Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Asymmetric Warfare
(Disclaimer: I'm just an amateur here to have fun and entertain you guys. I don't own Harry Potter, as far as I know. Rowling is welcome to gift it to me though.)
"Forty arming swords, twenty falchions, five longswords, ten kites, thirty bucklers, twenty rounds, six rapiers, three bastard swords, one great sword, two claymores and three dozens spears." Ector read from the parchment "Thirty hunting bows, twelve Welsh longbows, five arquebuses, ten crossbows, and enough arrows, darts and powder to arm a large garrison. "
"We also have eight crates of biscuits, seven crates of bread, three and half a barrel of nuts." He drew a deep breath "Eleven barrels of various spirits, twelve barrels of water, five crates of dried meats and fish, six crates of dried fruits and five more perishable fresh products."
"That's enough to feed a small town." Noted Erwin, who favored the longbow.
"We also obtained a considerable amount of clothes, furniture, tissues, soap and cleaning salts, spices, tools and raw materials." He finished with relief, as if taking inventory was more difficult than carrying heavy crates…which is kind of true.
"That's good, we might need to hole up soon." I said, only to see a many confused faces and raised brows. Even Ector, bless his good mind, took a moment to understood, before looking embarassed.
They couldn't be faulted, even for something so obvious. Even if I tend to forget it, these people were born peasents. Lower class citizens whose only concerns are the omnipresent danger of human or magical attacks and the destrucive whims of their wizarding overlords.
Most of them know nothing of magic, only that it was there and they had to live with it. Ector told me that they, the nomaj, magbobs, squib lines or whatever silly name they are given, held a most precarious position.
They were magicals, but not magic enough to be wizards, and certainly not rich enough to learn it anyways. Still, they were too magical to live among muggles without utterly dominating them like they did in ancient times and subsequently breaking the Statute of Secrecy.
So they had to stay here, on the hidden side of world, the magical lands unknown to muggles. The place where dragon attacks are a real concern, where gryphons would swoop down from the sky and devour your cattle, where nundus ruin villages, and manticores entire towns.
And then come the wizards, those powerful beings whose narcissism is only rivaled by their lack of common sense. They dominated the lands with steel and spell, lording over the masses for the greater good.
Their greater good, obviously.
Of course, the world was balance. And it regulated this blights of realities by giving them dangerously low fertility, a general fondness for pederastry and the cluelessness needed to end their centuries long lifespans on their own.
For one wizard, seven squibs.
For one squib, thirteen muggles.
The population is small, but sadly not enough to fight tooth and nail for every plot of land, every ressource and prestige in the many times smaller magical world.
This life made stern people, ready to take on whatver the fates would throw at them. But it also made them compliant, obedient and very, very simple.
They had the forsight of a sheep and as much agency as a particularly dimwitted lemming.
'Reminds me of those social justice warriors.' I shook my head, now that was something I wouldn't miss.
"We've just plundered our way into their armory, litteraly stripping their reserves naked. Soon, they will need food or water. Perhaps they'll require a new sail, or be in want of rope. The cooks might've gone through all the ingredient in the kitchen, and come to ressuply."
A couple ohs and ahs were shared, as everyone started thinking about the consequences of our actions. We wouldn't starve, thrist or stay so unbearably dirty. We had arms to fight, and defenses to stall the ennemy.
But our ennemies will be alerted, sooner or later. We will have to face the full might of a hundred desperate men, and eventually two wizards.
"We're fucked." Ector summarised our situation pretty well, I nodded in agreement.
"So, what should we do?" Erwin asked me, looking perfectly calm.
'This guy has balls of steel, or what?'
It wasn't just him, everyone took our impending doom in stride. I wish I was this collected the first time I died, then again, by the time I realised what was happening half my body had already looked like minced beef.
"I don't know, pray?"
"Very funny." Ector deadpaned "Now stop brooding and start telling us what to do."
"You've already said it." I frowned, eating a couple cherries. "We're fucked, setting up defences and starving them out is our best bet."
"That's what a sane person would say, tell me what Arthur Black would say."
'What Arthur Black would say? He'd say that it's a stupid arse name to have in the Potterverse, I'll have all the bad reputation and none of the money.' I snorted, throwing the stone seed when I bit it.
...
'Oh fuck.'
...
My lips twitched, slowly forming a wild smile as I litteraly shook from excitement. I couldn't help but break into a mad laughter, turning my men into squirming messes.
"Did...did the boss lose it?"
"No, no." I tried to calm myself, lips still twitching "Fortunately for you, I didn't."
" Really?" Ector asked, a knowing smile on his lips made me want to punch then hug him.
" I don't know." my smile grew wider, if it was even possible. "Wanna find out, old man?"
He chuckled, shaking his head and muttering something about unruly children not respecing their elders. It seemed to have mitigated my men's discomfort, that crafty geezer…
"I think I know how to unfuck ourselves." I suddenly said, bringing their attention back to myself.
"How do we do that, sir?" Asked Erwin, which was creepy as hell, a full grown man shouldn't call a kid sir. But he didn't seem to mind, so why should I?
"Simple." I ate another fruit "By fucking them first."
. . .
[Dexterity has gone up a level]
It's pretty funny how fast we human can adjust to normally extraordinary circumstances. A lifetime ago, which could as well be yesterday, I lived a normal life as a biology student. My only worries were how I'd pass my finals, and the hassle of to my far away college.
Now my life is a poorly oprimized game, and I have to sneak around a not-pirate ship with bunch of grown-arse men who for some reason listen to my seven years old self.
'At least I got a stat point.' Gotta stay positive, half-full cup and all that.
Soon after, my [Steath] skill got another level, with me abusing it for all it's worth. It's pity it couldn't extend to other people, I'd have a blast sneaking a litteral army into an ennemy's camp.
'Still, I shouldn't be so greedy, it's already making this mission much, much easier.' I thought, waiting for Rupert, who was a decent locksmith, to defeat the door to the Kitchens.
Eventually, we heard a most satisfying 'click' and Rupert shot a winning smile. He promply ran away after muttering a quick "goodluck", careful not to alert the cooks.
'At least, he didn't say goodlock'
Sometimes, I hate myself.
Pun induced self loathing aside, I had a mission. With a voiceless command, I activated my magic sensing, quickly mapping the area and locating the cooks.
It was a pain and a half to limit my sensing to kitchen, but maintaining the skill active proved itself to be the greater challenge. The sensory overload wasn't as bad as my first time, but my rapidly degrading motor skills and visibly slower thinking coupled to the groaing headache it put me through were barely bearable.
Still, I had no choice.
Waiting for the right moment, the instant where all the cooks are distracted and looking away from this door felt like eternity. But eventually I saw a chance, and I didn't hesitate to take it.
In a flash, I quickly opnened and closed the door as gently as possible. With my stealth active, I was confident in my ability to sneak around distracted targets who expected everything but an infiltration.
'I could kill all of them before they call for help.' The disturbing thought crept into my mind, and I knew it was true. However, I wasn't here to slaughter the fucking kitchen staff, slavers or not.
The area was large, divided between a cooking station for the ten men, a small resting spot with a table and a couple chair. Alcohol stains and discarded cards were dead giveaways of these seamen's idea of fun.
'Seems like they'd last a couple days without checking the Hold.' I made note of their plentiful reserves of food, water and grog.
A couple days of preparation could make all the difference.
With a mental command, I picked up a small sac filled with whitish powder from my inventory. Now fully ready, I started manoeuvring around the kitchen, careful not be seen or heard all the while monitoring my rapidly falling mana.
The Stealth skill wasn't that magic costly, but prolonged use was still troublesome.
'I'm happy all those hours playing Assasin's Creed and Dishonoured weren't for naught.' I snickered sliently, emptying my sac everywhere I could.
Every marmite, water tank, rum barrel, cauldron and all manners of cooking supplies received a generous dose of white stuff.
I paid extra attention to the soup, which according to Baldy, was given to everyone from servant to captain. It looked absolutely vile, and apparently tasted even worse.
'I might just be improving it's taste, they should all thank me.'
I left the room with an empty sac, a headache and a big smile on my face.
'I love my asymmetric warfare.'
Returning was more difficult, I was physically and mentally depleted but I could handle it. I handled worse than that, after all. Step by step, I got nearer and nearer to the base. It wasn't long before I saw Ector and the surveil squad waiting for me.
'Just a couple more steps…' I thought, as my vision got blurry. 'That's bad, I think I'm gonna lose consciou…'
As the floor got ever closer, I was overjoyed to feel Ector's arms saving my nose from a painful experience.
"Arthur! Kid, you're alright?" I heard him struggle to stay quiet, worry in his voice.
"Fine...need sleep…" I mutered, feeling myself go. It wouldn't do, they had to know it went smoothly, or else Ector would have to deal with the panic on his own.
"Mission accomplished."
And everything went dark.
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Author Notes:
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Hello citizen of the internet! This is your favourite fox themed Astartes speaking, Yep, It's Vulpes!
Here's another chapter for you to enjoy, I might write another one today if you are nice and numerous.
Arthur found a way to unfuck an otherwise fucked situation, but will it work? or did he fuck up? Why did he faint? Was he in fact a decoy protagonist? Is the real protagonist Ector? Or Erwin? Or that loudmouth? Perhaps it is Baldy?
Just kidding, we all know it is Ned the white.
To know the answer to these very important questions, read the next chapter of HP: War Games. Stay tuned!
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! If so then thank you for the stones and reviews!
If you didn't then.. I'm just here to tell you that you can, in fact, see your nose. Now do it, see your nose and don't unseen it. You can also breath, slowly and manually. And you walk funny, be mindful of how you walk and what you do with you hands.
Goodbye!
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