"ARROWS!" a powerful voice rang out, as the fighting stopped momentarily. We all looked around, even our enemies. Taking advantage of the distraction, I promptly stabbed my opponent. Then, I heard that deafening sound. Tens of thousands of bowstrings all letting loose at the same time from the upper level of the four leveled city. I looked up and saw the sky grow evermore dark. "Run!" The same voice rang out again. That's just what I did. I ran. My legs pounded against the cobblestone of the once great Laytekian capital. The beasts had poured in from the eastern shores months ago, coming from the distant continents. They were quickly able to take the city. Which was why I was here. I, Rumil, came here with the rest of the 3rd Laytekian Army to take it back. The Lord of Laytek had even lead the assault. At this point, I still thought we might win. At least, until I couldn't see three feet ahead of me. The arrows hadn't even hit the ground yet and theywere already causing panic. I just kept running.
I tripped on what appeared to be some stairs going downwards, into a basement I assumed. I tumbled downthe steps, bruising myself on the granite ledges. A tiny bit of light came in from the open basement hatch. I saw a tall figure with a very long sword enter. He threw his sword down into the darkness, the blade clattering on the tile mere feet from my arm. He quickly grabbed the heavy wooden door and pulled it shut.
After the door shut, I noticed a stream of light piercing the darkness. It was coming from a hole in the basement wall, from outside apparently. I peered through the hole, not expecting to see anything. I couldn't hear much, except a faint scream of panic in the distance. Then I saw a single arrow slam into the cobblestone, cracking the stones paving the road. Then another arrow hit farther away, by a large building that appeared to have been a church, a large stone cross standing upon the dome-topped steeple. Then another arrow hit, cracking more cobblestone. And another. And another. Dozens of arrows were coming down now, causing dust clouds to fill the air along with the shattered fragments of the street stones. I heard in the distance a scream of pain from some unlucky soul who couldn’t find cover.
More and more arrows were hitting. Now hundreds were hitting every second. The dust was extremely thick from the now shambled road. Arrow shafts were sticking up everywhere, the arrows now dense enough to walk atop. More and more arrows just kept slamming down into the ground. It just kept coming. The arrow rain was still getting denser and denser. I could hardly see the church that was just across the street. Arrows began slamming into the northern wall of the church, the wall facing the upper level. The bricks began to give. And then, somehow, the rain got even thicker. The defenders must have begun firing more arrows. The masses of arrows slamming into the old stone bricks ofthe church were just too much. The bricks explodedinto a shower of dust that ran from the bottom of the wall up. The church began toppling onto it's northern side. More arrows kept hitting, decimating what little support the building had. The steeple fell towards the ground, but the arrows turned it to acloud of dust and debris before it could touch down.
Then I was flung backwards by an explosion outside. The other man in the basement helped me up. He took a peek through the window. I peered through too, and there was a crater among the layer of arrow shafts, fire spewing from it. "They've set up ballistae." commented my companion. The arrows themselves stopped, but the giant shots began coming faster and more often. "Come on! Let's go!" Shouted the man as dust began pouring through cracks in the ceiling. Fire spewed in from the window, and this area of refuge looked more and more like a deathtrap. I picked up my large three-pointed shield with the Laytekian Emblem on it and put my helmet atop my head. I drew my sword and looked through the visor. I spoke to him through the chainmail mesh in the front of my helmet.
"Let's do it." I replied. We both ran up the stairs and pushed with all our might on the heavy oak door. It budged, and dust poured in. "Harder!' I shouted as my back felt pain and strain I never though a man could endure. An explosive shot slammed into the side of the building. A large gaping hole replaced the window, fire spilling in and filling the basement. Now my adrenaline was moving, and I used all my muscles in my body to open that door. It opened slowly, growing easier to push as dust fell from the top. As soon as there was space, my companion dove out of the basement. He kneeled down and offered his hand to help me out. I then realize who I had spent the last few minutes with. His long blond hair rippled from side to side as explosions forced the air from one area to another and back again. His strong features and powerful blue eyes were recognized by any and all those allied with Light. It was the Lord of Laytek himself, the mighty King Lance. After getting over my initial shock I grabbed his hand with my shield arm and was pulled out of the growing inferno. I stood up upon the new street paving ofarrow shafts that were now beginning to burn. Lance beckoned for me to follow him.
We dashed across the street, crouching over, trying to avoid being seen. “What are we hiding from? Aren’t they all on the upper…” I began to speak to myself. An arrow impacted my helmet, knocking it off and leaving a dent. I didn’t have time to pick it up, my un-groomed, greasy black hair now dangling over my shoulder, my bloody face exposed to the enemy. I ran as hard as I could, arrows whizzing by. Lance was still ahead of me, also lacking head protection. The arrows seemed to bounce off of him, he seemed invincible. I slammed my feet harder into the ground, hoping to get to the cover. That was all that mattered. Except, there were other things that needed consideration. As my foot slammed into the tops of the arrow shafts, they snapped, sending me tumbling forward. My face slid across the feathers protruding from the arrows. I scrambled, half crawling, half trying to get up as another arrow ricocheted off its peers. I grabbed at the arrows, pulling myself forward. “Only ten more feet”, I told myself. “Nine more…” I kept counting down the feet to the cover. You do weird things in combat, your mind doesn’t work like you’d think.
Lance had already made it, and now noticed that I was a crawling duck amid the desperate bow fire of the defenders. He dashed towards me, his hand outstretched, trying to grab mine. He was heroic, that was for sure. An arrow slammed into his side, sending him toppling. I cursed under my breath. “I’m screwed.” I mumbled, picking up my shield and standing, ignoring the arrows. One hit me in the wrist, bouncing off my right vambrace. Another impaled my shield, the head about two inches above my index finger. I walked towards Lance, making progress much faster than before. Another ballista shot exploded nearby, my ears ringing in pain from the shockwave. I stumbled, but picked myself up, an arrow soaring between my legs, rattling to a stop next to Lance. I suddenly jerked into movement, running to Lance. I bent over and grabbed his hand without slowing, leaping over him. I slid across the arrows, pulling him along with me.
We were now in the shadow of the chapel, and I was desperate for water. I pulled my canteen from under my breastplate. Unscrewing the lid, I realized how light it felt. I peered inside, hardly a drop left. I held the canteen up to my lips just as I heard a shout from my left. “Wait” Lance was staring at me, his mouth agape, his arm outstretched. His messy hair and dusty face made for a sight anyone would pity. I rolled my eyes and handed him the canteen.
“You better be thankful,” I remarked, disappointed.
Lance was now sitting up, and looked at me bewildered. “No, you better be thankful.” He replied, sounding a bit annoyed.
I looked at him, bent over, and tapped my knuckles on his forehead. “Is the dust keeping oxygen from your brain or are you just egocentric?”
Bad idea.
His fist cracked into the side of my jaw, sending me stumbling. “If you would give me a second without insulting me, you might learn a secret or two of this world.” He pulled a single, blue crystal from a pouch under his mail. I was sitting up, rubbing my face and spitting out blood. I looked at the crystal.
“Lemme guess, it makes water.”
Lance let out a chuckle. “Good guess, but no. You see, this thing makes BEER.”
I looked at him, bewildered. “You’re kidding.”
He laughed again. “Nope. It makes some of the finest ale you’ll ever have the pleasure to drink. However, it needs a bit of water to work.” He dropped the crystal into the canteen and covered the spout with his palm. He shook it around, and you could distinctly hear sloshing around in the canteen. He took a good long swig of the canteen before handing it back to me.
I took it reluctantly, though it did feel heavier than before. I held it up to my lips and angled it slightly. Lo and behold, the great taste of beer graced my tongue. I lowered the canteen for but a moment. “Daaaaaang.” I slammed the spout back into my mouth and threw my head back, chugging the beer, not even letting it spend time in my mouth. Something else went down, and my gag reflex went off instantly. I bent over and fell to the ground, the canteen dropping, the canteen draining. Lance quickly grabbed the canteen and stared inside.
He looked at me, irate. “You swallowed the crystal.” He didn’t seem to care that I was choking. He stood up and repeated himself, louder. “You swallowed the beer crystal!” He lifted his leg and slammed it into my chest. The crystal went down into my gut, and I soon stopped coughing.
“Thanks man.” I commented, tired and gasping for air. He responded with a swift kick in my side
Lance sat down, very disappointed. “We could have had all the beer we could drink! But now you’ve got the crystal in your gut” I looked at him with remorse in my eyes. Not so much that he was mad at me, but because that was some pretty dang good beer. He looked at me, still with anger in his eyes. Then he started laughing. I nervously started laughing along with him, wondering what we were laughing about. “Hehe, what’s so funny…?” I asked cautiously.
He got up close to my face and stared me in the eye. “Cause you’ll be pissing blood for a month.” He fell backwards into uncontrollable laughter, while I just whimpered a bit.
“What!?” I whined, praying it wasn’t true. He got up and looked me in the eye again. “Say it ain’t so!” I begged.
He shrugged. “You’re right. It’ll be three.” He started laughing again. I put my head in my hands. This practically as bad as a death sentence. A clap echoed in my ears and I looked up, Lance was rubbing his face and a woman dressed in white linens was standing there, hands on her hips.
“What are you two doing! Have you forgotten about the malks? They’re sending out soldiers from the upper levels to wipe use out!”
“Sorry, honey.” Lance replied, remorsefully. He looked like a dog that had just been punished. There were four other men behind the woman; all looked bashed and beaten, but still somehow formidable. They were all dressed in similar garbs to Rumil. Chestplate with mail underneath, wrist guards, and leather pants. One had a bow, another had a spear and a rectangular shield. Yet another had a very weird, curved sword that looked much like a paper fan, being a handle with a piece of steel sprouting which then formed into a semicircle with razor edges. This one also had a concealing helmet on. The weapon was known as the axe-blade. The final soldier was equipped similarly to Rumil. He had a three-pointed shield and a hand-and-a-half sword. “Men, introduce yourseves.” Lance ordered while standing up. The group spread out into a line. The one with the shield and sword spoke up first. “My name is Joshua, from a village in Northern Laytek .”
The next spoke up, the one with the bow. “I am Nikholas, of Western Bresch .”
The next spoke up, holding his weapons expertly. “My name is Donovan, Guard of the Mile-High Citadel, presuming from a village in the late territory of Kendra.”
The final soldier stepped forward and took of their helmet. Long black hair falling down the shoulders. Fair features stood out, even in the fog of war. A deep feminine voice came from the figures’ lips. “I am Lyn Swords, niece of Lord Lance Swords, sent from the mountains of the Northern Grock Tribe.”
The woman stepped forward. “I am Aura, Lady of Laytek, wife of Lord Lance. Formerly of the City of the White Flame.”
I approached the white garbed woman. “You’re knowledgeable in the arts of healing, correct?” The woman nodded. “Well I accidentally swallowed a beer crystal…”
Aura laughed and replied, “Well short of slicing you open or making you vomit, you’re just going to have to let it pass through your system. Neither of those will be very practical here.” Another ballista bolt whistled above their heads and slammed into one of the few buildings left. It detonated on contact, showering the group with gravel.
“Well, what side affects will there be?” I asked, worried about how his recent snack would affect me .
Aura didn’t have time to reply, a howl echoed through the battlefield, followed by a dozen more. “Get down!” Lance shouted. I dove to the ground, hearing the thuds of those around me. I gripped my blade as the howls got closer. I stared into the blade, feeling somewhat nauseous. The howls stopped all of a sudden, and I caught a glance of something in the reflection on my sword. It soared overhead, followed by four more. I looked up and behind me, to see a quintet of huge, snarling dracolupes.
These beasts were four feet tall at the shoulder, looking exactly like large, black wolves except for the reptilian fins sprouting from their neck. Their heads were huge, with gaping mouths and six-inch fangs. Their tongues were white hot, with flames emanating from their mouth as they exhaled. Their tails were long and slender, their paws wide. Their hind legs thick and powerful, their front thin and bony. Their only protection was their thick, almost metallic fur. Atop each of their backs sat a figure.
These were the malibest, referred to by most as the malks. Their skins a sickly greenish-purple, their faces mangled and disgusting. Their hair was black and thin, their red eyes were filled with a hate for all things pure. They wore gauntlets with pointed fingers, used to claw and tear their opponents. These abominations carried with them huge pikes with frayed points in one hand, and in the other a black iron scimitar with a single tooth protruding from the blade. They wore scraps of iron tied together with leather as armor, caring more for assault than defense. On each of their foreheads was a bright, thick, red dash, the same paint running down their cheeks. Atop their beasts of war they struck fear in all but the stoutest hearts.
I got up, and looked to my sides. More riders had come around the side and surrounded us. Lance pointed at me. “Rumil! With me! We’ll take on the center! Aura! Lyn! Protect the left flank! Donovan! Joshua! Take the right flank! Nikholas! Shoot anywhere you have a clear shot! Go!”
Lance and I dashed toward the five riders. I raised my shield and sword, Lance held his blade at his side. The dracolupes started for us. They were at full speed, pikes level. I looked to my side and saw Lance swing his sword around in an arc, slamming into the side of the foremost rider. I looked back ahead and saw flames coming towards me. I spun around and shot my feet out, sending me sliding on my back. I raised my sword just in time to pierce the underside of the wolf. I got up while watching it collapse into a heap. An arrow whizzed past my head. A dracolupe rolled into me, pressing me into the ground before sliding off. I rolled to the side just short of being sliced open by a malk blade. I thrust my sword arm into the dismounted malk. I promptly shoved my opponent off my blade with my shield, the sword stained by brown blood.
I raised my shield, only to have it punctured by a charging malk’s lance. I spun around , slamming my body into the shaft. The malk let go, and I swung the pike around, knocking the rider of his mount. I snapped the spear with my blade and pulled the tip from my shield. The malk attempted to get up, only to be pierced by his own spear-head that I had just launched.
I turned around to see multiple corpses of wolf and malk alike. Lance was wiping his sword on the pelt of a fallen dracolupe, while Joshua was rummaging through the equipment of a deceased rider. Aura was tending to Nikholas, who had apparently been pierced by a pike.
Everyone was hurried to where Nikholas and Aura were, except me. I went down on one knee and set me shield on the ground. Using my sword, I cleared the splinters from the holes in my shield. I took some deep breaths; I was even more nauseous than before. Looking around I surveyed our surroundings. The other six of our group were all huddled together behind a pile of rubble. The landscape was full of debris, the paving of arrows thinning as the eye reached farther out. It appeared that the volley was directed right at us. They knew exactly where we were. I continued looking farther, noticing some buildings were still together. A mile away I noticed something moving. It appeared to be a line of shields. I didn’t need to look twice, I ran towards the group, shouting and pointing. “Lance! Look! It’s an entire company of malks!” Lance followed the direction of my finger, his eyes growing wide.
“Aura, stay here with Nick. Donovan, Joshua, Lyn, come with me and Rumil.” They all stood up and started walking in my direction. I finally reached them.
“Lance! We can’t beat them! We’re outnumbered twenty to one! We need help!” I gasped, catching me breath. Lance shook his head.
“I’ve faced worse odds than that, and malks aren’t exactly bright.” I stared at him, scared for my life. “You’re not a very confident fellow, are you? Fine. Joshua! You have a signal horn, correct? Blow it now.” Joshua nodded and followed orders. He raised a ram’s horn trumpet to his lips, the horn white and polished yet cracking a bit near the bell. He blew it loud and clear, the low pitch emanating throughout the lower level.
I looked around, and from various holes and broken buildings figures stirred. They headed for us, a good dozen of them. Their armor was dusty and mud-caked, their sword blood stained and damaged. Many shield were cracked, it seemed each of them had fought the war alone. “Follow me.” He said as they had gathered to him. The malks were much closer now, we could hear them chanting in their own, vile tongue. “Let’s hit ‘em head on!” Lance shouted as we were fifty yards from the enemy. We all started running with all our strength, many relying on their second wind. We shouted in unison, weapons up.
“For Laytek!” We all shouted in unison, mere feet from the shield wall. We slammed into them, weapons swinging, shields bashing. I slammed my shield into the face of a shield man, swinging my sword into the side of another. I spun around, adding speed to my blade as it pierced the mail of a malk. I shoved and spun my way between the enemy, maiming malks before they were able to react, and disappearing before someone could avenge them. I was seven lines deep when I saw the end. I ducked and shot myself forward, flipping one malk and knocking over an archer. I swung my sword under me; bringing it up through the archer and into a swordsmen. I sidestepped a spear, bashing its owner with my shield.
I pierced the back end of the column and looked around. Five malks had turned around to hit me, while the others continued to advance or attack my comrades. I quickly glanced around the force, able to see the glint of Lance’s longsword swinging downwards in the center of the battalion, and the top of a single Laytekian’s helmet as he was brought down by an axe.
This is a lost cause. I told myself as I dove towards the closest malks chest, headbutting him and knocking him to the ground. I swung my shield around and knocking out another malk. I noticed my arm movements getting a little sloppier, my vision growing fuzzier. I hardly noticed when I had eliminated the five malks.
“You! Man! Meet my blade!” I turned to where the voice was coming from, and an unusually tall malk stepped out of the crowd. He was well armored and had a scar over his blind right eye. His left arm held a round shield, his right held an black iron, duel toothed scimitar. He ran at me, and I instinctively raised my shield. His sword slammed into it with such force that it numbed my entire left arm. I staggered backwards as I tried to regain my composure.
My vision was starting to get darken, but I could just make out the feral face of my opponent. I dove forward, my arms up in front of my head. He blocked the blade but failed to protect himself from my shield as it slammed into his side. I dropped my sword arm and brought it up. He pulled the shield back, knocking my sword harmlessly to the ground. I pulled a knife from its hilt at my side, refusing to give up my momentum. I lunged at him, bringing the point down on his sword hand. He dropped his blade and screamed in pain as sickly brown blood dripped from the knife wound. I swung my shield at it, knocking it out from his hand and severing two of his fingers. He shouted in pain and slammed his shield into my helmet, sending my flying backwards.
I was losing consciousness as he came at me; I was lying on my left side and unable to move my shield from under me. I kicked my legs out wildly, my steel boots hitting him in the jaw. He was thrown to the side and onto the ground. He tried to get up, but unable to do so just fell to the ground. Everything around me grew dark and my entire body felt numb as I slipped out of consciousness.
We dashed across the street, crouching over, trying to avoid being seen. “What are we hiding from? Aren’t they all on the upper…” I began to speak to myself. An arrow impacted my helmet, knocking it off and leaving a dent. I didn’t have time to pick it up, my un-groomed, greasy black hair now dangling over my shoulder, my bloody face exposed to the enemy. I ran as hard as I could, arrows whizzing by. Lance was still ahead of me, also lacking head protection. The arrows seemed to bounce off of him, he seemed invincible. I slammed my feet harder into the ground, hoping to get to the cover. That was all that mattered. Except, there were other things that needed consideration. As my foot slammed into the tops of the arrow shafts, they snapped, sending me tumbling forward. My face slid across the feathers protruding from the arrows. I scrambled, half crawling, half trying to get up as another arrow ricocheted off its peers. I grabbed at the arrows, pulling myself forward. “Only ten more feet”, I told myself. “Nine more…” I kept counting down the feet to the cover. You do weird things in combat, your mind doesn’t work like you’d think.
Lance had already made it, and now noticed that I was a crawling duck amid the desperate bow fire of the defenders. He dashed towards me, his hand outstretched, trying to grab mine. He was heroic, that was for sure. An arrow slammed into his side, sending him toppling. I cursed under my breath. “I’m screwed.” I mumbled, picking up my shield and standing, ignoring the arrows. One hit me in the wrist, bouncing off my right vambrace. Another impaled my shield, the head about two inches above my index finger. I walked towards Lance, making progress much faster than before. Another ballista shot exploded nearby, my ears ringing in pain from the shockwave. I stumbled, but picked myself up, an arrow soaring between my legs, rattling to a stop next to Lance. I suddenly jerked into movement, running to Lance. I bent over and grabbed his hand without slowing, leaping over him. I slid across the arrows, pulling him along with me.
We were now in the shadow of the chapel, and I was desperate for water. I pulled my canteen from under my breastplate. Unscrewing the lid, I realized how light it felt. I peered inside, hardly a drop left. I held the canteen up to my lips just as I heard a shout from my left. “Wait” Lance was staring at me, his mouth agape, his arm outstretched. His messy hair and dusty face made for a sight anyone would pity. I rolled my eyes and handed him the canteen.
“You better be thankful,” I remarked, disappointed.
Lance was now sitting up, and looked at me bewildered. “No, you better be thankful.” He replied, sounding a bit annoyed.
I looked at him, bent over, and tapped my knuckles on his forehead. “Is the dust keeping oxygen from your brain or are you just egocentric?”
Bad idea.
His fist cracked into the side of my jaw, sending me stumbling. “If you would give me a second without insulting me, you might learn a secret or two of this world.” He pulled a single, blue crystal from a pouch under his mail. I was sitting up, rubbing my face and spitting out blood. I looked at the crystal.
“Lemme guess, it makes water.”
Lance let out a chuckle. “Good guess, but no. You see, this thing makes BEER.”
I looked at him, bewildered. “You’re kidding.”
He laughed again. “Nope. It makes some of the finest ale you’ll ever have the pleasure to drink. However, it needs a bit of water to work.” He dropped the crystal into the canteen and covered the spout with his palm. He shook it around, and you could distinctly hear sloshing around in the canteen. He took a good long swig of the canteen before handing it back to me.
I took it reluctantly, though it did feel heavier than before. I held it up to my lips and angled it slightly. Lo and behold, the great taste of beer graced my tongue. I lowered the canteen for but a moment. “Daaaaaang.” I slammed the spout back into my mouth and threw my head back, chugging the beer, not even letting it spend time in my mouth. Something else went down, and my gag reflex went off instantly. I bent over and fell to the ground, the canteen dropping, the canteen draining. Lance quickly grabbed the canteen and stared inside.
He looked at me, irate. “You swallowed the crystal.” He didn’t seem to care that I was choking. He stood up and repeated himself, louder. “You swallowed the beer crystal!” He lifted his leg and slammed it into my chest. The crystal went down into my gut, and I soon stopped coughing.
“Thanks man.” I commented, tired and gasping for air. He responded with a swift kick in my side
Lance sat down, very disappointed. “We could have had all the beer we could drink! But now you’ve got the crystal in your gut” I looked at him with remorse in my eyes. Not so much that he was mad at me, but because that was some pretty dang good beer. He looked at me, still with anger in his eyes. Then he started laughing. I nervously started laughing along with him, wondering what we were laughing about. “Hehe, what’s so funny…?” I asked cautiously.
He got up close to my face and stared me in the eye. “Cause you’ll be pissing blood for a month.” He fell backwards into uncontrollable laughter, while I just whimpered a bit.
“What!?” I whined, praying it wasn’t true. He got up and looked me in the eye again. “Say it ain’t so!” I begged.
He shrugged. “You’re right. It’ll be three.” He started laughing again. I put my head in my hands. This practically as bad as a death sentence. A clap echoed in my ears and I looked up, Lance was rubbing his face and a woman dressed in white linens was standing there, hands on her hips.
“What are you two doing! Have you forgotten about the malks? They’re sending out soldiers from the upper levels to wipe use out!”
“Sorry, honey.” Lance replied, remorsefully. He looked like a dog that had just been punished. There were four other men behind the woman; all looked bashed and beaten, but still somehow formidable. They were all dressed in similar garbs to Rumil. Chestplate with mail underneath, wrist guards, and leather pants. One had a bow, another had a spear and a rectangular shield. Yet another had a very weird, curved sword that looked much like a paper fan, being a handle with a piece of steel sprouting which then formed into a semicircle with razor edges. This one also had a concealing helmet on. The weapon was known as the axe-blade. The final soldier was equipped similarly to Rumil. He had a three-pointed shield and a hand-and-a-half sword. “Men, introduce yourseves.” Lance ordered while standing up. The group spread out into a line. The one with the shield and sword spoke up first. “My name is Joshua, from a village in Northern Laytek .”
The next spoke up, the one with the bow. “I am Nikholas, of Western Bresch .”
The next spoke up, holding his weapons expertly. “My name is Donovan, Guard of the Mile-High Citadel, presuming from a village in the late territory of Kendra.”
The final soldier stepped forward and took of their helmet. Long black hair falling down the shoulders. Fair features stood out, even in the fog of war. A deep feminine voice came from the figures’ lips. “I am Lyn Swords, niece of Lord Lance Swords, sent from the mountains of the Northern Grock Tribe.”
The woman stepped forward. “I am Aura, Lady of Laytek, wife of Lord Lance. Formerly of the City of the White Flame.”
I approached the white garbed woman. “You’re knowledgeable in the arts of healing, correct?” The woman nodded. “Well I accidentally swallowed a beer crystal…”
Aura laughed and replied, “Well short of slicing you open or making you vomit, you’re just going to have to let it pass through your system. Neither of those will be very practical here.” Another ballista bolt whistled above their heads and slammed into one of the few buildings left. It detonated on contact, showering the group with gravel.
“Well, what side affects will there be?” I asked, worried about how his recent snack would affect me .
Aura didn’t have time to reply, a howl echoed through the battlefield, followed by a dozen more. “Get down!” Lance shouted. I dove to the ground, hearing the thuds of those around me. I gripped my blade as the howls got closer. I stared into the blade, feeling somewhat nauseous. The howls stopped all of a sudden, and I caught a glance of something in the reflection on my sword. It soared overhead, followed by four more. I looked up and behind me, to see a quintet of huge, snarling dracolupes.
These beasts were four feet tall at the shoulder, looking exactly like large, black wolves except for the reptilian fins sprouting from their neck. Their heads were huge, with gaping mouths and six-inch fangs. Their tongues were white hot, with flames emanating from their mouth as they exhaled. Their tails were long and slender, their paws wide. Their hind legs thick and powerful, their front thin and bony. Their only protection was their thick, almost metallic fur. Atop each of their backs sat a figure.
These were the malibest, referred to by most as the malks. Their skins a sickly greenish-purple, their faces mangled and disgusting. Their hair was black and thin, their red eyes were filled with a hate for all things pure. They wore gauntlets with pointed fingers, used to claw and tear their opponents. These abominations carried with them huge pikes with frayed points in one hand, and in the other a black iron scimitar with a single tooth protruding from the blade. They wore scraps of iron tied together with leather as armor, caring more for assault than defense. On each of their foreheads was a bright, thick, red dash, the same paint running down their cheeks. Atop their beasts of war they struck fear in all but the stoutest hearts.
I got up, and looked to my sides. More riders had come around the side and surrounded us. Lance pointed at me. “Rumil! With me! We’ll take on the center! Aura! Lyn! Protect the left flank! Donovan! Joshua! Take the right flank! Nikholas! Shoot anywhere you have a clear shot! Go!”
Lance and I dashed toward the five riders. I raised my shield and sword, Lance held his blade at his side. The dracolupes started for us. They were at full speed, pikes level. I looked to my side and saw Lance swing his sword around in an arc, slamming into the side of the foremost rider. I looked back ahead and saw flames coming towards me. I spun around and shot my feet out, sending me sliding on my back. I raised my sword just in time to pierce the underside of the wolf. I got up while watching it collapse into a heap. An arrow whizzed past my head. A dracolupe rolled into me, pressing me into the ground before sliding off. I rolled to the side just short of being sliced open by a malk blade. I thrust my sword arm into the dismounted malk. I promptly shoved my opponent off my blade with my shield, the sword stained by brown blood.
I raised my shield, only to have it punctured by a charging malk’s lance. I spun around , slamming my body into the shaft. The malk let go, and I swung the pike around, knocking the rider of his mount. I snapped the spear with my blade and pulled the tip from my shield. The malk attempted to get up, only to be pierced by his own spear-head that I had just launched.
I turned around to see multiple corpses of wolf and malk alike. Lance was wiping his sword on the pelt of a fallen dracolupe, while Joshua was rummaging through the equipment of a deceased rider. Aura was tending to Nikholas, who had apparently been pierced by a pike.
Everyone was hurried to where Nikholas and Aura were, except me. I went down on one knee and set me shield on the ground. Using my sword, I cleared the splinters from the holes in my shield. I took some deep breaths; I was even more nauseous than before. Looking around I surveyed our surroundings. The other six of our group were all huddled together behind a pile of rubble. The landscape was full of debris, the paving of arrows thinning as the eye reached farther out. It appeared that the volley was directed right at us. They knew exactly where we were. I continued looking farther, noticing some buildings were still together. A mile away I noticed something moving. It appeared to be a line of shields. I didn’t need to look twice, I ran towards the group, shouting and pointing. “Lance! Look! It’s an entire company of malks!” Lance followed the direction of my finger, his eyes growing wide.
“Aura, stay here with Nick. Donovan, Joshua, Lyn, come with me and Rumil.” They all stood up and started walking in my direction. I finally reached them.
“Lance! We can’t beat them! We’re outnumbered twenty to one! We need help!” I gasped, catching me breath. Lance shook his head.
“I’ve faced worse odds than that, and malks aren’t exactly bright.” I stared at him, scared for my life. “You’re not a very confident fellow, are you? Fine. Joshua! You have a signal horn, correct? Blow it now.” Joshua nodded and followed orders. He raised a ram’s horn trumpet to his lips, the horn white and polished yet cracking a bit near the bell. He blew it loud and clear, the low pitch emanating throughout the lower level.
I looked around, and from various holes and broken buildings figures stirred. They headed for us, a good dozen of them. Their armor was dusty and mud-caked, their sword blood stained and damaged. Many shield were cracked, it seemed each of them had fought the war alone. “Follow me.” He said as they had gathered to him. The malks were much closer now, we could hear them chanting in their own, vile tongue. “Let’s hit ‘em head on!” Lance shouted as we were fifty yards from the enemy. We all started running with all our strength, many relying on their second wind. We shouted in unison, weapons up.
“For Laytek!” We all shouted in unison, mere feet from the shield wall. We slammed into them, weapons swinging, shields bashing. I slammed my shield into the face of a shield man, swinging my sword into the side of another. I spun around, adding speed to my blade as it pierced the mail of a malk. I shoved and spun my way between the enemy, maiming malks before they were able to react, and disappearing before someone could avenge them. I was seven lines deep when I saw the end. I ducked and shot myself forward, flipping one malk and knocking over an archer. I swung my sword under me; bringing it up through the archer and into a swordsmen. I sidestepped a spear, bashing its owner with my shield.
I pierced the back end of the column and looked around. Five malks had turned around to hit me, while the others continued to advance or attack my comrades. I quickly glanced around the force, able to see the glint of Lance’s longsword swinging downwards in the center of the battalion, and the top of a single Laytekian’s helmet as he was brought down by an axe.
This is a lost cause. I told myself as I dove towards the closest malks chest, headbutting him and knocking him to the ground. I swung my shield around and knocking out another malk. I noticed my arm movements getting a little sloppier, my vision growing fuzzier. I hardly noticed when I had eliminated the five malks.
“You! Man! Meet my blade!” I turned to where the voice was coming from, and an unusually tall malk stepped out of the crowd. He was well armored and had a scar over his blind right eye. His left arm held a round shield, his right held an black iron, duel toothed scimitar. He ran at me, and I instinctively raised my shield. His sword slammed into it with such force that it numbed my entire left arm. I staggered backwards as I tried to regain my composure.
My vision was starting to get darken, but I could just make out the feral face of my opponent. I dove forward, my arms up in front of my head. He blocked the blade but failed to protect himself from my shield as it slammed into his side. I dropped my sword arm and brought it up. He pulled the shield back, knocking my sword harmlessly to the ground. I pulled a knife from its hilt at my side, refusing to give up my momentum. I lunged at him, bringing the point down on his sword hand. He dropped his blade and screamed in pain as sickly brown blood dripped from the knife wound. I swung my shield at it, knocking it out from his hand and severing two of his fingers. He shouted in pain and slammed his shield into my helmet, sending my flying backwards.
I was losing consciousness as he came at me; I was lying on my left side and unable to move my shield from under me. I kicked my legs out wildly, my steel boots hitting him in the jaw. He was thrown to the side and onto the ground. He tried to get up, but unable to do so just fell to the ground. Everything around me grew dark and my entire body felt numb as I slipped out of consciousness.
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