His name was Stenn, and he was every bit the man his reputation said he would be.
Zael would know; he joined Stenn's rebellion before the first actual engagement. See, Stenn lived in the far eastern fringes of Anirian territory. And ever since the Revolution struck, apparently a bunch of those smaller settlements started remembering a time before Anirian rule. They watched the wars of reclamation rage across Anirian territory, and they waited; maybe for the best opportunity as Anirian forces were engaged elsewhere, but more than that, Zael thought, for someone of their number to step up and lead them. And so Stenn did.
Gilram and his Rogues caught wind of Stenn and the budding unrest in the far east when a few small Guard Garrisons and patrols were destroyed. Maybe there was something to this. Maybe it deserved a little investment. So Zael Castomir, certainly not the most valuable among the Rogues' number, was offered the chance to help out. And Zael accepted, coming down from a long stay in Elbion doing a lot of non-combat things, deal-making and hand-shaking and what not.
It was time for Zael to get back into the fight.
And this...this really seemed like it was going to be something. A master strategist, they called Stenn. Zael believed it. The Guard at first sent a small force, a company, to deal with Stenn. He caught them in a trap and crushed them, minimal losses on his part. The Guard sent a bigger force then. Stenn did it again, caught them in a trap and crushed them, minimal losses. So the Guard sent an even bigger force after him. And Stenn did it again. Zael was there for each of these engagements, and Stenn's mind for terrain and timing and logistics and the inner workings of how his enemy would think and react were second to none.
If this kept up, who knew how far it could go? Zael dared to dream. He thought this could be it, the wave of rebellion which would topple the Republic and provide the fertile ground for the liberation of all Dreadlords.
The Army of the East had had enough of Stenn, however.
Commander Gerrecht, in a speech to the 10th Homeguard, cried out in stern tones, "General Marr wants this problem eliminated! You are the 10th Homeguard, and you have been chosen to be the General's blunt instrument. We will find the rebel leader Stenn, and we will crush him, and that is the end of the story! I will tolerate no fearful whispers, no defeatist talk, not a single word giving the man Stenn some mythical quality! He is a man, and like all men, he can bleed. We will see to it!"
And so the battle between Stenn's rebels and the 10th Homeguard was set. Stenn had word spread that he and his forces were inside a town by the name of Vel Kastula. The 10th was coming to get him, and this is exactly where he wanted them.
Stenn's rebels had not the manpower nor the gear to match the 10th, and so the only hope of victory lay in cunning strategy. This is what Stenn devised to do:
He had all of the Kastulan civilians flee the city and head east. Then, he had all his men and women dress up as the Kastulan civilians, some hiding weapons and armor under clothing, some hiding in houses and perches and corners unseen, plenty hiding and waiting all throughout the town. He did this, and left the gates to Vel Kastula open.
Commander Gerrecht arrived. He started to prepare for a siege, but was informed that no defenders were sighted on the walls, and that the gates were open. A strange thing, and the Commander's alert was raised. He sent in scouts to reconnoiter the town—ride through, observe, question the "civilians". The reports Commander Gerrecht received all indicated that Stenn and his forces had abandoned the town. Fearing now some clever maneuver which might catch his men unprepared, Commander Gerrecht ordered his men to march into the city.
And when they were inside, all in the streets and out of proper battle formation and vulnerable, the trap was sprung.
It is said that Commander Gerrecht was the first to fall, slain by a killing bolt from Stenn himself. Some variations of the story abound, but this is the most common. Zael didn't know the truth, because he wasn't there in the city center when it all broke out. All he knew was his own part.
Zael killed his fair share of 10th Guardsmen, alright. He tried not to be too flashy, using too much magic, calling too much attention to himself for enemy Dreadlords to home in on and get the drop on him. Still, as it turned out, he'd face one. More than one, actually.
In a dilapidated stables that Zael crashed into from the roof, he came face to face with an Initiate inside, someone from a much earlier class than his own. He knew him, vaguely, having seen him around the Academy. Never until that moment had they spoken a word to one another, and now here they were, enemies, and it was cryin' shame that these would be the first (and last) words said:
"Armin, was it? We don't have to do this."
But Armin wasn't having any of that kind of talk, so said the look in his eyes and the twin daggers he drew. Maybe he knew about Zael in particular, told about the blond one-eyed boogeyman of Ganfarred from his Proctors, or maybe he was just intent on his mission in support of the 10th in general and meant to harbor no Rogues. Didn't matter, because no matter the cause there was no discussion to be had.
And so they fought. Fought for a decent while, in fact; Armin had some skill alright, despite being younger and a bit smaller than Zael. Truth be told, it got Zael's blood pumping like it hadn't done in a long time, and that naked love for fighting resurfaced; for a few fleeting spots in the fight he almost forgot that it was to the death, in service of war, and not a friendly spar at all.
In the end, Zael would prevail. His breastplate was broken off by Armin's magic, he'd suffered a series of wounds here and there, but his sword found purchase across Armin's neck and sliced it open. The young Initiate fell clutching at his throat, blood squirting from between his fingers.
Yet something curious happened as Zael looked upon him. He saw not Armin's face...but the faces of people he knew. Friends, fellow Initiates, brothers and sisters (or they who were the closest thing to it) even. Gaage, Vance, Everleigh, Ralene, Edric, Kristen, Ollie, Sable, Lumen, Henk, Alistair—
—and even Sieglilly.
"What the hell am I doin?" Zael said quietly to himself.
He moved then. Just acted. He kneeled down by Armin's side and pulled from his pack a wad of bandages and in vain tried to stifle the bleeding. Armin was dead, and yet for a moment more Zael, swept up in the tide that had overcome him, kept trying to save the life which was already lost.
Here it was, doing this, that he would be found. And not by any ordinary man or woman of either Stenn's rebels or the 10th Homeguard.
Tahi
Zael would know; he joined Stenn's rebellion before the first actual engagement. See, Stenn lived in the far eastern fringes of Anirian territory. And ever since the Revolution struck, apparently a bunch of those smaller settlements started remembering a time before Anirian rule. They watched the wars of reclamation rage across Anirian territory, and they waited; maybe for the best opportunity as Anirian forces were engaged elsewhere, but more than that, Zael thought, for someone of their number to step up and lead them. And so Stenn did.
Gilram and his Rogues caught wind of Stenn and the budding unrest in the far east when a few small Guard Garrisons and patrols were destroyed. Maybe there was something to this. Maybe it deserved a little investment. So Zael Castomir, certainly not the most valuable among the Rogues' number, was offered the chance to help out. And Zael accepted, coming down from a long stay in Elbion doing a lot of non-combat things, deal-making and hand-shaking and what not.
It was time for Zael to get back into the fight.
And this...this really seemed like it was going to be something. A master strategist, they called Stenn. Zael believed it. The Guard at first sent a small force, a company, to deal with Stenn. He caught them in a trap and crushed them, minimal losses on his part. The Guard sent a bigger force then. Stenn did it again, caught them in a trap and crushed them, minimal losses. So the Guard sent an even bigger force after him. And Stenn did it again. Zael was there for each of these engagements, and Stenn's mind for terrain and timing and logistics and the inner workings of how his enemy would think and react were second to none.
If this kept up, who knew how far it could go? Zael dared to dream. He thought this could be it, the wave of rebellion which would topple the Republic and provide the fertile ground for the liberation of all Dreadlords.
* * * * *
The Army of the East had had enough of Stenn, however.
Commander Gerrecht, in a speech to the 10th Homeguard, cried out in stern tones, "General Marr wants this problem eliminated! You are the 10th Homeguard, and you have been chosen to be the General's blunt instrument. We will find the rebel leader Stenn, and we will crush him, and that is the end of the story! I will tolerate no fearful whispers, no defeatist talk, not a single word giving the man Stenn some mythical quality! He is a man, and like all men, he can bleed. We will see to it!"
And so the battle between Stenn's rebels and the 10th Homeguard was set. Stenn had word spread that he and his forces were inside a town by the name of Vel Kastula. The 10th was coming to get him, and this is exactly where he wanted them.
* * * * *
Stenn's rebels had not the manpower nor the gear to match the 10th, and so the only hope of victory lay in cunning strategy. This is what Stenn devised to do:
He had all of the Kastulan civilians flee the city and head east. Then, he had all his men and women dress up as the Kastulan civilians, some hiding weapons and armor under clothing, some hiding in houses and perches and corners unseen, plenty hiding and waiting all throughout the town. He did this, and left the gates to Vel Kastula open.
Commander Gerrecht arrived. He started to prepare for a siege, but was informed that no defenders were sighted on the walls, and that the gates were open. A strange thing, and the Commander's alert was raised. He sent in scouts to reconnoiter the town—ride through, observe, question the "civilians". The reports Commander Gerrecht received all indicated that Stenn and his forces had abandoned the town. Fearing now some clever maneuver which might catch his men unprepared, Commander Gerrecht ordered his men to march into the city.
And when they were inside, all in the streets and out of proper battle formation and vulnerable, the trap was sprung.
It is said that Commander Gerrecht was the first to fall, slain by a killing bolt from Stenn himself. Some variations of the story abound, but this is the most common. Zael didn't know the truth, because he wasn't there in the city center when it all broke out. All he knew was his own part.
* * * * *
Zael killed his fair share of 10th Guardsmen, alright. He tried not to be too flashy, using too much magic, calling too much attention to himself for enemy Dreadlords to home in on and get the drop on him. Still, as it turned out, he'd face one. More than one, actually.
In a dilapidated stables that Zael crashed into from the roof, he came face to face with an Initiate inside, someone from a much earlier class than his own. He knew him, vaguely, having seen him around the Academy. Never until that moment had they spoken a word to one another, and now here they were, enemies, and it was cryin' shame that these would be the first (and last) words said:
"Armin, was it? We don't have to do this."
But Armin wasn't having any of that kind of talk, so said the look in his eyes and the twin daggers he drew. Maybe he knew about Zael in particular, told about the blond one-eyed boogeyman of Ganfarred from his Proctors, or maybe he was just intent on his mission in support of the 10th in general and meant to harbor no Rogues. Didn't matter, because no matter the cause there was no discussion to be had.
And so they fought. Fought for a decent while, in fact; Armin had some skill alright, despite being younger and a bit smaller than Zael. Truth be told, it got Zael's blood pumping like it hadn't done in a long time, and that naked love for fighting resurfaced; for a few fleeting spots in the fight he almost forgot that it was to the death, in service of war, and not a friendly spar at all.
In the end, Zael would prevail. His breastplate was broken off by Armin's magic, he'd suffered a series of wounds here and there, but his sword found purchase across Armin's neck and sliced it open. The young Initiate fell clutching at his throat, blood squirting from between his fingers.
Yet something curious happened as Zael looked upon him. He saw not Armin's face...but the faces of people he knew. Friends, fellow Initiates, brothers and sisters (or they who were the closest thing to it) even. Gaage, Vance, Everleigh, Ralene, Edric, Kristen, Ollie, Sable, Lumen, Henk, Alistair—
—and even Sieglilly.
"What the hell am I doin?" Zael said quietly to himself.
He moved then. Just acted. He kneeled down by Armin's side and pulled from his pack a wad of bandages and in vain tried to stifle the bleeding. Armin was dead, and yet for a moment more Zael, swept up in the tide that had overcome him, kept trying to save the life which was already lost.
Here it was, doing this, that he would be found. And not by any ordinary man or woman of either Stenn's rebels or the 10th Homeguard.
Tahi
