Headed by a Snake

Decanus Constantina leapt sideways through a pair of stalagmites, splashing onto a puddle of stagnant water, and rolling on the uneven cave terrain. Getting back to her feet, she sprinted towards the light, as fast as she could.

Her scouts were waiting-- no... The archers were waiting. The only ones left amongst them belonging to her were Hestia and Rena.

The remaining archers were second-string knuckleheads, the lot of them... but Constantina could at least rely on Hestia's rapid-firing arrows and Rena's saint-like aim.

Seven hells... She cursed underneath her breath. Nothing in the cave happened as she'd hoped.

She, herself, volunteered to be the lead scout. Sixtus denied her. Still, she insisted. She accompanied the Shields as their rear guard.

Proserpina was chosen, instead-- one of the injured archers, a weapons-master who used to be part of her tent groups.

As skilled as she was, the Flame-scarred creature found her before she found it.

The monster was impossibly quiet... hidden in the darkness. It stood taller than a man, yet was motionless and invisible amongst the cave's large natural rock formations.

It ambushed her lead scout, dropping from the ceiling like a Flame-taken bat.

Another of her family was taken away from her... just like before.

The creature's heavy leonine claws held Proserpina's chest steady. Its maned head bit down on the whole of her torso. She heard it again, a sound that would haunt her nightmares forever. She could swear it was laughing-- chortling as it chewed Proserpina's flesh and bone with an open maw.

Even though the creature's jaws could certainly bite through her spine... it didn't. Instead, it... it pulled. The meat that used to be Proserpina tore, her skin and flesh cut into gruesome ribbons. Its laughing voice was high-pitched... mocking... blood and entrails spilling messily down onto the fur of its paws and chest.

Proserpina was killed. Constantina blamed herself.

The girl died screaming, horrified... as her body was slowly ripped apart.

Constantina knew it was her fault... It was always her fault.

The Shield-bearing Decani and Munifices were amongst the best the Rhodoks had to offer... the best that were still alive. Bronze and Iron-Ranks, they were led by Iron-Rank Sixtus and Cyrac. They could even risk an offense in relative safety, due to the presence of the Gold-Rank Healer, Fortuna.

Amongst them, they claimed literal heroes of Tyrion-- peerless melee combatants, proven in the Realm Wars and the skirmishes and mercenary disputes that followed.

Optio Sixtus had the Champion class, wielding a radiant blade against his enemies. He was their core, protecting the Rhodoks with a reinforced shield, impossibly heavy armor, and unrelenting faith.

She respected the Optio's rank and begrudgingly acceded that he was the Rhodoks' strongest and most invincible combatant.

Centurion Cyrac was a Fighter, wielding sword and spear with deadly, unerring accuracy and precision. He always moved to support his Rhodoks with a well-placed strike. Decades of martial combat only seemed to temper his abilities.

Constantina had never gotten along well with leadership, but Cyrac always remained professional with her. She respected that.

The two together crafted and refined foolproof plans for the Rhodoks... always with a keen sense of strategy, battle tactics, and troop positioning... Never before had they erred... not until... the Rhodoks accepted this mission.

Decanus Constantina finally reached the cave entrance, blinded by the sudden light. She took a short moment to catch her breath.

The archers had all taken cover around a comfortably large ledge against the mountainside. The area was wide enough that she could disperse them so only two at a time would be vulnerable to the creature's attacks. If they were targeted... only the Flame could help them, then.

They were ready, their bows nocked, their crossbows loaded. Each bolt and arrow gleamed a dim silver glow, obvious to her keen eyes, even in the sunlight.

When the creature emerged from its lair, it would be met with all of Constantina's fury: a vengeful hailstorm of enchanted bolts and arrows. She was wagering all of her mana, all of her archers... all of her hopes, on that initial strike.

She rushed to cover, vaulting over a fallen boulder and ducking down behind its protective cover.

It was the furthest ambush point from the cave and provided a clear line of fire that wouldn't risk injuring the approaching Shields.

Munifices Hestia and Rena placed themselves there, her two best scouts. With Proserpina gone, they were her last two remaining family members.

Hestia was the best archer she had-- claiming the powerful Ranger class. It was no miracle that she had survived the kobold onslaught. Though she was separated from her tent group, she relied on her survivalist skills, her melee prowess at wielding two short swords, and her keen judgment to survive. She brought back more than a few dog ears pinned to her belt.

"Are you well, Sister?" She asked.

"I'm fine," Constantina lied. "Stay on guard."

Munifex Rena looked to her with starry eyes, full of worry, "Decanus..."

The poor girl was a fish less than a week prior. Combat made them grow quickly.

It was something Constantina knew well.

"Shut your Flame-scarred mouth, Munifex-- I don't want to hear it," Constantina growled, keeping her voice low.

Conceal the pain. Men and women die. As much as her heart ached, she would not show her weakness in front of her last two younger sisters.

Rena was the most promising Munifex Constantina had met in her entire career. The girl had good eyes and an archer's instincts. When she was ordered, she'd fire first, asking questions afterward-- good questions with the intellect usually reserved for a Decanus or Officer.

She was also young, unafraid, and full of hope... all things that Constantina considered detrimental to her growth as a female in a military profession.

Constantina would train her. She would instill in her fear and a sense of caution. She would teach her to doubt.

And once the Holy Bolter was guarded, no situation-- no enemy would make her cry.

Constantina would selfishly take that burden from her and more. It was by her orders that her archers shot and killed their enemies. It was by her decisions that young men and women were sent to their deaths-- dying without complete corpses.

When the creature was finally killed and her family avenged, she could finally mourn the dead. She could finally apologize for all of her faults.

When the nightmares would come, she would beg Proserpina for forgiveness.

"Did Pina die a quick death?" Hestia asked.

"She died honorably," Constantina lied again.

"Are... are we going to be okay?" The young Rena asked hopefully.

Constantina grit her teeth. Her answer was silence.

"This thing... It's killed so many people." The crossbow girl squeaked in a small voice, "M-maybe I should have brought my boyfriend..."

Hestia grimaced. She took her right hand off of her bowstring, rolling her shoulder and stretching her arm back, "A word of advice, little Sister: If you have faith in someone, they'll let you down. He is a man, after all."

The young crossbow girl's face turned a shade of crimson, "A-are you saying... that I should date a woman?"

Constantina narrowed her eyes, "Both men and women are capable of betraying your trust."

Hestia opened her mouth to respond-- but was interrupted by a thunderous crack of the boulder they hid behind. Dust kicked up in the surroundings.

Not good... With that, the archers were blind.

The Munifices under her command began to shout...

"It's HERE!!" "I can't see SHITE!" "Hold your fire! HOLD!!!" "Where is it?!!"

Constantina began to stand, to shout her orders... but then the second peal of thunder split the air.