August surveyed the death around him, not the first he had seen and likely far from the last. Moving over to Cragheart - or more correctly, his corpse - he bent down and shut his eyes if they were open but otherwise took a moment in solemn respect for his fallen comrade. Where was a cleric when you needed one? 

Standing back up he looked around and listened closely for any sign of battle, wondering if this assault had provided the necessary distraction. 

..necessary distraction, or expendable fool.. 

   Mizzet the Astronomer  "The useless soft fur rats fell for it and they are being killed in mass"

Balthor Flameblade  half stumbles down a hill off to your left, wounded and bleeding  "Good fight, we caught them all with their helmets down.  But like most fights they end too soon."

"Cragheart didn't make it," August said grimly as Blather and Mizzet's arrival broke the momentary stillness of the battlefield. 

 Balthor Flameblade  "Broken Bows...but such things are war."

Mizzet the Astronomer just nods and looks down at the ground. 

A couple of horns sound in the distance, with some yells "assemble at the horns" 

Balthor Flameblade  "Lets go"

He turned towards the sound of the horns and yells before turning back to Blathor and nodding once in acknowledgement. Meanwhile, on the trek towards where the blaring horns were originating from, he took brief stock of his wounds. Nothing he would die immediately from but enough that probably required another visit to a medic. And more ale.  

  A couple fields over Captain Loxus Shackraos gatherers the troops   "All right fighters...good work!  The enemy fell for our trap hook, line and blood.  We broke their lines, scattered their forces and killed a good number of them. 

Now we just need to make an orderly withdraw back to our lines."

The troops fall into line and head back the way before.

August slid his sword back into its scabbard with only a few grunts of aches and pains.

Already having regrets?  A seemingly distant voice echoed in his mind, along with the memories of wanting to join the military to see new lands and experience adventure. To escape his home. At least you're alive.. for the moment.

It's a short walk back to the army lines. 

Captain Loxus Shackraos "All right, break down and rest.  We did good.  Have a drink on me"     Captain Loxus Shackraos heads off to report.

Troops around break up to rest, heal, and have a drink or two.

August sought out Mizzet and Balthor as everyone broke off, both in effort to avoid waiting to see the likely overworked medics and to have someone to drink with. A few ales should ease  the lingering pain from his wounds, the bleeding had mostly stopped by now. As for any potential infections, well that is what the elixirs made were for. 

"Did you see anything besides half orcs?" He brought up to the two follow soldiers, or just one of them if he couldn't find the other. The distraction had seemingly gone according to plan, might as well see if anyone else had another perspective.  

  Mizzet is not around anywhere you look.  Balthor Flameblade is easy to find near by with Durlan Daynore, and they head over to drink. 

Durlan Daynore  "Nah, they were all half orc skirmishers...fast moving troops.  No frogs to be seen."

Balthor Flameblade  "They say the derision worked.  We made it look like a full attack, and we did not even have close to a full battalion. They fell for it and turned their flank.....and the wagons got through."

"Ah," August stoically acknowledged in regards to the 'frogs' comment from Daynore. Was that a hint of disappointment he was feeling?

"Cragheart," a pause as he grabbed a nearby ale and raised it in customary form of honoring a fallen comrade, "did not die in vain then. May we all be so lucky." Another reflective pause, followed by another swing of ale. "Where are these half orcs coming from? Mercs?" 

Everyone nearby also drinks the toast, and people around add another couple names.

 Balthor Flameblade  "Who knows?"

Durlan Daynore  "Ah, every dark hole and gutter is full of their kind."

Balthor Flameblade  "You think too much August.  Just kill whatever they tell you to, makes for an easy life."

I ran from the easy life, August pondered replying but decided against, opting instead for a bit of sarcasm back to Blathor. "You make me sound like a wizard. Or worse, a noble." 

"Curiosity has always a  personal character flaw," he said to no one in particular with a small chuckle before taking another swig of ale. 

  Balthor Flameblade   "Yea, well all the gray beards will die off some day and some one will have to replace them....why not you"

Durlan Daynore   "Yea, Graybeard Awegust!"

A male Gnome in the uniform of the  Messenger Service comes up to the table.   "Warrior August?  Captain Loxus Shackraos requests you come see him in his command tent as soon as you are able."

August turned his attention to the gnome at the mention of his name, quickly alert to the summons via someone from the messenger service. It went without saying that 'as soon as you are able' most likely meant immediately, provided he wasn't bleeding out. 

"Aye, will be on my way." He said as he downed the last of his ale and nodded a quick goodbye to his fellow comrades before making his way out to the Captain's command tent. 

Summons for your incompetence. 

The guard at the command tent waves you inside.

Captain Loxus Shackraos stands on one side of the tent by a large map and several piles of scrolls.  "August, good come in.  I will keep this simple.  In the last two combats we lost eleven leaders.  We are due to get reinforced and day now...or so they say.  And even when that happens, we might not get any leaders worth a blade.  I would rather promote troopers.  Anyway, I need squad leaders.  You have a well head on your shoulders.  You want to be a squad leader?  Lead ten troops into battle?" 

"It would be an honor Captain," August stated, accepting the role without a second thought. As a small town boy, the opportunity to learn a skill outside a farm or a ranch - to say nothing of surviving the battlefield - was an accomplishment. To him the promotion, his first really since completing training, was genuinely considered an honor. Along with affirmation he had chosen the right path for himself.

"How can I be of service?" 

    Captain Loxus Shackraos  hands over a small scroll with the written promotion and a small metal badge.

Captain Loxus Shackraos  "Lead a squad of ten troops.  We will have a muster ready in the morning.  Get some sleep.  I'd like to give you some time to train with your troops....but we will need to move out before noon.  We need to keep the flanks filled and patrolled.  So, you will loop around the south flank, and back to the main body.  Got it?"

"Understood," he acknowledged, his years in the service having provided him with a decent knowledge of the basics of military maneuvering. His sword play could use more work but that was neither here nor there. August survived and that was the realistic calculation of a good soldier, one that still breathing. 

"I will be ready at first light. Thank you Captain," August remarked as he took the scroll and badge, a brief, somber sense of the responsibly flickering in the back of his mind. Or was it exhaustion? He would wait to be dismissed in case the Captain had anything else, otherwise he would try and avoid the others as best able and call it a night. Celebration could wait for another evening and the demands from the day had finally caught up to him. 

Captain Loxus Shackraos   "You are dismissed, Corporal August".

What is left of the night passes quickly.

In the morning, a clerk Stedd Tallstag shows you your ten troops:  Durlan Daynore, John Wyvern, Eric Schenkle, Gilbert Grimm, Uryaen Caellae, Balthor Flameblade, Creston Fendell, Reuben Wells, Warren Hunter, Grim Zeke.