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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/DrDoritosMD on 2025-12-09 21:17:48+00:00.
Blurb/Synopsis
Captain Henry Donnager expected a quiet career babysitting a dusty relic in Area 51. But when a test unlocks a portal to a world of knights and magic, he's thrust into command of Alpha Team, an elite unit tasked with exploring this new realm.
They join the local Adventurers Guild, seeking to unravel the secrets of this fantastical realm and the ancient gateway's creators. As their quests reveal the potent forces of magic, they inadvertently entangle in the volatile politics between local rivalling factions.
With American technology and ancient secrets in the balance, Henry's team navigates alliances and hostilities, enlisting local legends and air support in their quest. In a land where dragons loom, they discover that modern warfare's might—Hellfire missiles included—holds its own brand of magic.
Chapter 69: Holdout
The Chinook banked toward Karlsheim, their third and final stop on this rescue operation.
Henry watched the approach through the window. The village sat higher than the previous two, perched on a hillside that gave it clear sightlines over the surrounding terrain. Any attackers would have to work their way uphill while defenders rained shit down on them.
Whatever their situation was, it was bad enough that they’d decided to favor defense over convenience. They’d invested in the position so much that they even had some sort of screw setup between the village and the river – frozen solid now, but during warmer months it would pump water straight uphill from the stream below.
The village itself huddled behind earthwork walls that looked like they were raised all in one go. If Henry had to guess, it was a mage’s handiwork. Which meant that these people took threats seriously enough to pay for magical construction – or simply had a village mage.
Past the village, forest stretched in every direction. These were the same frozen woods they’d been staring at for hours now, dense enough to hide anything patient enough to wait.
The tree line sat maybe three hundred meters out from the base of the hill – more distance than Tannow, which meant they’d have a lot more breathing room if monsters decided to bum-rush them. Assuming the monsters could even track them down.
Ideally, they wouldn’t. Hell, logic suggested that they couldn’t. Chasing metal birds moving at hundreds of miles per hour was just a losing proposition, especially if they wanted to chase them on foot.
But knowing his luck, they’d somehow manage to come knocking on his doorstep. And in that case, he’d estimate maybe twenty, thirty minutes before those crystallons closed the distance from Tannow. Plenty of time to load civilians and get wheels-up, but that depended on full cooperation and zero fuckery. As if they’d be able to get off so easily.
The Chinook touched down on flat ground just below the village walls, ramp already dropping. The Royal Guards disembarked first, followed by the Greyhar and Tannow volunteers. They ran the same playbook they had during the last two stops – familiar faces calming locals who’d probably never seen anything fly that wasn't a bird or a dragon.
Henry hit the ramp right after, rifle up. His team got into position while Doc sent the drone up toward the tree line.
“Alpha Actual, Thunder One-Two. Got a gut feeling those bastards are trailing us. Request clearance to intercept, buy you guys some time. How copy?”
Henry keyed his radio. “Solid copy, Thunder One-Two. You’re cleared to intercept. Thunder Two-Two will maintain overwatch.”
“Thunder One-Two copies. Moving to intercept. Out.”
Henry tracked the Apache as it banked southwest, watching it shrink against the tree line until it disappeared into the clouds.
He turned his attention back to the ongoing evacuation. The Royal Guards and volunteers had gotten the villagers in check relatively quickly, as they’d already started heading back home to grab their belongings.
With that, Perry signaled for the King Stallions to land. The big birds descended in sequence, ramps dropping and loadmasters popping out.
The Greyhar and Tannow volunteers did their thing, guiding Karlsheim locals toward the helos with calm, neighborly encouragement.
Families shuffled up the ramps in a steady flow. Parents keeping kids close, elderly folks taking their time on the incline, younger adults hauling packs that probably had way more shit than they needed. One woman had a crying toddler on her hip while trying to manage a basket at the same time. A Greyhar volunteer took it without being asked, and she nodded her thanks.
Overall, things went pretty smoothly. It helped a lot that the crowd was smaller, too – maybe half the size of Tannow’s.
Honestly, it was pretty odd, now that Henry thought about it. Karlsheim, like the other villages, had a recorded population of around fifty people, give or take a few. And yet, the crowd barely amassed to thirty or so.
Of course, it was possible that some of them simply weren’t in town when the blizzard hit. Or the bleaker alternative: that they’d lost a few residents during the storm.
Whatever the reason might have been, he couldn’t afford to waste his attention on trying to figure that out. He kept his focus split between Doc’s drone feed and the tree line with his own eyes. Still nothing but white and frozen trees.
Everything held steady for maybe five minutes before Murphy’s Law sent its first invoice.
One of the Royal Guards came sprinting back from the village and made straight for Boral, grimacing like he bore bad news. Boral clocked it immediately and straightened, dropping a conversation with the Warmaster. He leaned in as the Guard whispered something.
Whatever he said, it was enough. Both of them turned and headed back toward the village, jogging as fast as they could without making it seem like a desperate, panicked sprint.
Henry tracked them as they disappeared through the village gate. He turned to Ron on his left. “What do you think that’s about?”
Ron just chuckled. “I can take a guess, but I ain’t gonna jinx shit.”
Henry almost agreed, but with how the dwarves were moving, they didn’t need to worry about tempting fate – not with something already set in motion. “Think it’s already jinxed, man.”
He turned his attention back to the woods. Whatever Boral was dealing with, it was costing them time they didn’t have. He checked his watch, then Doc’s drone feed. Still clear on contacts, but that window wouldn’t stay open forever.
At least the evac was still running on schedule. That was about the only thing going right.
After a few minutes, Boral emerged through the gate with the Guard in tow. And of course, both men decided to head straight for Henry.
Because what was a mission without getting drafted for at least one clusterfuck?
Granted, no one had actually verbalized that yet, but Henry could see it written all over Boral’s face as he approached.
“Captain.” Boral’s jaw worked like he was chewing on words he didn’t want to say. “There’s holdfast folk as won’t be moved. Three houses, mayhap a dozen souls all told. They’ve walled their yards and laid by stores for the winter, swearin’ they’ll weather what comes. Stubborn, but set on it.”
Gee, wasn’t that just perfect? Sure, why would anyone want to evacuate when they could play fortress instead?
The other villages had fuck all for defenses – a wooden palisade at most. Meanwhile, this village had actual stone walls and sat on a hilltop. These people had probably fought off their fair share of raids, so it did kinda make sense why they’d want to dig in, but still… The coming storm wasn’t just another halfassed goblin raid.
“What’d you tell them?” Henry asked.
Boral’s gaze sank. “That this war’s no goblin raid, nor stray beast come wanderin’ from the deeps. What waits beyond the ridge outnumbers them twice and more, and hungers worse besides. I said their walls’d not stand, nor their stores last through a siege such as this. Yet they heard me not; for they’ve seen small evils driven off afore, and reckon the greater will fall the same. I could scarce find heart to press it further.”
The underlying frustration was obvious enough to Henry: if perfectly sound logic couldn’t dislodge the stubborn holdouts, then nothing could. Still, leaving them wasn’t an option – not politically, not morally, and definitely not when it came to explaining it later.
But what other options did they have? Dragging them out by force would torch any goodwill they’d built and probably turn the rest of the evac into a shitshow.
Boral shifted his weight. “I’d thought… mayhap they’d lend ear to you, then. You command the metal birds, do you not? Where they see me but as another councilor bidin’ ’em this way or that, they might take your word for somethin’ weightier.”
That sounded a lot more like desperation than actual logic. What was Henry supposed to do, convince fortified villagers to abandon their defensible position – their home – and trust some random dude who dropped by in an alien aircraft?
He’d almost begrudgingly accepted when he remembered that they had Perry for exactly this kind of thing. “Why not ask the Ambassador?”
Boral gave a bitter laugh. “If they’d not heed me, they’ll scarce heed him. Perry’s a good man, aye, but he’s naught to offer this lot that I hadn’t meself. An’ I suppose the Warmaster could order the Guard to fetch ‘em by force, but that’d...
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