010 - New Gihn I: Charge
“As best as we can determine, all human stock on the continent—no, I’m not calling the entire landmass ‘Varrah’, I’m not drinking the Aegis Origa [ORIGA] kool-aid—anyway, all human stock, including the demihuman Azzeti and other proto-transhuman populations to the far north and east, seem to trace their roots to the crater-basin of Varranir around eighty to a hundred thousand years ago. We can trace them along various ruins containing Ve’un that predate humanity on this world, but… as always, the existence of magic introduces a level of uncertainty that’s quite difficult to cut through.”
-Player Drakecroft of guild Lorehounds [wiki], in an article posted Dec. 18, 2120
The mid-morning sun of the Nor Desert beat down on the canyon floor of Avna—Gihn—baking the rust-red stone until the air shimmered with heat haze.
Ai’s white-gold robes billowed gently from an air-conditioning weave as she floated, a simple cantrip that she kept going at all times. Aru was ensconced in a makeshift papoose of her robes on her back, concealed beneath the folds of her cloak. His rhythmic breathing was a soothing presence amidst the building tension. For his part, the lizard-dog was fast asleep, utterly unbothered by the impending violence.
To Ai’s left and right, the strike team assembled by Karravar Benessel rode in silence.
It was, Ai mused, a ridiculous sight. Like a scene from a Western, if the cowboys were actually wizards and the horses were pachycephalosaurs. A Mesozoic posse, riding out to dispense justice at high noon.
Benessel, Baior, and ten of the fittest soldiers from Outpost Avna were mounted on the Domga they had confiscated from the bandits who had attacked Benessel’s caravan several days ago. The beasts were sturdy bipedal creatures with thick, pebbled hides in shades of dusty ochre and brown. Their most distinctive feature—the thick, bony domes atop their skulls—bobbed in unison as they strode forward with a thumping gait.
They were territorial, but quite domesticable herbivores, living in close-knit family groups in the wild. The Varrans favored them as beasts of burden and of war, a quicker and more combat-ready alternative to the docile Golga. The bandits who had raided Benessel’s caravan had evidently stolen the beasts over the course of their activities, and trained extensively in their use. The Avnans were largely infantrymen, and would have to adapt quickly in the thick of battle.
Then there was Sari. Ai was floating about five and a half meters off the ground, but she had chosen this height so she could be at eye-level with her while they talked on the way here.
The Aspirant herself was astride another of the beasts they had reclaimed from the bandits: the Orgawyr.
The massive predator towered over the Domga around it. Its scales were covered in a reddish-orange and black pattern not unlike that of a tiger, and a crest of display feathers flared from its skull like a crown of fire. A thin plume of firesmoke came from the edges of its mouth, seeping out from between its jagged teeth.
An Orgawyr was dangerous in any situation. It was an apex predator that had been genetically and magically improved by endgame players during the Titanomachy, who had since found themselves released into the wild.
Yet, Sari sat in its saddle with an ease that bordered on complacency, especially since the beast in question was the same one that had attacked their caravan, killing Beaky the Golga as it did.
Sari leaned forward, scratching the terrifying beast along the side of its massive neck.
“Who’s a good girl?” Sari cooed, her voice pitching up. “You are. Yes, you are. Such a brave girl, Balala.”
The Orgawyr—Balala—closed its eyes and let out a sound that was half-growl, half-purr, a horrific sound that sounded like a cross between a hissing crocodile and a blaring tuba that rattled the bones in Ai’s chest from three meters away. The bandit leader from the caravan attack—a deserter from the Varran Warbeast Division, as it turned out—had surrendered the beast’s control jewel with a surprising amount of relief. She’d insisted the creature was a nightmare to manage, but apparently Sari disagreed.
Benessel, riding at the head of the formation, raised a hand to halt the column. They were just around the final bend of the canyon, shielded from view of the New Gihn fortress by a towering wall of sandstone.
“Ayle,” Benessel called out, his voice low and steady. “Confirm the disposition of the enemy one last time, please. The element of surprise is a resource we are only able to spend once.”
It was no skin off Ai’s back to follow Benessel’s lead.
She hovered over the edge of the canyon, using a combination of [Farsight] and her own magical senses to make sense of the New Gihn forces. She could sense the magically proficient simply by extending her Semblance, but the mundane barely registered to her and so required her expend actual effort.
It seemed that only the karra had been Branded—which made tallying them up easier. Perhaps it couldn’t be placed on those with weak Semblances? A sort of minimum threshold of existential presence for it to take hold, maybe? Ai cut that train of thought to focus on the situation at hand; there would be time for theorizing later.
“They haven’t changed significantly since my brief look yesterday,” she reported, coming back down. “That’s approximately… fifty—make that fifty-three—mundane combatants. The majority are armed with… well, let’s be charitable and call them ‘improvised’ weapons. There are sixteen crossbowmen along the walls, and an additional cohort with swords on their hips, but there’s only a handful of those.
“Then there are the karra. Twenty of them in all, mostly of middling talent. I don’t know how you lot measure Semblance—but the vast majority of them wouldn’t be able to weave anything more complex than whatever hermetic tradition they’re running off of. As long as you’re wary of that [Canyon River Step] of theirs, these mages shouldn’t be an issue unless they swarm you.
“There’s one powerful Semblance whose magnitude rivals yours, Benessel. That must be Inneol, going by what I was able to get out of that boy Povi yesterday. But there’s something that worries me…”
“The Brands,” Benessel agreed, his expression darkening at the mention of the mysterious magic.
“Yeah,” Ai nodded. “Every single one of them has that same burnt Brand Povi and his ‘friend’ you Avnans interrogated had. He was able to empower his ability to resist your interrogation weave, but Povi wasn’t able to do anything like that—but we ought to be wary. We don’t know what else they can do, not for certain.”
“What else can you tell me of their leader? Inneol?”
“He’s not on the surface,” Ai frowned, “It feels like his Semblance is centered somewhere underground, or maybe within the stone of the canyon somehow. Caves or a tunnel system, maybe? His Brand feels… connected to the others as well, come to think of it. That doesn’t bode well.”
Lieutenant Baior shifted in his saddle, his hand resting nervously on the pommel of his sword. “If he’s as strong as Karravar Benessel, Miss Ayle…”
“We shall have to deal with him regardless. If he’s entrenched in a cave system, it will be difficult to root him out. Iorec is a Captain in the Varran Army, a man held in General Arahl Vahn’s confidence as well as my own. His primary value as a prisoner is in the intelligence he possesses; that indicates to me that our enemy Inneol would keep him close.” Benessel declared, his jaw tightening.
“Our plan remains the same,” He turned to address the entire group, his voice reaching the soldiers at the back. “We will appropriate the tactics they used against us during our transit here. I shall lead the charge with an application of [United-Charge] so that we may shatter their kinetic barriers and breach the fortress’ main gate. It is imperative that we move as one for the spell to work correctly.
“Once the gate is down, I will modulate the spell for non-lethal suppression. We are here to rescue Captain Iorec and apprehend the traitors, not to butcher a pack of misguided local malcontents. However, should you be put in a position to choose between the lives of one of your comrades or one of theirs… do not hesitate.”
He looked at Ai. “Ayle. You are the most mobile and I suspect our heaviest hitter. While we draw their attention at the gate, you will bypass their defenses. Do not engage the rank and file unless necessary. Your objective is the command tent and the caves beyond. Locate and secure Captain Iorec. And do not let this ‘Inneol’ escape. I am placing my trust in you.”
Ai considered his plan. It made sense, given what he knew of her capabilities.
“Consider it done.” She confirmed aloud.
“Sari,” Benessel nodded to his student. “You and Balala are our reserve. If the Domga charge falters, or if they bring out something unexpected, you clear the path. Until then, hold the rear and let none pass through the gates behind us.”
“Yes, Master.” Sari replied, patting Balala’s neck. The Orgawyr let out a soft hiss of anticipation.
Benessel took a deep breath, the desert air filling his lungs. He looked at Baior, then to the soldiers of Avna.
“For the Republic. For Avna. For Iorec.”
He raised a clenched fist to his forehead. Baior and the soldiers mimicked the gesture instantly, a sharp, synchronized snap of discipline.
“For Captain Iorec!” Baior growled.
Ai watched them. It was a simple gesture, but the weight of it—the shared intent, the loyalty—resonated with the world around them. It was a minor ritual in its own right, a binding of wills that subtly reinforced their collective Semblance.
She raised her own fist to her forehead a moment later. “Good hunting.”
Benessel offered her a grim smile. “It is time. If you would, Ayle.”
Ai nodded. She manipulated her [Flight] weave, adding a vector of [Vertical-Ascension]. She shot upwards, disappearing into the glare of the sun, positioning herself high above what was to become a battlefield.
Below, Benessel kicked his Domga into motion.
“Forward!”
From her vantage point two hundred meters in the air, the fortress of New Gihn looked like a scab caked onto the stone. The canyon opened up into a wide basin, a pocket of safety ensconced in the winding canyons of old Gihn.
The fortress was a semi-circular fortification built around the mouth of a natural cave system, utilizing the sheer cliff face as its rear defense. The walls were constructed of the same rust-red stone as the canyon, shaped by magic into smooth, imposing ramparts. It was a sturdy build, utilizing the natural geography to funnel attackers into a kill box right in front of the main gate.
The gate itself was a heavy slab of enchanted metal and wyrmbone, shimmering with the tell-tale distortion of a kinetic barrier.
Ai hovered, watching the dust cloud that heralded Benessel’s approach.
The roar of the charge began before they even rounded the bend. It was the pounding of earth that grew louder with every second, the sound of bestial feet impacting the ground in unison.
Benessel and his twelve riders burst into view.
They moved at full speed. A golden light enveloped the formation, blurring the individual outlines of beast and rider into a singular, rushing wedge of kinetic force.
[United-Charge]-[Force-Wall].
On the ramparts of New Gihn, shouts of alarm went up. Crossbowmen scrambled to position.
“Fire!” a voice cried out from the walls.
Crossbow bolts rained down, but they shattered harmlessly against the golden distortion surrounding Benessel’s charge. Benessel roared, a sound amplified by magic until it echoed like thunder across the basin.
“Forward!”
The riders punched their fists forward in unison.
[Honed-Point].
The wedge of golden light sharpened, focusing all of its kinetic energy into a needle-point aimed directly at the shimmering barrier in front of the gate.
CRACK.
The kinetic barrier protecting the gate shattered into shards of glistening light, exploding like broken glass before dissipating into the air. But the gate itself held. The iron-and-bone slabs groaned, buckling inward under the impact, but nonetheless remained intact.
Benessel’s formation wheeled away, their momentum spent, circling back for a second run.
“Brothers!” a defender shouted from the wall. “Release the [River]!”
Ai narrowed her eyes in [Farsight].
Twelve mages, dressed in loose-fitting desert garb, cascaded down the fortress walls like water running over stone. They moved with an impossible fluidity, their feet finding purchase even on vertical surfaces, sliding and skimming across the rock face.
[Canyon River Step].
These mages were fast and agile, much faster than the Domga-mounted attacking force. The New Gihn karra hit the canyon basin floor and kept moving, blurring toward Benessel’s reforming line wielding curved scimitars that gleamed lethal intent.
Benessel’s soldiers tried to bring their polearms to bear, but the New Gihn revolutionaries were slippery. They ducked under swings, ran up the sides of the Domga, and slashed at saddle straps and armor joints; it was a testament to the combat readiness of the Avnan soldiers that the enemy karra were unsuccessful in their alpha strike.
These were hit-and-run tactics that could be performed over and over, until their enemies were dead. The New Gihns . They weren’t trying to kill the heavy cavalry in a straight fight, but were instead trying to hamstring them until they became easy targets.
Benessel roared as he swatted a revolutionary out of the air with a blast of [Force]. The man tumbled, but rolled with the impact, springing back to his feet instantly.
“Circle up!” Benessel commanded, realizing the danger. “Don’t let them separate us!”
But the revolutionaries had gotten their taste of first blood.
They rushed Benessel and his men with a ferocious cry, swarming them like a school of piranhas.