White Silver Wolves
White Silver Wolves 3128
Eternal Suns 30th, 3128
By the 30th, we had arranged supplies for both companies. River Trade Coalition Transports had arrived and we began loading men and material. It was slow going, but the men proved up to the task.
Eternal Suns 31st, 3128
By the 13th hour, our flotilla was loaded and we began the southward ride to the sea. Weather good.
Eternal Suns 33rd, 3128
By midday, we arrived in the island nation city of Jasara. A damnable place. Still, it did well to get the men off the boats. Boredom, alcohol, and mercenaries do not mix. We put every man to offloading cargo up top, loading onto wagons which then carry the goods down to the base of the falls where the men must reload onto more boats. It was tedious but necessary.
It takes two days. In the evening, the Companies are broken by squad and allowed to venture into the city under strict orders not to cause trouble. Which, they inevitably fail to follow.
Thunder Hawk 1st, 3128
I was called down to the local gaol late on the first to find nearly the entirety of Kornash’s 1st squad drunk and behind bars. Apparently, they got into a brawl with a group of Maelstrom warriors and the fighting got out of hand. By the time they were done, dozens of people were injured, half the tavern’s tables smashed and an expensive window broken. It cost one man a month’s wage, but we “negotiated” their release. To keep them out of trouble, they were assigned permanent duty with the supplies.
Though I could not show it, reports indicate they kicked the hell out of Maelstrom, Tempest, and local mercs. I’m proud of my boys.
Thunder Hawk 2nd, 3128
By the grace of the Ascended, we put the city of Jasara to our rudder and sailed south down the Shaintar. Peaceful, if not for the constant bickering and brawling among the men. My 2nd squad even tried to smuggle some “guests” on board. We had to drop them off in Rhion.
Thunder Hawk 4th, 3128
Two days later, we arrived late in the evening in Eastport. If there is one city more detestable than Jasara, it is Eastport. Here, our goods were offloaded from the RTC boats and loaded onto litters to reach the ships anchored offshore. I put 1st squad in charge of security. I had HOPED to keep them out of trouble.
I was enjoying a fine dinner when shouting drew me out onto the docks. Half of 1st squad was firing into the sea, and the other half were IN the sea. One of them was trapped in a johnboat without oars, just kind of drifting. Another was rowing a second johnboat, and one was bobbing amidst some debris. They shouted something about pirates…
Ascended preserve us.
With both companies recalled and formed, we made short work of loading and escorting the supplies to the ships. Shoreleave was, necessarily, canceled. Though, I suppose the 1st squad did well enough. They prevented theft of our most critical supplies.
Thunder Hawk 5th, 3128
Ten ships sailed with the tide on the morning of the 5th. Larger than the RTC river craft, the men seemed to enjoy the ocean trip better, though about half spent their time wretching over the side. The weather held, as well as it ever does at sea.
We made good time.
Thunder Hawk 13th, 3128
Nine days of uneventful sailing found our fleet anchored off the coast of Dregordia. We offloaded near a city called Sseto. A trade port of some kind. We arrived at dawn and immediately began the long process of transferring everything to shore. The heat and humidity were oppressive. Pretty much the last two days had been miserable and it only got worse.
The men performed well, and by nightfall, both companies were camped along the beach. Locals came out to trade. A few industrious men set large fires and the companies had themselves an impromptu party. Good for them. If only we could have done something about the damnable heat and wet.
Thunder Hawk 14th, 3128
By dawn, our camps were broken, our ranks formed, and two weeks of rations distributed among the men. We marched out, heading west along the road to Aissiva. The roads were good, though the weather continued to be hot and muggy. Some of the men fell out due to heat stress, or overindulgence.
Thunder Hawk 22nd, 3128
We arrived at the town of Aissiva. Here, so far removed from any outsiders, the landscape, architecture, and culture was wholly alien. Still, the locals treated us well. They even offered to sell foodstuffs and drink. Wary of local trouble, the men were confined to the camp which is set just off the road and outside the town’s limit. Pickets were posted to prevent anyone from trying to sneak in at night.
Some pickets reported seeing movement in the grass, but no encounters were recorded.
Thunder Hawk 23rd, 3128
Before dawn, we turned south off the road, and headed into the jungle. The weather turned bad, with a driving rain making progress miserable. We slowed to a crawl as we were forced to literally cut our way through the jungle. Dozens began to fall out from heat, wet, and foot rot.
Thunder Hawk 29th, 3128
After six brutal days of marching through the Ascended forsaken jungle, our entire line was suddenly ambushed by local Dregordian savages. They appeared out of nowhere, exploding from the swampy ground around us, cutting men down, before disappearing again. We managed to fight them off, but take bad losses. Worse, wounds in these conditions tend to fester.
Every night after, we doubled our perimeters but were still ambushed. They used the same tactic. Without warning, they would explode into camp, wreaking havoc. When enough of them fell, they would fade away. The effect on morale was terrible. Men could not sleep for fear of being taken by ravening murder lizards.
Festival Moons 4th, 3128
After another seven day slog, with nightly attacks, we arrived at our “campsite.” It was a bog. A bloody swamp!
Despite the fatigue, and nearly a third of our force casualties or on sick rolls, we deployed to begin fortifying our “position.” By nightfall, the men were done in. We had little to offer, as there was precious little dry ground for fires. And, of course, that night began the drums in the dark.
Festival Moons 5th, 3128
Desperate to erect some form of defensive fortifications, we sent out teams to fell trees for barricades. However, by noon our foraging parties were under attack and forced to retreat back to the swamp. We were low on food, lower on morale, surrounded, and cut off. Worse, reports from survivors told that these Dregordian barbarians breathed FIRE! What hell did we march into?
With no other choice, every able body began to dig in, trying to form a small defensible berm in preparation for the inevitable attack.
Festival Moons 6th, 3128
Lt. Grom, commander of 2nd Platoon, of Captain Kornash’s 2nd Company, offered to take some of his men and try to reach Aissiva for aid. With reservations, we agreed. However, after two days, our Adept could not contact Lt. Grom’s men. Sgt. Slate of Kornash’s 1st Squad offered to follow Grom’s trail to determine if he was, in fact, ambushed. And, if so, cut their way to Aissiva. Though we were loath to waste more men, we needed to reach the Dregordians. So, we doubled the number, sending both my Kornash’s 1st squad and my 4th.
Festival Moons 10th, 3128
Sgt Slate’s unit reported that they arrived at the ambush site. Lt. Grom’s men were attacked, and most likely captured. Following the tracks, Sgt Slate’s unit was led to ancient temple ruins. Giant overgrown ziggurats rose out of the jungle. However, they found the site crawling with wild Dregordians. Sending scouts forward, Slate’s men witnessed a horrible ritual. Hundreds of the barbarian Dregordian massed at the foot of the largest ziggurat, chanting and bellowing. At the top, a large Dregrodian in scale armor and feathers plunged a knife into a writhing figure being held down by two more Dregordians. The victim shrieked in agony as the feathered lizard ripped out his still-beating heart before devouring it. Then, they threw the body to the waiting mass who ripped it apart in an orgy of hunger.
Along the base of the ziggurat were cages of bone. The 1st squad scouts spotted White Silver Wolves, including Lt. Grom and his men, and several Dregordians. However, there were simply too many of the beasts for Slate’s men to handle. They needed to get to Aissiva.
Withdrawing, they started making their way north.
Festival Moons 11th, 3128
They made it about a day before their cold camp was attacked at the 13th hour. The squads were overrun. Slate gave the order to break into units and cut their way through the Aissiva. Whoever made it must return with reinforcements. Slate and a few remained behind to buy his men time.
The tired and disoriented men of the 1st and 4th squads fled into the jungle hotly pursued by shrieking native Dregodians.
Meanwhile, back at our “camp”, we fortified as best we can without access to wood or stone. Most of the camp was in kneed deep water. Everyone was sick. Most could barely remain conscious.
Festival Moons 12th, 3128
The first attack came at dusk. We did our best to leave no water for them to ambush us, or make it too shallow for them to hide. So, they rushed us en masse. Dozens of them just poured out of the jungle, some breathing fire. Thank the Ascended for our dwarves and druids. We hit them hard. Preset traps took their toll, breaking up their formations. Our crossbowmen lay down a murderous fire. Only a handful reached our lines that first night. But it was just the beginning.
Festival Moons 13th, 3128
They attacked again. However, this time, they were more cautious. We believe they watched us reset and dig more traps, so they were careful to avoid them. This made them easier for our bowmen, but still…
Festival Moons 14th, 3128
Again they attacked. This time they managed to breach our lines to the south, but we pushed them back with losses. Too many of us are sick.
Festival Moons 15th, 3128
There were so many bodies, we began stacking their dead for breastworks and using their long arms for our own defense. We also took some of our oil and set fire traps. The first time their firebreathers hit that, they went up like kindling. It did the boys good to see it, but it just delayed the inevitable. They would come again the next night.
Festival Moons 16th, 3128
After five days in the jungle, members of 1st squad stumbled out of the jungle, starving, dehydrated, and exhausted. The local Dregordians, at first shocked, quickly took them into Aissiva where they mercifully received food, water, and rest. Despite their fatigue, they managed to convince the locals to gather food, water, and men to rescue our stranded forces.
For days, our druids worked almost day and night, healing the wounded, treating the sick, and shoring up our defenses. We finally had dry ground to stand on, but our numbers dwindle daily and they seemed to have an unlimited supply. That night, they launched their usual brutal assault, but a small group coming from the north managed to slip through our defenses. They had an adept. Captain Kornash cut through four men before we brought him down. One of our scouts got the adept, but Kornash was badly wounded. He wouldn’t make it.
Festival Moons 17th, 3128
1st squad woke in Aissiva to find an adept, Ssorla from the Order of the Jade Flame waiting. He agreed to help gather warriors to relieve our camp. Already a couple of dozen Dregordians waited outside. Despite their condition, the Wolves gather supplies and immediately begin leading their new allies south.
In the jungle, they hit us at dawn. Most of us were asleep, too exhausted to move. One scout spotted them before they were on us. It was a close-run thing…we lost a dozen good men, more wounded. I don’t know how long we can hold out.
Festival Moons 20th, 3128
For days they hit us two, or three times a day. At this point, they seem less concerned with taking our position in a single rush, but content to winnow us down till we are too weak to fight. Our supplies ran out, arrows and bolts would last another few days. Our adepts were dead. No way to contact 1st squad.
Festival Moons 22nd, 3128
The attacks were nearly constant. They seemed almost desperate. Where did they get their numbers? We were down to quarter strength. We were scavenging arrows from the dead. No time to sap, the druids were too exhausted to do much other than heal what wounds they can. Captain Kornash was dying, nothing to be done. If reinforcements didn’t arrive soon, there would be no one left to save.
Festival Moons 23rd, 3128
There were no attacks. But the drums, the drums. We knew what was coming. Men slept where they lay, too tired to care.
Festival Moons 24th, 3128
They came at dawn, breathing fire. They rushed us from all fronts. We were outnumbered three to one, and there was little strength left in those who remained. Everyone in the infirmary was armed and put into line, no matter their condition. They were going to die either way.
We held them off for hours, but our lines gave way. Then they were in the camp. It was over…
When arrows rained down from above and more Dregordians, these wearing armor appeared and cut through the barbarians. I looked up to see 1st squad leading the attack. Even so, the battle raged for another hour before the feral Dregordians retreated back into the jungle.
I collapsed where I was. Sickness and rot doing when the beasts could not. Allied Dregordian healers moved through our ranks, healing and treating. We had survived another day.
That night, I met with Ssorla and his people. They seemed acutely enranged by their wild kin. It seems that these cultists are part of the Dragon Cult, and they are bitter enemies of Ssorla’s people. Despite our condition, Ssorla was determined to march out in the morning to hunt down the Dragon Cult. Wanting a bit of payback myself, I agreed.
About 50 of my most able-bodied men volunteered, while the rest remained behind to recuperate.
Festival Moons 25th, 3128
We marched out before dawn, with 1st squad leading the way. By nightfall, we arrived near the ancient ruins. The Wolves dropped their kit and stripped down to the barest necessities. The Dregordians sat in circles and painted their faces with white mud and berries. Despite my excitement, sleep overtook me.
Festival Moons 26th, 3128
We were moving hours before dawn, creeping up on the enemy stronghold. How many had they lost over the last days? Our new Dregordian allies dispatched their pickets as we reached the outer structures. Just as dawn rose weakly over the canopy, an enemy sentry gave a cry waking their entire camp. We charged.
We were still outnumbered, and they help defensive positions and the high ground. But we were mad and thirsting for revenge. Our lines swept into the complex but met fierce resistance from the cultists. Say what you will about their sanity, they fought like demons, no fear and feeling no pain. Inch by bloody inch, we pushed them back, sweeping building to building. From their ziggurats they rained fire and arrows down on us, cutting through our ranks.
The druids formed circles in our rear and begin unleashing terrible magics. One of their pyramids collapsed, entombing dozens of them in the ruins. Our quicker scouts flanked from the north and south, leading raids against their casters.
For hours the battle raged, no quarter offered, none given. but, by evening, we had pushed them back to their final pyramid, the central structure still slick with the blood of victims. They fought bitterly, costing us two for every one we slew, but eventually, few remained but their chief cultist and his honor guard. Then he did something I still honestly hardly believe. Tapping into some ancient profane magic, he sacrificed his own body to become some kind of dragon thing…
I cannot better describe it. His body erupted into flames, his screams of agony echoing through the growing night. From the ashes rose a massive, fire breathing dragon. Our lines quailed and rocked back as the dragon unleashed flame. But then, a new sound deafened the field as a massive iron golem charged across the field, grabbed the dragon by the neck and ripped him from his perch atop the ziggurat.
Of that titanic battle, I can say only that we won, though where they fell there is till a pool of molten slag that has yet to cool.
By nightfall, the complex was ours. We managed to free many captives, some even joined our fight. Lt. Grom was gone, sacrificed in front of his men. But, Sgt. Slate lived. About half those who had been captured suffered a dark fate.
That evening, I met with Ssorla and his men. They have agreed to a formal alliance. Already, the rest of the Wolves are leaving the dreadful swamp and relocating to the ruins. More Dregoridans are joining us in cleansing and fortifying this position. Captain Kornash died, but his memory lives on. We have named this, Camp Kornash. And from here, the 2nd and 3rd Companies shall operate.
With Captain Kornash and Lt. Grom slain, Sergeant Slate of 1st Squad is acting commander of 2nd company. I hold general command.
Captain Helt, 3rd Company White Silver Wolves