Completed Barbarism

[Samantha Black]

From her position between the outer city wall and the barrier, Ral could not see what hell had broken loose beyond. She did not know how many were coming, or what they were, nor could she allow her imagination to run rampant Focus. Preparation. Plan-

Zael took off.

What the fuck?

The next several moments played out like the worst ad-hoc theatrical she'd never seen. Everything was going to shit. The flames leading up to the gates sputtered out and Ralene watched through the opening as the hoard split, and though she could not see why, Zael's sudden and fiery departure into the air sent a sudden jolt of anger up her spine.

Archers on the walls at either side began to shout about a cavalry charge. Arrows began to fly, and projectiles from beyond the wall assailed them back. Ralene's grip on her weapons tightened as she watched him soar through the air, kiting the forces she couldn't see. Dropping explosive bouts of fire one moment, and then gone the next. Her eyes quickly shifted across the top of the wall, waiting for him to reappear.

Willing him to reappear.

He didn't.

The roof of the tower tore itself off like a madman tossing his hat in the air, spinning and spitting shrapnel everywhere along the front. Ralene's gaze hardened with intensity and anticipation as she watched the archers on the walls continue to release volley after volley of arrows.

"Ral, Zael needs help!"

She was on the move in an instant, cutting across the open expanse of the field to the ladder that lead up to the watchtower. Clipping her swords into place on her back, she hoisted herself upwards with haste and clambored onto the wall to join the archers.

"Where is he?!" the Initiate roared at the soldiers over the commotion of the stampeding army below. One archer waved her over and pointed down to the base of the wall where she could just make out Zael frantically attempting to flee back to the gate. Fuck. He'd run right into the rune traps.

"No - ZAEL NO!" Why wasn't he flying like before? There wasn't time to wait and now that she could see the severity of their quarry size, they couldn't afford to lose a single Initiate so soon. "Give me your bow, and your arrows - NOW!" Ralene handily stripped the archer of his primary weapon, tossed the quiver strap over her head, then with a single fluid motion leapt over the wall top and dropped down, down, down.

The Initiate plummeted with a boulder down a sheer cliff and landed with about the same amount of grace one would. Cushioning herself into a stoop and leaving an almighty depression in the ground, Ral straightened herself up to quickly ascertain just how far Zael had gotten - not too far, but he was ahead of her en route to the gate.

"ZAEL!" she bellowed after him, pulling an arrow and loosing it on an approaching goblin, "WAIT!"

Another two arrows loosed took out a charging beast of burden and Ralene was on her feet, tearing off along the base of the wall after Zael, "This wasn't what I had in mind when I said to act as bait!" Ral yelled as she caught up and kept moving alongside him, "Stay by me and let's see how many of these fuckers we can lure in!"

 

[Henk]

Breathe. Stay calm. If you panic, that's it. They're all going to die. They need you right now, and you promised you'd step up.

Henk repeated the words to himself over and over again, even as he watched everything fall apart in front of him. Zael had lost control of himself somehow, careened into a wall, and now sprinted as fast as his injured body could manage back towards the gates like a wounded dog, with Ralene taking shots at the thundering wall of bloodthirsty flesh behind them to little effect. They would be trampled before long, and nothing would remain of them...

Alistair had done his part, the roof of the tower was used to severely weaken the calvary or flanking parties. At least, Henk hoped. The Initiate couldn't afford the second it would take to look out over the tower and see for himself. Not when Alistair too had dropped to his knees in pain. "Alistair!" He called behind him, fighting the urge to turn around and check on him. No, Henk needed to keep his end of the deal. Nobody was dying as long as he could help it.

Nobody except the ones who'd hurt his friends.

"Al, I'd get back if I were you."

Reaching down into the pocket of his trousers, Henk retrieved the black crystalline sliver that Edric had given him. "Not what I can do, but the result of it." was what he'd said. If that meant this crystal would keep Henk alive when he should die... Gritting his teeth, Henk raised the crystal up and drove it into his upper arm, seething as the skin broke and the foreign object penetrated him.

That pain only lasted a moment though, because then he felt something else. A rush of energy like he'd never experienced before. A deep breath of air filled his lungs, as though every beat of his heart pumped new life through his veins. Every muscle in his body tensed, relaxed, and then tensed again. Edric hadn't been kidding, these things were powerful. Henk could only hope they were strong enough to pull him through what he was about to attempt.

Just as he did before, he allowed the sunlight to sink into his skin as his temperature rose. This time though, it came fast, and with no roof to block its path Henk quickly found himself at his limit again, ready to collapse and pass out from the sheer level of heat building inside him. If it weren't for the shard sustaining him, he would have done just that. Instead, Henk gritted his teeth and ignored the searing pain spreading through him.

His flesh glowed brighter and brighter, the heat inside him reaching a point that should have begun melting him from the inside out like a lobster. True to Edric's word though, the crystal kept him going. Didn't do much for the pain though, especially when the threshold was passed, and flames erupted from his skin, turning him into a ball of fire.

Henk screamed, louder than he ever had in his life.

It was actually Edric that had given Henk this idea. He'd watched Ed as his face melted away to the bone, only for him to regenerate in a matter of minutes. This crystal held that power, and though Henk too felt his skin burning from his muscles, he put his faith in Edric.

Henk couldn't see past the angry tongues of flame, couldn't feel anything but the penetrating inferno that tore his body apart. All that he could do was will his body to aim his arms out towards the stampeding ogres and push...

Once again, twin streams of flame burst from the tower and out towards the approaching army. This time though, the flames were very real, and rather than lining the path in an attempt to direct them, it flew towards their foes wildly, eagerly seeking flesh to char.

 

[Zael Castomir]

God damn was it nice to see a friendly face.

Ralene came up beside him. Yeah, sure, Zael could see Edric out there doing his thing, tying up a portion of the oncoming first wave of ogres, but you really couldn't beat having somebody right by your side, now could you?

Zael skipped over the part about bait. Yup, wasn't his idea either. Instead, as they ran, Zael shouted what he thought was highly pertinent information—a capacity that the enemy had that no one expected.

"Somethin's fuckin with my magic!" A quick demonstration. A tiny bit of fire in his palm, his for but a moment, before it zipped away in a thin bright orange string of stolen magic toward the main force of ogres far away. "Is yours still good?"

She'd give her answer—yes, no, or exerted breaths—but there wasn't much time to delve into the matter out here. They'd have plenty of time (maybe even a whole half of a minute) to discuss it once back on the other side of the walls and with the first wave down.

A bright inferno, twin jets of fire, spewed out from the tower, and for the life of him Zael couldn't even guess right now if that was Henk's or Alistair's doing. Whoever did it, Zael was glad for it. The raging streams of fire crashed into wave of oncoming ogres and goblins, sweeping over them. Some were engulfed entirely, others seared and scorched, but for each one dead or severely wounded, hell, that meant one less ogre clogging up the gate that Zael and Ral had to book it through.

As the seconds wound down, as their feet carried them closer, as the howls of war from the remaining ogres of the first wave came deadly near, it became apparent to Zael...that yes, they were not going to make it. Just barely not.

Ogres were now streaming in through the broken gates. Choked was the entrance, barring Zael and Ral's way for the time being. But most were set on charging inside Vel Janix, on engaging the main force of Guards set up inside, but a few of them didn't let Zael and Ral escape their notice. Four of them broke off while the others were piling in (and maybe these four had luck of sorts, leaving the killzones full of runic traps laid by Alistair and Ralene) and, grinning or laughing or bellowing for battlelust, they came stomping toward the two of them.

It was here that Zael realized just how mortal he was without his magic. Now he was just a man, a young man, in mundane armor with a mundane sword, against opponents more than twice his height and six times his weight and had ten times his strength. Most normal methods of fighting were useless; what good was his sword to parry with against a weapon the size of a horse?

"YOU'RE MINE, ANIRIAN!" shouted the ogre that came for Zael directly, wielding his crude two-handed chopping sword high.

Zael snarled—more out of frustration than rage. It was all he could do force his aching body to keep limber, to keep quick, to stay on the inside of the ogre's reach, away from where it could bring the massive weapon to bear. Quick cuts and stabs with his sword were just bonuses.

He and Ral just needed to survive long enough for the main gates to become unchoked by ogres.

Edric Alistair Krixus Ralene Henk

 

[Visha Sofka]

"That one! THAT ONE! I wanna burn that one!" Visha said, pointing her finger at Edric. A good number of the first wave ogres had broken off to fight the human who'd dropped in from the lone tree. And, surprisingly, he was still alive!

"Romguul said wait. Romguul said drop yer magic on the gobbos when they'z in. Stick to his plan," said Demdoz.

Visha huffed. She crossed one arm in irritated fashion under her breast, and the other she still held out, cradling the BEAUTIFUL fire fluttering in her palm (and, oh look, another tiny little bit came to join it!). "Pfft. Romguul says this. Romguul says that. You know, Geladryx didn't have this many RULES, and he did SPEC-TAC-U-LAR-LY!"

Demdoz didn't say anything. Romguul thought this mouthy hume (as well as the few other non-ogre, non-goblin glory seekers amongst their ranks) had uses, but to Demdoz they were all a waste of time. But Romguul was the Overlord, and that was that.

Then came the jets of flame from the towers. Not fake flames. Real flames! Real! BEAUTIFUL! GORGEOUS! FLAMES! Visha gasped, and to any who might have seen her face, there was most certainly a lunatic kind of love in her eyes.

Demdoz nudged her again. More urgently this time. "'Ey! Pyromancer! Take care of them flames! They'z killin our ogres!"

Visha looked up at Demdoz, grinning madly, and shared with him the (second) greatest revelation of all time, "That's my BROTHER up there!"

"What."

"No! Not my actual brother, he's a divvy and still lives in Elbion like a loser! No! That's my REAL brother up there!"

Without further explanation, Visha started forward and away from the main ogre force. "BROTHER!" she shouted, likely to no avail given the distance. "Don't run from me this time! I've got nothing but compliments and chocolates! Promise!"

Demdoz opened his mouth to order her back, but...no. The ogres around him were chuckling, and, yeah, they had it right. Demdoz just let out a grumbling half-laugh, half-scoff. Let the stupid hume go. If she died, all the better. Demdoz could pluck her corpse apart after all the fighting was done and make a meal out of her. Romguul might be mad, but he wouldn't be all that mad, and Demdoz could take a beating.

Visha, without care or consideration for any part of the battle, kept walking slowly toward the tower with her arms outstretched. She was passing by Edric and his brawl, heedless to it. She only had eyes for the tower and the flames that had come from it and her brother who surely was atop it.

Henk Edric

 

[Edric]

Edric felt like a force of nature.

He was beyond the field of battle, the strategy that they had enacted. His entire focus was upon those in front of him, not the greater picture that he had his allies had devised.

The edge of his swords cut through thick skin, slicing into the ogres and cutting into them piecemeal. Their voices cried out in echoing pain. Some shrieking in terror, others calling desperately for assistance. He carved a swath through them.

Every bite of his sword, every dying and echoing heart found their vitality plucked away.

Edric didn't even think about it, didn't even consider it. This was why he had volunteered to be at the back of the army, why he had placed himself so far away from the others. He took what life he need, rending and ripping from the ogres around him. Even Visha Sofka would feel it, the plucking at the cord of her life, the drag of vitality.

A roar escaped him as he swung forward, and then his breath caught.

The moment lasted longer than he intended, the slight drain, the punch to his chest as Henk stabbed the crystal into his skin.

Edric felt it like a punch to the lungs. It caught him so off-guard that one of the Ogre's managed to shift. His great club swinging and smashing into the Initiate's jaw with a great crack of broken bone and shattered features.

He tumbled backwards, cascading onto the floor with a roar of those around him. Quickly they leaped forward, rusted blades and great bludgeons swinging forward as they attempted to crush him before he could ever find his bearings.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair largely ignored Henk's suggestion. He would ignore the flames. He wasn't an idiot. He knew he needed to be up here, for now. Given everything that was going on right now, Alistair was pretty sure he was the only one that could fully focus on the big picture.

Edric was busy being the embodiment of death and all that, which was always impressive to watch when he got a chance to see it in person. Henk was doing his best impersonation of the sun, or whatever. That left Ral and Zael who Alistair could see were both now in the thick of things, but trying to get back into the walls.

Finally, there was the insane girl that he could see in the distance making her way to the Tower. She was yelling something, but Alistair could not see it and he could care less. A human girl walking through a battlefield, along with an army of orcs. He did not need to be a genius to figure out that was bad news.

Alistair attempted to calm himself, doing his best to ignore his own pain. He needed to organize all of this information and put it to its best use. That was how he had been taught to fight when he was overpowered.

The first step, get Ral and Zael inside. He needed their help. Alistair limped over to the edge of the tower and yelled out in the direction of the normal soldiers and Captain Holstag.

"Captain, let some of the orcs in! Just enough to get Ralene and Zael back in. Then close up the hole."

That should be possible right now because Edric was starting to gather more and more attention from the orcs in front and behind him. The redhead was also focused on the tower, so she would not be directly supporting the attack for now. There was only going to be a small opening for them to pull off.

Next, help Edric. He wasn't going to like this, but he would need to put up with being a little crispy.

"Henk! If you can hear me, a little to the left."

It would send the flames closer to Edric's position. The fire would not kill all the orcs, which was a good thing for Ed, but it would give him a little extra room for movement for the dreadlord.

Hopefully, this all would allow Ral and Zael inside. Once inside, those three could gather themselves. Zael might not be the best opponent for the redhead, but Ral might be able to push her back.

Ralene Edric Henk Zael Castomir

 

[Samantha Black]

"Somethin's fuckin with my magic!" A quick demonstration. A tiny bit of fire in his palm, his for but a moment, before it zipped away in a thin bright orange string of stolen magic toward the main force of ogres far away. "Is yours still good?"

"It's fine!" Ral yelled back at him, coming to a skidding stop as they neared the gates to find them overtaken by the deluge of horrible beasts. Zael wasn't the only one to understand the consequences of his lack of magic. Having been pitted against one another for years in spars and lessons, Ralene knew the extend of Zael's skills in combat.

He was strong, but he wasn't that strong.

So it was up to her to ensure they both made it through this. No pressure.

The way through the gates was exceptionally overfull and Ralene watched as the traps set by Alistair Krixus began to go off. A flash of heated red saw an ogre and nearly a dozen goblins evaporated. Next followed an explosion of electricity that surged from the ground upwards like a fount of lightning, scorching a second ogre and lancing off from its flailing body across countless more in a chain electrocution. She wasn't close enough to activate her own, but if she could just get to the wall...

Shit, where did Zael go?

Ralene dodged an incoming boulder hurtling through the air from a rather massive ogre now charging her direction. She turned and grabbed the nearest goblin by the scruff, pivoted on her heel and twisted around in a full circle, using the momentum and the oomph of her additional super-human strength to fling the goblin straight at the oncoming brute. It hit the ogre in the face with such force that the body splattered upon impact and sent the lumbering giant staggering off-course, now blinded by the blood of its own, and into an oncoming warg.

There was a break in the deluge of enemies. Reaching over her shoulders, Ral unsheathed her twin curved blades and thrust herself after the gleam of Zael's armor, carving flesh, bone, and armor alike.

"ZAEL GET TO THE GATES! HUG THE RIGHT SIDE!"

 

[Henk]

"Henk! If you can hear me, a little to the left."

Hearing was about all Henk could do at the moment. That shard of Edric's was keeping him going, but the strain of pumping the light out of his body as flame was incredible. If it weren't for the power of the crystal, he'd have been dead already. His eyes were awash with angry ember tongues, and his skin was far too molten hot to feel anything but the charring of his own body.

He wasn't going to be able to turn himself at all while he was like this.

Too much pressure, he needed to control himself.

As best as he was able, Henk relaxed the muscles in his arms, lessening the flow until the fire petered out, only bright rays of light shooting from his hands as he shifted himself to the light, trying not to look down at the blackened skin of his arms.

Alistair's traps were going off in the distance, and he could hear Ralene's voice shouting incomprehensibly from out on the front lines. Whatever was happening out there was hellish, and they needed him now more than ever. "Alright Al, but I don't know how much longer I have!" His voice was dry, gravelly as though he'd trekked the savannah without a drop of water.

Flexing his arms again, the channel opened once more, and jets of flame roared out toward Edric. Well one of them did. Right as Henk had begun warming up again, one of the damned sharper-eyed goblins of the bunch must have spotted him, and an arrow found itself lodged in Henk's left shoulder, causing his arm to go flying back, and the flame from that arm to go sputtering out with a hiss, narrowly missing Alistair as it did so, but the spouts of fire did catch the wooden floor of the tower ablaze, further limiting their time left within it.

If Henk had any feeling in the arm, he'd be reeling. As it stood, he simply redoubled his efforts into sending as much firepower toward Edric as he could. That man had put himself in harm's way for Henk plenty of times before, and now he needed to do the same.

 

[Zael Castomir]

Ogres, for all their fearsome capacities, had in general an acute weakness: their resolve. Their terrible strength, their terrible toughness, was so great that rarely did they know defeat. When they like a tide crashed against the rock of stiff adversity and saw that it did not budge, that their colossal gifts of physicality failed them, their morale often took a hard blow, more so than other races which more intimately knew grit.

Thus was it for the first wave of Romguul's assault. Edric's intervention, Henk's fires, Alistair's traps, all of these combined to shatter the resolve of the surviving ogres and they, along with the goblin infiltrators alongside them, turned tail one by one and then many by many, and they all went scrambling back to regroup with the main force.

The ogre that Zael was dueling was little different. Striped with annoying cuts from Zael's sword, frustrated that the little hume kept one step ahead of his cleaver, he nonetheless saw his comrades howling in despair and fear and retreating. He didn't need to know any reason why. "Hey! Hey! Wait up! Wait for me!"

And the big brute had the luxury of just being able to turn and run from the fight, his big footsteps thundering away.

Zael took a second to catch his breath, glancing around with hyper-alert eyes for any other nearby threats, but there was none. Far off in the distance, though, he heard the rhythmic beat of the wardrums begin.

Ralene, then. Yup, she had that right. Get to the fuckin gates while the gettin was good.

"Don't have to tell me twice!"

Zael ran. Away and overhead, the jets of flame from the tower shifted. And, as Zael climbed over the dead and dying ogres littering the front gate of Vel Janix, he noticed something:

A lone figure in dark, tattered robes. She was down on one knee, struggling to keep moving forward toward the tower, and in one unnatural palm she held up a globe of fire. He couldn't prove it, no, but he felt strongly in his guts that those flames in the figure's hand were his.

But she was too far away to go after, especially knowing the next wave of ogres was bound to come charging at any second—he'd be caught with his ass out if he didn't kill her in time.

So he ran in through the gate, careful of where the hell he was stepping, and damn did it feel good to be back inside (even if most of his body was howling in pain). The Guardsmen at their defensive posts were looking stoic and steeled, the Vel Janix militiamen looking apprehensive but committed.

"Don't worry boys," Zael shouted, now at a brisk walk. "There's plenty of em left."

Edric Alistair Krixus Henk Ralene

 

[Visha Sofka]

Those ogres she was going past were RUINING the moment. Get him! they were saying. Crush him! they were saying. Yeah, yeah, whatever, kill that divvy on the ground, but do it QU-I-ET-LY! Visha so would have shushed them on any other occasion.

She was just too busy staring up at the tower.

And struggling as her lifeforce, unbeknownst to her, had been ravaged by Edric's magic.

So Visha, weakened, had fallen down to one knee. She held up the globe of Zael's fire with her igneous arm and clawed at the ground with her human one, crawling along as best she could.

"I'm just...haaahh, haaahh...so overwhelmed...haah! haah!...to see you, brother!"

Toward the tower! Toward the tower! Stupid legs not working right! Stupid heart not beating right! She needed MORE gifts from Imamu! Her own body was just too weak to contain her now!

"I know just the thing! To celebrate! Ooooo...big surprise for you! And I'll even give you...three whole guesses!"

Laughing maniacally and eminently satisfied with herself, Visha continued to crawl on her knees and hand toward Vel Janix, toward that overlooking tower.

* * * * *​

Meanwhile, Romguul assessed the battle. He gave the order for the drummers to start up their beat—

DUUM, DUUM, DUU-DUU-DUUM
DUUM, DUUM, DUU-DUU-DUUM

—to encourage his warriors. His cavalry, though losses were sustained, were in position on the east and west side of the Anirian walls. He had confidence that the next phase of the attack would go very well for his ogres.

Henk Edric

 

[Edric]

Another club thudded into his ribs. Another one struck the side of his face.

Skin peeled away from muscle and bone, dragged away by the forceful bash of another Ogre's weapon. Desperately his magic clawed and grabbed, grasping at the flickering flames of life which roared around him. He could feel that blurry line of ebbing power.

The flow of magic was like a torrent into him, and yet it seemed to fall through like a sieve. It ran through Edric himself and out the other side. Tugged and pulled aside as Henk began to pour the flames upon the Ogre's all around him. Slowly their incessant, horrid beatings ceased and were replaced by screams of agony and pain.

Flame surged all around the young Initiate.

Ogre's and goblins screamed.

Their bodies began to melt, their heft surging and the sound of bubbling fat ringing through the air just below the din of anguished screams. Edric could barely hear any of it, his skull half caved in, his face a bruised mash of flesh.

His mouth poured with blood, fingers had long lost the sword that he had been clutching. His entire body ached, and then suddenly he felt something hard grasp him.

One of the Ogre's pulled his corpse up and off the ground. A heavy hand grasping the half-dead Edric and pulling him up in front of himself. A guttural cackle left it's maw, fingers curled around the Initiate's ragged form to keep him in place like a shield against the onslaught of fire.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Yes, this was the little bit of breathing room that they needed. The ogres were beginning to pull back from their first wave. They would come again, but that was a problem for the future. This would give time for Ralene and Zael to get themselves inside.

He cursed under his breath as the tower roof was lit on fire, they would not be able to remain here much longer.

The girl was still advancing, crawling now, but still focused on the position of the tower. Alistair had a feeling that she was coming for Henk, not him. After all, Henk was putting on a better show than he was.

That was Ralene, Zael, and Henk, so that just left...Edric. Alistair focused and used the slightest bit of magic, so as not to harm his already irritated eyes, granting him enhanced sight. He turned his attention to the direction that Edric was in, and what he saw wasn't great. Ed's powers were not keeping up with the onslaught and now some ogre had grabbed him.

"Henk, that's enough! Drop it! We are leaving."

He knew that if Henk dropped it, then that might be it for the torrent of flames, but they would only do more harm than good while the ogres retreated. They would need to have faith that Edric could handle himself without the flames.

Not to mention, Alistair did not want Henk to be a vegetable after this stunt. He needed to be able to move, at the least, because he could not just drag him wherever he went.

Before opening up the trap door that led down to the ground, Alistair leaned over the side and called out to Ralene and Zael that he could see entering the gates.

"Ral, incoming! Heavy hitter!"

He shot a very simple ball of light in the direction Visha. The message was simple, Alistair had to leave that problem to her, at least until he got Henk down. He did not feel comfortable asking Zael to handle it given what had happened to him earlier.

"Zael, you've got the east cavalry! I'll try and slow down the west."

Of course, him being able to do anything was contingent on him getting Henk out of the tower before he turned into a piece of coal.

Ralene Edric Henk Zael Castomir

 

[Samantha Black]

The first wave had slowed, realized the disparity of its approach, then turned for retreat back to the far hills. Ralene hovered just before the gates amidst the fresh piles of goblin and ogre bodies.

Behind her, Zael had safely packed away through the gates and stood before the number of Holstag's regiment standing alongside the remaining Vel Janix militia. The archers on the outer walls at either side of the gates were still numbering aplenty, though there had been several losses.

The walls still held, for the most part, aside from those that had been directly under the destruction of the tower's apex. The eastern walls looked relatively untouched for now, at the very least.

Ralene took in the scene before her as she watched the enemy regroup on the horizon, her gaze tracking west to east, seeking out the lone figure that would have been Edric in the distance. She'd expected to find him standing among the piles of dead left in the wake of his powers - instead she found him being used against the petering flames of Henk's magic by an ogre still lingering on the field.

He wasn't moving, and though it was a distance it looked as though the body the ogre held was now a fiendishly charred remnant of the young warrior it had once been. Having known Ed for as long as she had, and seen the horrific things he'd lived through, part of her brushed it off. He'd be fine.

"Ral, incoming! Heavy hitter!"

Her helmet swiveled between the points of her pauldrons, horns crowning the skull of the armored plate shifting with the air of a predator now investing itself in a new target. Ral's eyes locked on to the small form dragging itself across the ground, towards the wreckage of the tower just outside the western walls. She watched as Visha Sofka fell under a hail of arrows from the archers positioned above. Though she couldn't see within the walls, Holstag had sent a group of his Knights to assist at the tower base.

She looked back to Ed and made up her mind.

Dropping her chin to the metal of her chestplate, Ralene loosed an utterance of incantations beneath her breath as she began to trudge across the mire of battle flotsam. A sheen of red shimmered across her figure, then a shadow of black dropped over her. Upon clearing the main pile of bodies, her gait picked up pace, metal boots carving through the mixture of earth and blood until she was moving at speed: freight training for the ogre who held Edric's limp form captive.

It all happened in a blink of an eye - Ralene crossed a vast distance of space too fast to track. Despite the silence of her approach, the rage bleeding from her was spiritually tangible. The ogre blinked, squeezing Ed's body, cracking bone and crushing organ, and then the ogre fell still and his grip loosened.

A guttural squelch filled the air as the lower portion of the beast's body peeled open like a zipper, dumping a waterfall of viscera and blood between it's feet before the rest of its body crumpled into a pile of fleshy ogre gruel. Ralene turned from where she stood just behind it, dripping in gore from the horns on her helmet to the points of her boots. She heaved two heavy breaths, then moved to pull Edric's body from the clutch of its lifeless hand.

With a determined snarl, Ralene heaved him over her shoulder with the same effort she might a sack of potatoes and stood at the sound of war drums to catch the start of the next wave unfurling down the hillside.

 

[Henk]

He didn't need to be asked twice.

The longer he exerted himself like this, the less he could see, hear and feel If Alistair told him it was time to stop, Henk trusted his judgment. Gritting his teeth, Henk staggered back as the flames from his arm stopped, leaving him with a black, charred appendage to match the other that had been nailed with an arrow.

The crystal had started healing that one, but its effectiveness was clearly waning. Henk didn't know this was tied to Edric's dire situation some distance away, but it certainly couldn't be a good sign. With one burnt hand, he grips the crystal embedded in his arm and rips it out, tossing it aside as he tries to follow Alistair to the trapdoor. His legs may as well be gelatin with how little feeling he had in them, and they shook as they struggled to support his weight. Even breathing felt like lava being poured into his lungs.

Slipping through the trapdoor and stumbling down to the bottom, barely cognizant of the world around him through the film of haze that clouded his site, Henk slumped to the floor, struggling to catch his breath, to regain his senses. The sounds of carnage just outside the tower served as an interesting ambience to his thoughts.

For a moment there, he'd been powerful. Very powerful.

The crystal was part of it, definitely but... there was something else there that he'd felt. Just out of his reach.

Krixus' shouts from above drew his attention, and Henk let out a quiet swear as he dug his numb fingers into the ground underneath him, pushing back against the wall of the tower in an attempt to stand back on his feet. Couldn't stop now. They needed him out there.

"Alistair! We have to find a new spot! Hurry!"

Henk shouted up at his companion before pushing the metal doors to the tower open and stumbling out with a hand around the shaft of the arrow in his shoulder, tugging it out with a muttered profanity.

 

[Zael Castomir]

Hardly had the words gotten out of Zael's mouth when the first explosions rocked the ramparts. Zael turned to look, bringing an arm up to shield himself as debris from the wooden battlements rained down. A few of the archers along the ramparts were struck, incinerated; a few others were blown off of the wall and their bodies went flying toward the Guardsmen's fortifications; the rest of the archers, as the series of fireball explosions ran along the wall, did the smart thing and abandoned their posts, giving up cries of "Get down!" and "Jump!" as they took their fortunes with a fall to the ground rather than pyromancy to the face.

The explosions stopped abruptly soon after (Zael unaware that Alistair had temporarily blinded Visha).

A shout. Alistair. From the tower.

"Fuck." He didn't know. How could he? Well, Zael was planning on heading toward the tower, so he'd tell him up close and personal that there wasn't shit he could do about the eastern wing of cavalry.

Zael started to jog toward the tower, figuring out in his mind what he needed to do. But there wasn't much to it, was there? He needed to his magic, and so long as that pyromancer kept stealing it, Zael would only have his sword to offer to the battle. And what they needed was a fifth Dreadlord, not another Guardsmen—no offense to the bloody infantry.

Henk came stumbling out of the tower right as Zael got there. And—

"Hell, you look worse for wear," Zael said, taking in the measure of Henk's horrific burns. He gave him a thump on the shoulder. "But you helped save our asses out there." Then he looked through the open doorway to the tower and said, "I need to go talk with Alistair. We're all still in this fight, buddy."

Up the cramped tower stairs he went, up to the top of the damaged tower to meet up with Alistair. Down below Zael caught a glimpse of the larger second wave of ogres just beginning their charge, of Ralene carrying Edric, and, closer still, that pyromancer, who was busy shouting something as she clutched at her eyes.

Zael clapped a broad palm onto Alistair's back to grab his attention. "No can do on the east cavalry. Not yet." He pointed down at Visha. "I need to kill her, and I need to do it fast. If I can't, you got a rune or something to help boost me back behind these walls?"

Henk Alistair Krixus Edric Ralene

 

[Visha Sofka]

Visha recoiled as an arrow found home right between her breasts. "HEY!" she shouted up towards the archers as more arrows streaked past, "I just stood back up, would you please give me a minute??"

Another arrow buried itself in her gut, and the head of another slashed her cheek as it sailed by. Visha stumbled backward, spun around as she nearly lost balance, then oriented herself toward the tower and the walls again.

"THAT! DOES IT!"

Visha held up her free hand, two fingers raised high, and an orb of flame manifested. From that orb spewed fireball after fireball, the devastating volley crashing into the walls to the one side of the tower. She had been TRYING to be nice, but those BOW-USERS (what are they, elves?) picked the wrong fight!

Maniacally she laughed as she watched them abandon the walls. Blood poured from her chest, from her stomach, dampening her tattered robes and dripping the dirt at her feet. Stupid! Annoying! Arrows! Whoever said arrows were fair! Weren't they against the rules! Great Maho never used arrows!

But no problem! She could just rip them out and cauterize her wounds and keep go—

Something BRIGHT devoured Visha's vision. She yelped and closed her eyes as Alistair's ball of light blinded her, and at her face she slapped in vain with her flesh and blood hand. Afterimages were seared into the backs of her eyelids.

Wildly she flailed about, making her wounds worse and—mostly by accident—blundering still in the direction of the tower. "OKAY! Who did that!? Who did that!? When I find you, I'm going to strap you to a chair and tickle you with my own TOENAIL clippings! Just you WAIT!" Then, almost plaintively, she called out, "BROTHER! WHERE DID YOU GO!? I came here just for you! BROTHERRRRRRR!"

* * * * *​

The ogres of the amassed army watched Ralene kill one of their fellows, and they laughed and jeered. Not at her. At him. Because all of them felt that they, yes they, could have easily crushed the girl hume.

This was the psychology Romguul had to manage. Why lesser Overlords failed was because they committed all their ogres to an attack, a few things went wrong, and a mass rout happened. But ogres didn't lose heart seeing their comrades, who were part of a wave that they were not, get killed; they just thought them weaker, and they couldn't wait for their turn, so as to prove themselves stronger. Small routs from waves breaking could be reliably salvaged; a mass rout was a total loss. Overwhelming force was best applied when victory appeared assured. Thus, waves to weaken the foe before the true hammerblow. This was the strategy that had gotten Romguul far.

To this end, Romguul gave the signal for the second wave to charge, and his ogres all roared in fierce approval.

And while the second wave was charging the front, Romguul was organizing large detachments to swing wide to the east and to the west. When the cavalry gave their signal that the side walls were broken down, he could have ogres flooding into Vel Janix from three sides. He just needed that signal.

 

[Edric]

Edric’s chest suddenly heaved against Ralene’s shoulder, a breath sweeping into his lungs as the magic which sustained him once again dragged him back from the Abyss.

Dozens upon dozens of broken bones, torn tendons, ripped muscles, shattered ribs began to mend themselves. Coursing agony wracked his entire body as slowly Edric wrenched the vitality of the dying into himself. He took not from those still standing, but the injured, the wounded, those who lay on the brink.

From them he snatched what little they had left.

Ogre’s dreaming of skulls they could have crushed, goblins thinking of the thrones they could have sat upon, Guardsmen who spent the last few seconds of their lives begging for their mothers to save them.

All of them were snuffed out in an instant as Edric was torn into life once more. His eyes snapped open, and Ralene would almost immediately feel him wriggle and shift upon her shoulder. His hands clutching, grabbing as a mind which had scoured the great beyond was once again forced into life.

He kicked out, and with a sudden jerk accidentally sent both him and Ralene tumbling to the ground.

The two crashing against the blood stained earth and tumbling with a heavy thud. Edric felt a slight scrunch as he landed atop the corpse of a Goblin, head pulling up and eyes quickly looking onto the charging Ogre’s…whose path they directly stood in.

A curse echoed out, and then suddenly he noticed Ralene besides him. ”What the fuck are you doing out here?!”

He called to her in anger.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair remained at the top of the tower for as long as he could. The reason being that he now saw what was happening with Ral and Edric in the distance...Sadly, that was going to have to be a them problem. He was currently out of any tools that would actually prove useful to them. Besides, Ral and Ed could take care of themselves.

He faintly heard Henk call for him followed a few moments later by Zael. Wait, Zael? Why was he here? He was supposed to be in the opposite direction.

"What? Why?...", Alistair had none of the contexts for any of Zael's statements, but as he heard the sounds of battle below, he really did not care.

"Ok, fine then go kill her." That seemed to be the most obvious course of action. He looked irritated at Zael as he started looking through several of his pockets and pouches.

"I don't just have a rune for everything, Zael."

Even as he said that he pulled out a simple coin and pressed it into Zael's hand.

"You will need to be close enough to the wall, but throw that on the ground. Channel magic to your feet and then step on the coin. It should launch you up high enough to get over the wall...You will have to figure out how to land."

With that said, Alistair hurried down the tower and outside to see Henk. It was only then that he heard Visha's mad ravings.

"If you are going to do it then hurry it up, Zael. Get rid of that psycho."

He would have to handle the cavalry.

Edric Ralene Henk Zael Castomir

 

[Samantha Black]

"Getting you on your FUCKING FEET!" Ralene snarled back at him as she picked herself up from the dirt. He wouldn't be able to see her face well enough, hidden within the confines of her helmet as it was, but he'd know.

He'd know scowl.

There were so many things she would have liked to follow-up with. Another fuck you would have felt good but it also would have been a waste of time, breath, and her current enhancement spell.

"They're flanking the city," she yelled over the reverberating drums and thunderous sounds of the next encroaching wave of beasts, "the tower is forfeit, Zael's magic is fucked, Henk is spent. We don't have an advantage anymore, they're going to overrun the wall and surround us with this next wave-" she spat the taste of ogre blood from her mouth and leaned to wipe her blade on the body of a downed enemy near her feet, "we have two choices. Retreat further back and regroup with the others," she then lifted her sword to point toward the undulating hill on the horizon, "or you and I go for their throat."

"If we can find and take down their leader, that will give the rest a better chance."

There wasn't much time to devise a better strategy, but Ralene felt confident - and perhaps too much so - that between herself and Ed they could drive a wedge through the numbers and send them into disarray.

 

[Tarkas Verik]

A fortress is built with blood and toil. Only by blood and toil may it be taken.

Tarkas was a hard-fought man. He knew the stakes of what was to come if they failed to hold. The Guardsmen accompanying the mighty Dreadlords were routed for the most part. The Anirian Guard sent a panicked runner, and it was only thanks to the saddle that Tarkas was managing to even scrounge up 40 horseman- 41, including himself. Quite literally, he had dragged them out of their beds.

The battle was where the Vel Anir so called scholars and tacticians dictated that it wouldn't be. Tarkas may have been a man of many things- and one of them being an aversion to Dreadlords, but when the Dreadlords began to make inclinations that the battle was to be decided or the Ogres, Orcs, Goblins and other ne'er-do-wells were ravaging the land, well.

Tarkas had to listen to someone, and it might as well have been the ones that could shoot flames out of their fingertips and draw upon magic. Books and walls only made one so smart and so strong. One had to be tested.

Tarkas assembled his troops, clad in his usual blue armor, in a line over the battlefield. Their numbers were too few to turn the tide directly, but they could still do a considerable amount of damage, when applied properly.

"I have but one command to you, Guardsman!"

He positioned himself, directing the Sergeants with the pointing of his mighty sword to conduct the forming of the attack. He surveyed the battlefield- if only he was able to break the attack of the green horde, then maybe- maybe, the Dreadlords would have time to formulate another plan, or regroup. He had no idea of the tactical situation inside the walls, but he knew it was unwell.

He did not need to win the day, the Guardsman did not need to win the day. They needed only to give break the lance of the enemy to give the Dreadlords a proper fighting chance again.

"Kill!"

And with swords, lances- and whatever else the Guardsman had scrounged up in Tarkas' rabid recruitment, they charged. Forty horseman and their mighty warhorses came cascading towards the green horde-

The Ogres and the rest were approaching their own enemy, determined just as well. The battle was not decided entirely, but it seemed to go in their favor thus far. Tarkas reached to his helmet, discarding it, showing his bared teeth and scarred visage to the foul creatures. He gripped his sword tightly, kicking his horse to ride it faster. He screamed as they took the enemy by the flank, approaching at the base of the hill and slightly on it that the Dreadlords were currently positioned at.

The horseman and the green beasts collided, the horses meeting their foe with such violence and ferocity that the horses alone drove them downward. Lances and swords culled green skin, shedding their brackish blood on the ground. They were so focused on the city that they failed to account for them, and were too disorganized after what appeared to be a spell of great fire to effect a proper cavalry defense in a hasty manner.

Tarkas looked down at the Dreadlords as he passed, in just a few seconds. He looked at them, and then the crest of the hill. He had not won the battle for them, or even broken the enemy's will. He did not have time, resources, men, or ability to do so. But what he had done, is given the young soldiers something they did not have before-

A chance.

He pointed his sword to the hill, before continuing the charge. He hit their flanks hard, and the horseman began to receive stiff resistance, but were managing to cut down a great many number of them- and routing them away from the hill, at the least. Eventually, their charge would cease and they would have to meet the enemy in combat, but for now, the charge had dampened the enemy's attack, and given them a new element which they were not prepared for.

Tarkas turned his head towards one of his soldiers, who's horse first fell victim to a lance, then the rider was pulled off and met with the same fate.

But to die for Vel Anir was glorious in of itself.

And if he were to meet his fate today, on this wretched field- so be it.

 

[Zael Castomir]

I don't just have a rune for everything, Zael.

Maybe not a rune, but an answer. Shit, that's why Alistair was so goddamn dependable. You put a problem in front of him, and by Kress he'd find a way to solve it. And fast. Zael was convinced Alistair couldn't sleep a wink while an unsolved problem was rattling around inside his head.

And there it was. His answer. Alistair produced the coin and pressed it to Zael's hand and Zael grinned like he had just gotten a Winter Solstice present. He stashed it away.

"I knew I could count on you," Zael said.

Parting words and encouragement, and Alistair was gone, down the tower to do whatever he was gonna do to the west cavalry. Fuck. Zael knew he had to make this fast: Alistair and maybe Henk (banged up as he was) might be hard-pressed to handle both wings of the cavalry. He couldn't let them down. He needed to get into that fight.

And, almost to punctuate this dire need, the walls at the eastern and western end of Vel Janix shook horribly, the concussive THUMP of the Horned Crushers slamming into the wood reverberating throughout the town. The walls still stood, but there was splintering and broken bits and some of the logs were bent. But they still stood. For now.

Zael turned to face his foe.

Visha Sofka.

Over the edge of the tower and the wall he dropped, his cloak fluttering up in his descent. With a practiced roll he hit the ground to disperse the shock, and up onto his feet he came to face her.

He held his sword at Middle guard and said, "You have somethin of mine."

Alistair Krixus Henk Edric Ralene

 

[Visha Sofka]

"YOU!!" Visha shouted in response. Finally her vision had cleared and she could see that the man before her WAS NOT who she wanted it to be. "What did you do with MY BROTHER??"

Zael, effortlessly playing along, said, "He's inside. He said he doesn't want to talk to you though. Somethin about you bein a fiery cunt."

"He likes to play games!" Visha said, as if excusing her imagined brother's behavior. "And so do I! Guess what I have in this hand! Go on! Guess, guess, guess!"

Zael was already taking steps forward, sizing his foe up. "I'll tell you—"

"TIME'S UP—CATCH!"

And Visha both conjured a devastating fireball and hurled it at Zael. The fireball struck him dead on, and the force of the blast shook loose dust from the walls of Vel Janix and shattered windows and likely rattled the teeth of the braced Guardsmen inside the town. A vicious cloud ascended upward from the explosion, curling in on itself as it rose higher and higher. The orange of the fires inside the cloud soon quelled and all that was left was thick smoke.

From it emerged Zael, dark wisps swirling about his arms and legs as he came charging. Not one hair on his head was singed, not one burn marred his skin. The fireball had done nothing to him.

Visha yelped, and cried out with high-pitched alarm, "HEYTHAT'SNOTFAIR! AHHH!"

She had to lift her inhuman arm to block the first of Zael's strikes. Metal ground against rock. Were it not for the martial training of Hanuman, Visha would have perished within the span of the next few strikes.

But they fought, Visha purely on the defensive. And panicking.

 

[Edric]

Anger flickered over his face.

Rage that Ralene would risk her life. Seething that she wouldn't trust him to survive, that she wouldn't know he would come out of this, but at the same time he knew he would have done the same. He forewent the curses, the arguing, and just nodded his head. "The Throat!"

He confirmed with a below.

There was no point in arguing. No point in trying to dissuade Ralene or throw her back over the wall. She was here now, they were here now. What in the fuck else were they going to do? Even killing the Ogre leader might not get everything done, and their enemies number alone was enough to crush them three times over.

Might as well go out swinging, and wake up in a field of corpses.

Without thinking Edric's magic once again began to pull at those around them. He tore and ripped free the flickers of their life, feeding himself and soothing the ache of dozens of injuries all around his body. His hand grasped Ralene's shoulder, and suddenly she would feel a spike of Vitality thrust through her core.

"Direct through the middle!" Edric shouted as he leaned down and scooped up the shattered blade of one of the Guardsmen who had been caught out. His fingers wrapping around the bloody hilt as darted forward at the nearest enemy.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Great, that left Alistair and an extra crispy Henk to deal with the charging horde of orcs. Oh yeah, don't forget the cavalry. He had to deal with that too.

He motioned for Henk to follow him, "Don't push too much, though." Alistair rushed off to the front line. He ran into orcs sooner than he expected, which meant they had managed to push the line back a little.

The chaos of battle was beneficial to Alistair, as he had no plan of holding any sort of line. He would have been crushed if he tried. Instead, he consistently made his way toward the cavalry why slipper in and stabbing ogres when he saw a chance. However, his goal never changed. his brain was racing as it tried to find a way to slow down the wargs.

He could see them now, a wedge-shaped unit of riders beginning to make their way toward the walls. He had nothing, no more clever ideas and his magic was also running low. He would only get maybe one or two more spells and they would not be big.

Only when logic was left with no recourse should one turn to the desperate.

They were there. Alistair looked around and picked up a spear from a fallen soldier, and then he began to charge. Some of the soldiers looked at him confused, but he ignored them. He would have to put all of his faith in the protection runes on his clothing. Al also activated the lone protection rune on his skin, it burned and flared on the left shoulder of his back, but he also felt his skin harden and toughen.

He ran straight toward the point of the wedge with that spear, and at the last second, he dove into the legs of that warg. The spear pointed up and pierced the beast's flesh while immediately causing the beast to stumble. Alistair would have been crushed if not for the rune, but more importantly, the collision threw the charge of the wedge into chaos. The cavalry would still run into the soldiers, but it would not come with the shattering force of a well-formed wedge.

Henk Ralene Edric Zael Castomir

 

[Samantha Black]

An angry Edric was enough to make anyone second guess themselves, but not Ralene. Ed's anger only sharpened her edge and steeled her determination; like a blade forged through the unforgiving heat of starfyre. She stared right back at him, willing him to relent and make a choice. When he finally did, she was ready - bracing as she received his gift of vitality - and pressing boot to mud, blood, and corpse alongside him.

A sheen of red and a crackle of black energy coursed across her figure as she met the fresh wave of enemies head-on. Ralene moved like a maelstorm: an indomitable force that cleaved through bodies, throwing off heated flashes of red arcane light with each connection before pushing forward to the next. The paltry armor and weapons of these forces did not stop her advance, nor the bulk of larger brutes. Pieces of goblins littered the field behind her as she closed in on a gray beast of an ogre, stopped short a few yards outside of his range, and with a deep breath bellowed the commanding words that ignited her blade in furious crimson.

Ral set back on her heel, then curled the blade in an upwards vertical arc with a forward step, sending the slash of energy sailing at her target. It roared through the air, screaming with ethereal fury, before slashing across flesh of the beast from shoulder point to hip. The ogre screeched in rage and agony, bulled forward toward her with its own weapon held high, then stumbled as the left side of its body collapsed dissevered from its right. Like a hank of beef cut clean from the carcass, the right side crumpled sideways and fell with a mighty splat, flattening several allies in the process. Innards and viscera rolled freely forward with the momentum, splattering the Initiate as she turned to immediately process her next victim: a battle warg leaping over the left half of the body.


~~~

Inside the city walls a commotion followed as the fire of the tower overtook it completely, showering the nearby wall and barrier with embers and falling debris. With a yawning groan the tower slowly began to topple, then finally keeled over, smashing into the wall below. The archers stationed there scrambled for cover, running along the wall's walkway in either direction, some throwing themselves from height.

From the right, the Lieutenant called the advancing flanks and ordered a new volley of arrows upon the wave. Behind the secondary fortification wall, Holstag issued orders to split off teams of Anirian Knights to either side. One such team shortly joined Henk as he moved to fend off the incoming enemies now bursting through the broken walls where the tower once stood.

Near the smoldering flames of the tower's ruin, the remaining Archers re-routed from the crumbling wall, focusing their fire on what would become a bottleneck as the hoard imminent arrival began.