347 Efficient Tactics

"This plan is ridiculous," Victorius frowned. "It definitely doesn't sound like one of Tanamar's. What is Bannok thinking?"

Tycondrius took a deep breath to calm himself. There was no benefit in him arguing against the professional porter's complaints other than to feel intellectually superior.

The fact would remain true, regardless of whether or not he flaunted it.

"I'm goin' in!!" Tancred yelled, "Follow me!!"

⟬ Tancred Mors, Iron-Rank Human Reaver. Guild Stormbrand. ⟭

"Victorius," Tycon gestured. "Take care of Miss Athena."

"You got it, Sir Tycon," Victorius tried to immediately respond with a salute, wincing in pain, before withdrawing clumsily.

Hm. Interesting. The results of the footman's training showed for a brief second.

"Hold on! I'm coming!" Karodin yelled, trailing several steps behind Tancred.

⟬ Karodin, Bronze-Rank Human Legionnaire. Guild Brazen Guard. ⟭

As many members as the Stormbrands had, they still lacked a defensive class. To combat the creature deemed as a Frost-Tail, Karodin of Emberhold was assigned to them. Reasonably, the shield-wielding Legionnaire would have been the most ideal combatant to engage first.

The Stormbrands were... not so keen on the minutiae of efficient tactics.

Simultaneously, several Forward Groups moved to engage with the Frost-Tails, each centered around Iron-Rank close-combat classes. In case of an attack by the numerous Stone Frogs, the Bronze-Ranks in the Forward Groups were to thin the wave. Rear Groups composed of ranged classes were defending the noncombatants in the back line, amongst which Athena and Victorius remained in relative safety.

Ultimately, the encounter was to be a display of which of the groups worked together effectively, so the Brazen Guard's leadership could reallocate and adjust. The Stormbrands seemed to understand that...

Perhaps offended by the concept, they seemed to take it as a challenge to outperform their peers.

Tycon was not surprised. The Stormbrands did not have a declared 'leader.' It should have been Tanamar, since he seemed to be the one that arranged most-everything. However, his brother, Tancred Mors, had a stronger personality.

Tancred was an arrogant gladiator with gaudy clothing, a loud, obnoxious voice, and a style for arena flair that bordered around ostentatious. Naturally, the Stormbrands' teamwork would revolve around him. He was too selfish to work around others.

Tycon moved up with Zenon and Tanamar to engage from range. The four-legged Frost-Tail was a greyish, quadrupedal creature that stood twice as tall as a human. It thrashed about, trying to swipe jagged claws at Tancred, trying to bite at him with tooth and tusk. The Reaver responded by dancing and leaping about like an acrobatic whore-- also forcing the creature to turn its body...

...which turned its dangerous, prehensile tail towards a majority of the Stormbrands.

That had potential to be troublesome.

Thankfully, before anyone took a Gold-Rank tail swipe, Karodin's shield and pilum finally proved annoying enough to divert the creature's attention.

With the Frost-Tail standing in one place, Tanamar signaled for the Stormbrand ranged line to commence fire.

Holy Lancer Tanamar was firing glowing arrows half the size of ballista bolts from a sturdy, lightly enchanted longbow. Librarian Zenon began casting painful-looking wind spells. Amateur Archer Tycon began firing freely with his medium crossbow, utilizing a reload tool to quickly and efficiently reset the mechanism.

The Frost-Tail's natural mana shielded its eyes from attack, common for stronger creatures. Tycon remained diligent, placing well-aimed shots at the creature's vulnerable eyes and mouth. The creature's mana would run out eventually, and faster than if his bolts were deflected by the creature's stony hide.

An unexpected headbutt from the stone-skinned Frost-Tail sent Legionnaire Karodin staggering back, barely avoiding being gored by a tusk.

"Heal!!" He called out, again dashing forward to re-engage.

Tycon frowned, feeling sorry for the armored fellow. The Stormbrands were not a group where in-combat healing was reliable. If he were closer, he would have advised the Legionnaire to back off and look for another opening to rush in. After all, Tancred looked like he could use a lesson in humility.

For a moment second, Tycon felt the ground rumble beneath him. Tanamar had taken several steps to the left, not even taking a moment to stop firing his longbow. Tycon grabbed the back of Zenon's armor and began pulling him back.

One of the Stormbrand archers wasn't paying attention. Tycon took a hand off his crossbow to yank the fool's collar, dropping them onto their back. Not a half-second later, several magical rock pillars jutted out from the ground, blocking the ranged line's vision. Anyone several steps forward would have been trapped. The archer Tycon had grounded would have been impaled.

"What the hells?!" The archer complained as he got to his feet, "Flame take you, man!!"

Tycon furrowed his brows, glancing back at the spike-pillars in front of them. He did not feel like he deserved such a response.

The ranged classes of the Stormbrands began to reposition to the left with Tanamar... with Tycon being the only one moving right. It was explained earlier that dispersion was desirable, to prevent being caught in the creature's area spells.

He stood alone. Had... he understood incorrectly?

The Frost-Tail was taking damage. None of the Stormbrands were dead or dying. Still... the fight seemed... sloppy.

Tycon checked his fire, seeing a leaping attack enter his field of vision.

"DEEEEECAPITAAAATIONNNN!!!" A Stormbrand in a dark coat yelled, the crazed fool crossing the line of fire as he swung his long, curved warscythe at the Frost-Tail.

⟬ Occam, Iron-Rank Human Cleric. Guild Stormbrand. ⟭

Occam's weapon a superficial cut along the side of the Frost-Tail's neck. The creature, again, whipped its head to the side, smashing into the Cleric and sending the idiot tumbling several yalms onto rocks and dirt.

Tycon resumed his shooting, trying his best to ignore the Cleric's nonsensical actions. Trying to decipher the fellow's line of reasoning would only make his head hurt.

"Wow! This bastard's pretty strong! Har har haaah!!" Occam laughed, kneeling dramatically and wiping his bloodied nose. "⌈Healing!!! Touuuuch!!!⌋"

Tycon watched as Occam swept a hand through his raven-black hair, a divine glow shrouding him for a brief moment.

The Cleric healed himself.

Karodin would not be getting healed anytime soon.

Tycon was annoyed. He wasn't surprised, but he was annoyed.

A few more casts Rings of Pillars later, the Frost-Tail had received a substantial amount of damage. Tycon's had placed five crossbow bolts into the creature's left eye, each of them piercing through its weakened mana barrier.

Karodin was looking miserable, injured but alive. A few Stormbrands were lying about-- mostly somewhere near where Tancred was fighting, injured and hopefully dead.

...If a majority of them died, Tycon wondered if he could ask to be assigned to a different group.