Dawn at Schwarzwald Keep was not a gentle awakening. It was the cracking of a whip made of shouted orders, the groan of men pulling on damp gambesons, and the cold metallic scent of fear sweating from a thousand pores.
Kaelen stood by the Falken campfire, chewing on a piece of salt-hardened beef that tasted of despair and preservatives. His Logistics I interface was a constant, scrolling overlay on the chaos.
[ ARMY MUSTER - SCHWARZWALD FORCE ]
Total Strength: ~1,200
Effective Fighting Strength (Est.): 650
Supply Status: Strained (9 days of hard rations)
Cohesion: Low (Factionalized)
Across the muddy field, he saw Jannik speaking in low, urgent tones with Lord Anselm's aide-de-camp. His brother's gestures were animated, his face a mask of earnest strategy. Selling it, Kaelen thought. Selling my idea.
A system ping echoed in his mind.
[ REPUTATION UPDATE ]
Lord Anselm's Office: Status - Acknowledged (Source: Falken Heir).
House Falken (Internal): Jannik's Esteem → Calculating. (No longer purely Hostile).
Jannik returned, his stride full of new importance. He didn't look at Kaelen, but his voice was addressed to the small circle of their guards. "The Count has accepted a bold stratagem. A feint at the Serpent's Pass with the heavy infantry and knights. Meanwhile, a light, mobile force will take an… alternate route to strike the raider encampments directly."
He paused, letting the words hang. "House Falken has been chosen to lead this mobile force."
A mix of pride and terror flickered across the guards' faces. Lead a mission? An honor. A suicide mission? Also an honor, apparently.
Jannik's eyes finally found Kaelen's. There was no gratitude there. Only the cold gleam of a man who has taken a risky stock tip and is now all-in. "You will accompany us, brother. Your… familiarity with unconventional paths may be of use." The subtext was clear: If this goes well, the glory is mine. If it fails, the blame is yours.
[ NEW QUEST: THE SHEPHERD'S GAMBIT ]
OBJECTIVE: Survive the flanking maneuver and contribute to the raid's success.
SECONDARY: Ensure Falken casualties remain below 40%.
REWARD: 800 XP, Unlock: Combat Skill Branch, +2 Attribute Points.
FAILURE: Death, or the complete annihilation of Falken forces.
VALERIUS'S NOTE: "AT LAST! A PROPER SKIRMISH! TRY TO MAKE IT BLOODY. BUT ALSO SMART. THE LEDGER APPRECIATES EFFICIENCY IN VIOLENCE."
The "light, mobile force" was a generous term. It was Jannik, his four guards, Kaelen, and twenty of the least-infirm levies—including Old Thom and the wheezing cougher, whose name Kaelen's system now tagged as Piotr. They were given five days of rations, ropes, and a mandate for "swift and silent movement."
The Shepherd's Back wasn't a path. It was a suggestion made by mountain goats. A ragged scar of scree and stubborn pines clawing up the side of the High Crags. The main army, banners flying, drums beating, marched noisily towards the distant pass. Kaelen's group slipped into the silent, vertical world.
Within an hour, the strain was existential.
[ PARTY STATUS: FALKEN FLANKING FORCE ]
Fatigue: Extreme (And climbing)
Morale: Flickering
Observed Aliments: Sprained Ankle (x1), Altitude Nausea (x3), Sheer Terror (All).
Jannik led from the front, setting a punishing pace. He was strong, but he was a knight, not a climber. He chose the most direct routes, the ones that burned strength and frayed ropes.
Kaelen, lagging at the rear with AGI: 6, watched the data. Saw Piotr's cough worsening with the thin air. Saw the sprained ankle levy (Levy #8) trying to hide his limp. Saw the collective stamina bar of the party dip into the red.
His Logistics I skill wasn't for armies here. It was for this—a single, fragile organism struggling up a rock face.
"Jannik," Kaelen called out, his voice swallowed by the wind.
His brother didn't turn. "Keep up!"
"The path to the left. It's less steep. Longer by two hundred paces, but it conserves twenty percent party stamina."
Jannik paused, glaring down. "We don't have time for scenic routes."
"We have less time for a man to fall and take three others with him," Kaelen shot back, his voice still flat. He pointed to where Levy #8 was visibly trembling. "He's a liability on this incline. On the easier path, he's an asset who can still hold a spear tonight."
A standoff on a cliff face. The guards looked between the brothers. Old Thom was watching Kaelen.
[ INFLUENCE CHECK: CHALLENGING ]
[ MODIFIERS: IQ 14 (+7), Logistics I (+5), Title: Pragmatic Survivor (+3), Visible Party Strain (+5) vs. Jannik's Authority (-10) ]
[ RESULT: Success (Barely) ]
Jannik's jaw worked. He looked at the struggling levy, then at the sun's position. With a disgusted snarl, he waved toward the left-hand path. "Fine. But if we're late, it's on your head."
The shift was minor. But in Kaelen's system log, it registered.
[ SKILL PROGRESS: LOGISTICS I → 42% ]
[ PARTY EFFICIENCY INCREASE: +5% ]
[ REPUTATION: Falken Levies → Quiet Dependence +10% ]
They climbed. The world narrowed to handholds, ragged breath, and the cruel mathematics of endurance. Kaelen's own body screamed. His STR: 4 was a constant, burning protest. But his WILL—that unquantified stat born of two lifetimes of getting back up—was the only thing that kept his fingers curling around the next rock.
They reached the summit as the sun bled out behind the western peaks. Below, nestled in a hidden bowl of the crags, were the raider encampments. Dozens of cookfires winked like mocking stars. The main force of warriors was gone, drawn to the spectacle at Serpent's Pass. Left behind were the old, the young, the guards—and the loot from a season of banditry.
Jannik's eyes gleamed with avarice. "We hit them at dawn. Fast, hard, burn the tents, take what we can carry."
It was a brute's plan. A smash-and-grab. It would work, probably. But the secondary objective glowed in Kaelen's vision: Casualties below 40%.
He activated his Logistics I appraisal on the camp.
[ TARGET ANALYSIS: RAIDER ENCAMPMENT ]
Population: ~80 (Combat Capable: ~25)
Watch Posts: 3 (Poorly placed, lines of sight blocked by tents).
Asset Concentration: Central tent cluster (Chieftain's tent, loot store).
Escape Routes: Two main paths out of the bowl.
A plan, cold and efficient, formed in his mind. It wasn't knightly. It was predatory.
As Jannik laid out his simple "charge and scream" strategy to the men, Kaelen spoke into the tense silence that followed.
"They'll scatter into the rocks if we charge head-on. We'll chase them, get split up, picked off." He kept his eyes on the camp below, not on his brother's rising fury. "We need to funnel them."
Jannik scoffed. "And how do you propose to do that?"
"Two groups. A small one, here at the head of the northern escape path. They make noise, light torches, look like a larger force blocking the exit. The main group doesn't charge the camp. They sweep in from the southwest, driving the panicked raiders toward the apparent blockade." He drew the maneuver in the dirt with a stick. A hammer and an anvil. "We corral them against our own false threat. Concentration of force. Minimized pursuit."
The guards stared. It was… tactical. Devious. It treated the enemy like livestock.
Jannik was silent for a long moment. The quest for glory warred with the desire to survive and claim his loot. Survival, and the potential for greater praise if the raid was a flawless victory, won.
"Fine," he gritted out. "You take Old Thom and three others. Be the block. Make it convincing. The rest of us with me."
It was a concession. And a way to shunt Kaelen away from the main fighting.
[ PARTY ASSIGNED: 'FALSE BLOCKADE' - 5 MEMBERS ]
[ MISSION PARAMETERS: Simulate a larger force. Hold position. Do not die. ]
An hour before dawn, Kaelen stood with his four terrified levies in the narrow defile of the northern path. They had six torches, which they lit. They shouted orders to imaginary troops. They beat their spears against shields. In the pre-dawn gloom and echoing rocks, it sounded like an entire company.
Below, they heard the sudden eruption of screams and steel as Jannik's group hit the south flank.
The camp boiled like a kicked anthill. Figures ran, silhouetted against burning tents. True to Kaelen's prediction, a stream of raiders—maybe thirty—broke north, toward their escape route, toward the sound of Kaelen's imaginary army.
They saw the torches. They heard the shouts. They hesitated, milling in panic at the mouth of the defile, trapped between a real attack behind and a perceived one ahead.
Kaelen watched, his heart a cold drum in his chest. This was it. The moment where his stats meant nothing. STR: 4. SKL: 3. He was a fraud with a spear, standing before thirty desperate men.
Then a rock whistled past his ear. A raider, braver or more desperate, was advancing, axe raised.
[ COMBANTANT ANALYSIS: RAIDER SCOUT ]
STR: 9 | AGI: 11 | SKL: 6 | STATUS: Desperate.
The system's prediction was a flashing red line in Kaelen's vision, showing the arc of the coming axe swing. It was too fast to dodge. His AGI: 6 was useless.
But his IQ: 14 had already calculated the environment. The narrow defile. The loose scree underfoot.
As the raider lunged, Kaelen didn't raise his spear to meet the axe. He dropped, slamming the butt of his spear into the ground not for balance, but to kick out at a precariously stacked pile of rocks beside the path.
The rocks gave way in a minor landslide, not enough to bury anyone, but enough to create a crashing, dusty avalanche between him and the advancing raider. The scout stumbled back, choking on dust.
[ UNCONVENTIONAL TACTIC: ENVIRONMENTAL MANIPULATION ]
[ COMBAT AVOIDED ]
[ EXPERIENCE GAINED: 25 XP ]
It wasn't a kill. It wasn't heroic. It was a delay.
And it was enough. From behind the panicked raiders, Jannik and his men arrived, hitting their scattered rear. The trap, conceived on a spreadsheet in Kaelen's mind, snapped shut.
The "battle" was a brutal, one-sided slaughter of confused men. Kaelen's group watched from behind their rockfall, never having to cross blades.
As the sun fully rose, illuminating the smoldering camp and the tied-up survivors, the system tallied the cost.
[ QUEST COMPLETE: THE SHEPHERD'S GAMBIT ]
STATUS: Overwhelming Success
Falken Casualties: 2 wounded (Minor). Attrition: 8%.
REWARD: 800 XP, Combat Skill Branch UNLOCKED, +2 Attribute Points.
[ THE LEDGER OF GLORY ]
ACTION: Orchestrated a near-flawless tactical raid using psychological warfare and terrain.
VALERIUS'S VERDICT: "YOU FOUGHT A BATTLE WITH ROCKS AND SHADOWS. YOU SAVED YOUR MEN AND BROKE THE ENEMY. THIS IS THE WAY. +100 GLORY."
[ VALERIUS'S INTEREST: 55/100 ]
Jannik stood amidst the loot, his armor splattered, breathing heavily. He had fought, he had killed, he had won. He should have been triumphant. But when his eyes found Kaelen descending from the defile, unscathed, having won without striking a blow, a new, more complex emotion warred with the glory on his face.
It was the dawning, uneasy understanding that his brother wasn't just a coward or a cheat.
He was a different kind of weapon altogether. And Jannik had no idea how to wield him, or where to point him.
Kaelen ignored the look. He had 800 XP and 2 Attribute Points to spend. The path of the general was opening before him, one brutal, efficient, statistically-optimized choice at a time.