Captain Aldric of the Seventh Seal, a slender, middle-aged man with an athletic build and stringy brown hair would never admit it to his half-giant commander, but he took a secret pleasure in watching the man ride a horse.

Oh, Daveth was an accomplished horseman, It was just hilarious to see such a huge man make a normal horse look like a child’s pony. Admittedly it was costly; there weren’t many horses strong enough to accommodate the man for any length of time, but still, it was funny to see the man’s legs hunched up as he rode a saddle much too small for him.

Aldric amused himself watching Daveth’s party return, moving up the road to Andersnacht.

Daveth slid off his horse, which seemed to glare at him as the rest of his party peeled away to their camp on the other side of the road. There wasn’t much he could do for the poor beast, however. He’d spotted Aldric at the top of the hill that opened up into the town proper, a knowing smirk pasted across his captain’s face. He knew how ridiculous he looked. Daveth briefly entertained the idea of dismounting and throwing the beast at Aldric, see if that wiped the smug look off his captain’s face. That’d teach him.

Instead, he reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out the metal arrow, and tossed it underhanded at the man, who caught it, fumbled it, and dropped it with a curse, shaking his hands.

“The fuck is that?” Aldric demanded. “Must weigh thirty pounds!” He picked it back up and eyed it warily.

Daveth gave him a complicated look. “I yanked it out of one of the trees near the village you wanted us to visit.” He paused. “Place was burned to a crisp. Flattened. No bodies.”

Aldric turned the arrow over and over in his hand, twirling it. “Any leads?”

“Besides that?” Daveth asked, gesturing at the arrow. “Just speculation. I don’t think it’s bandits. Think someone’s trying to get Ulric to fuck off.”

He then explained what he’d seen; the village burned to the ground but the fields themselves untouched.

“Good observation.” Aldric complimented. “Daveth, do you know what this is?”

“A fuckhuge arrow.” Daveth replied, spreading his hands.

Alric rolled his eyes at him. “I’m saying I agree with you. No simple bandit would have something like this.”

Daveth patiently waited for an explanation, but Aldric wasn’t forthcoming.

“So what is it?” He finally asked.

“Something I didn’t think I’d see way the fuck out here in all this grass. It’s a flechette.” Aldric revealed, dropping it so that it hit the dirt point-down. The sheer weight of it pushed it a couple of inches into the soil before it tipped and fell over with a clatter. He looked up at Daveth.

“Were you seen?”

“What do you mean, ‘was I seen’. I was riding with the cavalry, flying the banner.” Daveth argued.

Alric sighed. “I was hoping you were seen. Maybe we can bait them in. Kick their asses around a little.”

Daveth spread his hands again. “No fucking clue.”

“You’re no fucking help.” Aldric cursed back at the man, tilting his head back to glare at the other man.

“You go out and wave the banners around a bit.” Daveth suggested. “My horse is fucked.”

Daveth jerked his head up at a thin, high screech that rolled across the plains.

“The fuck is that?” He asked.

“A bird?” Aldric offered doubtfully.

“No bird I know of.” Daveth shook his head. “Drake, maybe?” He offered.

Aldric snorted. “Pffft. No. They don’t sound like that. You should know that better than anyone.”

“Then what the fuck is it?” Daveth asked.

“Trouble.” Aldric replied. “I’m going back to my camp. Get your men ready.”

Daveth looked down the road. The main road that lead straight from Doran to Andersnacht, mostly ran north-south, ending in a short hilly road that rose to Andersnacht, nestled in the hills. There was another rutted track that intersected it that ran from the east and sort of dead-ended there; a route used by other villages bringing their harvests to the tiny town before everything moved up to Doran in the north.

The eastern side of the road was protected somewhat by rising hills; the hills also obscured anything travelling up that rutted track. There was nothing that obscured the west before it dead-ended in a sheer mountain cliff that formed the edge of the coastal mountain range that ran along the southeastern edge of the Tiba peninsula. In short: to the east: rolling plains. To the west: the mountain range that blocked access to the Sea of Mirras.

A creaking wooden thing that looked like a wooden cart with too many wheels appeared along the eastern road, wheels spinning, kicking up dust.

It lurched and turned on a dime so that it faced them.

"Aldric, get your men ready!" Daveth shouted as the thing lurched towards them.

Bandits, no longer content to run down merchant trains, had assembled an enormous contraption of wheels and wagons, had bolted on a couple of looted cannon and somehow got it moving without horses. There was a wedge-shaped prow in the front, and the sides were supported with row after row of wheels. Ducking behind the prow of the thing were perhaps a double dozen men with crossbows, while two four-man crews operated the two cannon on a raised platform behind the crossbowmen, and the wooden contraption groaned and rattled and made its advance on the township.

A blast of steam gushed from the ass of the contraption with another ear-splitting screech shriek as it lurched forward, now picking up speed.

Aldric returned to Daveth's side at the giant's yell and pulled out a spyglass and eyed the groaning, rattling behemoth as it churned up the road, wheels spinning to gain purchase.

“There’s... perhaps sixteen crossbowmen on top... By the Void, are those cannon?” He cursed.

Daveth took the spyglass from Aldric, who cursed up at him, and focused on the wooden tank rolling up the road.

“You’re right, they do have cannon. They’ve got wooden bulwarks on the sides and that angled prow up front will be problematic.” Daveth muttered. “Infantry would be mowed down by the crossbowmen, cavalry would break against it. We’ll use archers and mages.”

Aldric shook his head, disagreeing instantly. “Those bulwarks and the angled prow basically give unrestricted cover to the crossbowmen. I’ll agree to the mages, though. What do you think about sending a file of infantry around to flank?” Aldric asked the half-giant standing next to him. Daveth shook his head. “No telling when that jet of steam will happen again, or if they can make it happen at will. The infantry’d get cooked in their armor. Send a file of cavalry instead, but only after the mages and archers engage. Skirmishers, chopping at wheels, hooks to drag crossbowmen off the deck.” Aldric nodded. “I agree. Let’s draw them in.”

“Audra.” Daveth called, and the elf girl, who was standing a short distance away, trotted over.

“Yes, Commander?” She asked with an impudent grin.

“Go get me that bastard Winpen.” He replied, gesturing at the contraption that groaned, rattled and screeched. She nodded and jogged off.

“You gonna make Audra your second in command?” Aldric asked casually, and Daveth shrugged. “Don’t know. Probably not, she’s more use to me as a scout.”

He glanced to the side and spotted Audra dragging the elven mage over.

“Winpen, I’ll need you and the other mages to hit that thing with whatever you can. Fire, ice, I don’t care, but that shit better get fucked up.” Daveth ordered, pointing it out.

“By the Nameless Stone and my hope of rebirth, what in all the demon-hells is that thing?” Winpen cursed.

“I dunno. But it’s got cannon and crossbowmen, and they’ve got themselves a nice little battlement that they can duck behind to shrug off our counterattack, so that means it’s up to the mages to hit that fucker hard.” Daveth replied. A puff of smoke from the side of the tank, and something droned by his head.

Daveth hurriedly dropped to the dirt, adrenaline dumping in his veins, vaguely aware that Aldric, Audra, and Winpen all did the same. Perversely, the thundercrack of cannonfire washed over them just then, a trick of light and sound.

“Fuck me.” Daveth breathed. “Everyone all right?” He called, and Audra responded. “Scared shitless, sir.” From his left. He nodded.

“Don’t know if I was shitless before, but I am now.” Aldric replied dourly from his right. Daveth turned his head, and spotted Winpen, an iron flechette buried in his skull.

“Shit. We lost the mage.” Daveth groaned. He glanced about for cover as the thing groaned and rattled its way towards the village.

“Tree.” He decided, and got up and ran, arms swinging, legs pumping. He ducked and slid and scrambled, slamming his back against the tree trunk. Aldric dropped behind a nearby boulder a scant second later.

“We’re cut off from our squads, Daveth. We can’t hope to take it on our own.” Aldric warned. The air filled with the thundering crack of cannonfire, and a fusillade of crossbow bolts thunked woodenly into the tree Daveth was crouched behind.

"At least one of those cannon is firing flechettes." Adric called.

“No shit.” Daveth cursed.

“We’re in the shit now, Daveth!” Aldric yelled.

“We’ve been in worse!” Daveth yelled back, judging distances.

“Oh yeah? Name one!” Aldric hollered.

“Allyen!” Daveth retorted.

“Fuck you!” Aldric shouted back as a cannonball whistled overhead this time. “That wasn't even my fault! We got baited that time. This one's on you!"

"Fuck you!" Daveth retorted hotly.

"Where the hell are are your men, Daveth?” Aldric demanded.

"Winpen took a goddamn bolt through his pox-riddled skull and my men are dug in across the fucking road!" Daveth yelled. "I sure as hell ain't running aross their line of fire; get your files!"

"Where in the demon-hells are my archers?!” Aldric yelled at him.

Daveth jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be set up on this flank. What the hell happened to the plan?”

“Void take the plan!” Aldric yelled at him. “We can’t take this thing, we have to fall back!”

Daveth took a deep breath that reeked of rank ozone, the stench of gunpowder, blood, and shattered earth.

“Dammit.” Daveth cursed, hunched down behind a tree. Aldric crouched by a nearby boulder, pinned down and cut off from his squads.

An arrow suddenly took one of the cannoneer in the neck, toppling him over. A second arrow took out another. Suddenly a hail of crossbow bolts peppered Daveth and Aldric’s position.

“Hello, commander. You asked for an archer?” A voice floated sweetly down from the tree.

“Don’t “Hello, Commander” me!” Daveth cursed. “Take out those crossbowmen!”

“The cannoneers are more of a threat, though.” the elven ranger called out, and another arrow flew and took one of the crossbowmen in the chest. He pitched forward with a cry, and the steamwagon’s myriad wheels ground him under indifferently.

“No, they aren’t. It takes about two minutes to load and fire each shot.” Daveth countered. “The crossbowmen operate in waves; they can put at least eight bolts on target in that time.”

“As you say, commander.” was her amused reply as one of the three cannon pivoted towards them by the crew.

“Awww hells.” Daveth got out from behind the tree before the cannon roared and the hillside behind him exploded.

“Lucky they’re not good shots.” he muttered as clods of dirt rained down. “Set them on fire!” Daveth called up the tree.

“How am I supposed-” a grunt and an arrow flew, taking out another crossbowman, “-to do that, Commander?” She asked.

“Shit.” He cursed again.

“I can’t set anything on fire with that, commander.” She joked as she launched another arrow.

Daveth glimpsed a flash of white-on-black from across the road, low to the ground.

“Eirawen!” Daveth yelled, and the strange woman that radiated an unearthly, deathly cold from her whole body popped up from the other side of the road. Daveth signalled, and pointed to the tank.

“Dunmharu!” She yelled at the tank, and suddenly, for some reason the crossbowmen began firing at each other.

“What in the Void?” Aldric wondered.

Eirawen casually strolled to the wooden tank, unmindful of the chaos, and began tearing planks and wheels from the thing with frightful, supernatural strength. The planks of wood were several inces thick, it would take a man of Daveth's strength to break them, but she was tearing them off methodically while the crossbowmen mindlessly fought amongst themselves.

She crawled inside the hole she'd torn into the side of the thing, and it ground to a stop. Daveth whistled several times; a signal to his troops he hoped they heard.

Suddenly ice spikes bloomed, rupturing and tearing the wooden tank apart from the inside out. The ass end of the wooden contraption screeched again, ear-splitting at this range, and without reason or sense the entire thing blew apart in a shower of wood and metal, the steam flash-vaporizing the ice and settling into an impenetrable fog.

Audra dropped from the tree with an acrobat’s grace and moved to his side. “What on Aggenmor did she do?” She asked Daveth. He shook his head. “No clue.” He examined the shattered wreck; there were bodies and planks scattered everywhere, gaudy splashes of blood and entrails, and a thick cloud of mist that hung over everything.

Eirawen stumbled out of the mist, a large gash on the side of her head and her glossy black armor scuffed, scraped, and looking like it had been worked over with hundreds of hammers.

“Commander...” She called, staggering. She clutched his cloak weakly, smearing a bloody handprint, and then collapsed.

“Audra, can you fetch a healer?” He asked, and she nodded, trotting back to the shattered hillock. He knelt by Eirawen, the frost knight.

“What did you do?” He asked. She opened her eyes, blinked wearily a few times, closed them and seemed to fall unconscious.

Aldric eyed the mess distastefully. "The fuck did she do?" He asked. Daveth shook his head.

"How's your side look?" the giant asked his captain.

"Haven't checked. Should be fine, since they were mostly shooting at you and I. You should check your side, though. They got off at least one shot at your side of the road."

Daveth trotted over to the other side of the road where his troops were dug in. "Head count!" He called, and one of his file leaders, Morden, stood up. "Already done. We lost seven."

"Fuck." Daveth cursed.

Daveth snorted. “Well, Aldric, problem solved. We lost seven men from my files; how many did you lose?” He reported as he returned to his captain's side.

One of the silver-eyed women he’d recruited approached from Aldric’s ranks and saluted, fist to heart. “Lord Commander, we lost five. Three are dead, two are incapable of further combat.” She glanced at Eirawen, and her mouth twisted disapprovingly for a moment. Daveth raised an eyebrow at this, and her eyes lifted to his. They eyed each other for a few minutes. Her look was challenging, with a hint of reproach. He tried to place her name. She was... the unfriendly one. The other one, the one she called her sister, was usually friendly and more inclined to be sociable. What was her name again?

“Alysia.” He remembered, and she inclined her head coolly. Aldric was watching their interchange with an expression of consternation and amusement.

“Yes, Lord Commander?” She acknowledged politely.

“You seem to have a problem with Eirawen. Care to share it with me?” He inquired. There were several subtle reactions to his question; her eyebrow twitched, her nostrils flared briefly, and her lips parted.

“I cannot agree with her methodology, Lord Commander.” She managed. “We do not see eye-to-eye.”

“Oh?” He asked. “How would you have handled this situation?” He asked, gesturing at the battlefield, which reeked of blood and gunsmoke.

Her eyes flicked to the remains of the wooden tank. “With honor, Lord Commander.” She remarked.

He smiled at her and his face softened. “It was definitely... inelegant.” She nodded.

He blew out a breath. “Well, what’s done is done, and can’t be undone.” He turned as Audra ran up, dragging a healer with her.

“Reporting, Commander.” Audra announced, with a snappy salute. Daveth snorted. In the three weeks since she’d signed on, she’d been the talk of his company. Well, her and Eirawen, but where people regarded Eirawen with suspicion, uneasiness and reluctance, people tended to gravitate around Audra, who radiated cheerfulness, wit, and quick thinking. The healer bent to Eirawen, but grimaced, stood, and shook his head. “I can’t heal her. There’s a... force, something that’s resisting me.” He kept wiping his hands on his shirt distastefully. “She seems to be healing herself anyway, so it seems like I’m not needed.” He looked up at Daveth. “Shall I report to Aldric’s forces and heal there as well?” Daveth nodded, he saluted Daveth and Aldric, and trotted across the road and up the short hillock to where Aldric’s forces were tending their forces.

“Hey, Daveth.” Aldric frowned. “Bandits usually don’t have the ingenuity to build shit like this.”

Daveth snorted. “No shit they don’t.” He nudged one of the small cannon with his foot, a vase cannon about four feet long and eight inches in diameter. He nodded under Aldric’s frowning gaze, though. “Still, they weren’t ingenious to armor the thing... and if we’d had some decent fire mages we could have resolved this a lot quicker.”

Aldric shook his head. “I’m not convinced. All the wagons, the weight of the cannon, the steam engine, it all adds up. Adding armor likely would cause the whole thing to collapse.”

“So what, taking damage is an acceptable risk?” Daveth inquired.

“Possibly.” Audra piped up. "This town doesn’t have a standing militia.” She jerked her thumb at the hamlet. “It doesn’t even have a respectable fence.”

“So what was the plan, then? Drive in, shoot everyone, burn it flat like the others?” Daveth asked. “To what end? Bandits aren’t farmers or craftsmen, and even if they were, they’d have their own village, rather than taking someone elses’.”

“It is impossible to comprehend the motives of lowborn criminals, Lord Commander.” Alysia responded. “It is simply our duty to stamp them out.” Audra made a face at that.

“On the contrary, Alysia.” Aldric said, turning to her, “It is possible. Becoming a criminal does not rob you of your wits. Consider the man who steals to feed his starving family.” Alysia snorted derisively.

Daveth folded his arms across his chest and thumbed his chin while he was thinking.

“You’re thinking something, Daveth.” Aldric observed. Daveth nodded absently. “Was thinking where they came from. It came right up the road, even going so far as to round the corner down there. I’m thinking it wasn't designed for offroad travel...” He knelt and smoothed a place in the dirt. Audra hunkered down next to him, and he reached over to the quiver on her back and drew one of her arrows.

Using the point he drew a rough circle for the hamlet, a couple of hills to either side, and then a short road that curved off to the east sharply.

“It came from the east. All the bandit attacks occurred on this road and” he reached over and drew a wider road that paralleled the north-south road that lead to Doran, “This one. There’s gotta be something we missed on our way in. A farmer’s cart track, or something. They had to keep it hidden, they had to keep to roads. We need a barn or some other large workshop where they could work on it undetected and unmolested.” Aldric nodded sagely. “I get you, I get you.”

Daveth turned to Audra, who was so close he recoiled, overbalanced and fell back on his butt. She chuckled at him. “Yes, Commander?” She asked salaciously. Daveth grinned at her. “Take some of the others- anyone you trust to sneak around quietly- and check out this area. Don’t attack. I think Aldric wants to try and negotiate with them.” He pushed himself to his feet and looked to his commander. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Aldric nodded. “Cannon are not the province of bandits unless they're really fucking lucky. Gunpowder even moreso. Things don’t really add up. I hate it when things don’t add up.” He mused, and turned to Alysia. “We’re going to stay another night or two. Go and set up camp again.” He turned to Daveth. “Under the circumstances, it might be best to have your squads set up camp on this side, though I’ll leave it up to you.”

"What're the chances that was the whole of their forces?" Daveth asked.

Aldric shook his head. "All we've seen of them is this, sure. But someone had to design it. Build it. Get it working. I can't think that all of them piled into this thing after they made it. Even if they did, we still need to find where it came from."

Audra trotted off, but in the wrong direction; towards the road instead of where the men were stationed. Daveth shook his head, bent down, and hauled Eirawen up and over his shoulder. She was surprisingly light, even counting her armor and those ostentatious swords of hers. He started back to his side of the road, calling out orders for his men to start setting up their tents.