Dogs of War - Ivesk

For a brief moment, the veteran actually drops the usual calm and collected demeanor, instead staring at the sight. That's... downright ridiculous. He's seen quite a few odd methods the Kromsians have tried, but... really?


The shock only lasts a short time, of course. There are more important things to focus on... like bringing the box back in. The Vampire will probably try to pick them off, based on how it fled after finishing Quinn off... though it might've just wanted her dead in the first place. Hard to tell.


It's never an easy choice, leaving the bodies behind while knowing what the bastards do to them... but it's far too risky to have to drop them every time they're attacked. In situations like these, reacting just a split second too late might result in losing a limb. Or worse. As such, with a hint of regret in his voice, the Major gives a quick order to initiate the tactical withdrawal.


At least the closer they get, the better the coverage from the walls.
 
The fallback goes without too much trouble, and one of the spotters reports that the Vampires are backing away, the big one providing cover for the little one.


Soon you, your troops, and the box are safely within the walls. No local losses. Good.


There's Quill cipher written on one side of the heavy, steel-reinforced oak box. Ketcher should be able to read it.
 
As usual for him, the first thing Ivesk does is making sure all the men are at least mostly alright. The scratches might be infected with some Kromsian filth, for all they know. After that... the box. That is to say, bringing it to Ketcher. Personally, in fact - the Major would have to lie his face off if he was to claim he wasn't curious about it. For all the trouble they went through - and the urgency with which Quinn told them it must be taken away from the Kromsians - it has to be something big.
 
Thankfully, Ketcher doubles as surgeon. He'll want those men looked at as much as you.


Fortunately no one seems terribly shaken.


Down in the tunnels under the fort is Ketcher's surgery - three rooms given over to his supplies, his operating theatre, his dissection table, and a fourth, sealed chamber on Quill demand.


"Ah, sir." Ketcher greets you, emerging from his dissection lab and locking the door, bloodstained apron and visor covering his uniform. He pauses at the sight of the box and the men.


"Uhm... is that for me?" You can't read his expression behind the visor.
 
"Yes. We've had a Vampire encounter in the trenches. Mostly shallow cuts, but..." He didn't need to finish. Ketcher knows better than anyone here that Kromsians have all sorts of nasty tricks.


"As for the box" he taps the side of the container "We don't know what's inside, but given the rangers died trying to protect it, it must be important. And there's a cipher on it."
 
"Hmm." He wipes his hands and takes off the apron, presumably appraising the troops.


"No nausea? Burning? Shortness of breath?"


A chorus of 'no', followed by 'I do really want a smoke....' and a smattering of laughter.


"Well, get out of uniform and I'll examine you shortly. Clemens knows enough by now to check for toxins - someone fetch him. A stalker was hurled over the walls and managed to tag a few troops, too, and they're likewise showing none of the usual symptoms. Having just dissected it, I can say I found nothong on the claws, but one can never be too careful. As for this..."


He stops for a moment to examine the cipher. He lifts his mask and reads again, incredulous.


"This... needs to be in the sealed laboratory immediately."


Clemens arrives in time to be pressed into service moving the box into the backrooms, out of sight. Only he returns.


"The Magister-Captain wanted to examine the... contents. I'd better check everyone for poison..." He says, going about his business.
 
Of course he would. Well, Ivesk knows better than to barge in on such secretive business... but he IS damned curious about it. As such, he approaches the backroom's doors.


"What did the rangers give their lives for, then?" Hopefully it's not too secret for at least a brief overview. With how much of a mess it almost turned into, the least they deserve is a confirmation it's as big of a deal as it seems. Well, Ketcher's reaction was a dead giveaway, but not very specific.
 
"I'll probably have to show you soon, sir," Ketcher calls back. "But I need to examine it first."
 
The veteran nods, even though Ketcher can't really see him, what with closed doors and all. "Very well. You know where to find me." Everyone does. There are only a handful of places the man has much reason to be in, after all. For now, the place he should be in is his office - there are a few papers left to sort through. After that, perhaps a bit of supervision on the training. Or maybe even participation.


As he walks off, he still can't quite stop wondering about what the box could house. The fact he'll find out soon doesn't quite help. In fact, anticipation of an answer is in a few ways worse than mere curiosity.
 
An hour passes in sorting the paperwork, and then you stroll out to the yard. The men were given a clean bill of health, incidentally, and now many of them spar and practice as you arrive to supervise - ten pairs of troops, presently practicing with their sidearms; the short swords.
 
Ivesk spends some time merely watching the practice, perhaps giving a few pointers for the newer soldiers, patiently correcting mistakes. Eventually, he decides to join in - his veteran status and rank are hardly a reason to let his skills rust. Quite the opposite, really. And what better way to make sure you're still in good enough shape than sparring with someone in their prime?
 
You happen to select a youthful Sergeant named Veska, who tosses you a practice sword and takes position.


"Good day for it, sir," she says, with a slight smile. Business, but not all business.
 
"That it is." he agrees with a half-smile as he grabs the weapon and gives it a quick test swing, then moves into position. It's always good to see the soldiers remain in a relatively good mood after an incident.


It's even better to see you're not out of it yet. Hopefully that's true as well.
 



  • Veska gets right to it - the Kromsian's don't wait for you to be ready, you know that well. She opens with a quick, efficient stab at your gut.


 
The Major expected a swift attack, but even knowing that he has a small measure of difficulty in keeping up with the Sergeant. Well, no matter. As long as he manages to stop the blow, then makes the next attack count, it should be fine.


[dice]1312[/dice]
 
You manage to deflect the blow off to one side - it does graze your hip, but it'll barely leave a bruise. Your move...
 
And forth he lunges, replying to the stab with one of his own. He might move slower, but he's been doing this for decades. That's got to count.


[dice]1313[/dice]
 



  • It's a damn good blow, and if she didn't have that quickness you'd've gutted her. Well, with a real sword.


    As it is you end up cracking her across the elbow and forcing her back a little. She turns the motion into a feint and comes back in with a confident rising cut to the throat.


 
As before, Ivesk is attempting to strike the balance between offence and defence, disregarding the fact the opponent is quicker. It's not arrogance, not really. When dealing with Vampires, you always need to keep yourself from going too far on the defense - after all, it means nothing if you never strike your opponent.


[dice]1315[/dice]
 
Another close shave - her wooden practice sword almost touches your cheek as it passes by and certainly catches you near the ribs. Not hard enough, though. Not close enough.
 
Close calls seem to be the name of the game. And yet none of them close enough to truly matter... for now. Attempting to change that, the officer steps forward and delivers a downward swing. Hopefully the lack of finesse will catch Veska off-guard... but maybe not.


[dice]1316[/dice]
 
She evades your attack with almost embarrassing ease, and follows up with a deadly-looking horizontal swipe.
 
Well, this doesn't look good. And it's fast enough only a more desperate block might have a chance...


[dice]1317[/dice]
 
You misjudge the range and end up taking the blow full-force on your right elbow. That's going to ache for hours - maybe even a couple of days. She sees you wince and steps back a pace.


"Reckon you'd be down, if that were a real weapon, sir."

That's 2 Condition damage. Your attack. She has let her guard down...
 
It's tempting to attack, but she is right. If that was a real hit, with a proper weapon, he'd have lost the forearm. With the sword, no less. And against Kromsians, that'd be a death sentence.


"So I would. Good show, Sergeant." he says with a smile before wincing again. Oh, this will definitely haunt him for some time...


He can almost hear the hated part of his mind start blaming it on his age, but he pays it no heed. That attack was good enough to take down younger men than him, and just as skilled.


...still, can't really keep on sparring with a bruise like that. Moving the arm quickly will be torture for the next few hours. Back to observing, it seems.
 
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