Casteviedan Ordinant

 

The creaking sound of a leather glove chafing against metal cut into the silence. The Legionaries had already cast their weapons aside and now cowered in the trenches, as eight black wings of death emerged from the skies. An octet of dragons faced them, like infernal harbingers of the end.   Alone in his defiance, the Ordinant raised the radio to his ear. Leaning back on his hip, as the man’s left thumb idly brushed against the cold steel of his holstered gun. “Let the Golden Dawn shine a reckoning on the servants of the bleakest night.” He ushered into the transmitter, before letting it fall against his leg. An ice cold smirk then grew on his lips. His gaze scrutinized every step the Dyskhari forces took, with hungry anticipation.   As the Casteviedan forces crumbled beneath the shadow of the black dragons’ wings, they prayed for salvation from the coming acid torrent. Then, like their god himself heeded the call - a piercing glow breached the horizon. A projectile sun screamed across the land at a phase neither man nor elf could comprehend. The skies opened up to a deafening thunder. Like the symphonic orchestra of a million rifles shooting straight out of heaven's gate. Transforming the molten orb into a hundred burning stars that tore apart the veil of night, ushering midnight into a blinding golden sky. A light which shattered the dragons into naught but soot and smoke, leaving the Dyskhari below frozen in terror as the ashen rain of shrapnel and fire enacted an uncompromising vengeance upon them.   As darkness reclaimed the world, the Ordinant already marched through the trenches and into the dancing dust. Morale was reborn by the burning edge of his coat, as with wild eyes and with a mad grin, a death sentence was fulfilled for every bullet that left his broomhandle. One arm stretched to the limits, the other hand resting on his hip as he marched forth. Impervious to the shaken accuracy of the dark elven army. Orchestrating the hail of shells, as he howled to his men.   “We are the sons and daughters of Casteviedo. We were born to stare back into the eye of fear and bask in the chaotic glory of the storm. We are Ysand’s mad hounds of war, and we will show these gray skinned bastards what it means to fight Casteviedans! To the ends of our last, dying, breath. Charge!”

    An Ordinant is a specialized field commander, most often serving as a Decanus or Optio, that is trained in the art of spotting. Requiring an academic master’s degree in Field Tactics, Reconnaissance and Field Intelligence as well as a major in Heavy Ballistics and Military Doctrine.   On top of this, they require at least five years in active service behind them and the commendation of superiors to be eligible for these specially tailored university courses.       A clockwork modified broomhandle pistol. The gun can be calibrated to fire rapid shots at a lower accuracy and impact, or to unleash armour piercing bullets at a slow phase but with precise shots - at the cost of some significant recoil that risks breaking the wrist if held improperly when overcharged.   The officers pattern gives it a skeleton frame where the mechanisms are visible to the eye through the stock, with a bronze coloured handle, ironsight and muzzle.     A square metal box filled with copper wires, coords and clockwheels that rotate in an electric symphony emitting resonant signals. Transports sound waves that the microphone part collects to systems working on the same wavelength.   This tool is often seen as the Ordinant’s main weapon due to the incredible tactical advantages long range comms possess, especially against technologically inferior opponents.       A thick leather trench coat, reminiscent of the old Casteviedan police officers that protected their regional capital to its bitter fall. Now reinforced with padded shoulders, adorned by a deep green cloak signifying their allegiance to the Casteviedo III Revenant Legion.   Upon their chest a bandolier runs down with the pistol holstered to their breast, above an olive green decorative officer’s shirt. The coat is held snugly around the upper body by a tight leather belt, which fastens the radio and transmitter bound to the Ordinant’s hip. Often with a pair of grenades strapped beside their sheathed Casteviedan Gladius.   Resting on the Ordinant’s head is the Lawmaker’s Dress Cap. A hat which has been directly repurposed from the old police force with a singular differing detail. Its crest, once made up by the letters C.P.D written in gold, is now instead the symbol of a nine-tailed bleak sun. A direct relation to the will of the Holy Imperator - and the divine sacrifice of Ysand.