Rise of the Crimson Standard

Chapter 2

The Whisperstride was a crossbow used exclusively by the Recon Vanguard to hunt down monsters and the like. Charles knew that the vanguard held and used the latest technology in weapons and transportation. And he also knew that the Whisperstride was a weapon that newer members to the Vanguard often thought of as outdated... until they had a chance to use it in the field, of course. It was a long range and precise crossbow, not as precise or ranged as the Quillspike, but what mattered most was that it reloaded and fired quickly like a machine gun and quietly like a crossbow, and that it could be used with a grappling hook with a wire attached to it without any problems. It was also bigger than the average crossbow and made almost completely of steel and elastic wire, with an extendable stock and butt of a rifle for accuracy. Charles gestured to Arlen to start the ride to Timberwren. They'd travelled miles from the capital, Lichenberg to arrive at Rustcreek by rail the night before. And now as the first rays of light from the sun came showering on the earth, they set off for their destination. The Third Corps was still travelling by train to Centerspell so they had to ride what was left of the journey to Timberwren if they wanted to get there as soon as possible. Now it was time to start the next and last leg of their journey towards Timberwren. Arlen nodded at him then turned to the officer next to him and said something. He then started the cry to advance, and the entire formation started the ride. Charles rode in the front, despite his other officer's constant protests that he should be careful and ride in the back where it was safest. To appease them, he had agreed to let Arlen ride with him. He glanced back at the men riding the four-wedge formation, one in front, one in back, and the other two on either side, all facing forwards with a hundred and twenty soldiers in each. Charles smiled. These were the toughest, bravest, and most veteran soldiers of the entire army. And he was proud to lead them. The men from the other divisions of the army called them blackcloaks, on account of them being the only army division that had the soldiers wearing black cloaks with the white eagle's eye on it as a part of their gear.

Arlen said "What?"

"What?"

"What the hell are you smiling like that for?"

Charles shook his head, the smile never leaving his face "I'm just... happy to be leading you".

Arlen studied his face for a moment and nodded "And we're all happy to be led by you".

Charles raised an eyebrow. Arlen turned forward and said "Don't tell anybody I said that to you".

Charles nodded and looked forward, focusing on riding towards their destination. Pity the Third Corps had to take this long to get to Centerspell by train. Charles wanted to get to Timberwren as fast as possible and get his delivery from Captain Marcus. If things went well, and the things worked, they would have a new, better, and much more efficient weapon against the Nightstalkers. Of course, he hadn't told the Field Marshal about it. Another one of his secrets.

Percival looked at the opened envelope on the desk in front of him. It had held his official posting in the Third Corps as a Second Lieutenant, and a briefing on the mission the Third Corps was tasked with. Also, it had held his rank insignia, which he'd put on without much delay. Percival then returned his thoughts to the briefing in front of him. His hopes had come true. The Third had been tasked with taking the fight to the Beastman army which had assembled under one of their leaders, the Brute, named for his brutal viciousness as an animal. Percival would be joining his new comrades and the soldiers under his command in a few hours. Percival sighed and put the briefing back in the envelope. They'd have to go north from Timberwren, crossing the river and finally arriving at the forest. There, they'd wait for the enemy army to make their next move. What bothered Percival was that five thousand men of the Third Corps was to execute this plan, while some fifteen thousand, which would arrive a day later, would head northeast to do the real work and draw the enemy out. Meanwhile, Percival would just be sitting there with the rest of the Third, trying to block off the enemies escape route. Damn it. This wasn't what he'd signed up for. He'd signed up for blood. He'd signed up for revenge.