Of course the battle had not gone according to plan. They never do, but the loss of our leader's namesake, Sig Richter, created a numbness in me that I had not expected. He had become as close as many of the men I had known in the Ten Years War, even as he was so quiet and enigmatic.
I picked through the burning remains of the camp along with the others, virtually untouched myself. I cut at myself for not being right with the frontal assault group now or forcing the cavalry to approach closer in the darkness before the wagon of powder was to arrive at the camp to cut down on the arrival time. Yet I knew it would have made little difference for Sig. He had thrown himself headlong into his front role and he had made the call when to set off the carnage at the most effective time, with hardly a concern for himself. By the Shield Maidens he had shown the grit and courage of a true Red Shield this night. With some luck, we would find enough remains to bring him back but I knew that things would never be the same.
Whether the band of Richter Holdings would remain together seemed in question at the moment. Looking at Silah and barely saved Hakaar, I reflected how their destiny now was set upon a different path from ours. Duncan had asked me to accompany him, keep an eye out for the oversized youth, seemingly so long ago now. That was before the giants, before Duncan's death, before the resealing of the Veil, before the tunnel and the formless there, and before this critical point to bring peace to both Silah's heart and Hannover. There was little doubt, given the power of the demon barely vanquished and the siren leader of this mad cult, that the sacrifices of this night were worthwhile. What was in question now was only, what now?
Whatever course I took now, the thought started to dawn on me that I needed to retrain. In an engagement like this one, I considered my fighting style matched to the battle. I fought like a heavy soldier on the line, relying upon some flank coverage, taking blows and dealing with the opponent before me. With the thought of Hakaar's departure, I realized I needed to be more a line breaker than a line holder like that. I needed to be more like my old friend Duncan of the Grasslions than a Red Shield. I had to chuckle, imagining my friend Duncan smirking at that ironic inspiration. Very well, old friend, very well.
I would seek out the good Guard Captain of Hannover, Sergeant Conti, and explain to the others that I had some retraining to get done. Training that would be far more possible when we split up the spoils of battle and the magical belt, depicting a titan, was agreed to be mine for that purpose. With the belt of physical perfection, I went to learn that new fighting style with the guard captain's help.