Company unknown, p.1
Company Unknown, page 1
Company Unknown
M. Helbig
Contents
1. Beware: Falling Monsters
2. The Spoils of War
3. Marching to a Different Beat
4. Mother Knows Best
5. So . . . Bye
6. Company of the Unknown
7. I’m Both Dumber and Smarter Than a Kobold
8. Don’t Worry. It’s Only a Little One
9. Swap Meet
10. Where Is She?
11. It CAN Be Worse
12. Stress Relief with Deadly Objects
13. Technically Anything Can Be a Reward
14. I Think I Didn’t See Something This Way
15. The Opposite of Up
16. Hammers to Skulls Make the Best Music
17. Bird Talk
18. Picking Things That Aren’t Noses
19. Rat-a-Tat-Splat
20. Why Aren’t Monster Bathhouses a Thing?
21. All right. Fine. I Cave
22. Where’d All My Money Go?
23. Mission Improbable
24. Frisky Kitty
25. Am I Dead?
26. Family Matters . . . No Really, It Does
27. Way Too Many Sisters
28. Breaking Down Walls
29. That Summer When I Didn’t Join That Cult
30. Putting Points in Things You Won’t Get Arrested For
31. Interlude with a Specter
32. Bring Lots of Eye Drops or a Really Big Sword
33. You Do Not Want to Know Why He’s Sticky
34. Tiny Eyes, Big Ears, and Giant Problems
35. Now with Rending Action!
36. Never a Pirate, Always a Champion
37. Boooooom!
38. Royal Pain
39. After-Math
40. Someone Worse at Their Job Than Me
41. I Can Fly!
42. Getting Dressed
43. She’s Cute, So I Didn’t Ask
44. Don’t Go into the Light!
45. The Big Blue Problem
46. Mother’s Day
47. There Is Always a But
48. Who Are You?
49. Girl Fight!
50. Oh, Good. The Story of How I Was Conceived
51. Take One for the Team (But Not Like That, You Dirty Boy)
52. Not Enough Riffraff
53. Epic-logue
Character Sheet
Copyright © 2021 by M. Helbig
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, August 2021
www.mhelbig.com
Beware: Falling Monsters
Block. Smash. Block. Smash. Repeat.
Those simple directions had been beaten into me since before I could walk—or rather the more accurate and less catchy, “Brace for impact, accept hit, counterattack, and repeat.”
Boring? Oh gods, yes. But the results were the fun part. Well, the attacking part. I liked the attacking part. The screams of my enemies as I put new and unwanted holes in them. The feel of breaking bones. The fun of watching them run when they realized my awesomeness. The glee from ending their lives with a well-placed blow to the back of their skulls . . . What? Don’t look at me that way. They wanted to do the same thing. I was just better at it.
Now that I was squad leader, I didn’t get to do too much of that anymore; I only got to watch that part and make sure the morons in my charge didn’t screw up too badly. Oh, look, the battle just turned exciting. Ha-ha. Now stand still and watch. Time to be responsible, young man.
The deep, roaring screams of the part bear, part ape, part human monstrosity called a yeren reinforced that the plan both worked and was being implemented properly. I would have called it an odd combination of exciting and terrifying, but from back here it was kind of boring. Being promoted to squad leader was supposed to be a real step up in the world. It had turned out to be a step back. Far to the back with the new recruits who hadn’t even memorized our basic motto of the line—and the near endless list of other mottos that all members of our mercenary company were forced to learn. To reinforce my point, a spear plopped in the ground to my left.
The troll gave me an apologetic look, though that did not stop him from picking his nose. “Me be sorries, boss.”
“Inner nostril hygiene is still not a thing,” Ugly Jim said to my left.
“Do yours next and be proving you wrong, pointy ears.”
I figured now was a good time to break them up. A little jabbering does wonders for the nerves, but too much leads to mistakes. I did something I promised I wouldn’t do anymore and gave the troll a swift kick. If I wasn’t going to get to hit the enemy, I had to hit something, right?
Whatever. It worked; his spear was in his hands in record time. His back wasn’t quite as straight when he stood back up, but the way he was wincing made me decide not to correct him. The important part of being a squad leader was to know when to be fierce and when to be relaxed. It was one of the first things my mom taught me after promoting me.
My sergeant, Metric, didn’t correct me like I’d told her to when I did something like this, but like all of her birdlike race, known as tepu, she didn’t grasp most social cues. They learned those things from observation and often badly. Still wasn’t sure why Mom had assigned me the tepu instead of someone normal like Lion or Brass, but she always had a good reason.
Not that Metric was all bad; she was good at training and maintaining order. Her eyesight was also impeccable. Case in point, her small hand talon was already pointing before the bellow came from somewhere ahead.
The troll’s spine was as straight as a flagpole, his spear at a perfect forty-five-degree angle. The rest of our front line matched him, with one exception. That would be me, but as squad leader I had other concerns. My eyes were on the real front line, twenty feet ahead.
“Grwwww!” a deep voice bellowed across the canyon.
“Grwwww!” came a response from the yeren in front.
The Crew did not respond with words. The Crew responded with steel.
The fifteen-foot-tall, two-ton piles of muscle and hair were incredibly dangerous due to their ability to leap great distances in the air and slam down where you least expected them. However, once you got them on the ground, they were fairly easy to handle. We had tactics and strategies for nearly every type of monster there was.
Case in point, the other squads surrounded the beast, waited for its long, sweeping blows to be absorbed into their massive shields, and then stabbed it with their weapon of choice. Our damage wasn’t much, but that wasn’t the point. Each of our front-line tanks had the Provoke skill active and that kept the beast firmly focused on them—and not leaping to who knows where, and especially not into the second line where our archers and casters were. They were where most of our damage came from.
My squad, however, was in neither of those lines. We were the reserves. Which usually meant we got the “exciting” job of watching and not getting any experience points. Though with a second yeren entering the battlefield, that might have just changed.
I summoned my magic and clapped my hands together. A small, disembodied eye appeared, and I guided it upward. As it got about ten feet above, I switched my vision to its vantage point. Tiny Eye was the level-one spell you got when you learned Holy Magic, probably so apprentice wizards could practice and not hurt anyone. Still, it was the one I probably used the most. Nothing more valuable on a battlefield than being able to see everything that’s going on.
While I guided the floating eyeball above our lines and around the first yeren, a quick realization hit me.
“Squad eight, form for battle,” I said.
“I thinking we already beeees in the formation for battling,” the troll said.
Metric slapped the back of his shin with the side of her zweihander, ostensibly to get him into a tighter position, though mostly just to shut him up. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad at all. Unfortunately, the next voice that came wasn’t one she could do too much about.
“What’d ya think yer babbling about,” the dwarf in the squad ahead yelled. “Me lads and lasses have this here beastie locked up fine.”
I was saved from answering Twinkle when the second yeren landed in between us. As satisfying as it was to hear his yelp, I hoped it wasn’t his last one. He was as good at his job as he was at getting drunk and pissing in inappropriate places. Dirty shoes are temporary; death tends to be a tad more permanent—or at least is more expensive to fix.
I gave the order to attack, but the front line of my squad was already on it. The second yeren bellowed as its first blows struck. The first few rounds were always the tensest. The power of Provoke magnified the anger a strike would generate, but with our defensive style of fighting, our blows didn’t usually generate much. Case in point, the other yeren had leapt three times before one of the squads had managed to get it to focus on them. Thankfully, this time someone got its attention immediately.
The floating pile of armor that was Lex took a fist nearly as big as she was against her shield. It was no surprise that she got its attention first, as she was our highest level and had by far the most skills. The large shields that were our hallmark could absorb a ton of damage, but not a blow that size. She was also the perfect target for another r
As expected, she didn’t even have to worry about that. The plan called for her to stop attacking immediately, which is what she did. The rest of the line landed a third set of blows and the yeren focused on another member, this time a ghoul. Though it was supposed to be my job, Metric cast a heal on Lex. It was a good call, as I had been too focused on watching.
Life had been so much simpler when I was a common soldier. Paying attention to heals and leading were sometimes too much for me. The other squad leaders had told me it would get easier eventually, but I wasn’t sure.
Unfortunately, considering that the second victim of a blow was a ghoul, Metric had to heal her as well. Unlike nearly every other race, ghouls needed the Dark Magic skill to heal, which I did not possess. Metric was the squad’s primary healer, but I had decided to do the first few rounds. I wanted to save her mana for later, when I would probably be needed as a leader most.
The next blow landed on Butters, and then on the wood elf twins, Dink and Dank. As its attention returned to Lex, I gave the order everyone was hoping for.
“DPS, open up,” I said. “And slowly this time, Buttons.”
“You’re right as always, sir,” a squeaky, energetic voice came from far to my left.
“What level do we get that spell?” Dank asked in his high-pitched, melodic voice.
A small amount of blue energy pooled in Buttons’ hands. “What spell is that?”
“Why, the one that lets you lick Mer’s boots all the way through the rest of the squad,” Dank replied. “Trans-Dimensional Boot Suck!”
“Ha! Don’t forget the upgrade, Spectral Butt Kiss.” The twins’ laughter sounded like someone was strangling a bagpipe.
“How many spells do you two know, by the way?” I asked casually.
Their laughter stopped.
“I’ll take that silence to mean none. And weapons skills?”
“Is at bottom of category too,” Metric said.
“Sergeant, do you have some spare time to teach these two the finer points of spear and spell?”
Metric’s long, thin beak clacked open twice, her race’s sign of excitement. “Can find five hours.”
“As long as they can cast that . . . What was that spell called, Dink?”
“Trans-Dimensional Boot Suck, sir.” The music in the wood elf’s voice sounded more like a funeral march.
“Yes, as long as they can cast that by the end of the week, you can cut the extra training down by an hour. I’m feeling generous.”
“Will do.” Metric saluted me.
Grins and snickers emerged from every remaining mouth . . . except for Lex. The specter didn’t have a visible mouth, but I’m sure if she had I would have seen a grin. It was times like this that I loved being in charge. The other twenty-nine hours and fifty-nine minutes a day, not so much.
My mirth was short lived. Though our tanks had managed to perfectly get the beast to switch targets on every blow so far, it suddenly spun around. While its backside did make a perfect target for our DPS to unload on, it also meant it had now focused on their counterparts in the other squads. We kept the DPS in the back line for a reason.
“Umm, Buttons and Metric, light show.” I flipped to my floating-eye-o-vision. “Aim at eye level.”
“Eye level or at the eyes themselves, sir?” Buttons asked.
“The eyes,” I said. “We need to distract it to give whoever got its attention some time to, well, not have its attention.”
The quaterling’s smile somehow grew bigger at the order. Metric didn’t bother wasting the time to acknowledge me; the multi-colored lights of her spell had already obscured her talons.
“Good job,” I said. “Ugly Jim, arrow storm, please.”
The far-from-ugly elf seethed. He did not like any order that might cause him to actually miss. Rain of Arrows put a lot of shafts into the air at once, at a significant price for accuracy and damage per hit. But hitting wasn’t our primary goal. I’d learned from way too much personal experience how hard it was to focus on much of anything else when dozens of arrows were falling all around you, even if they weren’t connecting.
As the dazzling array of colors merged with the descending swarm of feathered shafts, the yeren stopped mid swing and brought up his massive hands to try to deflect the mess in front of his oddly small eyes. I caught a strand of magic out of the corner of my vision to the right and turned. Ruby and two from her squad had joined in as well. Was she trying to steal credit or genuinely help out? A problem for later.
The beast spun back around. One problem down. Now for the next one.
Obviously, the thing was not too happy with whoever had caused his new eye pains. That person wasn’t one of Twinkle’s DPS anymore, but mine was another story. We had a plan for this . . . which was . . . oh!
Before the words could escape my mouth, Lex’s flail glowed brightly and then buried itself into a meaty toe. I was about to put her down for a commendation when the words that had left Metric’s beak seconds before finally registered. My sergeant had saved my bacon again. Time for me to make up for it.
“Cut the lights and hold fire, DPS,” I said. Our counterparts in Ruby’s squad followed a few seconds later.
“Thank the gods,” Ugly Jim said, probably a bit louder than he’d intended.
This time I did get a heal in on Lex. Using the more potent level-three version of Provoke meant she’d need it. No one else in my inexperienced squad had the skill up that high. It took another four swings of their weapons before our troll got the beast’s attention off her. By the time I felt safe to order our DPS back in, the sound of weapons impacting on the beast from the opposite side rang through the air. Ruby had naturally ordered hers in a few seconds earlier. I sighed. She always had to beat me to everything.
“The kill shot will be mine this time, Ugly Jim,” Buttons said as his Lightning Bolt slammed into the beast’s chest. Though it roared in the quaterling’s direction, its fist landed on one of the tanks.
The elf’s golden eyebrow arched at the challenge. “Unlikely.”
His arrow landed directly in the yeren’s left eye. I’d call the shot perfect, though the high elf would likely disagree. It had landed in the white part instead of dead center in the pupil. It still caused the yeren to release a panicked roar and swing its arms uncontrollably.
At a nod from me, Metric abandoned her duty as healer and joined in with her huge sword. I pulled out the more mundane bow that I’d taken from the company equipment bag. I still didn’t have a good weapon of my own, but one of these days I’d earn one as a reward. That was getting less and less likely now that most of my time was absorbed making sure no one under my care died, but maybe I’d get lucky?
Today was not that day. Ruby of all people landed the final blow. Whoever got the kill shot was always the most likely to get a special commendation and thus a reward from whatever equipment the beast had on it. There were of course other ways to get a reward, but that was the surest one.
Unlike most squad leaders, she stayed in a tank spot instead of in the back line where you could survey the battle more easily and give orders without the distraction of constantly swinging your weapon and getting hit. She said it was to inspire her squad’s confidence by showing them she would share in their hardship and pain. It may have worked on her squad, but the rest of us knew it was because tanks typically gained more experience. (Even though it wasn’t a lot, you had the chance to gain an experience point every time you used a skill, and doubly so in combat. And since tanks used their skills constantly, they tended to gain those bonus points quite a bit.)
