Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 488

Any smart mercenary wants to observe the battlefield before a battle starts. Marceline was no exception. 'Meet the Butcher at the corral at midnight.' was not something most people would feel comfortable with. Marcy, doubly so. She wasn't scared, just wary. She'd been in far worse spots while growing up on the streets and running with the local gangs. At twelve, she'd joined her first gang, mainly to be out of the house and away from her stepfather. By thirteen she was running that gang, and by fourteen, she had taken over three other gangs in the area and the small rumbles for territory were getting serious.

Getting cut in Genesis might hurt, but the pain left quickly and you could from almost anything overnight. So different from even the minor wounds she'd taken for real. She'd been injured so many times that she was on a first-name basis with all the late-shift nurses at the emergency clinic where she and the girls went to be patched up. They paid cash and used fake names. Leaving a trail of information was never good.

It was one of those nurses, Carlos, who'd tried to steer her gang into something better than fights over who got to extort money and meals from the food trucks in her territory. She hadn't trusted Carlos one bit. She didn't like social workers or save-the-world types. Carlos turned out to be neither. He was an intern working long hours at the clinic and hoping to get into medical school. That took more money than emergency clinics pay nurses. To afford tuition, he went after the bigger money by playing online games with a gang of his own working as guns-for-hire to anyone with real dollars. But he needed a larger operation to break into the big time in the new game, and for that, he needed soldiers.

Marceline's gang fit the bill: underage, broke, and with the youthful stamina that would let them play 12 hours a night. Using older gaming gear they became known in certain circles as a group that gave no shits and would fight all night long, not caring about the loot, only their paycheck. As the bigger money moved to the online games that needed pods, Carlos got a deal on a couple of dozen Famco MKIII pods and his underage soldiers moved into new realms. The bigger MMOs were gone, but for the best merc groups, there was money to be made in the smaller games run for the ultra-wealthy. The Genesis came out, and everything changed. The money dried up unless a merc outfit could afford the new MKVII pods. That was money they didn't have, but Carlos had a plan.

Their age was key to his plan. Pods were available for schools that taught using virtual reality programs. The price varied by the level of income in the school's area. Marcy and Carlos had poured over the paperwork for a week and then applied for two dozen pods for their new school. They found a building and rented the upper levels for the low price of keeping all the other gangs away from the businesses on the first floor. The second floor was filled with old-fashioned classrooms and desks, just for show. The third floor would house the pods, and the fourth floor was turned into a barracks for the gang. Few of the girls in her gang ever went home, preferring the safety the gang provided. Living in one place, with running water and power would be a huge upgrade for most of them. Carlos moved away from running anything online and became the face of the school. Marcy took over running the outfit.

She was surprised that the plan worked, and the pods showed up, along with two techs to run the wires and do the full installation, a doctor to do the initial health exams of the students and a social worker who had a lot of questions. Carlos spent a nervous two hours explaining how he was anxious to give these girls a place to live, and get them off the streets and into school. The social worker spent some time talking to the girls and the doctors. And then they left. An exhausted Carlos explained things the best he could.

"They insist that you spend four hours a day on schoolwork. After that, they want you in the pods for four more hours, doing anything. They say it will be good for your health."

Marcy didn't like the sound of that. "Hard to finish a big run in four hours."

"No, a minimum of four hours. I don't think they care how long you stay in, as long as you get a little exercise and eat two full meals a day."

"Well, damn. We've got taco trucks on the street and three places for takeout in the building. Let's get a refrigerator and a microwave in the barracks. That takes care of the food. Exercise takes care of itself when we run the streets. Any girl not on a run will be out in groups keeping our territory and recruiting."

With a stable place to live, new pods, and a contract from ACME corporation, Marceline's Man-Eaters moved into Genesis. She'd been fighting ever since, except for two hours a day for working out, and three hours watching Sailor Scout videos. She had her priorities, after all. Genesis had been good for her and her outfit. She and the girls had spent every hour they could grinding out levels, farming resources, and researching to find the optimal builds. She'd kept contact with other merc groups and slowly built up both her own group, and the larger mercenary guild. Some of the groups got screwed by people or corps. That stopped when they joined the guild and she took over negotiations. She had one hard and fast rule: Screw the Mercenary Guild over even once, and you not only found yourself blacklisted but the Guild would actively work against you in the game. On Baron down south had tried paying slow and found all his herds missing and barns on fire. He paid up and paid extra for them to stop the 'Bandit Raids' on his land. It was a good example for others.

ACME had almost found themselves on the wrong side of the Guild. She'd been furious when after all the bullshit her guys had put up with down south, Vernon had screwed up big time. She'd told him they should start moving that gold as soon as he found the treasure room. Then a payment from ACME had come late, with a bullshit letter from someone in HR about needing more paperwork and reports. She was just about to pull the trigger on ACME when she got the email from 'Baron William' and started talking with him. They hit it off pretty well, with a shared hatred of Vernon Brockmeyer. Things moved fast after that. She'd met with the ACME bigwigs, got to threaten Vernon, and inked a new contract with Billy.

And that had led her to the little piss-ant town of Sedgewick, supposedly one of the worst backwaters in the game, with a lot of contradicting information and rumors swirling around it. She'd been pleased to hell when she arrived and found the town much bigger than reported, with several guilds of high-level players, a half dozen dungeons, and lots of ways to get in trouble. Her guys were relaxing and retraining along with helping the newer recruits. The only thorn in her side was once again Vernon Brockmeyer. The man was so incompetent that it made her weep and scream. Getting him in shape and up to at least Level 6 hadn't gone well at all. At least until she brought in experts in power leveling. Their methods were crazy and cruel at the same time, and she totally approved. They were back on schedule and she'd gotten to see Vern die horrific deaths several times. Payback for the crap he'd ordered her squads to do fighting to keep control of the lizards.

And all of that led her to stand in a deserted part of town looking at a series of corrals with a few curious sedge beasts looking at her. Nothing looked too suspicious if you ignored the smell of old blood from a stump where thousands of cattle had met their end, and someone had put four pells in the ground, wooden logs seven foot high, for sword practice. She leaned a polearm, greatsword, and claymore against the fence and sat on a post waiting for the Butcher to show up for his lessons. He walked into the area a few moments later with three other people, carrying two beer kegs. She recognized the Barmaid along with the two people who'd done such a great job on Vernon. But she was curious about the kegs.

"You thought this was a party? We're going to be drilling, not drinking."

The Barmaid pointed to one keg. "Healing beer. It will keep you going longer. The other is cider. We call it Apple Kickass. Works like an energy drink for stamina. We don't sleep a lot, and we train all night long when no one is watching."

"Fine. Let's get to work then. We'll beat each other up and then heal. If anyone calls 'HOLD', we stop fighting. Pull out that big hunk of unbalanced metal and I'll show you why you should be using a greatsword or claymore."

Ozzy pulled out his confiscated Hog Splitter. "It's not a choice. Contract Worker rules. Doesn't matter how much we train. We literally can't use normal weapons, but we've found a few edge cases. My flensing hatchets are for carving blubber off of whales and fat dragons. Suzette can use darts and certain daggers. Rolly has...well, I'll let him show you. Ben's the closest to a swordsman we have, and uses an estoc along with a whip and hand-crossbow."

"Yeah, those sound like edge cases. Outside of video games, it was only used a couple hundred years, mostly as a backup lance from horseback, or if a night got tossed off his mount."

Ben grinned, "And that's pretty much how I use it. Lousy at slashing, but great from the back of a fast-flying horse."

Marcy assumed he meant 'fast-running'. Every guy with a horse had to brag about how fast it was. "Sure, we can work on your form and style. The weapon has its uses, especially against those eight-foot-tall armored lizards down south. But aim for the heart, you won't get more than one hit before they club you with a bone axe." She looked over to Suzette, who had no weapons on her. "I can show you some tricks when we take a break. I always have a couple of daggers on me."

Suzette produced a pair of 12" silvery daggers from her sleeves, the knives appearing nearly instantly. "I'm working on learning these. But I mostly cast spells."

Rolly smiled, sat on the ground, and started pulling food out of a sack. "I'm just here to watch tonight. You'll have your hands full with Ozzy."

Marcy grabbed her claymore, a five-foot-long weapon with an 18" hilt. "This is close to the style I think you can use with that damned thing. Are you strong enough to swing it with one hand?"

Ozzy hefted the weapon and swung it around easily. "A little, it's too long and clumsy for one hand."

"We'll work on that. You don't want to try swinging it one-handed except as part of a combination of blows. Hacking with it will be slow as hell, better to keep the weapon moving, both for offense and defense. Your weapon should move in a series of non-stop arcs, with your top hand as the fulcrum and the lower hand moving in a small arc that moves the top of the blade. Hands guide the blade. Hips and balance do the rest. But there will be times when you can drop your bottom hand and come back around hard in a swinging backhand before centering up."

She moved through a series of attacks with the weapon, hitting and chipping away at one of the pells. Then, at the end, brought the sword back around in a move that would take off a man's head, taking off a chunk of the pell before she moved back into her guard position, the sword held vertically. "See how I start this way and come back to it? This is a defensive position, but also where I'll begin attacks. Remember the Golden Rule of Great Weapons: They suck horizontally. Sure, if you're taking a screenshot it looks cool hold it casually, but in a fight that's going to cost you time, and maybe time you don't have. Always keep your guard up. Now come at me and throw a swing at 3/4 speed."

Ozzie did so, trying to mimic her stance. His blade swung down toward her shoulder, but she moved the lower part of the blade out, interposing her blade. "I barely had to move, because I was on guard. Also, notice that I'm now inside your guard." With a twist of her hips, the flat of her blade slid along Ozzy's weapon and slammed into his head, the edge turned away.

The Butcher stepped back, thoughtful but not hurt. "And if I'd have gone from the other side, you'd have moved the other way."

"Yes, good thinking. Block, move inside, and strike. Your defensive move is a step back, or a rotation around me."

"What if you're facing a much stronger opponent? I've fought some big guys."

"They you block harder. Tightening your muscles and leaning into the blow. Or use a special maneuver. Do you have any type of blocking skills? Dodges?"

"Just when fighting with my hands. I can block blows with them."

"Good way to lose a hand when your opponent has a sword. Hopefully, we can teach you Strong Block, Parry, or Defensive Dodge when we get you to Rank 5 in the weapon, and a second at 10 If we had a Warriors Guild here, and you had Enhancement points, you could buy some of those skills."

Ozzy shook his head. Doesn't work that way for us. I'm at rank 18 now. The reward that gave me the weapon put my rank at my level. But no special moves. We don't get special moves with weapons. More of the Contract Worker BS. But theirs a chance if I train with a soldier long enough. That's a special perk I had to earn killing a Boss."

"Which answers the question of why I'm here. Fine, we'll go at it, and with two healers and your beer, we can do live training. I'm not worried about you hitting me."

Ozzy looked at the others, and then back to her. "You might. I can hit pretty hard. Especially with this thing."

Marcy couldn't count the times when someone she was training worried about 'hurting her'. "I doubt it, but let's give it a go. Take your best shot and I'll block. What's the worst that can happen? You somehow get a critical hit to my head, I don't move, and you kill me? I'm back at dawn to kick your ass."

Marcy was in guard, and ready for the blow, Ozzy brought his new weapon down hand, aiming for her shoulder. She pivoted raising her blade and catching the blow on her quillions. Even braced, it drove her blade down and knocked her to her knees. The hogsplitter had enough momentum to cut through the quillions of her sword, crease the armor on her pauldron, and crumple the metal. 

Ben yelled, "HOLD."

Marcy rolled back up, looking annoyed. She felt to make sure nothing was broken and saw that she was only bruised and bleeding. "How much of that is the weapon and how much you? If you've got no special moves, then that was a hell of a lot of brute force. I'm at 40 Strength and blocked that blow perfectly."

He grinned. "Not quite twice that unless I push things."

"Holy shit. How?"

"Well, without a lot of other options, we all go heavily into our stats. You've got more options for your enhancement points, we have to specialize. Rolly and I went with armor and mitigation. Ben and Susy went with acrobatics and dodging. And we get in a lot of trouble."

"And how much damage does that weapon do?"

"It's got a base damage of 600, another 10 points per rank of skill, and a bonus of 10 points per point of strength. No one can use it unless they're a Butcher and have at least fifty points of strength. Burns a lot of stamina, too."

"Feth me! A Boss Weapon that hits like a Boss. I was worried for a moment that all this babysitting had made me soft. How much mitigation? Do I have to worry about hitting you?"

"No ma'am, I don't think so. I've got 500 mitigation with my new armored belt. Swing away."

Now, she smiled. "Hot damn. I hate holding back during training." She put away the claymore and grabbed her great sword. The blade was nearly as tall as she was and glowed as she held it. "We'll do a little warm-up. I want you to throw blows at me and then reset your guard. Most of the time I won't swing back, just enough to keep you honest. Then we'll talk about chaining them into onside/offside combos and better moves. Keep going until I call hold or you can't move your arms. Then we trade places and we see how good you can get blocking my blows."

She turned to Suzette and Ben. "Heal us as needed, but not until we're bleeding from a few wounds. Fighting injured is part of the game. Once we finish drills and are loosened up, we'll do some live sparring and see how much you learned. Start swinging, we've barely got six hours until dawn. And plan on being here tomorrow night."