B4 Chapter 41: Battle Trance

The examinations began simply enough. Individual orcs were isolated from the group to be examined, each one under appropriately heavy guard. Marcus watched as their limbs were poked, prodded and measured, each accompanied by a hurried scribble on a tablet or scroll. He wasn't entirely certain what the Legionnaires were looking for, but he figured that Gaius didn't order such things without reason.

The Legatus himself stepped toward Grund. "Before we proceed further, I will have you answer a few preliminary questions. First, describe to me your skills."

Marcus blinked at the abruptness of the question. Such a thing was not only rude to ask about, but also a matter of survival. Maintaining the privacy of one's skills could allow them to maintain a great deal of advantages, especially in the case of combatants.

But Grund didn't bat an eye. "Of course. The first is [Battle Lust], albeit in an altered form. It is now called [Battle Trance]."

Gaius's eyes narrowed. "Is that an evolution?"

"Yes. When the cleansing flame of knowledge enlightened my people, it endowed us with the wisdom to control our more base urges and bestial desires. This control is reflected in the skill's alteration. None who failed to achieve such control survived."

The idea still caused Marcus a bit of discomfort. Grund didn't seem to consider the fatalities of the spell plague to be any particular loss. It was as though he spoke of a forest fire culling dead wood rather than the near-total massacre of his race. Then again, it was consistent with how he regarded the so-called "old ways".

Maybe the whole "flame" imagery meant he could convert them all to worshippers of Apollo. Given time.

Grund continued. "The skill is shared by all of my kind. We are unable to remove it even if we wished to. The rest were chosen individually."

Grund went down the list, naming each skill and giving a brief description of what it did. Most were combat-related, as one might expect, though Grund's particular skills placed a particular emphasis on grappling and hand-to-hand combat. He also had a few skills related to leadership and tactics, as well as one particularly ominous one called [Brutal Demise]. It was apparently a finisher that worked off of intelligence and charisma rather than strength---something that Marcus had never heard of.

He filed that piece of information away for later. While Gaius didn't seem to take particular interest in it, maybe it was something Marcus himself could make use of.

Gaius nodded, glancing at the furiously scribbling aide beside him. "I see. Are your choices representative of your people's general inclinations?"

"Not particularly, no. While all retain some skills related to battle, their inclinations remain directed toward the use of overwhelming force, not necessarily its direction." Grund smiled apologetically. "Though that is something we are working to remedy. Simply controlling [Battle Trance] has allowed us to make great strides in that regard, though we still have quite some way to go. Additionally, all have picked up at least one skill related to a craft, productive vocation, or other generally useful area such as [Sewing] or [Cooking]. I insisted on it. Though the newness of these skills and the associated activities mean they remain quite low in level."

"Hmmm." Gaius looked the calm orc over as he thought. "Why did you insist that they take such skills?"

"Because we have so much to learn. Such areas are historically underdeveloped in our culture. Even the majority of the tools we have used in the past are merely scavenged and taken from the fallen, used until they are little more than rusted scraps and frayed threads. Those few orcs who did make tents and simple stone tools often did so in spite of their kin rather than because of them."

That was no surprise. Even their brief time travelling together had convinced Marcus of that. The first time that one of the orcs attempted to cook had made him pray to Apollo for all of their sakes.

The god had just laughed. Fortunately, he hadn't been forced to eat the "stew." He and Abel had stuck to travel rations after that.

Between that and the whole "sleeping on the ground under the open sky" thing, it seemed the orcs were practically helpless when it came to anything outside of fighting. Though they more than made up for it in battle.

Gaius nodded in grudging approval. "A proper army cannot survive without utility skills. Combat ability is irrelevant if one can't even reach the site of the battle. Much less for the more mundane parts of a soldier's life and duties."

Grund cocked his head. "You speak as though fighting is a small part of your army's work."

"It is." Gaius said. "A vanishingly small one."

The orc fell silent, then nodded slowly. "I see. It seems that I have even more to learn than I suspected."

They spoke for a while longer about the various capabilities of the orcs. Gaius then turned to an evaluation of Grund's mental abilities, speaking at length with the orc about all sorts of tactical ideas and theoretical battle situations. Marcus wasn't exactly sure what kind of criteria Gaius was looking for the orc to meet, here. But considering how they continued to go back and forth, trading ideas like small coins, it certainly seemed that Grund was succeeding.

Marcus scanned about for one of the less busy Legionnaires he recognized and sidled up to him with a smile. "Cassius."

"Marcus." The Legionnaire flashed him a grin before returning to a more appropriately serious demeanor. "I see you're up to no good as usual."

"I haven't the slightest what you mean."

Cassius chuckled. "I hope you at least got some good stories out of these greenskins."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Fewer than you'd think." Marcus sighed. "Apparently, stories haven't been in vogue among their people until recently. Though they did quite enjoy the telling of Romulus and Reumus."

"You shared that one?"

"Of course. It's become part of my standard repertoire. Although I did make some embellishments that I'd like to run by you."

Cassius grinned again. A snippet of Gaius's conversation drifted over to them.

"...That strategy wouldn't possibly work," Gaius was saying. "Your men would be exhausted by the time they got into position."

"Forgive me, Legatus. You instructed me to respond as though the situation had befallen 'my forces', who I would assume to be made up of my comrades."

"Even then, such a timeline beggars belief. I cannot simply trust that you'd be capable of keeping it without seeing it myself."

"Would you prefer then that I model my answers off of the capabilities of your own men?" Grund queried. "If so, I will need to better understand what they are. While I have faced you Romans in battle, there remain a great many holes in my comprehension."

There was a pause. "Let's move on..."

Marcus turned back to Cassius. "You seem oddly relaxed about all this."

The Legionnaire shrugged. "Don't see why I shouldn't be. Conquered folks join the auxiliaries all the time. It's how I joined."

"Really? You never told me that?"

"Because it hardly matters." Cassius gestured around them. "These are my brothers more than my blood relatives ever were. I don't trust the greenskins as far as I can throw them---" he paused as one of the orcs hurled a rather sizable boulder a hundred feet across the yard. "---Or maybe I should say, as far as they can throw me. But if they prove themselves, then Rome will be better for it."

They fell silent as they continued watching. Marcus was content to stay on the sidelines once again. This was Gaius's operation to run, and butting in could be seen as a bit disrespectful. The Legatus himself wouldn't mind, of course, but there were appearances to keep. Besides, most of his more pressing questions had already been answered during their travels.

He instead watched the other orcs around them as they continued to go through their own tests, both physical and mental. Based on their own responses to some officers' questions, the other orcs weren't blessed with quite the same level of intelligence as their leader was. But it was still a marked improvement over where they had been. He really wished he could see what their intelligence stats looked like now.

Marcus was beginning to turn his attention to his own compositions when Gaius's words caught his ear. "Well, then. I believe that is enough for now. However, I also need to get an idea of your combat abilities."

Marcus watched Gaius nod to the Legionnaires. The encirclement opened and the entire group moved toward a line of training dummies. The Legatus pointed. "Demonstrate on that target."

Grund nodded. "With all due respect, Legatus, I believe it would be more prudent to have one of my comrades demonstrate instead. My abilities are more suited to a living, moving enemy than those of the others."

Gaius waved dismissively. "Choose who you'd like. Though we will test all of you individually anyway."

The orc nodded gratefully. He looked the dummy up and down. "Do you have more of these?"

"Plenty. Though they are sturdier than they look."

"Good." Grund turned to one of his comparatriots and nodded. "Nox. If you will."

The orc named Nox nodded. He was a tall, lithe orc, with corded muscles that stood out starkly along his partially emaciated frame. A series of loops at his belt hung empty where small throwing axes usually hung.

Marcus watched alongside the others as the orc approached the practice dummy. His gaze lingered on the glowing fox brand curled around his bicep. A common tattoo among their number, although with slight variations. It was one matter the orcs had remained strangely tight-lipped about so far. Though Marcus hadn't pushed too hard. Not yet.

Nox took a deep breath. His fist lashed out at the target's center, smashing through the straw padding to splinter the thick log below.

"That is without [Battle Trance]." Grund clarified. "Now with the skill active."

Nox stepped back and centered himself once again, closing his eyes. The orc's entire body seemed to swell, his muscles growing as though filling with water. His frame bulged until the orc began to resemble some of his late brethren in sheer size, though he remained uncharacteristically still.

His eyes suddenly flashed open. Nox blurred, his feet barely disturbing the sand as his fist appeared in the target. The dummy exploded in a hail of splinters and straw. When the dust cleared, only a jagged stump was left.

A few of the Legionnaires had to keep their eyebrows from crawling off their foreheads. Marcus remained completely unruffled, acting as though the display were merely expected. Though internally, he was seriously reconsidering his actions up to this point.

Nox remained in place. His muscles trembled with exertion. Marcus could feel the barely-restrained violence rolling off the orc in waves. Glowing red eyes scanned the crowd around him, assessing the Legionnaires as though they were prey.

"Stop."

Grund's command snapped through the air more sharply than the blow had. Nox forced his eyes closed and inhaled deeply through his nose. Then, his muscles began to deflate.

It took a few minutes for the orc to calm down. But slowly, Marcus felt the rage leave him. It was over.

Nox stood there panting, clearly exhausted by the ordeal. Grund nodded in approval and began to explain what had just happened.

"The skill is now controllable, although it takes a great toll. Maintaining it requires less effort, yet it is no longer self-sustaining as [Battle Lust] was. Entering and exiting it inflicts severe exhaustion. Fighting in this state also consumes quite a bit of fuel in the form of body mass."

Grund glanced toward Nox's trembling form. "Given our current situation, we refrain from utilizing it outside of extreme circumstances, since we lack food to replenish our energy or body mass."

Marcus saw Gaius weigh the orc's words and implied request. He could tell that Gaius wasn't entirely willing to send one of his men closer, especially not after that.

Before he had a chance to decide against it, Marcus stepped forward with the last of his remaining travel rations in hand. "Here. It won't taste the best, but it's better than your friend's cooking."

Nox didn't even have the energy to do more than nod. He tore into the hard bread and dried meat with gusto. Within a minute, he looked back to his normal self.

Grund offered Marcus a nod of appreciation. "Fortunately, my kind's constitution is quite impressive. We are able to recover quickly, provided we have resources to do so. Without the, ahem, plentiful resources that the more brutish of my kind thrived on, this too can be seen as a limitation."

"I assume this is also a limitation to your population growth?" Gaius asked.

"Indeed." The lead orc responded. "Without such limitations, raising an army for your emperor in a year is well within the realm of possibility. Perhaps less. Though we have yet to see how many of our offspring shall share our more... enlightened characteristics."

Marcus looked at the remains of the dummy and shivered. It was only wood, of course. He'd seen plenty of Legionnaires cut those things down before. But that was usually when utilizing a skill, and always with some sort of weapon. Not bare-handed.

Having an army of these monsters at their back... What exactly had he just dropped into Tiberius's lap?