Grimoires and Gunsmoke

“Eli… What the fuck?” Coleman blurted out after a long bout of silence. His mind raced, trying to process the new information his medic had just unloaded onto him. "We can't just... we can't just execute some random peasant Eli. I know there’s potential justification, but we’re edging really fucking close to war crime territory.”

A mirthless smile tugged at the corner of Elijah's mouth as their cart slowly rumbled down the dirt road. "No, it's not.” He said matter of factly, causing Bennett, Schwarz, and Coleman to raise an eyebrow. “He qualifies for execution without trial or jury on the grounds of espionage and sabotage. The village is technically occupied territory."

As the caravan trundled along the dirt road, Coleman found himself grappling with the legal and ethical implications of what Elijah had presented. The medic's words, while technically correct, sat heavy in his gut.

"I don't know, man. This is a fine line.” He responded, knowing on an intellectual level that the waters of unconventional warfare were always muddied. The very nature of their work often required them to venture into morally grey, even morally black, territory in the name of operational security and success.

It was a reality they had all been trained for, a scenario they had practiced countless times in exercises like Robin Sage. The unspoken understanding was that if no one ever found out, it never happened. But putting those methods into practice and making the conscious decision to end a life based on the cold calculus of necessity... was something else entirely.

But if Coleman was honest with himself, he didn't have the stomach for such pragmatic ruthlessness. The thought of blood on his hands, even in service of the greater good, made his skin crawl.

He knew this was the right call, and yet, he was hesitant to allow Elijah to have his way unchecked. While it was an undeniably effective plan, it skirted the very edges of what Coleman considered acceptable. Of what was necessary in war and how to preserve their own humanity.

As if sensing his internal conflict, Elijah leaned in close, his voice low and reassuring. "Relax," he said, his hand coming to rest on Coleman's shoulder. "You don't have to get your hands dirty, don't have to wade through these muddy waters."

Coleman looked up, meeting Elijah's gaze. The medic's eyes were calm, almost eerily so, as if he had long since made peace with the moral compromises their work demanded.

"But, the decision affects more than just me or you," Elijah continued, his words measured and deliberate. "And whatever you decide, I'm certain she is going to act with her best interests in mind." The man said, flicking his gaze to Azeline, who sat in the carriage's cab. The elf woman was leaning back in a lazy fashion as her long elven ears bounced up and down. As if sensing she was being discussed, she glanced their way in a relaxed fashion.

As Coleman observed the silent exchange between Elijah and Azeline, a sense of unease crept over him. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the two had already discussed this scenario and had planned for it in advance.

Elijah's gaze locked with Azeline's as he spoke up. "So, it seems the original plan's still on. You think you can take him?"

Azeline let out a thoughtful hum, her fingers drumming lightly on the side of the carriage. "He has that pesky bow," she mused, her voice carrying a hint of annoyance. "And I don't have a shield anymore...." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered the problem. "But if I can get the jump on him, close the gap... it shouldn't be an issue."

A sigh left Coleman's breath as he listened to their plan to assassinate the Village head was merely a tactical inconvenience. Because, of course, they were, and of course it was…

"It's apparent that the man is a veteran warrior and a mana user to boot," Azeline continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "But, he's middling at best. Certainly no match for me in close quarters."

Coleman swallowed hard, his mind reeling. The casual confidence with which Azeline spoke of ending a life, the way she weighed Sofan's abilities as if he were just another obstacle to be overcome…

"Or," Elijah spoke up with a voice carrying a note of nonchalance, "we could just shoot him in the back instead. We have legal justification," he said, his tone almost bored. "Espionage, sabotage, the threat to operational security, and all that jazz. Would be simple and easy."

A groan left Coleman's mouth as he put his head into his hand. “Jesus…” He muttered silently. “We can’t just… Execute him in cold blood. That’s not what we do.”

Elijah huffed softly in amusement as a toothy smirk flashed across his face. “Isn’t this what we do?” He challenged his team leader in a casual manner.

A look of shock briefly crept across Coleman’s face before he let out a loud derisive laugh. It was a bitter and resigned chuckle as he hung his head, The reality of their situation seemed to bore down on him like a physical force. "So, that's it then?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Our choices are either to commit premeditated murder ourselves or be complicit in murder and allow a local under our authority to do it for us. Astounding. Truly astounding."

In true Elijah fashion, his insufferable smile never wavered as he just shrugged. "What did you expect, Cole? Did you think this would be a nice clean, brisk walk? That we'd just waltz in like valiant heroes and save these poor, hapless, malnourished peasants from oppression like in some kind of fairy tale?"

Coleman's frown deepened as he glared intensely at Elijah from the corner of his eye. The medic's words, while harsh, carried an uncomfortable ring of truth. They weren't here to be heroes. They were here to disrupt their enemy and secure the interests of their nation in a hostile and unfamiliar land. And sometimes, that meant making hard choices. Choices that would haunt them and stain their souls with the blood of the guilty and sometimes the innocent.

This village chief was most likely no monster. He was just a man who was doing what he believed was in the best interest of his family and people.

Sensing he had struck a nerve, Elijah continued to press. "This is our job.” He said in a low voice with a hint of disdain. “It's messy, it's brutal, and it's often morally grey at best. We’re not exactly the good guys or some–"

“Enough, Eli.” Coleman growled as his jaw clenched and his hand balled into a fist.

He wanted to argue; he wanted to refute Elijah’s cynical worldview with every fiber of his being and say that sure, they had a dirty job, but they could still conduct it honorably. But he knew it would fall on deaf ears. Elijah was, in every sense of the word, a wolf.

On the surface, Elijah was all charm and wit, his easy smile and quick tongue endearing him to those around him. He had a way of making everyone laugh and feel like they were the center of his world, as if their thoughts and feelings truly mattered. But beneath that veneer of warmth and humor, there was a coldness. A calculating ruthlessness that allowed him to get his hands dirty and clinically make the hard choices without even batting an eye.

It was a duality that Coleman had always struggled to reconcile.

Coleman heaved a heavy sigh, the weight of the decision bearing down on him like a physical force. He glanced at the other two teammates riding in the carriage, seeking their input and perspective.

Bennett and Schwarz, who had been silent throughout the exchange, seemed to be grappling with their own thoughts. They looked off into the distance with pensive and troubled expressions.

"What do you think?" Coleman asked, his voice heavy with the burden of command. "About all of this?"

Schwarz was the first to respond in a low and measured voice. "It's a tough call, boss," he said, his gaze still fixed on some distant point. "But I think Eli's right. This is the nature of the beast." He continued while turning to face Coleman. "We've all got blood on our hands, one way or another. It's just a question of how much and for what purpose."

As all eyes turned to Bennett, but the engineer simply shrugged in response. "Look, no one likes it," he replied nonchallantly despite the weight of the topic. "But what other choice do we have? The local is just going to gut him anyway, right?" He gestured towards Azeline, who was staring at them with detached interest.

"What happens if we stop her? He rats us out, we bug out, and they burn the village in retaliation?” Bennett continued as his words took on a pragmatic edge. “One body isn't going to make a difference if you ask me."

Coleman sighed, running a hand over his face. He knew Bennett was right, knew that in the grand scheme of things, one life weighed against the success of their mission and the safety of the village was a small price to pay.

But it didn't make the decision any easier to bear.

He looked at Elijah, at the calculating gleam in the medic's eye. "You're sure there's no other way? No angle we haven't considered?"

Elijah laughed as he shook his head. “Bro HATES us.” He answered as he pointed towards the head of the convoy. “Guy went out of his way to irreparably damage his relationship with his son to head a convoy he could have delegated to anyone else in order to rat us out.”

“At YOUR instigation.” Coleman hissed, but Elijah just shrugged with a cheeky smile spread across his face.

Closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath, Coleman remained quiet as grim resolution washed over him. “Fine,” he relented and knocked on the wall of the cart. “But, make it clean, make it quick, and make it quiet. I don’t want any blowback from this bullshit.”

A sadistic glint flashed in Elijah’s eyes as he clapped his hands together and turned to Azeline as he switched to a language she could understand. “Games on, but we gotta make it clean.” He spoke to the woman in an excited and light-hearted tone that belied the grim work they were going to undertake.

Azeline tapped her chin thoughtfully as a soft hum escaped her lips. A multitude of options started to race through her mind, and each scenario seemed just as valid as the other. She was intimately familiar with this route, having traversed it countless times as a freelancer on both legitimate and less-than-legal jobs.

"Well, I’m pretty familiar with this area," she mused while her hand shot up to scratch behind her long ear. "The Empire usually patrols this area pretty heavily since it's known to be a haven for highwaymen, kobold raiders, and scavengers looking for an easy mark."

The others looked at each other as she paused. They knew that whatever plan Azeline was formulating, it would be cunning and ruthlessly efficient.

"We have options," Azeline continued, her fingers drumming lightly on her thigh. "Your little war against them had kicked everything into a fuss.” She said with her finger now twirling a lock of hair. “For instance, with the decline in security, we could scout ahead, find a checkpoint or a known scavenger den, and make the village head accompany us under the guise of ensuring the caravan's safety."

Elijah nodded, catching onto her train of thought. "And then we do him in, making it look like the work of bandits or monsters."

Azeline showed a predatory smile. "Exactly. No one would question it, not out here. The roads are dangerous, people are desperate, and accidents happen all the time."

Coleman's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching in his cheek. He didn't like it, the casual discussion of cold-blooded murder. But his mind flashed back to an earlier statement Elijah had made.

They were in the wildlands now.

As their assassination plot started to slowly come together, the conspirators drifted off to entertain themselves as the convoy maintained its steady but agonizingly slow pace. The Australian SASR, riding in their Long Range Patrol Vehicles (LRPVs), and the rest of the ODA in their Ground Mobility Vehicles (GMVs), almost regretted bringing their vehicles as they crawled at a snail's pace.

Their gas-guzzling engines became a constant hum against the countryside backdrop while drones whirred and buzzed above them to scout ahead. The operators worked in shifts watching the feeds as the camera and sensor feeds swept across the landscape for any signs of trouble.

But as they traveled, the earthbound humans couldn't help but be struck by the beauty and strangeness of the land around them. One would think that such wide-open plains that stretched out before them would be the same as their homeland. however, that assumption couldn’t be further from the truth. Even the sea of gently swaying grasses and wildflowers that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight had some kind of magical, alien twist to it.

Whether it be some kind of strange and wondrous fauna or bioluminescent foliage, the surreal alien nature could be seen everywhere. Herds of what looked like deer with bodies seeming to be made of living bark grazed peacefully in the distance. Their antlers were not the typical bone and velvet but rather intricately woven branches that seemed to pulse with a soft, inner light.

As one of these majestic creatures raised its head, the otherworlders caught a glimpse of its eyes - deep, soulful pools that seemed to hold a strange power. For a moment, it was as if the creature was looking directly at them, acknowledging their presence in its domain.

Other beasts that dotted the landscape were equally fantastical. A flock of enormous birds with wings shimmering with iridescent colors, spanning at least a dozen feet across, took flight as the convoy passed. They flew in a perfectly synchronized formation that shifted and changed like a kaleidoscope in the sky.

In the distance, a herd of what appeared to be wild boars grazed. But as the operators focused their binoculars, they realized these were no ordinary swine. Their coats were a deep, hellish red, and had tusks that seemed to glow red hot as they stabbed into the ground, singing the grass and dirt with each jab.

“I wonder if they taste good.” Bennett suddenly spoke up about the otherworldly boars that caught everyone off guard. They had been so engrossed in the strange beauty of the landscape that the idea of actually interacting with it, let alone eating it, seemed almost sacrilegious.

"Dude, the whiplash," Schwarz said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I like how we went from conspiring an assassination plot to a fucking barbecue."

"Hey, a man's gotta eat, alright. And those pigs look like they'd make some damn fine bacon."

Bennett shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hell, they might even come pre-roasted."

A few chuckles broke out amongst the group, but their eyes eventually were drawn to Azeline for an answer. The woman was riding in the back of the cart, peering over Yana's tiny shoulder, staring at the small laptop Elijah had set up to entertain the little fairy in case of extended periods of boredom. She seemed completely oblivious to everything around her as she lay on her stomach with her head propped up on her hands and her legs kicking lazily in the air.

Azeline, on the other hand, had finally noticed that everyone's attention was once again focused on her. She split her attention between the curious display and the men who were now staring at her for an answer. The elf’s head snapped back and forth with an expression that said she was both confused as to what they wanted and annoyed at the fact they wanted something from her.

"What?" she said, her voice sharp. "Why are all of you staring at me?"

The men raised their eyebrows in disbelief as they stared at her incredulously. Before even coming here, they knew that modern media would probably have a rather… potent effect, but seeing it in action was something else entirely.

Unable to contain himself, Bennett chose to speak up. "Sorry to interrupt your episode of Power Rangers, but-"

However, he was suddenly cut off by Yana, who jumped to her feet and punched the air with her tiny fists. "Ya! Get 'em, Red! Get 'em!" she cheered enthusiastically

Snapping her head back to the screen, a gasp escaped Azeline’s lips as her eyes widened, and an "ohhh" of excitement formed on her face. In this part of the episode, the Red Ranger flew through the air, executing a perfect flying kick that sent the monster tumbling away.

The men watched in stunned silence while jaws went slack with disbelief. Here they were, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, plotting small-scale regime change and bacon, and their two most crucial allies were utterly absorbed in a children's television show.

Bennett, his patience wearing thin, clapped his hands loudly. "Hey! Hey, pay attention!" he called out, his voice sharp with frustration.

Azeline spun around, a snarl twisting her delicate features. "What!? What do you want!?" she snapped, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

Elijah couldn’t help but quietly let out a strange laugh before looking up. “Can we... Can we eat those burning boar things?” he asked as he jerked his finger over at the creatures in the distance.

The elf's head snapped towards Elijah, her eyes narrowing. "Sure," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm and irritation. "If you want to shit fire and burn a hole through your guts in the process."

Without waiting for a response, Azeline turned back to her show, her attention once again consumed by the colorful antics on the screen.

A sigh left Elijah’s mouth as he brought his hand up and started rubbing his face in a soothing manner. He could feel a headache starting to take hold as a dull throbbing sensation seemed to take hold with the absurdity of the situation.

But before they could fully process this new information, their headsets crackled to life. "Baron Actual, this is Warlock," came the voice of the SASR contingent leader. "We've got eyes on a concentration of armed personnel five klicks up the road. Hold one."

Elijah and Coleman exchanged a loaded glance, and a creeping smile spread across the medic’s face.

"Showtime," a low and grim sort of eagerness left Elijah’s mouth.