IWUAaDNW: Exploit 4.3, 4.9

Tyr spoke up after a moment of silence. He’d been politely waiting his turn in front of my crude scribbles of army formations and walled cities.

“If I’m not wrong, you’re asking about tactics and fortifications?” he asked my ant.

[...]

I nodded at Tyr with my ant.

“I’d say we’ve got it handled, but you’re thinking more about yourself, aren’t you,” he said, and I nodded again. He grimaced. “I can teach you common tactics used by the different armies around here and what to do against them, but it’s not going to be easy. Or short. And with Garlynn gone, I’ve already got a lot to work on.”

“Your workload is nothing Garmin cannot handle, and you do have some competent underlings,” Kamella nosed in. “You could use this opportunity to give Cirys the same lessons; if he wants to walk in your footsteps, then he needs to know all this as well.”

Tyr grimaced, thought about it for a moment, then sighed with a dark look at Kamella, who smiled back beatifically. Eira covered her mouth with her hand and coughed suspiciously mirthfully.

“Fine,” he said with another sigh. “You’re not wrong there.” To my ant, he added, “As far as fortifications are concerned, Hrog is your man. He might not look like much, but get him to look over your plans and I’m sure he’ll have some insightful suggestions to offer. He used to be an engineer in the Khannite imperial forces. He knows more about fortifications than pretty much everyone in Central, I presume.”

—Exploit 4.3



“Taylor, this is Hrog. He used to be the chief war architect for a Khannite horde, which makes him as good an expert on fortification as we have.”

“A––ah, though I mostly do a––architecture, these days,” Hrog replied. “Y..Ulfric said you were––ah… preparing your second floor?”

I made my wasp nod.

“Then––ah, how much do you know about strategy? War games? Or… ah…. War in general?”

To be honest? Nothing.

I knew nothing about war. I’d fought plenty before, participated in grand battles with monsters none of these people could understand… but I had never done anything that approximated fighting human armies. A villain was a thug with powers. A hero was a cop with powers. Neither were soldiers. Even the final battle against Scion couldn’t be described as a war.

I touched the word ‘no’ on the word wall. Hrog’s face fell. “Ah––then, that’s… unfortunate. I––I mean, I didn’t mean to say you should––war is terrible, and nobody should––anyone should consider themselves blessed not to––ah…”

Ulfric rolled his eyes. “I think she knows what you meant, Hrog.”

I didn’t know war, but my world had been mostly destroyed by a giant slug alien disguised as a golden god, and now I was stuck as a glowing magic 8-ball and preparing to defend myself against armies I couldn’t escape from. I didn’t exactly consider myself blessed, really.

Hrog stammered some more apologies. The sounds drew the attention of Karjn, who stepped out of the communication tent to listen in. Maryll also made her way over, though she did her best to stay out of sight to avoid getting shooed away.

Hrog then said, “L…Let’s, uh, let’s start with, f––forces and d––doctrines. Uh…” he fished into his pockets and pulled out a small bag, which contained a colorful set of round disks with numbers written on them, a bit like poker chips. “Ah… these will do, I guess.” Then he glanced at the grass beneath his feet, looked left and right and asked, “Does anyone have something like a table, or a flat surface of some kind?”

I did. I made my wasp nod and had my bugs ferry a wax slab out. When it got there, carried by a beetle and a few spiders keeping it stabilized on the lazy bug’s shell, Hrog inspected it and found it acceptable while Ulfric shook his head in amused disbelief.

[...]

What followed was an initial lesson on local tactics. Hrog declared himself as “an amateur” as far as tactics and strategy were concerned, but he at least knew enough to teach me how the locals waged war.

“I’ll, uh, start with the Khannites, since––ah, since I was a part of their army so I… ah… I know them b––better,” he grabbed a handful of tokens, selected four green ones and a beige one, which he put in a diamond pattern on the slab. The beige one was in the middle.

“Ah––so, the––the Khannite main unit is… uh… these five-man sq––squad. F…four men, and o––one squad l–leader. They do e––everything together. The saying is that if y…you have to pick between your family and y––your squad, the only o…the only option is your squad b––because they are your family. Each squad follows the orders of the Khan they’ve picked.”

“Basically,” Ulfric grunted, “The first thing Khannite soldiers do is pick who their commander––their Khan––will be, and most make their pick based on how skilled and famous the Khan is. Service is five years, after which the entire squad gets a choice whether to leave or stay. Most stay, since army life is pretty cozy compared to other options. A lot of squads also double as adventuring groups, so when you’re adventuring out in the Khans, you end up stumbling on them all the time, strutting around like cockatrices while wearing their Khan’s colors. Since it’s a good way for squads to gain strength and increases the Khan’s prestige, most allow it. The only thing that’s not allowed is desertion; if one man in the squad deserts, then the entire squad will be executed.”

“Just so you know,” Karjn cut in, “Central’s forces follow the same philosophy of the tightly-knit five-man unit, though ours are more disciplined. Also, out in the Khans, they don’t work for their Khan, they belong to their Khan. Execution for trying to run is a normal punishment for slaves in Khannite lands. They’ve got this thing about personnel ownership, I mean.”

Hrog’s face clouded.

That was how he’d lost his wife, I remembered. Ulfric had probably done his best to avoid the topic.

I patted on his shoulder with my wasp’s antenna. He made an alarmed squeak as he startled and fell backward, tripping on the slab.

“Ah! Ah… uh, right.” He shook his head and forced a smile. “Right. Let’s… uh… get back to it. So… because squads are mostly independent, there’s… ah… no real coordination. No cohesion. Each soldier brings their own equipment, and each squad obeys orders as they see fit. So that makes Khannite hordes––ah, that’s what a Khan’s army is called––that makes Khannite hordes hard to stop. There’s no single tactic that works. But that’s also a weakness––no cohesion, means it’s very chaotic. If… if a retreat or a flanking order is called it’s, uh… it’s not always followed. So when Khannites win, they run over the opposition, but when they lose, they... uh... are decimated.”

That didn’t sound like an army, that sounded like a wild mob.

“For special tactics and manoeuvres, the Khan usually has a certain number of higher-level, elite units.” He put a few more tokens on the table, all shiny gold. “A few squads of high-level adventurers and disciplined mercenary corps who are deployed for short sorties.”

He glanced at Ulfric as he said that. The scarred ex-merc shook his head.

“Never took part in any of that.”

“Ah.” Hrog nodded. “Then, uh… yes. Those are people like mister Ulfric.” He cleared his throat. “They… uh… they… you need to… to know them to fight them. Each unit is unique, and powerful enough to shift the flow of a battle.”

“We have a pretty good list of the Khans’ stronger adventurers,” Karjn said. At Hrog’s startled look, she shot him a stare. “I mean, theoretically.”

“Ah… ah, yes.” Hrog nodded quickly. Maryll made a puzzled noise and tilted her head to the side.

Right. Karjn was officially an agent of the crown. But the crown was supposed to be lazy and ineffectual, barely capable of handling their own affairs, and unable to stamp down the ‘rebellion’ in its own backyard, and absolutely not able to draw a census of the Khannite empires’ forces.

It was probably safe to let some of that slip here; the only secret bigger than the truth about the king’s pet rebels here was me.

“They… ah… also have siege engines,” Hrog continued, “But I don’t think they’ll… be able to use those against you,” he smiled weakly. “Your entrance is too small for trebuchets, and ballistae aren’t… very good. Compared to mages.”

He cleared his throat. I noticed his stuttering was fading out the more he talked.

“The next thing, is…” he pulled out orange tokens, “beast riders. Usually flying units. Roc riders, wyvern riders, mostly, but… but also ground-based, like scorpion, bear, boar or wolf riders. Many of the ground mounts are... spread out among the normal units––regular soldiers bringing their tamed monsters to war. But there’s also specialized units, directly commanded by their Khan. They are… they’re like the adventurers, used as shock or... or flanking units. Trained from birth to fight on their mounts. Some villages in the northern Khans h…have those traditions. Miss Thogra comes from those parts.”

Karjn chimed up again. “Out in the wastes or in the prairies, their beast riders are a huge problem. But they don’t handle woodlands too well, which is how Velthia managed to hold the First Khan back. I don’t think they’ll do any better in your halls.”

“The… the last units in a Khannite horde,” Hrog said, dropping a few black tokens in front of the diamond, “is the… the slave units.”

The way he said it, with a kind of resigned matter-of-fact tone, sent a small chill down my metaphorical back.

“A Khannite horde is… uh… usually accompanied by a large number of slaves, who do… ah… the menial labor, maintenance and… uh… act as entertainment. When… when the Khan expects a major battle, he arms them with spears and shields,” he moved nine of the black tokens so they formed a tight square, “…and orders them to... walk at the enemy. Which they do, until they are told to stop, or...” he trailed off there.

“Khannites are really good at beating all hope out of their slaves,” Karjn muttered grimly. “The idea of disobeying even a suicidal order never crosses their minds.”

Hrog nodded. “Yes. They are… slave units never stop advancing, even under a hail of arrows and spells. They are sent first, as… as shock troops. Tire out the mages on the other side, spend their arrows and weaken morale before the actual forces g––get sent out.”

Lovely. So facing a Khannite horde will be like facing a human Master backed by a wild mob. Just lovely.

“in comparison, ah... a Velthian army is… completely different.”

He fished a few more tokens from his bag.

“Velthian armies… uh… are strictly organized in units of a hundred and ten units form a legion,” he said, dropping blue tokens on the slab in a ten by ten grid, presumably each representing a unit. “Lieutenants lead units, commanders lead legions, and a general can lead multiple legions. This rigid form makes… makes them easy to understand, but also… also easy to equip. Equipment is standardized. Mass-produced in the core cities of... uh... the empire. So any soldier can do the same as any other, and they… they try to be able to do anything. They win in tactical flexibility, but lose… er, lose on individual soldier strength compared to Khannite hordes.

“They also have… special role units,” he continued, dropping a couple of cyan tokens on the board. “These act in conjunction with the main forces and do most of… ah… most of the damage. They are mage units, stealth archers, beast riders. Ah… back in the day, they used all kinds of beasts, like giant spider breeds, Rinkars and even Hydras, but these days they mostly rely on Pegasi and Unicorns, since, ah… the Khannites prefer not to use those. Not intimidating enough for most Khannites. Rider units are as standardized as the main forces, with the exception of numbers. It’s a little hard to get skilled riders.

“The Velthian doctrine is that in combat, the ma…main forces act as a wall, hol…holding the ground, while the mages rain down death. For that reason, they also… have heavy units,” he put white tokens near the cyan ones, “which have only the job of keeping the mages alive. They’re heavily armored, and… supported by mage spells. Hard to kill.”

“Which obviously means,” Karjn piped in, “that the secret to taking down a Velthian army is to take out their mage complement. Once they’re out of the picture, the army basically stalls.”

“B…But the heavy… uh…”

She glanced at Hrog. The timid man basically wilted.

“I never said ‘in combat’. Just slit the mages’ throats in their sleep. Easy-peasy.” She shrugged.

Hrog and Maryll both grimaced at that. Ulfric just frowned.

“Taylor isn’t going to fight like a resistance will,” Ulfric grunted. “She has armies, she’ll make fortifications, and fight them like an entire country would.”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t also fight like the rebels do,” Karjn retorted. “She’s already well equipped for that; those bug chutes of hers are perfect to drop assassins from, and nothing’s stopping her from using that pixie of hers to do the job outside her walls. Hell, Warlocks are supposed to be able to turn invisible, right? Contract with someone who isn’t squeamish and get them to do it.”

[...]

The lesson continued for a while longer as Hrog tried to explain some of the tactics the armies used against one another, but his stomach soon informed him it was time to do something else.

“I… uh… have other things to do this afternoon,” he stammered an apology before leaving with his tokens, “b…but I can, uh… come back tomorrow morning.”

I gave him a nod and let him go, inwardly preparing myself for the next lesson. Karjn had had a point when she’d talked about making strategic maps out of wax slabs, and I had plenty of hands––so to speak––to get working on those.

—Exploit 4.9