“I know you are questioning the Legion, I did once also. When you have experienced the fight, we are engaged in for yourself, you will no longer hold any such childish notions! If you truly want to protect your loved ones from the horrors of the Dungeon, then you’ve come to the right place. The Abyssal Legion stands on the front line against the true threats. For thousands of years, we have done battle far beneath the surface, an unending war that few people in Liria have ever heard of.”
Her glare intensified.
“Come.”
Aurillia turned and pushed open heavy wooden doors that separated their ward from the rest of the Legionary building, and marched briskly through. The former trainees followed closely behind, trying not to stare at the bustle around them. Legionaries in their customary blackened leather armour stood in guard positions down every corridor or passage they moved through, auxiliaries dashed about delivering papers, meals, equipment or any of the million other tasks the Legion needed done in order to operate. The new Legionaries were hardly spared a glance as they followed behind Aurillia, escorted by the Centurions who followed them.
The castle was carved directly into the wall of the space in which Rylleh was situated. As with all things the Legion constructed, it was built on very clean lines, straight corridors and square rooms, giving the entire structure a very austere feeling. It was easy to tell the structure was old. Possibly too old.
Mirryn made a few mental estimations before she came to the shocking realisation that this base, indeed, the city of Railleh itself, probably predated Liria by a considerable amount of time. The Legion had been here long before the nation of her birth had even been created. This whole city?
It didn’t make sense. Why would the surface be so neglected that it was the last place to be developed, to be made habitable for people? She thought of her family and their humble history, working hard to carve out a life for themselves in the frontier kingdoms and the pride they felt at what they achieved in such trying circumstances.
Was it all a joke? There’s an entire city down here! Long before her ancestors had even thought to join the expedition to the frontier.
As she muddled through her conflicted feelings, the passage they were travelling through suddenly opened into a vast hall. Mirryn gasped, shocked out of her thoughts by the grand scale of the space. A high arched ceiling, buttressed by powerful columns of stone, had been carved straight into the rock. Ornate, almost delicate supports, stretched across the empty space to give strength and proportion to the stone.
Clusters of glowstones illuminated the room in bright light, causing Mirryn to squint against the sudden glare. Down the centre of the room, between the columns, stood two rows of stone statues raised on marble plinths. Each of the figures was a masterpiece. Incredibly detailed, perfectly proportioned. The level of skill that would go into making such a perfect piece of art boggled the young Legionaries minds.
Each of the statues was a Legionary. Men and women in full battle armour, weapons in hand, standing ready. Most of them were of advanced age, clearly senior officers or veteran soldiers. Scars criss-crossed their faces and arms, their expressions hard, as if there was little they hadn’t seen. So lifelike were they, it felt as if they could jump down from their plinths and stride into battle at any moment.
“This is the hall of remembrance,” Aurillia said over her shoulder. “Here, the greatest members of our branch have been immortalised in stone, preserved for history and for the battles to come.”
She pointed to one of the figures toward the end of the room as they continued to stride through the hall. “Over there is commander Titus’ father, Magnus.”
Almost despite themselves, the young Legionaries felt their heads snap around to stare at the statue in the distance. A tall, bull-shouldered figure stood there, a great two-handed held casually in one hand. Even at this distance, Mirryn could see the statue’s features; the broad chin, stern eyes and thick neck were the same as commander Titus.
Some of the new Legionaries were somewhat surprised to learn the commander even had a father. They’d felt as if he’d walked fully formed out of a mountainside…
Once through the hall they were quickly brought into the armoury. Before a large ornate door stood the commander himself, a rare half smile on his lips as he watched his newest Legionaries assemble before him.
Oddly, he didn’t say a word. He simply turned and pushed open the door before indicating with his head that they should walk through.
Mirryn had somehow found herself in the front. Feeling somewhat nervous, she stepped through the grand door and into the darkened space on the other side, cautiously letting her eyes adjust to the gloom before moving too far.
As her vision improved, her footsteps slowed until she was completely still, dumbstruck.
Lining the walls on either side of the room were massive suits of armour of obsidian stone and polished steel. An endless network of enchantments webbed the plates, the glittering blue light of residual Mana providing most of the illumination in the space.
What the heck are these? Mirryn thought in wonder.
The commander grinned. “Who wants to suit up first?”
92. The World Below, Part 5
Titus didn’t wait for the Legionaries to answer and immediately started calling names, lining everyone up before him in name order. The young soldiers were so accustomed to following his orders that doing as he said was almost instinctual.
In the dim light, the commander looked as impressive as always. His solid frame and clear eyes were reassuring to everyone in the Legion, even if they didn’t know how to feel about it at the time.
Once everyone was lined up appropriately, Titus raised his voice to address them.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Legion!” He smiled warmly, a rare sight indeed. “Welcome! You have endured the pain and come through the other side. It is time to add the finishing touches to your induction as full Legionaries.”
He gestured to the armoured suits that lined the walls. “What you see here is more Legionary tech developed thousands of years ago during the Rending. Magical theory was highly advanced at that time, and in their desperation, the creators of the Legion experimented with hundreds of different ways to increase their strength to defeat the monsters and preserve the light of civilisation. The baptism you endured is one such technique, these suits of armour are another.”
He walked toward the nearest suit and knocked against the melded steel and stone plate. A hard clang rang out, ringing in the air. The armour was massive and bulky, impossibly so. Even Titus, as powerful and broad as he was, looked like he would struggle to move when weighed down by the sheer mass of the suit.
Donnelan in particular was confused. He was a mage, used to wearing only light leather armour. Anything heavier would reduce his mobility to the point where it would be difficult for him to impact the battlefield where and when he was needed. The Legion didn’t subscribe to the ‘soft’ mage approach of cloth armour and little combat training. Some forces preferred to have their mages spend all of their time in study. The Legion took a different approach. Donnelan had been forced to endure harsh physical training, maintain his own leather armour and equipment, as well as learning how to defend himself with his staff or even bare hands.
But surely they wouldn’t expect him to clunk around like a turtle inside one of these things?
“This is Abyssal armour,” announced Titus, a touch of reverence coming through in his tone. “Even now we struggle to reproduce the incredible level of craftsmanship that was achieved during the Cataclysm, and these suits have been made right here in Rylleh.”