另类小说人亚洲小说

I’m pretty sure I’ve explained that. Okay, think of color as a particular stretching of light. On one end of the visible spectrum are bands that are warmer but less stretched. These are sometimes called thermal or heat bands, or infrared. <1 >

On the other end is the ultraviolet type of colors, which are the ones that look black to normal vision. For the most part, kobolds are without markings, but when they have them, they are in the ultraviolet range, which kobolds can see. A quick evolution from kobold eyes, and I could also tell who was whom, whether they were cooperating with names or not.

So they ended up with names like [Turkey Liver Nose Marking], who may have been Marr, or Thedd, or Tatch. But even when I lost track of who was where, my reticule had no problems keeping track of them in the [Shroud] of darkness.

Nor did it have any problems identifying [Enemy Soldier]s.

Now, if you’ve seen pack tactics at work, kobolds do it swifter and meaner. Darting in and out, sometimes a feint, more likely a swipe with sharp tiny claws, and then jumping backward, all of it seeming like an elegant dance. My job was to pester their archers with arrows, which, thanks to [Taunt], I was actually quite good at.

Because I was willing to wear armor over my second tier scales, I was better able to handle the arrows, as well. If I felt any shame over being the worst of two archers, it faded when Pale Ram insulted me, calling me useless.

“If you want me back in the city, say so.” I said.

She ground her teeth, but we were in battle, so there was no time for a prolonged discussion.

.....

We had chosen to attack from uphill, both to slow their advance, and give our side a marginal advantage in arrow range.

The dozen or so kobolds of the Auxiliary had no problem attacking double their number, nor should they have. In terms of raw skill, strength, and endurance, they were dominant over the enemy soldiers, let alone those poor colonists right next to them with the same weapons and armor.

By the time I’d released my third arrow, the kobolds had determined who among the enemy was actually dangerous. These, the actual soldiers, they focused on. Not because of any sense of honor or fair play; the things they did to the civilians afterward … not all of my dreams are nice and reassuring. In the dark of my nightmares, kobolds do those things unto me. <2 > <3 >

But the Mountain Skirmisher part of our title meant just that. We didn’t stick around or move directly down the line (usually). We would kill one or two dozen, break off, spend a few hours healing, and then strike again. Most nights we managed three skirmishes, but some nights only two. Even so, the strikes were so one sided that I cannot properly call them battles. They were conflicts, to be certain, but there were no fatalities on our side.

I know I should feel bad about that. About bringing half a decade’s military experience up against civilians. Remember, please, that these civilians were deep in the southern third of the Empire’s “human peninsula”. As armies went, they weren’t the worst to the regions they’d occupied. But they were an occupying army, and there had been incidents.

Now, I don’t mean to insult the Uruk settlements to the eastern and southern part of our empire. They have walls of spiked wood, sometimes a tower of stone. And these defenses are sufficient to keep small armies at bay.

I had no illusions about what happened to those walls once the invaders had conquered Rakkal’s Glory.

As I may have mentioned, the multiple and overlapping wards upon town walls are impressive. Even after a week of ritual siege magics, most of the defenses were intact. And they might hold a second week, and a third. But sieges are based on a single truth – it is easier to destroy than to create, even on the scale of towns. Once the walls were breached, even the capital would fall.

And they had the numbers, the equipment, and the mojo to make that happen.

What they didn’t have was the numbers to hold an encirclement; twice a week, my squad made sure there was a hole in the trenches large enough for sure footed mountain Uruk to bring in backpacks full of supplies.

Of course, it wasn’t enough to feed all the defenders, but it was better than nothing. Especially for the defender’s morale.

Which, given how rapidly everything else seemed to be falling apart, they desperately needed.

“I don’t think you can repair the stonework at this range.” Pale Ram told me, one morning when I’d stayed up late to see the walls in the sunlight.

I snorted. “Nor up close. That’s some pretty extensive damage.”

“You should have been here when Rakkal took it.” she said.

I almost told her that I had been. “What happened?” I asked instead.

“They just broke the gate in and took the place.” Pale Ram said. “I had heard legends about the minotaurs, about the raw power of the Axe Hero, but to see it was something else.”

“You were with the attacking army?” I asked.

“Not exactly.” she said. “But I got a good enough look. Just before nightfall, there was the tiniest bulge in the gate. And then by the next nightfall, the city was part of the Red Tide Empire.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

She sighed. “After that, I was a part of the Army of the Axe. I could see which way the winds of fate were blowing. On one side, food and adventure. On the other, certain death. Most of my tribe had already signed up; I just showed up one mealtime and joined them.”

“People who blend in don’t often become sergeants.” I said.

“Haha, you got me. I never tried to blend in. I might not have Arrow Storm, but even back then I had Hamstring, and an understanding of when to use it. My favorite was that last city. Hamstring a charging knight’s horse. Two kills for one arrow. What’s the flinching for? You some kind of human lover?”

“Far from it.” I said. “I just feel for the horses.”

She rolled her eyes. “Because shamanic nonsense.”

I smacked my lips together. “Because shamanic nonsense, as you call it.” I agreed.

And then I saw it. “There. That’s what’s different.”

Imagine, if you can, an arbalest, a giant crossbow. Mounted parallel to the ground a cross between a rake and a giant grappling hook. On the side, a giant wheel for reeling the claw back in. Now imagine six of them in a row, behind custom shields to protect them from defensive siege engines.

Pale Ram shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. The wards alone will protect from that crap.”

And, if I hadn’t known that the caravan were bringing some manner of new weapon, I might have agreed. “The caravan arrived six days ago. That’s longer than it would take to assemble that. It’s about right if you add in three days of ritual magic. For example, to negate parts of the defensive wards.”

“Well, nothing we can do about that. Not from up here. Get some sleep, we need to poke some holes tonight.”

That was her shorthand for punching holes in the enemy lines.

I grunted my assent. “If those do what I think they do,” I said, “it will be difficult to sleep through.”

“No, it won’t.” she said, stretching out her shoulders. “By my count, we easily kill four dozen of them a night. Even if they have thousands, they have to feel that kind of loss.”

“I’ve wondered that myself.” I said. “It is nearly one in a hundred...”

“Nope.” she said. “NOT getting that conversation started. It’s time for bed, and I’m getting to sleep even if you aren’t.”

We were both wrong about the noise. It was enough to wake the kobolds, and their cheering at the destruction caused woke both of us.

“Quiet!” Pale Ram shouted, rolling clear of her bedroll. “You know better! Quiet!”

With a spyglass, she checked the hillside. “Well, that’s that, then.” She made hand gestures for assemble and advance deeper into the cave.

I did have time to look, though. Chunks were torn along the top of that section of wall. Two of the devices were broken, and one was misaligned. But they’d had their effect; there were no soldiers atop that section of wall.

We retreated into the cave, a column of over a hundred vengeful hobgoblins coming toward our cave.

<1 > I presume because the attach to the red end of the visible light spectrum. The other end, ultraviolet, attaches to the violet end of the visible color spectrum.

<2 > In some of my nightmares, obviously. My dreams are creative and varied, even when they have the same moral of the story that I have done bad things and deserve to have bad things happen to me in turn.

<3 > That, or they’re trying to warn me what will happen if kobolds ever do catch me unable to defend myself. As if that were ever in doubt.