Ashan 69th of Arc 711
The drillmistress and her assistants headed for the rampaging beast, not checking whether Yana followed. Whether it was a sign of trust or simple apathy, the Yludih didn’t know. She didn’t mind, taking the time to reconfirm her physical state, and get her gear back in order. There were a lot of different aches pulsing in her body, all clamoring for attention. The loudest were her chest and arm, though not to the point of being unbearable. That changed when there was some pressure put on it, however. Yet, the extent of her injuries was somewhat less serious than those a fleshling in the exact same situation might have sustained. There were no organs to damage, no blood vessels to rupture. No brain to concuss, and no bones to break.
Well, with or without skeleton, her body itself was not immune to breakage. Composed of dense crystal from top to bottom --inside and out, all the way through-- a lot more force was necessary to cause large fractures. Still, that did not mean Yana didn’t feel any pain. The impact of the bear thundering into her, followed by the brief moments of flight and subsequent crash back down had not left her untouched.
Her chest felt mostly fine under her careful probing, apart from the area around her asterism. Something cracked audibly when she examined it with her fingers, an immediate wave of torment caused her to withdraw her hand through reflex. Ever the weak and sensitive point of Yludih anatomy, she shouldn't be surprised the crystal around it had gained spiderweb cracks which had partially shattered under her touch. As a whole, her chest flared up with pain when she twisted or stretched, but otherwise it was alright. On the other hand, every time her asterism pulsed to send warmth and energy through her body, so too did a full set of kitchen knives go ham on the lone organ. Yana hissed and flinched, keeping her chest and asterism as steady as possibly by ceasing to breathe, but it only helped marginally. The problem was the heart-like nature of the Yludih organ, it being something she couldn't really do without. As a constant, the sharp pain was easier to adapt to than expected, though she still had to force herself to soldier through it. Still, it took her a few minutes of intense focus to get used to it, doubled over and clutching her chest.
The shield arm was a different story altogether. Though it only bothered her when she used it, or put weight or pressure on it, the sudden onset of the white-hot throbs always seemed to catch her by surprise. Strapping her shield to it was a challenge, the added weight constantly pulling, eliciting thrumming shocks of hurt. Lifting it was possible, though rather uncomfortable and torturous. The longer she held it up, the more strain was put on it, the more her body protested. Letting her in no uncertain terms know that it didn’t appreciate this. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in a situation where she could opt to discard the shield completely.
Looking at the bear going to town on the wall of wood and steel, the turtle formation created by the organized cadets, Yana wasn’t really excited to risk her life trying to stop its rampage. However she couldn’t exactly refuse to act. Inaction would be labeled as cowardice or insubordination. She’d be disciplined at best, and immediately removed from the military at worst. Neither were desirable outcomes, so she began staggering in the direction of the group, sword ready and shield… well, that arm hung mostly limp. The weight of the shield was too much for the injured limb to keep in position as per regulations.
Giving the armored beast a large berth, Yana arrived at the back end of the phalanx a little behind her superiors, who were in the middle of redistributing the tasks of commanding the cadets. Under the left-behind assistant, two groups had already formed. One of archers who constantly rained down arrows on the raging beast, their aim more than enough for following the instructions the assistant barked. None of them were sharpshooters, which usually didn’t matter too much. A cloud of arrows brought chaos and pain to the enemy ranks, always finding some unprotected spots to bite into. On normal soldiers, that was enough. On the armored bear, it clearly wasn’t. Most projectiles broke on its bone plates, and those that did strike flesh did not really seem to bother it.
The other group had linked shields, forming a wall and roof of metal reinforced wood, protecting the soldiers in training from the bear’s teeth and claws. However, with each swipe, with each body slam, the phalanx dented. The cadets groaned, fighting to keep their footing. The first row was forced into the second, and the second into the third, and the third… Yet as a group they managed to push back, the tortoise shell did not break. Any attack to the roof was much harder to endure however. Those paw smacks carried far more power than you’d expect, forcing the shield-bearers beneath them onto their knees.
Fortunately, the beast was incapable of comprehending the different response of the phalanx to its attacks. To the bear, its attacks were stopped by a hard shell every time, and the only option was to try to get through again and again. Using its weight to try and topple the formation, slashing with the large claws to take out chunks of wood from the shields, leaving deep gashes. It tried to bite every so often, but those attacks were met with little success. Those attempts brought its head within striking range, and there always was one cadet all too eager to stab the beast with their sword. Sometimes the same happened when the monster threw its body against the wall, but generally the would-be soldiers were too occupied with keeping their balance and stumbling backwards to counterattack.
One of the newly arrived assistants took over command of the phalanx, roaring encouragement and warnings, ordering when to brace and when to attempt a quick stab. He instructed the lines to switch when possible, preventing the front walls to succumb after repeated exposure to the crippling blows of the angered beast. Then like an oiled machine, the first line fell back while the second row stepped forwards, swapping places without compromising on defense. The former first line continued the maneuver with the lines behind it, effectively migrating to the back of the phalanx. And another was subject to the monster’s rage-filled assault for a while.
Meanwhile, Jeesa and the remaining assistant distanced themselves from the fight somewhat, where the drillmistress had her sidekick help her don a heavy set of plate armor.
Yana, directionless at the moment, was not certain what to do. Joining the phalanx did not strike her as a great idea, especially with her cracked shield arm. She’d likely be more of a hindrance rather than a help. Additionally, the formation required an even amount of soldiers, as a latecomer she could not join in unless someone else fell. Not that she bemoaned it, the further from that monstrous bear she was, the better. Still, standing around made her feel useless, a feeling she despised. Mind made up, the Yludih stepped up to the assistant commanding the archers.
“Ma’am! Is there anything I can do?”
The scarred woman in charge barked the order to reload at her improvised Wing, then turned to the human-looking shapeshifter. “You the one who got sent flying?” It didn’t really sound like a question, but Yana responded affirmatively anyway. The female assistant’s gaze shifted back to the bear for a moment. “Left, ten degrees! Angle: sixty-five!” More or less simultaneously, the archers altered their stances, bows swinging left, arrows pointing up diagonally. “Draw! FIRE!” Another swarm of deadly projectiles took to the sky to rain down on the enemy a moment or two later. “Nock arrow!” The assistant focused on Yana again, eyes scanning her up and down.
“Can you even draw a bow with that arm?”
Immediately, Yana opened her mouth to claim she could, but stopped halfway through. Her jaw snapped shut. For a moment, the Yludih considered. In an attempt to minimize the pain, her body had subconsciously changed the way she held herself. At her side, the shield arm hung limp, it being the position which put the least amount of strain on it. Yana tried to raise it, then winced. Drawing a bow would be even more difficult, even if the damaged arm was not the one to draw the bowstring back.
“I don’t … think so, ma’am,” the Yludih admitted.
Jeesa’s assistant spat another set of commands at her unit, face turned ponderous. Then, she nodded. “Strap your shield to the other arm, cadet, so it might still be of use if you need it.” Yana obeyed, swapping the heavy wood-and-metal disk to her sword arm --resorting to using mouth and teeth for some of the straps, her injured arm screaming too much for her to bear using it to tighten the tough leather bands-- and immediately felt her injured limb sigh with relief. “Right. Stand close, keep an eye on the beast. Observe it. Look for weaknesses, tricks up its sleeve, dangers that aren’t obvious to those unable to pay attention to them. Behavioral patterns. That sort of thing. Share all you see immediately, no matter how obvious.” Yana nodded, and took position next to the assistant, choosing a spot that gave her the best view on the bear.
Keeping her eyes peeled, she began analyzing it to the best of her ability while the creature furiously swiped at the wall of shields. She took note of the few crusts of blood sticking to its fur, though it seemed to be uninjured. Of the way it moved, unhindered by the heavy and stiff plates covering its back and sides.
“Unarmored underside, ma’am!” she called.
Arrows fell down like lethal raindrops, most deflected by the bone armor. “There’s weak spots in the armor to allow for full range of motion,” Yana shared. The beast flexed its back, the plates snapped the arrows in half, though the tips remained inside its flesh. She wondered if the beats would be hindered in its movements if enough arrowheads filled the gaps. Once again it smashed into the wall the would-be soldiers stumbling backwards for a few steps, then steadying themselves using the combined strength of everyone in the formation. Swords flashed from between shields, stabbing, hacking, slashing at the brown fur.
The beast gave a pained roar, backing off for a moment. Blood streamed from unprotected spots on its side, though the flow slowed dramatically during the next few seconds. By the time Yana had counted to five, no crimson escaped anymore. What she did see was a curious glow, barely visible through the monster's thick fur. “The beast heals itself!” she called, and then: “There’s glowing symbols on its forelegs!” A particularly vicious swipe nearly knocked the full front line of the phalanx over, a couple of the shields cracked, held only together by the metal banding.
“Any other instances of symbols on its body, cadet?” the lady assistant queried in between commands shouted at her unit of bowmen.
Yana squinted, trying to scan the creature, a task made more difficult by the beasts utter refusal to stop moving for even a second. It always was backing off, charging in, or attacking, and the few moments spent in a semi-stationary state were spent hidden by the phalanx. However, now knowing what she was looking for, Yana did discover more of the symbols, all glowing with a soft mercury sheen.
“Yes, ma’am! Two on the chest!”
“Different symbols?”
“Affirmative! One moon-shaped, one squiggly. Those on the forelegs are circles with lines and curls. Same symbol on both legs.”
The assistant cussed. “No wonder we’re having such trouble. How fucking mad--? FIRE! Is Jeesa geared up yet?” Yana turned to look, uncertain how Jeesa would be able to tip the scales, but not willing to voice the thought. “About three quarters done, ma’am!”
Another string of colorful swearwords. “Guess we’ll have to hold out somehow then!”
