The not-immortal Blacksmith - Interlude - The Kid III

Marching through the rain and sleet these last two weeks hasn't been fun. The mud gets everywhere, you are always cold and wet, everything starts to chafe. In order to keep most of it off the troops, during PT every morning I've had the squad mages cast warming spells on their unsuspecting comrades and holding them for as long as they can. This has been helping the troops, and has helped the mages increase their mana control.

Having to write this from memory isn't fun, as I'm sure that I will forget things. We passed through several towns and villages. Once the civilians realized we weren't going to tromp through the fields they treated us well, but still, some were better than others.

There were no bandits on the road for us to remove. Game was fairly plentiful. The civilians were more than willing to trade since we weren't threatening to just take things. They may not have gotten what things were worth, but they made a profit.

Early on, one of our wagon horses went lame; nothing incurable by stall rest, but completely useless to us; so we traded a farmer for a pair of old oxen that we were planning to butcher once we had replacement horses at the front. I will note the "were planning". Three days in, after the replacement, the oxen were out preforming the horses in endurance (no surprise to anyone from a farm) but also in SPEED! I have questions that I am sure will never be answered. We won't be butchering the oxen.

Once or twice this week I have felt like I was being watched. I am however, unsure by what or perhaps whom.

Our current camp is about a day, in good weather, from the rear lines. It will take two days to reach at our current speed of travel due to the inclement conditions. The roads are also getting worse. Signs of past struggles are everywhere.

*-*-*

One more day to the rear lines. Thank the goddess. I'm very glad Master Maxwell gave me pointers in traveling with an army. Mostly sleet today. Tonight is clear and windy. I expect things to freeze tonight.

*-*-*

Sneak attack! A segment of the demon army snuck past the lines to harass the countryside and came upon us an hour or two past midnight. Thankfully the way we set our camp, with the followers inside the pickets, kept support casualties to a minimum. Still we lost a third of 4th squad, and half of 2nd squad. Support casualties were 6, mostly due to drinking to much to be able to dodge. I may have to ration out the booze to two drafts a day. It will hurt, but it will keep this from happening again.

As predicted, the morning is cold. To cold for normal at this point in the fall season. Something is afoot. We will be leaving Second, Fourth and Eighth squads to escort the support unit, while the rest of us will make double time to reach the rear of the lines.

*-*-*

I was right to be worried. It is disgusting, what happened here. We have killed two score of undead, and mopped up a dozen or so minor demons. Headquarters is destroyed. General Graham is missing. What remains of the headquarters unit is scattered and suffering from shock. I will not describe the carnage of the hospital tent. I wish to forget that scene. We set it ablaze, a funeral pyre for the gods to see.

Master warned me that war was bad. I should have paid him more heed.

*-*-*

Support has arrived. They made good time considering the weather is ten points below freezing. We should only be having our third killing frost right now. The wind is barely starting to let up. We have taken over the remains of the headquarters buildings, and are making repairs. In the morning I will be sending out First and Tenth squads to do close recon patrols.

*-*-*

I have finally had a warm night. Early this morning, following their stomachs, several soldiers have wandered into camp. They are suffering from "the chilling disease" (what I call hypothermia) and severe frostbite.

First and Tenth are out on recon duty as well as "Search and Rescue". Everyone else is scavenging for firewood and coal/charcoal. I have concerns.

*-*-*

First and Tenth have returned with half dead soldiers and support. I am intentionally NOT asking if anyone deserted. Master told me stories of Knights turning tail, while squires held their ground with broken spears. War is terrible, and I will not judge.

*-*-*

It has been two days of close in scouting. Our numbers have spiked to almost 400. We will run out of supplies in two weeks if we do not get relief. We have retrieved some random supplies from old abandoned camps. The extreme cold has continued. It is "Our Tauntauns will freeze before we reach the first marker" cold. Fire magic is making things livable.

Tomorrow I will send out half our combat worthy units to search out the enemy.

In news of the odd, a "very fluffy" mountain goat has taken up residence with the animals in the corral.

*-*-*

The troops have been sent out.

A pair of lady adventurers have come into camp, and have offered their help. I am grateful.

More news on the goat: one of the cooks was injured trying to catch the goat for tonight's dinner. The cook is resting quietly with a broken leg and a few bruises. The goat in unharmed.

*-*-*

News has just reached me via courier, turns out we are the front line. We need a better means of communications. I would sell my left kidney for a pair of radios or a telephone.

The scouts have returned. The enemy camp is about 3 miles northeast of us. The ground is frozen and full of sharp fields of ice. I will spend most of the remainder of today trying to come up with a plan of attack.

I have sent the courier back with a status report and a request for supplies.

*-*-*

What is wrong with that fucking Goat?!? This morning it was found herding a pair of cows and a small flock of chickens into the corral. I can't believe I'm doing this, but I have issued orders that the Goat is not to be molested.

I have called a meeting of the corporals, and other command staff that hasn't headed to the rear for treatment. I am surprised that the couple of nobles and lieutenants that have stayed haven't tried to take command from me. As far as they know, I'm only 13 after all.

The Goat is on the roof of the command center. What the hell?

*-*-*

The meeting is over. Everyone knows their place in the battle order. No one objected to the plan, not even the adventurers who snuck in. Tomorrow we are the spear, and the tip.