Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Reinforcements
Date:	00-07-10 17:33:40 EDT
From:	skyhall@hotmail.com (Sky Hall)
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

  Tim saluted the Captain that rode up to the Hiel Keep entrance. His troops 
were marching behind him.
  "How do you do, Colonel Tim?" asked the man. "I am Captain Clive, of the 
seventy-first battalion. My men and I are to be added to your command."
  Tim nodded. "Very good, Captain. My forces are in sore need of 
replenishment troops. In fact, one of the first things I'm going to do is 
take some of your men for my other units."
  The man looked a little startled. He had pale blond hair and a slim build, 
with a blond moustache as well. His eyes returned from their open disbelief 
to a regular squinty look.
  "Don't worry, Captain," said Tim. "My forces need it. Besides, I'll need 
to make sure your men are up to speed with mine." Tim looked through the 
double door entrance of Hiel Keep as Evan (his arm in a sling) and Jayel 
came out. Both were in uniform.
  Clive dismounted his chocobo, his honor guard also dismounting and they 
moved off to the side. The battalion moved up and took formation.
  "Well sir," said Clive, "we ourselves have taken some losses as well. Out 
of six brigades, I barely have enough to fill four."
  Tim studied the men, some of whom he had trained before. He could see that 
Clive had two phalanx brigades, one mounted archer, one lancer (their long 
spears being topped with small flags), one spearmen, and one light infantry. 
He also had a few squads of archers, messengers, and some healers. Tim also 
took notice of a man in black robes, with a straw hat, riding a timid 
looking chocobo.
  "Who is that?" inquired the Lord of All That Kicks Ass.
  "That would be Thulio," said Clive. "A warmage."
  "Warmage?" asked Tim, somewhat astonished.
  "Yes, sir," said Clive. "He joined us from our allies in the east."
  "You don't say," mused Tim. His mind began whirling with possibilities. 
Though the avariel had their own mages, he was uncertain about them, and 
also noticed that their abilities seemed to be limited to small effect 
areas. From what Tim knew, a warmage could deal a lot more damage to a 
larger area.
  "He's a rather unique character, though, sir," added Clive. "I'll give you 
a fuller story later, but as far as I can tell, he is something of a coward 
and he joined this war to prove to his father that he's not. And he's having 
some trouble bringing his warrior instincts to bear."
  "Interesting," said Tim. "Well, we'll talk to Thulio and figure him out 
later. Now, I see your men and they look in good order."
  "Yes, thank you sir. We had been in a serious fight and gotten beaten 
rather badly. We were given some time to relax and recover, and were then 
told to report to you. My men number at six hundred."
  "Interesting," said Tim. He did not add how he thought General Wang was 
trying to give him a raw deal.
  "Your six hundred and will add to my old six hundred for a nice number. 
Now, I feel like I'm in charge of a real division of troops. This should 
make things easier for us."
  Tim looked at Evan and Jayel.
  "This is Captain Jayel and Lieutenant Evan. This is Captain Clive." They 
made their introductions. "Clive, since being stationed here, I've had some 
time to improve my men and enhance some of their abilities. Because of this, 
I now have a brigade of dragoons, two of knights, and one of swordsmen. The 
battle we had a few days ago took a toll on my troops and thus their numbers 
are smaller. But I need them up to strength, since I am relying on them to 
lead the way. Therefore, we are stripping some of your men, volunteers only.
  "And depending on how many men are left, we will organize your men 
accordingly."
  Clive looked unsure. "I don't think my lieutenants will be happy."
  "I know, but it must be done."
  "Very well, sir."
  Jayel and Evan strode forward.
  "We are seeking volunteers to add to our units. If you want to be trained 
as a dragoon, as a knight, or as a swordsman, come forward. We will give you 
the equipment and train you as necessary, if you meet our requirements."
  Many of the men were amazed at the statement and after a while, several 
came forward. Tim counted the numbers.
  "That should work," mused Tim.
  Evan and Jayel ushered the troops aside and begin talking with them.
  Tim and Clive faced those that remained.
  Tim strode forward and spoke aloud to his new troops.
  "I am Colonel Tim. Some of you may know of me as a Lord of All That Kicks 
Ass. I am not one who likes to brag or tout on his accomplishments, but 
since you men have not seen what I have done, I will make it short and 
simple.
  "When my command first landed on Doman shores several weeks back, we 
immediately cleared the way for the rest of the army. After our first 
reinforcements arrived, we set out northeast to the northern territory of 
Doma and destroyed all the moogles in our path. From there, we awaited the 
notification to advance south. When that reached us, we attacked south, 
along the eastern border, and destroyed all the moogles we encountered till 
we reached Hiel Keep.
  "In one night, we took Hiel Keep, and have since been holding it for the 
past two weeks. We have fought off two moogle attempts to retake the keep, 
the last one three days ago and very serious. We would have not won were it 
not for the aid of the avariel." Tim pointed aloft to the roof of the keep. 
A few avariel were milling about, one took flight and flew away from the 
keep.
  "They are our allies and should be respected, regardless." Tim's tones 
even and stern. "We also have the use of dragons available, as some of you 
may know.
  "Those of you left will be reorganized as best we can. Though I see six 
brigades, we may have to try to consolidate you to five or even four. Excess 
officers will be given over to staff positions.
  "We are staying at Hiel Keep three more days, or until reinforcements from 
the Lance Henriksen Army arrive. In that time, we will see if you men are 
ready to serve me.
  "I only lead the best, and I expect the best. My troops are elite because 
I trained them to be as such. I demand the utmost from my soldiers and will 
demand no less. Wars are won by commanders who have ambition and capability. 
I have the ambition to retake all of Doma. You must be capable to accomplish 
what I set before you.
  "You may think yourselves not capable at this moment, but you soon will 
be. If you are not strong, we will make you fast. If you are not fast, we 
will make you armored. If you are not armored, we will make you smarter. If 
you're not smart, we'll make you strong. It doesn't matter what you have, 
what you can bring to serve me. What matters is that you are here and you 
are my men now. I will make of you weapons such that all of Doma can be 
proud. All in the world will know of how great Doma's soldiers are.
  "So I welcome you to Tim's Red Dragons."


--Sky


Subj:	 [ffml] [MW] Getting an Education
Date:	00-07-10 18:12:14 EDT
From:	larathia@mcs.net (Larathia)  [edited by Sky]
Reply-to:	ffml@egroups.com
To:	ffml@egroups.com

Nighthawk waited on the battlements for a response.

Earlier in the day, she'd managed to snag a human soldier willing to serve
as a messenger to Lord Tim. It was possible that he was an officer of some
kind; she had no way of knowing how the human regiments placed indications
of rank. He had not visibly taken offense, though, so she assumed her
request was deemed reasonable.

That was the drawback of associating with humans; humans liked walls, and
ceilings, and her people didn't. So she waited on the battlements, watching
the wind rustle grasses and tree branches. It had been some time since the
'messenger' had left; no matter. Tim appeared to be a very 'take-charge'
sort of leader, and could be damn well anywhere. And she was patient. Some
while later, her patience was rewarded; she could see him, and her
'messenger', climbing the wall-stairs to her position. Judging by the
'messenger's' stance and posture, he probably was an officer of some sort;
she made a mental note of his dress for future reference.

  "Greetings, Captain Nighthawk," said Tim. His face betraying nothing but a 
hint of friendliness. "How do you fare?"
  "Well enough, my lord," replied Nighthawk.
  "Good. You wished to speak with me?"

As usual when dealing with the burly human, Nighthawk smiled inside. All
prickly exterior, this one - no falseness. "Lives, Lord Tim," she replied. 
"I seek to save lives."
  "As do I," said Tim. "You see, I took a risk in upgrading my troops from 
cavalry to dragoons, from spearmen to knights, without permission from 
General Wang. In some cases, this could be considered treachery, even 
attempts at creating my own army. But we fight for Doma, and I am very clear 
on that all the time. Everything we do is for Doma.
  "But, as you seem to hold a pentient of doing, you are mysterious. What is 
it exactly you are speaking of?"

Ah, so little patience humans had for word play. She supposed it had
something to do with their short lifespans. "To the heart of the matter,
then, Lord Tim. The moogles now know of my people; it is a near-certainty. 
Although they did very well - better, to be honest, than I hoped - against 
the magitek armors, I lost a third of my mages and near to a third of my 
total force. I must adapt my people to this world if they are to be of use 
to either of us."
  "Yes, I am saddened at the loss of your people," said Tim. "It is a shame 
that their first major battle should deal out such a toll."

"Education, Lord Tim. My people have had centuries of training in their
specialties; air magic, priestly magic, and archery. In the latter two,
they far outstrip your own people's capabilities. Even our bow and crossbow 
construction are more advanced. But in all the other arts of war; 
swordfighting, hand-to-hand combat...my people are woefully inferior. Our 
magic, whether priestly or not, is of little use to you or to your men. But 
our archery could be invaluable to elements of your force. In exchange, I 
need your men to teach my soldiers those elements of your fighting and magic 
that they can use. In the next battle, I suspect many of my people will end 
up grounded, one way or another. I want them to have the option of living, 
as opposed to consigning their souls to the Lady in a blaze of fire."
  Tim stood a moment, resting on one leg, studying Nighthawk then looking 
out over the battlements. He held his chin as he thought.
  "You are very observent, Nighthawk, I will admit that. But you must 
remember that there is more to this world then meets the eye.
  "You see, there has been a long tradition of magic in this world. Why, 
even to the east there is a country filled with magicians. But the magic art 
does not come easily to humans, like anything. I had to pick up the sword 
one day and starting learning how to use it like any other warrior, and it 
took time to become good with it.
  "When I look at you and your people, I see a graceful, elegant race of 
beings. It was as if your goddess created you with the idea of angels in her 
mind, or so you seem to me and my people. Your grace is in your wings, and 
in your slender figures, and you lend this sleekness to your ability to fly 
and to handle bows.
  "But look here," said Tim. He had been wearing his uniform, a light blue 
buttoned up shirt. He lifted his right arm and flexed the muscle and made 
the fabric tight to demonstrate the thickness of his muscle. "My bicep is 
very large, because my parents were strong people and because I am always 
carrying and lifting heavy items. Your people on the other hand, you in 
fact," Tim indicated Nighthawk's arm, taking care to not actually touch her, 
"have very slender arms.
  "In human eyes, you appear weak, I am sorry to say. But there is a reason. 
Birds are not very strong, nor do they weigh much, since they must fly. A 
chocobo is like a bird, but it's wings are very small and it's body is very 
large and very heavy. And that is because it is used to running on the land. 
And I'll show you something else."
  Tim pulled out his sword and offered the hilt to Nighthawk. She took the 
proffered weapon with both hands and when Tim was sure she had a firm grasp, 
released it. The sword fell a few inches, but Nighthawk managed to keep it 
aloft, though the angle was very low.
  "How heavy is it?" asked Tim.
  "Very," replied Nighthawk. "But I have wielded heavier weapons then this."
  "And how about your warriors? Do you think they could wield a sword as 
easily as you?"
  Nighthawk studied the sword, then stared at Tim.
  "I see your point, my lord."
  Nighthawk offered the sword back to Tim. He took it in one hand and deftly 
sheathed it with no difficulty.
  "My people could teach your avariel how to fight with swords, Captain 
Nighthawk, but your people would be grounded and almost ineffectual with 
them. Your people are proud warriors from what I have seen, and they have 
developed fine skills. Do not feel that the battle yesterday was an ill omen 
of your warrior's fates. That was a difficult battle. We were outnumbered, 
and surprised. We are lucky we faired as we did."
  Nighthawk nodded slightly.
  "I still wish for me and my people to learn the skills your people have to 
offer."
"What skills would you learn? There is not time enough to teach every one of 
your people every skill we have."

"I do not ask for every skill. I ask that you teach the mages Bolt magic
and Ice magic. And I ask that you teach everyone else the Pummel and Air
Blade blitzes, since these would be closest to their own understanding.
Just this much, would be a great help."
  Tim nodded. "Alas, I doubt such can be done. We have no real magicians in 
my command at this point. We have white mage healers, and at least one black 
mage that I know of, but that is all. And the black mage was an apprentice 
before joining the war. He has not had much time to practice or expand his 
art.
  "As for the 'Blitz' techniques. That is a Figaro specialty, but something 
which I and several of my men know. However, it takes years to learn, and 
more importantly, is best for foot soldiers that are unarmed. However... I 
do think we can teach some of your warriors some of the training. One move 
in particular you might like, the aurabolt. However... it would take a year 
or so to learn such a thing, and I doubt the war would last that long. But I 
will see to the training being made available."
  Nighthawk nodded. "Very well."

"I will learn everything, Lord Tim. Every blitz, every spell, every sword 
technique. Wherever I have gone, I have learned everything there that I 
could learn before moving on. In my own world I learned powerful magics and 
the beginnings - quite difficult at first - of psionics. I travelled to 
Earth and perfected my psionic skills as well as expanding my grasp of 
magic, and martial arts. I travelled to the world of the Three Implementors 
and learned still more of combat and magic. Now I am here - I will learn all 
I may before moving on yet again."

Tim was quite taken aback at the recital of worlds, and wondered in a quiet 
corner of his mind just how old the being in front of him truly was. "And 
what do you offer in return for all of that?"

Nighthawk eyed him squarely this time, for she had to be direct and honest, 
yet convey just how serious the offer she made was. "Immortality, Lord Tim. 
If you survive the war and choose to take it - and I tell thee that many 
have been driven mad by it - I can offer thee immortality. An if thou 
choosest not to take that barbed pill, I can yet offer thee any one thing 
thy heart should desire, an it go not against the will of the gods of this 
world. For a god, I am not - just very, very well informed."

This was very much too much, thought Tim. Bringing his reason to bear, he 
could only assume that she was telling the literal truth; that not only was 
she not a god, but probably would be in just as much trouble as he himself 
would be should a god come calling. Which led to disturbing thoughts about 
the not-killing-Turan idea. And as for being immortal, well, she was 
specific in that it'd be *after* the war, when in all likelihood he wouldn't 
*need* immortality.
  Tim thought a moment then spoke.
  "You are strange, Captain Nighthawk, and you strike me more strange as the 
days go by, but I think I am beginning to understand you more and more. 
Also, my respect for you is increasing.
  "As for your offer, I choice is no. My reasons... I can't give any. But I 
really wish you had not spoken of such a subject, especially now. Captain 
Nighthawk, many people's lives are in the balance right now, and I cannot be 
thinking of my own at a time like this. If the times were different, and 
things different, I could give you a better answer, and maybe even accept. 
But I am a soldier, and a soldier for Doma. I must serve my king, serve my 
people, and serve the humanity of this world."
  Tim paused, unsure of what to say.
  "As for your offer of training my soldiers, my archers might appreciate 
any pointers you can give them. But keep in mind that my archers have 
trained for many years, and indeed most all are very skilled and adept with 
their bows. But your glass-arrowhead technique intrigues me, and might very 
well intrigue them. Teaching them such a technique might be very beneficial.
  "But I must depart now for an inspection. We will talk more later, Captain 
Nighthawk. And please feel free to call upon me if you wish to discuss ... 
more."
  Tim and Nighthawk saluted. Tim walked away, not sure of what to make of it 
all.

Nighthawk watched him go, feeling somewhat sad about the encounter. It
would be good for her people, who she hoped would live longer with the
increased training, but she could quite understand Tim's reluctance with
her own offer. In this world, it seemed immortality was just living to see 
more battles. And humans had proved to be the one species most likely to go 
mad when world-walking. But knowledge was all she had to offer, knowing for 
knowing. And to learn all he could know, he would have to become a 
world-walker. She did not doubt he would survive the war; this was the kind 
of world that bred heroes of incredible might. Whether, at the end of the 
war, he would see opportunity or boredom...well, that would be the final 
test.

(Lara, I hope you don't mind my sort of re-editing, re-writing of your post. 
But I think this works a bit better for the idea that I have of Tim.)

--Sky