The Cost of War

The Cost of War

The Blackhawk officer tried in vain to ignore the faint smell of rotting fish and human waste that permeated the air at the docks of Eastshore as he watched the wounded soldiers painfully make their way ashore. This was the last of the naval vessels carrying M'Chek's finest home from their victorious battle in Grantir. Many walked painfully and unsteadily on the weathered planks of the dock, the walking wounded. These soldiers were the lucky ones, receiving only minor wounds that didn't maim or horribly disfigure. Others weren't as lucky, forced to be carried from the ship to the shore, they bore the brunt of precisely what an enemy sword, an axe, or an arrow can do to the unskilled or the unlucky. Severed limbs, horribly painful and deep gashes, broken and pierced bodies were the norm amongst these soldiers.

Thaylis stepped from the squat stone building used by the harbor master into the light drizzle of rain that blanketed the coast in its cold, wet grasp, leaving his Adjutant to continue her grim task of tallying the Butcher's Bill. He found himself in the midst of the slow moving line of wounded offering words of encouragement and gratitude, a thankful smile, and a comradely touch to the men and women butchered under the Drotid weapons. He hoped his presence among them let them know their pain and sacrifice to their nation did not go unnoticed.

As the last of the wounded were carried away from the docks Thaylis leaned heavily against a dock post, scanning the harbor while waiting for Captain Hetter to finish her work. The stench of blood and pus, vomit and foulness, pain and death lingered on the breeze, and he ignored it as best he could. He was soon lost in thought, remembering various battles and skirmishes he was involved in; their first significant victory over the Drotid invaders just north of Eastshore. Their desperate and brutal counter-attack at Greylake to take back the region from the enemy. The mission to blow up the iron mines near Derrington Keep to deny the Drotid the resources to continue their struggle. The costly battle in Grantir and the death of the Voivode.

A soft cough brought the Brigadier our of his reverie, he turned back to see Captain Hetter standing in the doorway of the building he just left, holding a single piece of parchment in her small hand, noting the bitter frown covering her tired face. Slowly walking back to her he accepted the offered document, giving her a questioning look.

"How bad is it, Florence?"

Scanning the page, Thaylis sighed heavily as he read the details.

• • Author's note: I've had the opportunity to speak with Brigadier Beign on several occasions, interviewing him on various aspects of the M'Chekian - Drotid War. During these talks he has spoken not only of his involvement and participation during that conflict, but at times lowered his guard and related several personal experiences. May the reader enjoy this small glimpse into one of M'Chek's gallant and capable officers.

~ Loriallis Sol, Sage of Vorin.