《The Westmarch War (A NaNoWriMo 2017 winner)》Chapter 18
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Aris Cretu's Journal
Twenty Third of November, Seven Hundred and Sixty Ninth year since the Seminal War
We made it back to the northern outposts under cover of darkness and with our gunpowder wealth in tow. I find myself amazed that the Army of the Jeweled Cities has not yet taken them, if only to relieve the crowding inside Fort Westmarch. Then again, we of Ironbark did manage to lose almost three hundred men and the northern outposts when Clan Glacierheart assaulted them, and that fact was relayed obediently back to Sapphire at the time. So perhaps the General of the Army of The Jeweled Cities isn't dumb enough to stick his men into the same trap.
Shaman Mul seems to be doing better. She hasn't needed to cry on my shoulder any more, and seems less distracted most of the time. I don't think she'll ever get her old zest for life back, which is a minor tragedy in its own right. Oddly enough, she never seems cold. Heck, she's still wearing the same lightweight robes she was wearing when I met her back in October. I don't know if I should mark that down to her powers as a shaman or to something else. Since here elevation from Shaman Initiate to full Shaman (A ritual I was not invited to witness), she has been wearing a gold ring. I had thought it a wedding band of some sort, but perhaps it is a minor magical item granted to her as part of her mantle of office? I know little and less of such things. Magic and mantles of office for orcs that is, though orc wedding customs are also an opaque mystery to me.
As for the gunpowder we have spent the last three days in backbreaking labor to bring back with us, it is something of an embarrassment of riches. We have no cannons to expend it in, no way to dig worthwhile mines below Fort Westmarch to place a charge into, and I can think of no other way to expend it profitably. Perhaps we can use it to demolish the northern outposts, but that would also serve to remove bait from the trap set for the Army of the Jeweled Cities. We could try mining the outposts instead, but I'm not sure how we could detonate the charges at an opportune moment. I'm glad we have the gunpowder and the Army of the Jeweled Cities doesn't… but what are we going to do with it?
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Reth Nakima’s Journal
Twenty Third of November, Seven Hundred and Sixty Ninth year since the Seminal War
My Platoon just got ordered to head back down the Westmarch Valley to Sapphire four days early. Wonder who the Lieutenant pissed off to make that happen? Or if the Logistics Corps decided they needed some extra bodies and we got 'volunteered' for the job? Not my place to ask why, only to do or to die.
Still it could be a lot worse, we…
[The page is obscured by a bloodstain]
Nine blazing hells, that was fucking close. My hands are still shaking. Someone killed the guy sitting right next to me. Crossbow bolt came in from somewhere upslope, tore right through the back of his head and out his mouth. I think his severed tongue bounced off of my shoulder. Drivers picked up the pace and the rest of us just got behind whatever cover we could as more bolts, arrows, stones, and even a javelin came in from what seemed like fucking nowhere. Probably rebels and raiders dug into whatever cover they could find, hid themselves at dawn and jumped us because we were the first caravan that passed them by. The drivers got the wagons out of there fast enough that there wasn't any real chance of a fight breaking out.
I'm starting to think that all bards are charlatans with silver tongues. There haven't been any battles in the Westmarch Valley, only ambushes and raids. So much for the glory of serving in the Army of Sapphire. It hasn't even been a week, I've been nearly killed twice, only seen a half-dozen or so rebels or raiders, and haven't even come close to killing a foe in honorable battle. The last is kind of hard to do when said foe discards all honor and refuses to meet in honorable battle. But I guess rebels and raiders don't have any honor any more. They only have their misguided cause and bloodlust to drive them.
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Headcount just came in. Of eighty who set out from Sapphire, now only thirty-four remain. Honorless cowards these rebels and raiders may be, but they seem to be killing us just fine. There must be some way to strike at their source. We must push up into the Glacierheart Mountains, find their hidden fastnesses, and burn them out at the source. That will rip their hearts from their chests and leave them to freeze or starve in the cold embrace of winter. If Lord General Ochen will not do so before the snows begin to fall, then what hope do we have of winning this war?
I wonder what happened to that shipment of gunpowder we left behind? Looking back, we should have probably found some way to spoil it, or pull it away from the road and laid a long fuse. The rebels and raiders have shown no siege weapons, much less cannons, but who knows what deviltry they could get up to with that much powdered destruction? I only hope that they won't find a way to use it, or were unable to recover it.
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The Hero Raised by a Monster
Have you ever woken up in a strange fantasy land for no discernible reason? Don't worry, I know you haven't. But I did! Before we go any further, full disclosure: I am a monster. At least, that's what people tell me. Now, you don't need to be too worried about that because I've got a hero around to make sure I don't cause too much trouble. Well she isn't really a hero yet, but I'm going to make sure she becomes one. After all, I'd really rather not be hunted down just for being what I am. Or maybe it's the murder and property damage? I'm not really sure what it is that sets people off.
8 155Drunk Dungeon
Robert was dead. They just died. Nothing happened that was worth talking about it, especially when considering what their new life was about. Reincarnated as a Dungeon Core, a creation of the system to administer challenges and help mortals and Gods alike grow. But while Robert is perfectly content to live their life creating monsters, making treasure, and getting comfortable in their hole. Fate has other plans. Few places are as valuable as a Dungeon, and fewer still have the resources necessary to make them into pits of unending soldiers. Image is not owned by me. Contact me if you are the artist in question. And want me to take it down.
8 203Goblin Conqueror
The goblin god summoned a champion that will save his people from the abuse of the world. Will he be able to unite all the goblins to fight as one And conquer the world of Gaia!? Or will he fail just like any goblin, helpless in such harsh world..... Gaia..... a wondrous world with many magical creatures, such as Dreadful dragons that rule the sky, fearsome beast that roam the world, different races that battle for supremacy! Lastly the Titans! a race whose power rivals the Gods! How can he survive in such a vast and brutal world? Guess you have to read to find out. This is a fan fiction somehow related to re:monster although I don't have any plan in making him OP. But he will be OP in a different way.
8 114Kanu
Kanu is a heroic fantasy in the shadows of legendary warriors such as Conan and Imaro. A young man hurled away from the safety and protection of his tribe into a world he never imagined. Haunted by nightmares that have plagued his mind since Birth Kanu travels the world searching for the voice inside his head hoping that he may one day know peace. As we know him now, he is an orphan bathed in blood barely escaping the grasp of madness but one day his name shall be spoken in timeless classics and sang of wherever libations may be had. [This is part of the June 2022 Community Magazine]
8 129In Pursuit of Bark's Finest
On the frontiers of transhumanity’s expansion into the galaxy thousands of light years from the light of Sol, things can get rather chaotic. There are countless millions of nascent interstellar nations securing their interests, pirate ships prospering off plunder and deniable mercenary work, dissidents setting up their own civilizations, and other groups all trying to push an agenda. When these groups crash into each other, the results can become extremely messy and convoluted. Recently, a frontier nation calling itself the Red Star Union has found itself at the focal point of one such complication. A freighter under their protection has been sabotaged, hijacked in interstellar space, and robbed of its cargo. This would be bad enough even if all it were carrying was luxury goods, but the freighter Nebula Plow was carrying more than just normal trade goods. Indeed, her cargo of Non-Orientable Wormholes for use in starship power plants was both very expensive and very, very dangerous. Now the Red Star Union has to worry about a pirate crew running around with several extra devices capable of converting matter into antimatter with negligible energy cost. With those, the pirates could be capable of inflicting untold damage if allowed to leverage their ill-gotten gains into a stronger position, a possibility the Union finds completely intolerable. Unfortunately, all that the Red Star Union has to go on for evidence is two names; that of the captain, and that of the ship. The Captain is going by the possible pseudonym of Fuller, while the ship is named Bark’s Finest. And thus the orders came down to the Union’s Bureau of Starforce Intelligence: find more information on these pirates, conclusively identify them, and figure out where exactly they’ve gone to ground so that the fleet can crush them before they get established. Of the many agents that the bureau assigned to this mission, one would happen to play an important role: Field Agent Madeline Zargosty. This is her story. This story is entirely pre-written, and will have one chapter released per week. If you want to read it all ahead of schedule and get access to some premium-exclusive bonus content, the entire book is available for purchase; links to the appropriate storefront pages will be posted at the end of each chapter. This story is also being posted to Scribblehub.
8 92Positively Yours
A YinWar Arrange Marriage One-Shot.
8 132