Be Careful What You Wish For (Nalifan)

[consequences]

No... if Nalifan had faked this, why would he be praying? Nalifan wouldn't need to pray if he'd faked this one.

Who's saying Nalifan is the one that has to have faked it? Other candidates include the Duke, mystery Prince backing schemer for convoluted reasons of his own, and the tricksy tricksy elves that kicked off his involvement in the first place.

[Skyfox120]

Honestly I want to see how the young prince will react to Nalifan seemingly having the gods favor...

[LadyTevar]

I foresee a private screaming fit, possibly a few servants slapped around, and other signs of a Royal Temper Tantrum.

Hopefully that will allow Nalifan to get a little justice for the abuse of his concubine.

[Imperial Overlord]

Elvarra staggered down the carpeted halls, looking like five miles of bad road instead of a silver haired, night skinned icon of beauty. She wore a cerulean silk robe, hastily thrown on and belted with a sash. The sorceress rubbed her face as she entered the dining room. "Lolth's fangs," she muttered.

Servants dashed in and out of the room, leaving a carafe of orange juice next to a full glass. Elvarra drank deeply from the glass. "Food," she muttered, "now."

A plate of sausages and apple slices baked in cinnamon appeared in front of her, as if by magic. A bowl with a half dozen hard boiled eggs was swiftly placed beside the plate and Elvarra bolted down the first slice and began chewing on the second. The swift but less than graceful action of her fork and knife cut up one of the sausages. That too was devoured swiftly.

Elvarra washed it down with another drink of orange juice. "Better," she said as she picked up one of the hard boiled eggs and cracked the shell by tapping it against the bowl. She peeled off the pieces of shell and heavily dusted the egg with salt, pepper, and a reddish spice from Maztica whose name she had forgotten.

Trizkel, Sylvetria Mikos, and Kuuni entered the dining room as she polished off the second egg and the last of the apple slices. A medium furred black kitten was cradled in Trizkel's arms, but other than that the adventurers were attired for going into the field. Armour was worn, every worthwhile magical trinket had been donned or pocketed, and an arsenal of the deadliest weapons this side of the Empire of Shade were displayed openly.

Elvarra wasn't stupid, but her brain was badly fogged from consuming enough mind altering substances to kill an ogre. She looked at them and blinked. "What's going on?" she asked.

"We got an idea," said Trizkel.

"What?" Elvarra asked.

"This," said Trizkel, depositing the kitten on the table. "Or more precisely, his god."

"The King of All Cats," said Mikos.

"Who has some kind of bargain with Nal," Elvarra said slowly.

"Right," said Trizkel. "So he'll likely know where he is. And if doesn't, one of his furry and murderous, secret keeping, magic loving subjects might."

Elvarra blinked. "Then why are you just standing here?" she said and got up.

"Because we don't know where he is," said Trizkel.

"The Beastlands, of course," said Elvarra.

"Where in the Beastlands," said Mikos. "It's an entire plane."

"Oh," said the drow. "The library?"

"Checked, while you were passed out," said Trizkel. "Nothing useful."

"So we need to find ourselves a guide," said Mikos.

"And you need to get dressed and sober up," said Sylvetria. The drow glared at the human woman.

"Where?" asked Elvarra.

"Where else?" Trizkel said. "Sigil."

"Oh no," said Kuuni, her eyes growing wide. "I hate that place."

[consequences]

Aw, can Kuuni not get away with her usual antics in Sigil? Did she try to pickpocket the Lady of Pain once?

[Imperial Overlord]

Aw, can Kuuni not get away with her usual antics in Sigil? Did she try to pickpocket the Lady of Pain once?

Not quite that bad, but a pursuit of an enemy rogue into Sigil and botched pickpocketing antics lead to her being up shit creek without a paddle.

[Imperial Overlord]

Miranna followed Nalifan into his rooms. It was hard to believe it was really real. It was a dream, a fantasy conjured while half dozing on a hot summer afternoon. The southern gods had given their blessing to a wizard, a non-human at that. "What now?" she said, repressing the urge to giggle. She had broken out a few times on the way back.

"Now we continue as planned," said Nalifan.

"Are you telling you planned that?" she said, smiling.

"No," said Nalifan. "I anticipated a positive response, as anything less was essentially suicidal. I have, however, been wrong before. I wasn't. We continue as planned."

"And what is the plan, oh most blessed of mages?"

Nalifan grimaced. "If only my local goddess of magic shared that opinion instead of wasting spellfire on her pets and mind crippled weaklings. Good taste can be so hard to find."

She giggled. "So, now that you have near absolute power, what is the next step in your plan?"

"Next step is you," said Nalifan.

"Me?" she said.

"You. Who are you now?"

"I'm the apprentice to the Varnar Gest, wizard to the queen, your aide, and the teacher of your rag tag company of mages."

"Which means you have frequent and favorable access to me," said Nalifan, "and since I'm about to become supreme warlord that means you've just become one of the most powerful people in the kingdom."

"I'm just a Deraddan commoner,-" she began but stopped.

"A Deraddan commoner who has my ear. Which makes you more powerful than almost everyone. The right word can promote. Or kill." He pulled a bottle of wine off the shelf. A minor enchantment kept it cool. Two goblets joined it. He filled them and passed one over to her. "People will begin figuring that out very soon, if they haven't already." He passed her a goblet. She took it.

He took a sip. "Drink up. That pretty knight you had your eye on only likes men, but you're about to have no shortage of handsome suitors. They'll be giving you gifts, flattering you, performing deeds to prove their devotion to you, and anything else they think that will help them get into your heart and into your bed."

She drank from the glass. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I'm not saying don't enjoy yourself," said Nalifan, "just don't be a fool and give your heart away to the first honey tongued knave. By all means fuck, but don't confuse lust with love. Everyone will want something."

She drank deeply. "And what do you want from me?"

"In no particular order I want you to continue to assist me, to train the fledgling mage cadre, to not fall in love with any of your suitors, to kill my enemies with any and all means at your disposal, and for you to become my lover."

She blushed. "I thought you weren't going to do that," she said and took another drink.

"I said I wasn't going to use any force or coercion and I meant that," said Nalifan. "You're beautiful, you're loyal, and your mind is formidable."

"You're just saying-"

"The locals might like tall, meaty blonds with breasts like udders," said Nalifan, "but I don't." He stepped toward her, backing her up against the table. "I won't coerce you or manipulate your or lie to you, but I do wish to bed you. You blush prettily and you avert your gaze, but I see the desire in your eyes. I heart your heart race and the intake of your breath. I ask nothing from you but to be allowed to give you pleasure."

"I-I," she said and he took the glass from her hands and leaned forward to kiss her. She responded hungrily. They broke apart. "Gods," she whispered. "I never-."

"Then this too I shall teach you," he said and embraced her again. She kissed him back as he lifted her easily into the air and walked slowly toward the bed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How did it go?"

"Perfectly," Sargard responded. "Just like you said it would."

After a show of sulking Sargard had returned to his quarters and banished his servants and retainers. His benefactor was waiting. "Too bad you couldn't attend."

"With Nalifan and the Three there? No, that would not have been a good idea."

"Pity."

"But they did endorse him?"

"The highest of endorsements."

"Excellent. His legitimacy will be easy to appropriate once he is dead."

"Not if the Khaduli don't kill him."

"However he dies, we'll see that the Khaduli are blamed. If they need a little help, they'll get it. After Nalifan has done enough damage to make our victory inevitable."

Sargard frowned. "This wasn't the original plan. You were to handle them."

"Plans should adapt to circumstances. No victory is guaranteed. Nalifan is here. It would be foolish not to wring as much out of him as possible before we discard him. Then, when hope has died, a savior appears."

"You."

"Me. And with Nalifan having died heroically fighting the enemy and in the process covering mages with glory, no one will question the nature of your new, desperately needed savior until after we've won and consolidated power. Not that different from the original plan, but it'll work even better because we have Nalifan around to tear up the Khaduli and provide a handy cloak of divine approval that we can appropriate."

"But he does die."

"Oh yes. He has to. Otherwise neither of us gets what we want."

"I can drink to that."

[consequences]

Hmm, why do I get the feeling that in any game system with flaws, Nal would have lecherous or the local equivalent? Possibly twice?

And Sargard's still a dumbass who doesn't have the slightest clue how much of a disposable tool he really is. Just once, I'd like to see the reprehensible worthless bastard of a story have the Blood Eagle(or something equally painful and drawn out) enacted upon them.

[Imperial Overlord]

Hmm, why do I get the feeling that in any game system with flaws, Nal would have lecherous or the local equivalent? Possibly twice?

That implies sex is the only sensual pleasure he cares about and that's just plain wrong. Good food, good wine, hot baths, indoor heating and plumbing, and yes, hot women. He can go without his comforts, but he prefers not to.

And Sargard's still a dumbass who doesn't have the slightest clue how much of a disposable tool he really is. Just once, I'd like to see the reprehensible worthless bastard of a story have the Blood Eagle(or something equally painful and drawn out) enacted upon them.

Actually, he's invaluable. The devil's scheme doesn't work without a compliant king and his soul is contractually protected. He's just willing to damn the whole continent to get what he wants. You can see why the devil was willing to fast track him eh?

As for something unpleasant and drawn out, Nalifan couldn't agree with you more.

[LadyTevar]

Hmm, why do I get the feeling that in any game system with flaws, Nal would have lecherous or the local equivalent? Possibly twice?

That implies sex is the only sensual pleasure he cares about and that's just plain wrong. Good food, good wine, hot baths, indoor heating and plumbing, and yes, hot women. He can go without his comforts, but he prefers not to.

In short, the flaw should be "Hedonist".

[Imperial Overlord]

"I told you Sigil was a bad idea," said Kuuni.

"What were the odds of finding a tout greedy and stupid enough to try and rob us?" replied Trizkel.

"I'd say pretty good," replied Kuuni.

The adventurers were in a dead end alley, part of the ever shifting maze of Sigil's streets. The buildings around them were two and three stories tall, an eclectic mix of architecture mostly devoid of the ivy like black razorvine and most of them were marked with the bladed protrusions popular in Sigil. The alley was roughly in the shape of the letter J and turned to come to an abrupt end with a twenty-five foot tall blade topped wall. Their guide was a small man in a brown tunic and jerkin who was scrambling spider-like over the last five feet of the wall. A dozen chunks of grey slate were floating above the adventurers' heads.

Elvarra flicked a finger and tossed the masonry away. "Clear the roofs," Trizkel said to Mikos. "We'll deal with the rest. Keen elvish ears had heard the foot steps of the second group of ambushers.

The Dalesman already had his bow drawn and an arrow knocked. He let fly. The tout fell back and was caught on the blades on top of the wall. The fetching of Mikos's arrow protruded from the back of his head. The bloody shaft quivered between his eyes.

Two brutes came around the bend. The one on the right was a nine foot tall, black furred minotaur wearing greaves, vambraces, and a cuirass of spell etched bronze. Cyan runes glowed softly in his fur. Heat waves emanated from the huge black iron hammer he held in his hands. The other was a human nearly seven feet tall wearing patchwork armour of leather and mail. He was dusky skinned with lank black nose, a long nose, and arms like an ape. He carried a club fashioned from a timber.

A green metal wire was tossed out from the roof tops. "They're mi-" Elvarra began, but the wire coiled around her throat, cutting off her words. Only warding powerful enough to deflect a heavy crossbow bolt prevented the noose from decapitating her.

Mikos spun to engage the strangler and another wire twisted down from above as the two brutes charged. The wire wrapped around the upper limb of the bow. The thief jerked hard on the line, spoiling any shots Mikos might have tried to make.

A silver lance appeared in Sylvetria's hand. She raised it to deal with Elvarra's attacker. "No!" shouted Trizkel. Nalifan's experiments had shown that lightning and metal wires mixed in ways that could be unpleasant. Especially for the person touching the wire and the ground. Sylvetria hesitated and then the brutes were upon them.

Trizkel rushed to meet the minotaur. His enhancements made him lightning fast even by elvish standards. By comparison the minotaur seemed to be moving underwater. Trizkel leapt up and kicked the minotaur in the chest with a strike that would dent steel and crush bone. The bronze plate was unmarked, but the force of the blow was sufficient to knock the minotaur back off his feet. The drow somersaulted backwards from the contact, landed, and drew his blades.

Sylvetria swung the lance around and impaled the big man through the hip. Green-black blood the consistency of pitch oozed from the wound. The man grunted and pushed forward. The lance pushed through the seat of his pants, oozing blood. He swung his club. The end connected and sent Sylvetria sprawling, the lance knocked out of her hands.

As the minotaur regained his feet and the human pulled the lance from his body, Mikos firmly planted his feet and pulled. The man on the other end of the wire was strong, very strong. Mikos jerked him into view and then off the roof entirely. The thief was squat and wore a hooded brown tunic that hid his features. He landed with the agility of a cat and drew fourteen inch long blades.

Mikos tossed his bow aside as it was still fouled by the wire and he had only moments before the thief was on him. He drew his swords, long one in his right hand and short in the left. The thief parried his long blade, moved closer, and parried a stab with his short sword. He stepped inside Mikos's reach, freed his dagger from the Dalesman's longsword, and thrust it towards Mikos's left lung.

The huge thug's club struck cobblestones as Sylvetria rolled away and got to her feet. His blood gave him away. Sorcery had been used at some point to mix trollish essence into the thug. It didn't help his looks or smell, but it made him big, strong, fast, tough, and it made him heal hellishly fast.

There are a lot of stories about trolls and most of them are false. They can regenerate from the smallest piece. Their severed limbs will move to attack of their own accord. A troll's head will spawn a new troll. All are lies. A severed head will live for awhile and can be reattached. The limbs convulse and spasm and are dangerous, but the same can be said of a dying snake. Chopping a troll to pieces will kill it, although chopping a creature to pieces with a hide that protects almost as well as mail and only slightly softer flesh is a lot easier said than done. Fire and acid aren't essential tools, but they make a damn hard job a whole lot easier.

Trizkel dodged a strike from the black iron hammer that sent hell red flames blasting from the divot it tore in the ground. Sylvetria regained her feet with a gleaming great sword in her hands. Blood fell from Elvarra's neck and hands. Mikos leapt backwards, away from a the lethal thrust.

Kuuni's dagger buried itself in the small of the daggerman's back, severing his spine and coming out the front. He staggered and fell. Sylvertria cut the club in half and then severed the thug's right arm at the shoulder. Trizkel hit the minotaur in the flank, his blades drawing blood on arm and thigh before the drow danced away. Mikos raised his blades and rushed. The green wire parted and Elvarra tore the bloody loop from her neck.

The drow rose into the sky, her eyes shining like stars. Below, Sylvetria took the half-troll's head off. The sorceress spoke death. The wire man on the roof burst into silver flames, falling from the roof to the alley below. The minotaur rose into the sky, his limbs flailing helplessly. Silver fire erupted from his eyes, ears, mouth and anus as she burned him from the inside out. The corpse fell to the cobbles.

Elvarra's feet touch the earth as she knocked back a potion of sluggish amber fluid and tossed the empty bottle away carelessly. She rubbed her neck as the wounds faded. "What's your next idea?" she said to Trizkel. "And make it quick. I'm feeling cranky."

[consequences]

Man, adventurers just can't go anywhere without hitting a level appropriate encounter.

[LadyTevar]

You have to admit, that was a nasty one. Baatarian Green Steel wire, hell-fire weaponry, and smart tactics.

But once the mage got free, it was all over but the dying.

[Xon]

Man, adventurers just can't go anywhere without hitting a level appropriate encounter.

If by level appropriate encounter, you mean a small speed bump sure.

[consequences]

Man, adventurers just can't go anywhere without hitting a level appropriate encounter.

If by level appropriate encounter, you mean a small speed bump sure.

Not all level appropriate encounters are going to seriously threaten the group. And you'll note they actually had a group of epic level adventurers off-balance for around 2.93 seconds, which isn't an insignificant achievement.

Hell, remember the assault force in Marriage and Mayhem, and how quickly they went down? Once you reach a certain point, if you don't have the adventurers on the ropes, you're just one step away from a varying degree of dead.

[Imperial Overlord]

Nalifan didn't wait for the nobles and royals to settle around the table. "I trust no one here wants to thwart the will of the Three?" Eyes shot towards him and a low rumble filled the room. "Good," said the arch-mage, as he cut off any complaints before they could be voiced. "His majesty has, in accord with the will of the gods, given charge of the defence of the kingdom to me. That means disobedience is treason and heresy and will be punished appropriately, if Khaduli don't take care of the offender first."

He paused deliberately, changing to a lighter tone and showing an engaging smile. "I trust everyone in this room wishes to live? I'm assuming most of you do, especially Count Renhold who surely did not choose such a pretty young bride because he was tired of living." A round of laughter accompanied the joke.

"Let us not fool ourselves. This war will require harsh measures and sacrifice." More sacrifice by commoners, but that was the way of the world. The powerful used their power to insulate themselves from suffering. "The destruction of the Khaduli will leave us as the sole power of any meaning in the region. What we lose now we will regain tenfold in the future as we conquer new territories." Again, the powerful would benefit and the poor would just suffer but that didn't matter. What did matter is that the nobles were less inclined to protest the loses he was going to demand they take now and think of the gains that awaited them once the Khaduli were defeated. They were trying to hide it, but I could read the greed on at least half of their faces. All the land south of the Serpent River would be ripe for the taking.

Now that he had asserted his authority, softened the blow, and appealed to their greed it was time to get to the meat of the matter while they were receptive. "We have what is left of the winter to prepare. Every man and woman who can hold a weapon and fight in formation needs to be inducted under arms. Everyone south of Vinmark needs to sent north along with every scrap of food. Everything that can't be evacuated must be burned."

"That has been tried," objected Duke Ericorn, "and it does not work. The Khaduli-"

"-can survive off their herds," completed Nalifan. "Under normal circumstances. Do as I command. I will need every forester, poacher, game warden, and huntsman that can be found and the Derraddan Rangers. All fortresses south of Vinmark, with the exception of the Bastion Bridge and Cardan must be abandoned and their supplies stripped."

"The nomads carry no siege equipment," said Prince Segald. "Abandoning castles is idiocy."

"They don't need siege equipment," said Nalifan. "They have sorcery, more than enough of it. Have walls saved anyone?" He gazed fiercely at the gathering. "No eh? Bastion Bridge and Cardan are the only fortresses strong enough to have a chance of holding." They had no chance, but he wasn't about to reveal his real reasons for wanting them in public. "We won't piss away our strength trying to do the impossible. The Khaduli will cross and they will ravage the south, but we can make them pay a blood price for that and we can force them into a battle that will bleed them white and then we can break them."

He paused to let that sink in for a moment. "You will, of course, need to return to your lands, muster your troops, and send your people north. You are dismissed so you can begin immediately." Objections died unspoken on lips. Nalifan's gaze made it clear that he would accept no protestations or excuses. He had wiped out a Khaduli clan, killed a noble with naked steel, and made warlord of Vanyard by both king and gods. No one was foolish enough to test him.

"Is that all?" asked King Elois when the last of his nobles had left.

"All?" replied Nalifan. "No. That's what they need to know. I have much to do, not the least of the work being integrating the mage cadres into the army and letting your captains know how to fight this enemy. There are spells I need to perfect and I need to find commanders who will do my will and I need to prepare the rangers to strike at the enemy."

"The Khaduli aren't orc raiding bands. Rangers won't stop them."

"I don't want the rangers to stop them," replied Nalifan. "Quite to the contrary, the further the Khaduli penetrate into the country the greater their peril. The rangers are just another knife to bleed them with and bleed them they will."

"You make it sound as if you cannot defeat them in battle," rumbled Elois.

"Light horsemen are adept at fleeing when a battle goes against them," replied Nalifan. "If I can crush them on the battlefield all the better, but I have other ways of bringing about their end and I intend to use them."

[Eleas]

YES. Oh, yes. Yes yes yes.

*claps hands in glee*

[Skyfox120]

Ah Nalifan... truly one of those who understands the adage about studying Logistics over battle.

[Imperial Overlord]

The hunters and rangers packed the hall. They ranged from skinny teenagers to grizzled old men with white beards and formidable collections of scars. More than eight in ten were men and most of the women bore the dark hair and pale skin of northerners. A few carried the tell tale marks of elven blood somewhere in their ancestry. All were armed.

The doors were closed and the room guarded by Nalifan's magic. Miranna's magelings guarded the doors to prevent eavesdropping. The drow arch-mage waited for the group to settle sufficiently and then interrupted the low drone of conversation. He pitched his voice to carry.

"Many of you will die. If we win." That got their attention. "If we lose you all will die. And your families and friends and loved ones will die. The enemy does not want land or territory or slaves. The enemy wants death, death that will please their god and fuel their power. Your deaths. You can die. Or you can fight.

"Every nation that has fought them has perished. The Twelve Tribes of the Khaduli have always been victorious. Until they met me. Now there are eleven tribes. I intend to drown them in an ocean of their own blood. To do that, I need your help.

"I need you pick off their herdsmen and their scouts. I need you to slaughter unattended flocks, take what you need, and leave the rest to rot. I need you to hide from their hunting parties and resume killing once they leave. I need you to kill whoever you can be they warrior, woman, or child. I need you to slit their throats when they sleep at night and poison their food. I need the punishment for a moment's vulnerability on their part to be death. I need you to hide and run and kill when you can. I need you to bite at their heels and bleed them white.

"They will kill you. If they take you alive they will kill you horribly. They will track you with dogs and on horseback. They will beat you out of the bushes and dig you out of holes. It will be a miserable existence, cold and hungry and full of fear. The knights will get the glory. Hells, I will get the glory. But without you, there will be no victory. Will you do this?"

There was a mumbled grumbling of affirmation. From others it wouldn't be much, but they were rangers. Rangers didn't do bravado, they just did what needed to be done. "Very well then," said Nalifan. "Thank you. The stewards will see to your needs."

"They didn't seem too enthusiastic," Miranna murmured. The apprentice matched her master's stride.

"They're rangers, not knights. Tougher than tough and one word answers is what passes for display among them. It's an ugly job, but it needs doing. They're the right people for it."

"It won't hurt them badly enough," said Miranna.

"You think so?" Nalifan said, cocking an eyebrow. The ghost of a smile was on his lips.

"I've learned enough over the past few months. I know so."

"You're right. Alone this won't do much." He smiled, showing teeth. "But this isn't the only trick up my sleeve and far from the worst of them."

He pushed open the door to the great hall. Two magelings were there and so was Lania. "My lord," she said softly, head down.

"My poor Lania," Nalifan said softly. He raised her chin so that her gaze meet his. "I am sorry you were hurt and I am sorry my magic can only heal the physical scars."

"There is little safety in being a whore. You almost made me forget that."

"Walk with us," said Nalifan. "Do not apologize for your anger. You have every right to your outrage. The world is as the world is. The screams of victims go unheeded in every corner of every world. Ninety-nine out of a hundred cries go unanswered. But not yours. I promise you that. The rarest and most precious of gifts, true vengeance."

Her lips formed a tight line. "You don't have to give me empty promises, my lord."

"Oh there is nothing empty about those promises. Before we see the end of this we will paint these halls red with our knives."

[Eleas]

And now I think I see confirmation of what I thought Nalifan had planned with Lania. If I'm right, then I would have to say Nalifan's logic is appalling. Admirably clever, yes, but cold.

[LadyTevar]

And now I think I see confirmation of what I thought Nalifan had planned with Lania. If I'm right, then I would have to say Nalifan's logic is appalling. Admirably clever, yes, but cold.

You forget that Nalifan is a Prince of a very nasty Drow family.
Anyone and everyone around him is a weapon, either for him or against him. Lania was a very useful tool -- good in bed, and very good bait for Nalifan's enemies. He knows who they are now, and they think they got away with it.

[Raj Ahten]

Imperial Overlord, you always have done badassery well in your stories. I hope we get a few vignettes with the rangers later; hard men doing a hard job is always an interesting storyline.

[Eleas]

You forget that Nalifan is a Prince of a very nasty Drow family.
Lania was a very useful tool -- good in bed, and very good bait for Nalifan's enemies. He knows who they are now, and they think they got away with it.

Oh, Nalifan is all that and more. That was not the part that appalled me; I assumed something like that would be the cause. No, the thought that really made me a bit queasy is twofold. First, that this plan actually was what Nalifan saw as his best bet for protecting her (as Nalifan, unlike other drow, actually allows himself to feel loyalty to 'his people,' which I feel would extend to Lania).

Secondly, well, that he probably calculated on what happened, and used it to make her a nonentity in the eyes of the prince -- someone Sargard would overlook until it was too late.

[Imperial Overlord]

Imperial Overlord, you always have done badassery well in your stories. I hope we get a few vignettes with the rangers later; hard men doing a hard job is always an interesting storyline.

You will. Tragically, it is necessary to include their actions so the reader can see the big picture. You'll just have to slog through those parts.

[Eleas]

Imperial Overlord, you always have done badassery well in your stories. I hope we get a few vignettes with the rangers later; hard men doing a hard job is always an interesting storyline.

You will. Tragically, it is necessary to include their actions so the reader can see the big picture. You'll just have to slog through those parts.

If it is too onerous, you might try writing it from their perspective. That is, in the way they would have told it. I imagine it would go something like this:

"Report? All right. Two weeks out, we smelled horse manure. By nightfall we found them. We waited and struck at midnight. Sentries were lazy and got the knife. A few survivors fled. Can't hide that good in snow though. Took some days more, then it was quiet again. Two hundred less Khaduli now. We kept some horses, killed the others. Then we rode back. Look, my throat is dry. Can we skip this bloody speech already?"