Day One Thousand One Hundred And Eighty-Seven

Dear Diary,

Y'know, I know back during my Amnesiac Arc I wound up seeing Trolls as big beefy soldier dudes, but I never quite realized how accurate that shit was.

Okay, yeah, they're a 'Legion'. Okay, yeah, they are obviously very regimented and love them their hierarchy. Okay, yeah, I should have realized when Furtim had me do the whole gender...

Y'know, I'm not sure what I did, which mind you she asked for in almost the same way as my Trans Worshippers in New Amsterdam did, really qualifies as 'gender-affirming-care'. Like, yes, she wanted to have her body Shapeshifted to physically be a she-Troll body. But I'm not sure the Trolls have the same kind of gender expectations as more Human-Adjacent folks. I'm not sure she did it for any other reason than 'my species is dying because there are no females, and frogs and fish aside, we cannot auto-reassign'.

I mean, there's some really obvious sexual dimorphism going on with Trolls. Boy Trolls are big, dangerous motherfuckers, but Ericson, for example, was just as big as a Troll and, frankly, Stronger than them. Not sure about faster, and I'm fully prepared to believe that the average Troll has more Endurance, what with them regenerating. Shit, my brain just twigged to the fact that they must be fuckin' immortal too, because if fuckin' Beowulf killed the last she-Troll, every Troll in the Legion has been around at least a thousand years. Which means I really doubt Ericson had any Skill advantage either.

A thousand years in thrall... Shit, living as literal Battle-Thralls to a bunch of Jarls whose pinnacle of tactical prowess seemed to be 'think before you scream and leap'. Given out in penny packets by the King of Norfolk, who I guess was a direct descendant of Beowulf himself. Honestly, given his whole schtick of 'gets stronger the longer the fight goes on', that kinda tracks, maybe. Not that Beowulf had that specifically, but sure as shit the man had something going on if he not only beat a Troll to death with its own arm, but also killed a she-Troll in melee combat, because that 'sexual dimorphism' means that while he-Trolls are some big, dangerous motherfuckers, she-Trolls are...

Well, okay, the only one I've seen is Furtim. Who is ten feet of muscle, scales, and claws. Fuck, if she had wings I'd put her up against a Dragon and not even worry much. Shit, even without wings I'm pretty sure her versus a Wyvern would just be an interesting lunch delivery for her.

But the point I had is that the Trolls are in fact the closest thing I've seen to a tradition of professional military here and now. Don't get me wrong, the Phileo Volunteer units are no slouches, and the ones who have been active, in whole or in part, since the Founding War have come together into some seriously competent dudes. I never really got to see the Calverton Soldiers in action, not really. Heroes are, of course, a cut above for whatever reason. But none of them, even the Dragonslayers, are from what I'd call a 'professional military tradition'.

I'd forgotten what that meant, forgotten what kind of difference that could make. I mean, I vaguely remember my ROTC instructors talking about it, but I guess I'd never seen it in action; the closest anybody in my generation had seen was pro teams in shit like CoD, back when they were a thing.

And honestly, it's not even close.

The first time I got to see it in action was yesterday, and...

It started with the whole 'sunrise' thing. While the Thames Pirates are obviously awesome Sailors, and aren't half bad in a fight against normal, non-Heroic troops, they aren't exactly what you'd call 'fond of military discipline'. Furtim had made it clear that she was going in at first light the evening before, and she absolutely meant 'first light'. We arrived just before false dawn, and if the Trolls were still moving into position, looking the tiniest bit lethargic even, the moment false dawn hit they all snapped into formation like one big machine, then moved toward the mouth of the river. All except a few aboard the Conquering with Furtim and I, and the sails unfurled the moment before dawn.

Shit, I think there might have been a couple Trolls under the hull giving us a boost, because we pulled away from the allied fleet, Alliance and Thames Pirates both, while they were still shouting to their Sailors to wake up.

Yes, the Trolls had formed up in the water. When the surged forward, I realized that my scaly bois might or might not be at their best on dry land, because they pulled ahead of the Conquering, diving as they did, until the only reason I knew they were there was a faint disturbance on the surface. I stood there on the fore castle of Furtim's ship, watching that disturbance until one of the ships still in thrall to Leanan came into view. They weren't even awake yet, at least no more than a couple dudes leaning against the rail holding what looked like portable versions of Franklin Mana Lanterns.

I only noticed the Trolls surfacing because I knew where to look, mostly, and even so I didn't realize they'd nailed both lookouts with some kind of thrown weapon until both of them pitched forward into the water. I wasn't thrilled about that until I saw the second wave of Trolls to climb up the side of the ship carry both of them back aboard.

A few minutes later, the Conquering passed that ship as the Trolls were leaping back into the water. Furtim nodded at one of the Trolls aboard, then held up two fingers. When I looked back, one Troll stood at the bow of the ship, another at the stern, and nobody aboard seemed in a mood to argue with them.

One very important note, only two eight Troll squads, two Contubernium, had gone aboard. The rest of the Legion just kept advancing.

Ship by ship, all through the day, they just took apart the Pirates still loyal to Leanan. Some time before lunch we hit the first ship that wasn't mostly still sleeping; at a guess each successive ship had expected the ones before it to set off some kind of warning, and the Trolls were just too damned efficient. That one took three squads, the third going aboard when the first two seemed stalled. They still had the entire thing pacified by the time we pulled past them. The Decanus leading that boarding party kinda winced when Furtim held up three fingers, then held up two himself.

I didn't quite get it, because when we pulled away, there were still three Trolls aboard that ship. So, since she didn't seem like she needed to talk a lot to guide her army, I asked. "What's up with that 'two'?"

"Casualties."

I winced, because I'd begun to realize that the Trolls in my Legion were not only a finite resource, but a precious one too. Not because they were Trolls, but because they were, each of them, Legionnaires with at least a millennium of experience. "Oh. Oh, shit. Uh, I can Revive them?"

She frowned. "Not Fatalities."

It took me a second, because I couldn't think what kind of casualty would keep a Troll down; I'd seen them regrow Mana Bladed extremities, if slowly, and grow back entire quadrants of their body after I burned the Undead away from them. Then I realized.

"Not Trolls?"

Oh, the fuckin' look she gave me. A mix of 'who do you think we are' with 'do you think so little of us' with just a touch of 'like these amateurs stand a chance'. She didn't have to say anything, I winced just from that look.

Then the other shoe hit me. "Wait, you mean those were the first two... You didn't kill all the rest of the Pirates, did you?"

She shook her head. "Imperator's Rules of Engagement."

Kitten? What was the ROE for the Trolls here?

In the Grand Council chamber, Saffron shot me an arch look. Minimize enemy casualties. That's why they're carrying Cold Iron.

What else could I say, "two so far seems pretty fuckin' minimized."

She just grinned at me.

The rest of the day went like that, only with maybe a little more energy required for a few of the ships, because after that they all seemed on alert. Not that it mattered in most cases. The Pirates were totally outclassed, and none of them had Mana Blades, fire, or acid, and from what I could tell that's what it took to lay even meaningful temporary hurt on one of my Trolls.

The only exception was one ship where the Pirates had dudes with bows guarded by other dudes with shields. I didn't see the Decanus, but Furtim obviously knew he could see her. She lifted one hand, then pointed down before dropping her hand back to return to parade rest.

Less than a minute later, a cry went up from the ship. Then it lurched to one side. Not long after the Pirates started dropping their weapons and diving overboard, swimming for all they were worth.

Fortunately for them, the Trolls were still doing 'minimized casualties', which meant they got unceremoniously dumped on the shore. I guessed after being slapped with whatever Cold Iron the Trolls were carrying, because each of them just kind of sat or laid there, staring into nothing.

The ship itself wound up nothing but a pair of masts sticking out of the water, with one Troll lazily clinging to each.

Late in the afternoon, we saw the London Fortress. I kinda think it may have been where London Bridge was back in the day, but I really wasn't an expert in American Geography, let alone European, so I got no clue. What I did see was a massive pile of stone on either side of the river, with a big stone arch crossing between them, high enough for most of the Pirates to sail under it. 

I didn't think our Tentacles would fit, but then they're on the beefy side, at least for ships here and now.

The town itself was mostly upstream of the fortress, but even where we were a kind of shanty town lined both sides of the river.

When Furtim held up one hand clenched into a fist, the Conquering slewed sideways and dropped an anchor from each end. I looked up at her. "The Conquering's cannon can't punch holes in it?"

She shrugged. "Casualties." If I hadn't just seen them work their way up the Thames like it weren't no thing, I'd have called her on maybe being kinda overconfident. But then she asked, "ROE Change?"

I took a deep breath. Thought about it. "Did you need one?" She just snorted. "Okay then. These poor assholes are mind-controlled. Only exception are any Sidhe; if you see them, call in one of our Shapers; we don't want them putting a whammy on one of our Legionnaires, because I don't think they'd be as easy to stop."

She nodded. "Fair."

At that point I heard a sound that made me tense up and have to stop Mana Blades from extruding. I hadn't heard a single massive catapult fire in a long time. I glanced around, but my Legion's Prefect knew her business; the massive projectile only made it about halfway to us, where it splashed into the river.

Unfortunately, it then lit the surface of the water on fire. Furtim turned to me, the slightest tension in her voice as she said, "Legate?"

I threw up a river-wide Ward against Fire before I asked, "You can't do Wards?"

She shrugged. "No Shaping. Just Boons."

I blinked. "You know you could just give yourself the ability to Ward as a Boon, right?"

She winced , and I swear she sounded sheepish when she said, "oops."

"So, you wanna come back to the Homestead tonight?"

She looked kinda torn, but then shook her head. "Not in contact with the enemy."

"Fair." As I collapsed the rest of me back to the Conquering, I thought, Ladies? I'm gonna be staying with Furtim tonight.

May we watch?

Siobhan! I heard from her giggle that she'd been half kidding, teasing that reaction out of me, not to mention a surprisingly green blush out of Furtim. She's not leaving her troops, and I'm not leaving her while she's leading them, k?

Ah, well. The two of you looked so cute last night.

At that point Saffron thought, casualties today?

I thought about it for a second. Eighteen, I think.

Correct, Furtim confirmed.

Excellent work. Prefect Furtim Cauda?

Imperator?

Would you like us to continue watching your little ones?

Please, Imperator.

Of course. Also, I hope you'll join us at the Homestead for a celebration when your mission is complete?

By your command, Imperator.

Kinda weird synchronicity there, but I mostly ignored it.

Shortly after that, Anne's flagship pulled up just downstream of us. She called out, "hail the Conquering Tentacle!"

I stepped over, reached out a hand, and stepped back when she took it. "Now we don't have to shout."

With her higher vantage point, not to mention without the Conquering in the way, she could see why we'd stopped. "Impressive Ward."

"Thanks."

She shook her head, then nodded to the flames coating the water. "That's going to make the castle an even tougher nut to crack. Either we fight through the shantytown, or we risk burning when we sail further upstream."

I looked to Furtim, who just shrugged. I leaned against her and said, "I trust my Prefect."

Yeah, she's cute when she blushes, even when she's also puffing up with pride and trying to look like she's not.

Anne visibly steeled her nerves, then stepped over a little closer. "How many Trolls did you lose today?"

Furtim just snorted, but in the interests of diplomacy I said, "none, I don't think."

Anne closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again and said, "that's mildly terrifying, you realize?"

Furtim smiled and said, "thank you."

After asking if I needed help with the Warding, Anne asked for a ride back to her ship, which I provided. For what it was worth, she did have her crew lower some boats over the side and put some kind of netting across the river, then draped what looked like a sail over that. I doubted it would hold back the fire for long, but if my Ward went down it might make the difference between somebody reacting fast enough and not, so I didn't say anything about it.

I stood watch with Furtim for the rest of the night, keeping that Ward up as the castle threw cask after cask of that Greek fire at us. Some time around midnight I brought two big tentacles in and gently shoved everything back about twenty feet from the banks of the river, because the edges of the shanty town had caught fire. Fortunately the firebreak and a couple big Create Waters put paid to that.

Not long after that, either they ran out of Greek fire or they'd realized they were in more danger than we were.

As I felt the sun nearing the horizon, before it even started to paint the eastern horizon, I turned to Furtim and asked, "so, another assault at first light?"

She just smiled down at me. Clearly waiting for my Heroic yet clearly nowhere near as military brain to catch up with hers. As the first bits of light colored the sky, I realized she was holding back laughter.

"No."

She grinned, which is a hell of a look on somebody with teeth like hers. "Yes."

The sun rose over the horizon. Every flagpole atop London Castle flew the same flag, a single broad green stripe between two white ones.

The same flag flying from the top of the Conquering's mast.