The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Leaving his portion of the Rally Station to attend the skirmish between recruits immediately reminded Randidly that this place had been quite a dump before he had begun terraforming his area. He walked alone toward the bleak and squat grey buildings at the center of the Rally Station while Helen gleefully took the recruits through the toughest physical training exercise yet. Something that would really have them primed for the upcoming skirmish.

At the very least, the Darkstar demonstration had the desired effect; the recruits are finally taking their physical training seriously… Randidly reflected as he walked up to the central buildings. He flexed his hand, remembering the sensation of when Helen had struck him with enough force to stall him out. Plus, several individuals had breakthroughs with their image. The weak-willed ones are finally showing signs of developing resolve. Growth is clearly trending upward.

He paused outside the central building, eyeing the guards who seemed to dread any sort of interaction with the fearsome Head Drill Sergeant. Although he didn’t recognize the images of either of these two individuals, the way they stared at the ground and imperceptibly trembled in his presence meant they had heard of his reputation.

Which made Randidly feel quite awkward. Not because he minded the reputation, but because he had been so dismissive of Superintendent Xeruth’s missives that he legitimately had no idea where the skirmishes would take place. He had wanted to come and ask these guards, but seeing their expressions, it seemed somewhat inappropriate for his persona to admit he didn’t know something.

Not that he had no idea where the competitions were being held; Randidly could sense that the near two hundred thousand recruits and two hundred Drill Sergeants were gathered at three massive caverns in the heart of the floating Rally Station. But between them all, Randidly wasn’t sure which he, as the Head Drill Sergeant would be attending.

Luckily, Randidly was saved by a fool.

“Ah, umm… you!” Randidly turned and looked at the elven-eared visage of Lay’mel Tuuellethe, who clearly thought he had forgotten Randidly’s name when he had never even bothered to ask it. But despite this obvious faux pas, the strange Drill Sergeant’s face still split into a wide grin as he recognized him. “And here I thought you had been gobbled up by our Boogeyman of a Head Drill Sergeant! Are you preparing for the skirmishes? Indeed, what a coincidence! Why don’t we head over there together? Hehe, I wouldn’t mind sharing some secret training methods as we chat… the growth of my recruits has been positively explosive!”

Lay’mel walked over and clapped Randidly enthusiastically on the back. Meanwhile, Randidly derived quite a bit of enjoyment from the way the watching guard’s scaled skins turning steadily grey as they regarded the unfortunate next victim of the ‘boogeyman’. Gradually, as Lay’mel’s speed of pats on Randidly’s shoulder grew slower, his expression grew more strained. “Ah… why don’t you lead the way, friend?”

Shit, he has no idea where to go either. And also… this would have been me gambling that he is in the same grouping as I am...

Still, at least with the presence of Lay’mel, Randidly had an easy method to escape this situation. He looked over toward the guards, his gaze as ominous as if he were holding aloft a gravestone without an inscription. Each one of them could see their fates being sealed by his gave gaze. One of the guards practically tripped in his haste to hurry over. “S-sirs, how about I guide you to the location? It’s in one of the interior training facilities…”

With this minor inconvenience taken care of, Lay’mel once more regained his cheer. “Excellent, excellent, excellent. Anyway, let me clue you in on some of the more… savory gossip that I’ve heard. Do you know of Drill Sergeant Pellmon?”

Randidly shook his head and spoke in a low voice that hopefully conveyed an ambiguous and tightly controlled emotion. “I do not.”

As they moved forward behind the sweating guard, Lay’mel’s eyes practically glowed with excitement. He kept fluttering his fingers outward, like his arms ended in massive butterflies. “Oh indeed? Well, he is one of the most prestigious of the Drill Sergeants that was hired for this draft. He worked for almost fifty years as an image purifier. Very talented and powerful. It would make sense that you wouldn’t have encountered him casually yet… well, it seems that Pellmon has extensive exposure to our fearsome Head Drill Sergeant. They are from the same homeworld!”

What? Immediately, Randidly’s eyes sharpened. There was a slight hitch in his step as his mind started to whirr, considering who this could possibly be.

Seeing that he had Randidly’s attention, Lay’mel practically oozed satisfaction as he slowly nodded. He waited to speak until the gesture was finished. “I was shocked too! It turns out that the rumors about Drill Sergeant Ghosthound being from a world that hadn’t yet passed the Calamities yet were completely fabricated; they were only thrown out there to keep us off the right track! Meanwhile, this Ghosthound was truly an old monster from the Fourth Cohort… which explains why he is so close with Commandant Wick…”

As Randidly listened to Lay’mel, he gradually relaxed. It was clear that there wasn’t some other individual from Expira running around, achieving success in the Nexus behind Randidly’s back; the Drill Sergeants all just seemed to be incorrigible gossips. So Randidly nodded along with Lay’mel’s enthusiastic explanations, making small notes of all the different sins and traits that were ascribed to him. Eventually, he started removing the strange ones and focusing on the ones that amused him slightly. Because there was a lot.

Randidly wondered if there was a similar slew of rumors about him on Expira, hopefully with a bit more truth to them.

The rumors ranged the gamut from strange to shocking. The Drill Sergeants said that Randidly Ghosthound has a Skill that allowed him to plant seeds of fear within his targets just by looking at them. He could hear the utterance anytime anyone said his name (not that Lay’mel seemed to notice how much danger he was exposed to as he loudly explained this ability) and peer through time and space to examine their soul when someone attracted his attention.

Randidly Ghosthound bathed once a month, in a pool of blood that he had collected from worthy adversaries. Randidly Ghosthound refused to allow windows in any dwelling in which he resided, lest a ray of pure sunlight strike his body and even partially weaken his image of darkness. Randidly Ghosthound collected rare metals and spent long hours training his body to discern the hardness of a material only by smell. Randidly Ghosthound’s left arm was infected with a rogue image and tried to kill him, which was why he had a metal left arm.

Or otherwise, the current Randidly Ghosthound was a rogue image that had parasitized the original Ghosthound and sealed him within his left arm.

They also said that most of his training methods involved him and his special ‘Dark Regimen’ assaulting the recruits while laughing maniacally. They casually bet about how near death the recruits would be afterward. Although Randidly didn't want to assume the worse, hearing that rumor made him wonder if he should have a talk with Helen about cruelty during training sessions.

But honestly, based on their improvement speed, maybe its best to leave that issue to the side for now...

The tidbit that Lay’mel said had been revealed by Drill Sergeant Pellmon left Randidly staring blankly ahead for several seconds after he heard it. Randidly Ghosthound was a two-horned goat who masqueraded as a six-horned goat after killing his father and grandfather and wearing their scalps to the point that they had become a rotting part of him.

Each salacious rumor that Lay’mel Tuuellethe revealed seemed to be a physical blow that landed on the shoulders of the guard who served as their guide. The lizardman kept his gaze to the ground as they continued forward. Randidly almost felt bad for this individual, who might head back to his home tonight and wonder whether his presence during this thoughtless honesty from the elf-man would draw the ire of the fearsome Ghosthound simply because of proximity. Perhaps he would assume the Ghosthound would hunt him down and kill him for even witnessing this.

But there was little Randidly could do. The benefits of his reputation still outweighed the detriments; Randidly said a silent prayer that this random guard knew a good therapist who could help talk him through his persecution-complex.

Of course, they ended up heading to the largest grouping of individuals beneath the surface; it seemed that the Head Drill Sergeant would be the keynote event at the underground battlefield that had been raging on for longest. They followed a tunnel down into the depths of the Rally Station, the sounds of battle echoing up from below.

Randidly might have been able to figure this out on his own, but he didn’t regret the slight delay; hearing these things from Lay’mel was useful. Probably.

Randidly drew in a breath and focused on the battle going on below him; god, he missed genuinely fighting. The rumbles he could feel through the stones beneath his feet set his heart pounding. And Randidly could sense that they were almost there. Although the recruits fighting didn’t notice that their Head Drill Sergeant was about to arrive, Randidly could feel several strong individuals within the enormous training cavern fixated on him as he approached.

Although he was keeping his image relatively under wraps, there were at least six people that were able to detect him anyway. One was the Superintendent, but the rest were strangers. Randidly barred his teeth. Good. Looks like everyone worth knowing is already here. Let’s make an impression.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Lay’mel said, interrupting Randidly’s thought process. Then he slapped himself on the chest. “Worry not! With me as your companion, you will certainly be able to establish yourself amongst the Drill Sergeants! Ah, but where are my manners! What is your name, again? As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I am Lay’mel Tuuellethe.”

The guard in front of them flinched. But Randidly just smiled. They had reached the end of the tunnel. There was only the doorway and the fighting beyond the threshold. He reached out and put his hands up against the metal door as he looked over his shoulder at Lay’mel. “I know who you are, Lay’mel. I’m Randidly Ghosthound. Thank you for the information.”

For several seconds, Randidly held Lay’mel’s gaze. He peered through his eyes to see the gradual realization that hit the elf-man. Because honestly, Randidly was curious about what he would find within Lay’mel. The man’s timing and obliviousness in the past two encounters was suspicious.

After Randidly’s words traveled through Lay’mel’s ears, reached his brain, and he slowly digested that information in the context of the conversation they had been having on the walk down here, Lay’mel’s reaction didn’t disappoint. Behind the initial blank shock, there was a wave of emotions that didn’t quite fit with his displayed persona: envy, fear, and genuine hatred.

Aha. I thought you had the tang of the Swacc Family about you… Randidly turned away and pressed open the doors. Instantly, he blasted his image outward and filled the air around the other Drill Sergeants with a stifling weight that was subtly backed by Nether; there were too many forces conspiring around him to be passive any longer. It was time that he begin lashing out and establishing himself.

Fighting against the other powerful individuals was the most tempting option, but Randidly was able to restrain that impulse. Instead, he would let his recruits speak for him for now. Hopefully, they would be able to put up a good showing for him, despite the fact that they were outnumbered five to one. At least then Randidly would have the chance to try and figure out exactly how many groups were making trouble for him.

After pushing open the door, Randidly’s gaze slid sideways. There was a tremor from the surrounding images, but they controlled themselves and allowed Randidly to be dominant for the moment. As the largest of the four underground skirmishes, there were above sixty Drill Sergeant’s present. They came as frost giants, metallic praying mantises, strangely colored humanoids, and a tiger with four wings. For now, Randidly ignored them all. His gaze looked onto Superintendent Xeruth and he made a beeline for the official.

As he moved toward the pale man, the Superintendent twitched visibly, as though suppressing the desire to look over. Chuckling, Randidly strolled forward and didn’t bother to call his attention over to him. They were on an upper platform and the Superintendent was ostensibly looking over the side and overseeing the skirmish happening below.

Randidly arrived next to the Superintendent, aware of every eye on him. He kept radiating pressure with his images but didn’t manifest anything more than his base physicalizations. Then he waited for a few minutes. Only when the skirmish had a clear victor did Randidly show a slow smile toward the Superintendent. “I trust you won’t mind if my skirmish is next.”

“That is fine,” The Superintendent responded woodenly. Signals were released and soon the two groups were summoned to the lower area. Two hundred individuals faced off against a thousand. And the comparison between them was almost laughable. Randidly’s group was clearly exhausted, with many of them still breathing heavily as they waited for the skirmish to be commenced. In addition, they wore torn and mismatched armor, which was a stark contrast to the impeccable and uniform thousand red suits of armor that Randidly’s recruits faced.

An unaffiliated Drill Sergeant raised a bugle and sounded the start of the match.

By the end of the fight, Randidly could only release a frustrated groan. “Is that… really it?”

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