The Story of Al

[Al]

Chapter the First

War.

Rumours of War.

Always rumours. You never know if they are true or no, thought the Dwarf as he packed his bag. This time it sounded serious though.

Rumours had reached Bor that Sommerland was about to go to war, that the Kai were gathering and that peasants were being conscripted.

How many times have I heard this rumour, thought Al? Too many. But something about this one hit a nerve. Something sounded true.

Screams. Fire shooting across the night sky and dwarflings crying. Dwarfs running. The sound of handguns filling the night as arrows fell around him.

Besides, he thought. It is not like I have anything here in Bor anymore. Not since I have given up my commission in the Royal Army of Bor. I thought I could make a go of the family business, but how could I with no family? I thought the Army could replace my family, but I was wrong, nothing could. All I have now is Vengeance.

“Is that nae right boy” He said, looking down at the dog at his feet, “Vengeance is all I care about.” He said, chuckling to himself. What a good dog he is, he though, and loyal too. He just recently purchased Vengeance, from a High Sage of Lyrius. At the time he thought it was funny that a man dedicated to knowledge would be interested in breeding dogs, but then he thought that even the high and wise have hobbies.

“Maybe I need a hobby tae, what dae ya think Vengeance?” But Vengeance just looked up at him and wagged his tail. He leaned over and petted the dog behind his ears.

A lot of Dwarfs thought him odd, his strange fascination with humans. Most expected him to hate humans after what had happened to him and his family, but he did not. When asked, he tried to explain. Yes, it was humans that slaughtered his family, but it was also humans that saved him, nursed him back to health, and, while they were unable to save his family, it was a human that enabled his father to die like the dwarf warrior he was, not like a slave.

He could hear them now, the voices of the humans as they broke the lines the dwarfs had made to defend the caravan. It was a strange tongue, one he did not know. He raised his axe, ready to stand next to the adult dwarfs and defend them.

So he was going to go the human lands, and see what was going on there. War always brought out extremes in humans. It could bring out the worst in men, or the best. Unfortunately, it was the best that would go to war, and the worst that would remain behind. With the generals and princes thinking of the war, little thought would be directed to those who stayed behind. To those too old or too weak to fight, the women and the children. The princes and the Generals did not think of them, but the bandits did. With the menfolk at war, they were easy pickings.

He did not hate humans, but he hated bandits. Creature (he could not think of them as human) who lived off of the hard work of others, who preyed on the innocent and helpless. Oh how he hated them, and while he may be too late to join the campaign, he was damned if he would let bandits prey on the weak. And besides, with bandits converging in those territories, might he have a chance for vengeance?

He loaded the last of his equipment on his pony, and tightened his vest. He had spent the last week preparing for this journey. His rifle and hand gun were immaculate. The edges on his axe and short sword razor sharp. His Bronin vest (a gift from a human, a Kai Grand Master no less) was immaculately polished.

He finished his packing, double checking that all was good. He said a silent prayer to his ancestors, and closed the door behind him.

With a purpose that was different from most bandits, a small group of them went for old Steelgrip Ironforge, the gunsmith and owner of the caravan. While the rest of the Dwarfs were engaged in bloody hand to hand fighting with the bandits, a few bandits had broken away from the main group and approached Steelgrip. Three engaged him in hand to hand combat, while a fourth snuck up behind him. He killed two of them before the fourth threw a net over him. Once they had him secure, the other bandits fell back.

Then it was as if all the demons of hell broke loose around them. Then darkness.

“Come Vengeance, it is at least twelve hours journey to where we are meeting the merchant caravan”

He was going to accompany a merchant caravan part of the way to Sommerland. When he approached the human trader to ask if he could accompany him, the trader was overjoyed. It was not every day that a former Rifle Commander in the Royal Army of Bor was going to accompany him.

After twelve hours of travel, he arrived at the point where he was going to meet the merchant, and found his caravan there. It consisted of three wagons, plus the merchants personal carriage, and about a dozen or so hired security. There was no sign of the merchant himself when he arrived, but the Dwarf was approached by a man wearing the colours of the merchant.

“Ahh, Master Dwarf, my Master has told me to wait for you here, and he is most pleased to have you, he asks that you meet with him in his personal carriage, but before you go, I need to take some information from you for our records, insurance purposes you know.

“May I first have your name in full?”

After a moments hesitation he replied; “Bon-Al Ironforge, son of Steelgrip, but now I go by Al.”

[Al]

Chapter the Second

Not a cloud in the sky thought the Dwarf as he lay on his back looking at the sky.

It was only then that he realized that he did not know where he was or how he had gotten there. He tried to get up but pain shot through his body and he let out a moan of pain.

“Finally awake master dwarf?” said a voice to his right. He turned his head to see a human in a green cloak crouched over a small, smokeless fire. “I thought you would be unconscious for a lot longer, but you Dwarfs are a resilient lot”

Not a cloud in the sky thought the Dwarf as he lay on his back looking at the sky.

“You gonna stare at the sky or are you going to look for where those cross-bow bolts came from” called one of the guards to him.

“That’s what ah’m doing” he replied as he took out his mirror and held it over his head to look over the burm he was hiding behind.

The convoy had left Bor going northward with little fanfare. Al was impressed with the discipline of the guards, and the youthfulness of the merchant. Must be an expensive shipment, whatever it is, he originally thought, but it is odd to trust it to a merchant so young.

Expensive indeed. This was the third attack that the caravan had suffered since starting out. At first the Dwarf thought it was just brigands, and they were disposed of with ease by the guards and his expert shooting. The next attack came at night, and again was dealt with easy enough, although the professionalism of the guards made the dwarf wonder exactly what was going on.

When confronted by the dwarf, the merchant owned up.

He was not a merchant. Rather, he was an envoy from Lyris.

And this was not a merchant shipment; rather it was a military shipment. Arrowheads. Bor arrowheads; stronger than anything produced by humans, capable of piercing the strongest armour. Someone in Lyris was raising a regiment of archers to send north to Sommerland to aid in their defence, and they were arming them accordingly.

This attack, though, was no brigand attack. It was obvious now that the first two attacks were to probe their defences, to determine their weaknesses. Now professional soldiers, he could not tell from where, had set up a good ambush. They where positioned on hills on either side of the road, in defended positions with cross-bows raining bolts around them. The soldiers knew instinctively what to do. The convoy had pulled around itself to form an all round defensive position with the soldiers and animals in the middle, behind the wagons, using them as defence.

Al and two other soldiers where caught scouting ahead of the convoy. They where currently on their bellies behind some low burms beside the road, as the soldiers and the attackers exchanged fire.

“I have a plan” said Al. “What I need is for you to create a diversion, and then I can flank them to that other hill over there. From there, I should be able to take a position that I can engage them with my rifle.” They will be caught in a cross fire.

“Is that hill not too far?” Asked the soldier.

Al just chuckled to himself, “not for me its not.”

The soldier just looked at Al and instinctively knew what to do. “On the count of three then” he said.

One. Two. Three. He stood up and bolted to the next burm, drawing both the fire of the attackers, and their attention. Without missing a beat, or checking to see if he was shot, Al leaped into the woods beside the burm, and started to slowly make his way through the trees.

The Kai Lord slowly moved through the trees, so the Dwarf could keep up with him. Finally, they reached their destination. It was a break in the trees overlooking an old and abandoned hill fort.

“It was here they took your father” said the Kai Lord. By the time I reached him, my own powers of healing where insufficient to save him. All I could do was ease his pain, and give his some Alether to allow him to die fighting, as opposed to in shackles.”

“Did he?” Demanded the Dwarf.

“Yes, by the time I left the encampment, he was a holy terror to behold. Axe in one hand, short sword in the other. He fought with the determination that only those who knew it was their time could fight with.

“Many bandits died that day.

“And he wanted you to have this” he said as he handed over a finely crafted Bor Handgun. “The bandits had ruined the rest of the weapons, but somehow this escaped them.”

With his father’s Handgun in one hand, and his short sword in the other, Al crept along to the hill. Slowly taking position, he lowered himself to the ground and unslung his rifle. He could see them now. Lying in the prone position behind the hills, they had the convoy in a nice crossfire, and they had them just where they wanted them. They only forgot one thing. Their flanks.

After the massacre of his family, the young dwarf returned to Bor to take up his family’s tradition as a Bor Gunner. Quickly rising through the ranks, he soon made a name for himself with his knowledge and abilities. Within a short span of time he found himself teaching at the Imperial War College of Bor, specializing in small group tactics. His favourite subject? Ambush and counter ambush drills.

“Remember class; always have your cut-off teams deployed to your flanks. They have a two fold purpose. Firstly, if anyone escapes from your ambush, they will be able to take them out, and secondly, they guard your flanks against any unwanted surprises.”

I have a nice surprise for you, thought Al as he scanned the enemy position, trying to determine who there leader could be. He saw him. A Drakkar. Interesting, he thought as he lined the creature up in his sights. Obviously this shipment has attracted the interests of someone. With a subtle movement of his trigger finger, a loud crack filled the air and the Drakkar fell to the ground, his head an expanding cloud of pink mist.

Immediately, the ranks of the enemy began to break, with military precision the defenders insider the convoy launched a counter attack. Half of them providing covering fire from their bows, the other half charging on their steeds, and Al using his sharpshooter ability to pick them off, one by one. There was also an unexpected addition. Magic. The lines of the enemy soon broke, giving the horsemen time to take them out one by one.

Al approached the convoy, and the envoy of Lyrus.

“Alright, I think that I am owed an explanation for saving your sorry asses.”

“Indeed, Gunner Commander, I think that you are.”

“I work for a Lyrian Scribe by the name of Trest, he is helping raise a regiment of Lyrian archers to march north to aid in the relief of the siege of Toran.”

“Toran is under siege?”

“War is upon Sommerland, Master Dwarf, and we are doing all we can to stop the forces of evil.”