In the once-abandoned underground fortress of Daal-Khazgun, deep within the Mountains of Dead Titans, an immense cult of Dragon Worshipers has congregated, hoping to utilize a necromantic ritual to raise up a Titan eons after it's death, for it is said that the great and terrible Ancient Dragons first rose forth from the Titans' corpses. Only one force stands against them. The Legion of the Griffin, lead by the half-elf Asmund. Though they are strong warriors, and well equipped, they cannot hope to stand against the sheer fanaticism and unholy sorceries of the cult in open combat. As such, the only other possibility is a mass ambush, a single decisive attack from which to shatter the enemy force. The plan itself simple, but the execution won't be. Plant their greatest warriors among the leaders of the cult, and assassinate the chain of command when the main force attacks... Carrying out this plan is a band of five warriors of different walks of life, whom fate has cursed with misfortune during the early stages. Now they have to find a way to fix the dire situation, or risk a massacre.
...
In a dark room dimly lit by the soft torchlight shining in through iron bars, two warriors sit, deprived of their weapons and restrained by ropes. To pass the time, they make idle chatter. One of them, a Lukamoryean Bogatyr, speaks;
"When we get out of here, you will receive ass-kicking of thorough and merciless variety, you stupid animal."
He said it with the same amount of passion one would give to an idle remark about the weather.
The difficulty of the plan was hinged on that there was no fully developed idea of how they were going to get in. When it came time to take the mission, they had to improvise. The architect of the plan was Secundus, known to be a loose cannon but a magnificent tactician. Only those who have worked with him seen his true nature, and that nature was true audacity. He retorted enthusiastically at this comment from the much larger and imposing Ivan.
"Come now! It wasn't my fault this time! This time... it was your hot sister's fault!"
Secundus spoke with a tone that could be read as either thick sarcasm or a frustrated ego. Perhaps both at the same time somehow, or perhaps simply whichever upset Ivan more.
"For last time! She is grandmother! And she is Witch!"
"I can't really tell the difference, and so it makes no difference!"
As Secundus spoke, Ivan closed his eyes and elaborated on his previous statement.
"Thorough. And. Merciless."
Though it was true that the first bump in the plan occurred when Tanya was forced to reveal herself (in a terrifying display of dark magic no less) it was likely that the long stack of problematic dominoes Secundus had set in the process of trying to disguise their way in would have fallen upon them in only a matter of time. It could also be said it was still the fault of Secundus for choosing an unstable sociopath as the team's token mage in the first place.
Down the hall, two cloaked figures made their way swiftly through the darkness, their footfalls leaving no sound upon the weathered cobblestones. They wore the black robes of the decadent cult, which were all too suitable for concealing secret weapons. Upon passing the cell in which Secundus and Ivan were held, one outstretched a hand, clinking on the iron bars and loosing a small object stored from within the sleeve. Secundus eyed it and grinned, wiggling his foot out of his boot to pick the metal sphere with his toes before slipping his foot back in.
"You see that Ivan? Just like I said. I'm too pretty to die here."
Ivan made a vocalization resembling a hybrid between a groan and a snarl, it seems the Atlantean had some sort of plot after all, and it was unlikely Ivan was going to be let in on it... as was usually the case.
"Oh I'm sorry, we're too pretty to die here, big guy."
...
The cloaked figures pass. As do the minutes, and eventually the hours, and soon, the days. The central members of the cult prepare to perform the ritual, bolstered by the gift of a Witch to act as an additional sacrifice. As she attempted to stop their endeavor, she shall be slain alongside the two other intruders. As Secundus and Ivan are lead slowly to the ritual hall where they will meet their doom, Secundus begins making a point to stamp his foot on the ground. When the toes of his boots begin to warm up, he halts his efforts. To pass the time, he makes idle chatter with Ivan.
"Hey Ivan, remember when we first..."
"Silence."
"You're telling me to shut up?"
Secundus spoke as if he were deeply offended.
A cultist chimed in as she swung a wooden club directly into Secundus's kneecap, sending him momentarily to the floor;
"I agree! Shut up, you stupid animal!"
By the Gods, it was Eydis, who happened to be no less than the Lady to whom Ivan swore an oath of protection, back when she had tricked him into thinking she was a noble. It was his love for her that brought him to this chaotic band of outcasts, and the love of his grandmother that kept him here. It seemed now that love was fated to be a death sentence. He couldn't say if he still loved Eydis, not after tricking him and using him, but alas, he had made an oath, and would ensure her safety no matter the cost. As per the status quo, up until this point he had not known Eydis was part of the plan, but she certainly made an entrance, with Secundus only now managing to pick himself back up. Ivan's rare chuckle echoed, but halted the moment they came to the ritual hall. The club-bearing "cultist" gave Ivan a tap on the shoulder, and he felt his binds loosen just enough.
They were set upon altars, with sharp ritual blades laying across their chests. Tanya, was struggling to avoid going berserk as a circle of salt kept her from unleashing any magic. Secundus felt the temperature in his boot increase... it would go off at any moment. Ivan could loose himself from these bonds at choice, but that would be suicide without a big distraction. Eydis walked slowly past the salt circle, and Tanya's eyes started glowing red the moment Eydis dragged her foot along to break it. The gathered cultists began to take their seats for the beginning ceremony. Eydis stood next to the iron cage holding the civilian prisoners they have gathered thus far. The last of the warriors, Asmund himself, had taken the guise of a lower ranking cultist, and found himself last in line to take his seat, as was advised by Secundus himself. As the speech began, he thought fearfully to himself how they were going to get out of his alive, if this was going to be the last stand of his Legion, of everything he had ever worked for. His stomach sank, and as he took his seat, the final piece of the plan was revealed. The activation of a small device fashioned from one of the fruits of animal sacrifice, a spare organ nobody would have missed, Secundus's own invention.
"Hey Ivan."
"Yes?"
"Hold my Dignity. I did something ridiculous."
"...What did..."
Asmund took his seat, and it happened.
A hundred black hoods, painted with the blood of lambs and embroidered with the hair of children, turned in unison at the sound of the "Whoopee Cushion" emanating from underneath Asmund's cloaked arse, the noise only amplified by the immensity of the great stone hall they were held in. It was the sound of true audacity. And in that instant of distraction the final stage of the plan had been set in motion.
Secundus kicked his now smoking shoe off toward the cultists, the alchemical device within seconds from detonation.
Ivan broke free of his bonds and armed himself with the sacrificial blades.
Wreathed in fire, Tatiana bared gleaming iron teeth in a vicious smile as she stepped through the broken barrier.
Eydis freed the prisoners with a key she had procured, and armed them with stolen knives.
Asmund watched in terror and admiration as the chaos unfolded before him.
Outside, the Legion began their assault.
...
And so, with the Legion of the Griffin's victory over the Draconic cultists at the battle of Daal-Khazgun, they had proved their worth to the world, and made another brave step toward Asmund's noble dream, that one day the adventurers and heroes of the world would gather in a single army, an organized force of righteousness, to find and strike down evil wherever it grows. The eyes of Kings and Emperors now turn on them, and they enjoy the rewards of victory for a few short months as an influx of recruits bolster their numbers. Hearing of his exploits, countless factions attempt to recruit the infamous Secundus to their cause (mostly anonymously) and yet he turns down any incentive imaginable, claiming of course to be above such things. For to bow to the whims of Kings and Emperors would be to abandon his nature, and that nature was true audacity.
...
"Hey Ivan, remember when we first met and I told you I could rout a small army with a goat bladder?"
Ivan made a vocalization resembling a hybrid between a groan and a snarl.