279 Numbers

Tycondrius traveled with the mountain factions for most of the way, finishing the journey with a short flight, courtesy of Virgilia. He sought for about a bell of time, prior to the main body's arrival.

The orange horizon promised a cool, refreshing evening. Most of Tycon's recent allies could see well with little to no light. The humans could not.

Tycon as "Duplicarius Zehr" returned to the Rhodoks alone, carrying the Centurion's helmet as proof of his service. He reported the obliteration of both the forward group and their accompanying tent groups.

The remaining Rhodok leadership was devastated but... unsurprised.

News spread quickly that he'd be passing word to the company-- that Tycon would be relaying the Centurion's final wishes. Of that, they wrongly assumed.

Everyone was to gather for accountability, a rote gathering that no military-minded individual would question. In large military groups like the Tyrion military, and by extension, the Rhodok adventuring company, their most important resource was people. Accountability was a way of life-- knowing the location of your resources was integral to utilizing them.

Tycon was informed that many injured Rhodoks would be unable to attend the formation. As such, he volunteered to check the infirmaries, himself.

...

Tycon and Scout Placidus checked the medical tents, thankfully cordoned off from those of the dead.

There were enough tents and few enough Rhodoks that Shield Maiden Gianna had her own, personal tent.

"Seven in the medical tents, Duplicarius," Placidus saluted. "Eight, including Shield Maiden Gianna."

"Check again. Memorize their names," Tycon glared through his visor. "I will be checking on Munifex Gianna, myself."

"Hah. I'll leave you two alone, then," the injured scout went off, wearing a suspicious smirk. "You know Gianna has a very particular reputation. Enjoy."

...What was that about?

Tycon adjusted his armor, allowing the metallic sounds to announce his presence, "Gianna, it's me."

"I know," Gianna's low voice called out from within her tent. "Come inside, Duplicarius."

Entering her tent, Tycon found the woman out of her cot-- sitting on her footlocker, wrapped in a dark blanket. She stared up at him quietly, like she was expecting something.

...He'd begin by stating the obvious.

"I came to see you."

"I know..." Shield Maiden Gianna whispered. She averted her gaze, "Did... did Justus make it?"

Word traveled fast. Gianna would rightfully be in mourning, knowing her young husband-- or fiancee, as it were, was killed.

"He did not," Tycon shook his head...

She continued to... stare at him? He offered more, to fill the silence, "I gave him an offer to escape with me. He decided to stay and fight."

Gianna's voice raised in pitch, "Tell me truthfully... is it possible he's still alive?"

That was rather direct.

"It is not. Justus is dead."

The Shield Maiden sighed and... chuckled ruefully to herself... "How about you come closer, Zehr."

...Peculiar. Tycon didn't sense any malice in Gianna's request, so he approached as requested.

Gianna reached an arm out of her blanket, pulling him close. Her other arm was no longer in an earth plaster cast but was bandaged and hung in a sling.

But with the blanket slipping off of her shoulders...

Tycon frowned, "Where are your clothes, Gianna?"

"It's you I want, Zehr," She whispered as she wrapped her long, muscular legs around Tycon's waist. "Can you feel how much I want you?"

Tycon furrowed his brows underneath his visor. He could feel the seductress' loins, stiflingly hot, pressed against his groin. The woman was in heat.

"I can," Tycon admitted.

"Good, haha..." Gianna smirked. She hooked Tycon's head with her functional arm and pulled him down, lapping her tongue at his lips, "I was afraid of what I'd do if I couldn't have you."

Tycon glanced over to see an unsheathed dagger on a nearby table, beside a wrap of bandages, ���I can see that."

"I want you to comfort me, Zehr. My 'husband' was just killed and I am in *desperate* need of you," She whispered, nibbling on his bottom lip.

With a coy smile, Gianna's voice gained sudden forcefulness, "Now, take off that helmet. And everything else."

"...Right."

Tycon took off his helmet as he undimmed his vision.

"S-snake?" Gianna's gaze widened as she recoiled back in sudden fear. Within seconds, blood spilled from her mouth, down her naked chest. She choked on her own blood, unable to breathe or scream.

Tycon picked up the fallen blanket and wrapped the naked woman with it, soaking up her life essence. Picking her up, he laid her back in her cot and checked her pulse.

Dead.

Good. He didn't want to make any more of a mess than he had.

He didn't quite understand the Shield Maiden's motives... but that was a mystery he didn't care to unravel.

"Rest now, young lady. I'll be checking with the others," Tycon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before exiting the tent.

...

Tycondrius carried a lithe form, wrapped in a blanket to the Rhodok nighttime accountability formation.

There were supposed to be thirty-seven of them. When everyone had been gathered, there were twenty-five, sleep-deprived, miserable, and mostly injured Rhodoks... Three had died. 'Nine' were in too critical a condition to join the formation... or escape.

Tycon mentally arranged the numbers to account for Gianna's death. Twenty-five 'able' Rhodoks. Eight injured. Four dead. The numbers matched Optio Sixtus' reports of thirty-seven.

He was surprised there were no deserters, as the situation seemed rather bleak. However... the Rhodoks did have an excellent reputation, paid rather well, and it was likely that those who remained incorrectly assumed that they were safe from attack.

After Tycon counted the Rhodoks' numbers and was able to visually confirm their presence, he unwrapped the bundle in his arms to reveal... a harpy. Virgilia awoke, refreshed from a short nap.

Unveiled to the stunned humans, she began to sing.

Siren Virgilia had developed a rather nasty Vocal skill she lazily named ⌈Siren Song⌋. A few affected humans began to fall to the ground screaming, bashing their heads against the rocks, one unsheathed a dagger and tried to bore it into his ear... then into his eyes, for whatever reason. One began to strip off their armor. More than one began to attack whoever was closest to them...

None of the humans were having a good time.

Then the dwarves came. And the fat raccoon gang. And a rather hesitant cave troll. And Stephanis, the Idiot.

And the one-sided slaughter commenced.