life for the old elf. It was a painful memory.

"I was looking for the military barracks, you don't happen to know where they are?"

The youth continued obviously he was not a local. Since the old elf was going in the same direction. He signed and said.

"Come on follow me I’ll show the way"

The quickest way to the barracks was to take the highway. Walking over to one of the public staircases which wrapped its way around one of the Great White Wood that were fabric of the Elven Cities they began the climb up the enormous tree. It seemed that this tree was owned by one of the Tailor Guilds and it had various clothing stores embedded into the tree, melded into the tree using secret Elven forest Magic. These shops were showing their latest wares, which now was various military uniforms. He mused that tailors were one of careers that seemed to profit from war.

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As they winded their way up the tree past all the shops more of the city came to view. At the center of the city stood the oldest and largest tree in the city from which all the rest of great white woods of this city would have been seeded. This tree was both the spiritual and literal heart of the city. Within this tree the current rulers of the city made their home. A collection bridges connected all the trees together and formed a pathway that lead directly to the Old White Wood it was the highway of the City.

The Ancient White Wood dominated the tree line. At its roots, a grove of new saplings, this was tended by the secretive priestess of the grove. These saplings would be transported to wherever the city needed to expand. Next to this grove was a large complex which was their destination. In days of his youth, there would have been regiments of archers, spearmen, pikemen and the famed swordsmen of Athro making ready to go war.

As he viewed the assortment of troops which had mustered there now. He was surprised to see archers assembled and training. There were other regiments also assembled seemed to be armed with modern weapons. He saw a regiment with bright blue uniform and another regiment in drab green both supporting flintlock muskets and pikes. He spotted a small contingent of the famed Phoenix Guard. The vast majority of those mustered were the local militia who were armed with an assortment of arms and weapons and uniforms.

“Are you a local?"

The inquisitive youth asked.

"No, I'm from Cowden Wen Wych"

The hermit answered naming the capital of the kingdom. The youth looked up

"My family are the Ap Brwydr of Cowden Wen Wych "

Naming an old and prestigious family that the old hermit was knew very well. The youth appeared to say more but suddenly went quiet.

"So, you're a long way from home, away from your family interests and concerns and joining up with army I take it your family has not given their consent"

The old hermit asked. Again, the youth hesitated but nodded his head

"My father died when I was only a baby, and my Grandfather is against getting involved in the war, especially with the King’s illness."

The old hermit frowned

"Mab is ill"

He asked using the king's first name. The youth looked at the old hunter as if he was a simpleton

"The King has been dying for last 30 years".

Thirty years the old hunter thought to himself had it really been so long? He was also thought hard about what the implications of the Ap Brwydr being against the war. There was so much he did not know. The hunter decided he needed to find out more information, plus he wanted to learn more about what was happening in the kingdom.

“You had better tell me more about what has been happening in the Kingdom, I’ve been out of touch for a while.”

For the rest of the journey the youth Lancia talked about the state of the Kingdom, the more he learnt the more dire the current situation appeared. For a start, the kingdom was no longer a unified state and was now a confederation of states ruled by the Princes. These were the old king’s children and grandchildren and although the confederation still maintained it was under a single rule from the capital, in reality the Princes or Princess ruled their own domains as they saw fit. The Prince of Gellifew was only a minor Grandson and Gellifew was considered a backwater provincial settlement. Only a few of his fellow princes had sent support to battle the Union.

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Lancia also gave him more background about the formation of the Union, it began as a collation of human cities had combined with the allied with both dwarves and elven settlements near them for defense.

At first the Elven Confederacy had been supportive and provided weapons and trade to the fledgling nation. However, the Union had aggressively expanded its borders and was soon encroaching on the borders of the Confederacy. Lancia told the hunter that the Union had finally sent an army to invade the Confederacy. The Confederacy had response by sending not one but two armies which had been defeated in battle against the Union with their commanders or Cyffredinol which a General was known in elvish were killed in action.

Lancia also told him about the rumors of experienced commanders going missing throughout the confederacy. The rumors were not very specific what was happening to these Commanders only they had disappeared. Some people claimed that they defected to the Union, whilst other rumors were that they were murdered. Lancia told him that the Princes and Princess were bickering and fighting about how best to deal with the Union, many within the Confederation wanted to make peace and avoid further conflict and Lancia hinted his own family were a part of this faction. Thinking about these new implications he was not sure on how to proceed but he would have to decide because they had arrived at the army barracks.

The barracks was a hive of activity as the Elves prepared to go to war. Outside of the entrance to the barracks sitting at a large table was a veteran sergeant or Rhingyll was signing up new recruits. He looked at the youth and asked

"Hello, are you here to join up? You will be paid two silver coins a week now give me your Name and age"

“It’s Lancia Ap Brwydr”

Lancia answered with his name and again hesitated with his age and then reluctantly answered

“I am one hundred and seventy.”

In most cities in the confederation elven youths were not considered in the majority until they reached the age of two hundred. The sergeant looked up

"Sorry laddie unless you have an elder that can vouch for you, I can't accept your enlistment."

The youth shoulders dropped as his plans seemed to be defeated. The old hermit made his decision, for the time been he would hide his identity, also someone needed to look after the boy, so old hermit stepped up.

"I'm the boy's grandfather I thought we sign up together, I'm here to keep an eye on him.”

“Alright well sign here old timer”

The Rhingyll asked for his signature then asked the old hermit

"Have you seen any action?"

The hermit just nodded his head then in quiet voice as if just talking to himself he said

"Everyone saw action in war of the Long Winter"

Naming the last great war which was fought against the incursions of werewolves and their kin. A war that ended over one hundred and seventy years ago but still left it scars on not just the elven nation but the whole world which had been engulfed in the war.

The rhingyll finished their enlistment told them

“You are now part of the Second Gellifew Regiment under the command of a Colonel Ffwl Cyfoethog.”

The old hermit found it a bit odd that they were using a human or common name for the rank for the commander of a regiment rather than a traditional Elven title of Nghyrnol. The Rhingyll than had a young Chorporaliaid who looked not much older than Lancia to show them around.

The Chorporaliaid was the lowest rank in the army, in the human tongue the rank would be called a Corporal. The barracks were carved into the root of one of the Great White Wood. The Chorporaliaid led them into the barracks and showed them to a large dormitory like room with rows of beds.

“You can stow your gear here. If you need any gear go to the armory and see the quartermaster, you'll be expected to pay for your own equipment, though the quartermaster will give you credit on your wage. Don't get too comfortable I expect now that the Orcs are here, we will be marching out to engage the Union".

The Chorporaliaid then continued

“Word is the union army has already moved past Bryn Afon and are heading straight to Gellifew”

Bryn Afon was a small settlement only a couple weeks away.

Once they had stored their gear the hermit thought to himself better see what type soldier this young boy going to make. He asked.

"How good are you at shooting a musket"

"Let me show you"

The boy had been carrying a long flintlock hunting musket which was favored by elven hunters it was like the hunting musket that the old hunter carried. Outside the barracks there was a shooting range set up with wooden targets which they walked over to.

The boy grinned and loaded up his weapon and then quickly fired off a shot at one the targets. The old hermit watched the shot, it wasn't bad, but there was room for improvement. Loading his own musket, the hunter looked down the barrel and fired off a shot, his shot landed closer to the center of the mark.

It was obvious that youth didn't like the fact that he had been out classed and then as the old hermit, but the old hermit had more to show quickly re loading his musket he let off another shot. Then he spoke.

"In battle it is not how accurate your shot is, but how quickly you fire. Can you continue firing under the conditions of the battlefield? With people dying around you will you be able to keep firing?”

The hermit began drilling his new protegee in proper techniques of loading a flintlock musket. He started with the ten simple steps to loading a flintlock musket first measure off powder for the powder charge into a powder measure. Pour the measured powder down the barrel. Place patch and ball on muzzle. Push the ball into the barrel with starter take out the ramrod. Ram down the barrel. Be sure the ball is completely seated on the powder charge. Clear the vent hole with a pick if necessary. On the flintlock, pour powder into the pan and close the frizzen. On the percussion lock, place cap on the nipple. It all sounded simple but in the heat of the battle these steps could be missed.

He thought back to his own battlefield experiences and knew how important these steps were and how easy they could be messed up on the battlefield. The only way to avoid that was to drill the steps into subconscious so that it became second nature. The old hermit began drilling Lancia on these steps over and over. As he drilled the youngster other volunteers at the practice range also joint the training drills and soon the old hermit found he was drilling a large group of new recruits. He was so focused on the drills that he did not see an officer accompanied by the recruiting Rhingyll arrive. The Rhingyll called everyone to attention. It was only then that the old hermit realised the officer was a Cyffredinol.

He was young to be a Cyffredinol but even living as hermit in the deep forest the old elf had heard of the exploits of the Sliver Fox, Llwynog Arian and his elite Calvary had destroyed some incursions by the wild hill tribes to the north of the confederation this had won him some fame. However, he wasn’t one of the more experienced Commanders who should oversee the Army. The old hunter thought to himself that surely there were qualified Cyffredinol’s to lead the army.

"Well what have we got here looks like we have another veteran Bencampwr."

The Cyffredinol spoke to his Rhingyll.

"He told me he fought in the Long Winter Sir"

The Cyffredinol raised his eyebrow. He asked

"Another veteran is always welcome who taught you the drills"

"Llaw Haearn Sir"

Answered the Hermit. The name was not familiar with the Cyffredinol but the Rhingyll at his shoulder knew the name and provided a famous name known throughout the Confederation.

" Ironhand”

A legend in service Ironhand had formed the black ravens an elite regiment dedicated to guarding the borders of the nation from the southern wastes.

“Are you saying you served with the Black Ravens?"

Asked the Cyffredinol.

"When I served with the Llaw we were just the border guard the name Black Ravens was attached to unit afterwards".

The Old hermit answered.

The Cyffredinol seemed to be in deep thought but then said

"Well looks like we have found another Rhingyll tell the quartermaster that I have made you a Rhingyll and that your to be paid the extra coin for your service.”

Now the hermit found himself as a Rhingyll in the Army about to fight the Union. So much for a quick trip to the City.

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