Home, Siege Home

by Eric Ugland

  “At least it’s not a long siege,” Wian said, walking up to the group. “I hate long sieges.”

  “It will be,” Nikolai said.

  “What if I just kill them all?” I asked.

  “You cannot,” Nikolai said. “Even without whatever evil powers they have been granted, the ursus were always formidable warriors. The Empire only beat them because tribalism kept the ursus from banding together. Now, look at them. They certainly act like they are working together. And that alone would worry me. But whatever powers they possess on top that will likely change the game.”

  “I guess, if they overrun us, still a short siege,” I said.

  Wian laughed.

  A roar came out across the field. It wasn’t loud at first, but it grew. Bear after bear joined in, and the noise became overwhelming. Then one of the creatures started banging a weapon against a shield. Which again spread to all the other ursus. Those without shields banged against their heavy plate armor. It was an impressive cacophony.

  Looking across my soldiers on the wall, I expected to see some nerves amongst them. But instead, I just saw steely reserve and a few men cracking jokes. I forgot that those standing with me weren’t raw recruits or farmers called on to defend their homes. These were veteran soldiers. Professional soldiers who had likely seen combat against a host of things I couldn’t imagine even in my worst nightmares.

  The corrupted ursus began a march across the open field. Slow. Steady. Notably, they split their forces, some remaining back in the trees.

  You have been offered a quest by the holding of Coggeshall:

  Defend Your Home

  You must defend your home from the oncoming enemies. Less than 10% of your followers may perish for full success. If more than 50% of your followers die, you fail this quest. This quest cannot be refused.

  Reward for success: Your continued survival. Morale bonuses. XP

  Penalty for failure (or refusal): Unable to be refused.

  Well, that was nice, getting quests from the holding. I pulled a spear out of the bag of holding and passed the bag over to Ragnar.

  “Keep me supplied,” I said.

  Ragnar nodded. I could see Wian paying attention out of the corner of my eye. I leaned way back, took two big steps forward, and launched the spear as hard as I could.

  It sailed through the air, wobbling ever so much before slamming into a corrupted ursus two to the left of the leader. The bear got knocked off its feet, and a bit of a cheer went up from some of the soldiers on the wall, a cry that quickly died on their lips as the bear got back to its feet and continued on, the spear forgotten to the side.

  “Well shit,” I said.

  Still, I held my hand out, and took another spear from Ragnar.

  Another launch.

  Another spear flew through the air, but this time, the ursus got a shield up in time to take the blow. It forced the bear to ditch the shield, but still no injuries.

  Some of the soldiers launched arrows as the bears passed the half-way mark. About 250 yards out. The arrows were mostly annoyances, dropping amongst the bears, bouncing off the thick plates of metal. One or two found gaps in the armor, but even then, they didn’t do much. The ursus’ heavy fur absorbed the hits with little damage going through. It was demoralizing.

  “Conserve your ammunition!” Wian called out to his archers.

  Another thing to think about in terms of our supplies. I’d need to replace the spears I lost.

  I wondered about the ursus remaining in the tree lines. Why were they holding back? Maybe they were the support group, dealing with logistics or whatnot, or they were just being held in reserve. Or they were the illusory ones.

  The ursus stopped remarkably close to the wall, and the leader called something out. I couldn’t understand the language yet, something I should have had Borin teach me, but oops.

  The corrupted ones unslung their weapons, and within a heartbeat, death flew towards the Coggeshall walls. Spears filled the air, then hit around the top of the walls. I had my shield up, and several spears slammed into it. Three came through in an explosion of splinters.

  Cries of pain went up all over the walls, followed quickly by shouts for healers.

  I brought my shield down just in time to see the corrupted ursus charging the last few feet to the wall. Except most had shifted so they were coming for the gate. A gate I had broken earlier that very day.

  “Shit,” I said, really hoping Harmut had worked his butt off and gotten the thing replaced.

  Chapter Six

  The front line of corrupted bearfolk hit the gate with a resounding thud, and loud cracks and creaks echoed out from the complaining door. Seemed like the gate had been fixed. One point for Harmut.

  I leaned over the wall. It was less than ten feet from me to the ursus below. As soon as they saw my face, they started stabbing up with their spears. I dodged as fast as I could until someone pulled me back and out of their reach.

  Bodies slammed repeatedly at the gate, while other ursus jabbed and threw spears at anyone who looked over the wall.

  “The gate will not hold,” Nikolai said.

  I looked up and down the wall. it wasn’t really that bad any other place. The ursus didn’t seem to be willing to walk into the ditch and force their way up the walls. Not when there was a perfectly good gate to go through.

  The pounding continued. I could hear the gate failing.

  I grabbed my shield and hefted my sword.

  “Time to spill some blood,” I said.

  “Do I have permission to use magic, my lord?” Tarryn asked.

  “Unleash hell,” I replied.

  “My lord,” Wian said, “I appreciate your desire to defend your realm, but perhaps the duke should not be receiving the charge.”

  “Pretty sure that’s precisely where I should be,” I countered, tromping down the stairs.

  I shouldered my way through the soldiers waiting. One of the men stepped out of line and threw up. No one paid him any mind.

  The slams on the door came harder and faster. The bears must’ve sensed that the gate was about to give. The door splintered, a hinge failed, and the right door angled off to the side. The first of the ursus pushed himself through. His eyes glowed bright green, a foul sort of cloud coming out of his giant maw, his teeth an almost vibrant yellow.

  I already had my blade moving, bringing it down in a solid overhand chop. It bit deep into the bear’s helmet, shearing through the iron but sticking in the skull.

  And it didn’t seem to faze the bear that much at all.

  He screamed in defiance, trying to get the rest of his bulk through the opening even as his comrades continued to smash at the other door.

  I tried to pull my sword free while dodging the creature’s frantic attempts to get his teeth around my face. There were spears coming all around me, stabbing into the beast through all the little openings in his armor. Blood came from a bevy of wounds, and though he struggled mightily, he lost strength as blood poured out, finally sagging in the door.

  I got my foot up against the wall, and pulled, my sword popping free with a sickening noise.

  Then I reset.

  “My lord,” came a voice behind me, “if it would not offend you, get behind us so we might form a shield wall.”

  I looked over my shoulder at a large man with a host of scars. He seemed like he was doing his damndest not to chew me out.

  “Apologies,” I said, and slipped around the side of the men.

  Immediately, the unmistakable sound of shields being slammed against the ground rang out. The shield wall was in place, ready to receive the charge. I stood at the back of the group for a moment, watching and waiting. My presence was superfluous for the moment, so I went back up the stairs.

  Nikolai and Wian stood ready, shields and swords out, but in a more relaxed manner. There were more assaults up and down the wall now. The corrupt ursus seemed to have grown tired of waiting, and so they tried to climb up the walls out of t
he ditch here and there. No one had gained the wall yet, but it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

  Ragnar and Skeld stood on either side of Tarryn, shields up, ready to ward off a spear if it came Tarryn’s way. Tarryn, meanwhile, was looking around the battlefield. Intent. It seemed like the man was looking in a completely different spectrum, like he was seeing things I couldn’t. And even though I wanted to talk to him, to find out what he was doing or what he was about to do, I figured it was a bad idea to interrupt a concentrating wizard.

  “You think it’s going well?” I asked Nikolai.

  “I think we are holding our ground,” he replied. “But whatever this is, it is not the best of what the corrupt ones have.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Why would the leaders of this outfit send their best to capture Borin and the children? No, these must be the dregs of their group. The least-seasoned of their soldiers. You can tell by the manner in which they operate. They have little in the way of leadership. They attack the middle and leave the sides open. There is no strategy here, merely brute strength. But when they run, they will know that our walls are not held by farmers, and that information is potent.”

  “You think they’ll run?”

  “Either they run or we get eaten. I can only prepare for one of those outcomes.”

  “I mean, I can get some salt and pepper, make you all tasty for them.”

  He gave me a rare wry smile.

  We heard a big crash below us, followed by a lot of roaring.

  The gate had finally failed completely. All the remaining ursus rushed at it, trying to get in. I knew it was only a matter of time before the shield wall would no longer hold up against the massive strength of an army of giant bears.

  Tarryn was waving his hands around, chanting something softly. In a quick motion, he pulled a handful of dust from a pouch on his belt, then threw it into the air and shouted something I didn’t quite catch.

  There was a woosh, and an orange column of fire shot up in the air, disappearing into the dark sky above.

  “Might want to stand back,” Tarryn said, moving back from the edge of the wall before dropping down to his knees, clearly exhausted.

  I looked behind me, into the town, and saw those in the shield wall being pushed back into the town under the weight of the ursus onslaught.

  A shrill whistle sounded for a slice of a second before a massive orange ball fell from the heavens. It slammed into the ground right in front of the gate with enough force that Nikolai was thrown backward. I grabbed him, catching his slight body in one hand while leaning forward into the blast. Other soldiers on the walls got blown off, and I had to imagine the effects on the ground were stunning.

  A stillness hung in the air, compounded somewhat by the intense ringing in my ears. A huge plume of smoke rose up, curling into the sky, just shy of a mushroom cloud.

  I seemed to recover before anyone else, and so had time to lean over the wall to take in the destruction.

  It was gnarly. There was a very deep, rather large crater in the spot where we’d once had a road leading into Coggeshall. Now, the defensive ditch went into a hole. Anything remotely flammable was burning, including the fur of plenty of dead ursus, as well as the wooden remnants of the gate.

  Groans of pain and cries for help started up. I got the notification:

  Smashing! You’ve learned a new language, Ursusian.

  Which let me hear the gruesome details of how horrible some of the creatures were feeling at that moment.

  I ran down to ground level. The Thingmen who’d formed the shield wall were still picking themselves up, having been blown flat by the blast. The ursus lucky enough to be inside the walls when the meteor, or whatever, hit, stumbled around, dark blood coming out of their ears. Their fur on fire.

  I snatched a dropped spear from the ground, and started in on the stabbing, putting down as many of the vile bears who’d taken up arms against Coggeshall as I could. I didn’t much care that they were incapacitated at the moment; mercy wasn’t on the table. My soldiers had split into two groups at the yelling of a sergeant, and while I killed, they got the doors back up, more or less, with large logs braced against them to make something of a defensible structure.

  Which was great. Except they’d left me outside.

  Outside where both the sights and sounds were terrible, burnt hair everywhere. I killed everything still alive up to the edge of the crater. It was difficult to get close to the pit — an intense heat radiated out. Stones near the edge glowed red, while the remnants of ursus armor glowed white hot.

  I looked out across the field of battle. The remaining ursus had withdrawn to the tree line. There were plenty of injured left behind, with absolutely no attempt to help them. Standing there, listening to their calls for their comrades ignored, I knew leaving them to call out all night would just drive me crazy. I had to do something.

  Chapter Seven

  I slid into the ditch and walked along for a few yards. Then someone called down to me from above.

  “Your grace,” came the voice, “what are you doing?”

  A young Thingman was leaning over the battlements, her hair tucked under a helmet, a spear in her hand.

  “Intelligence gathering,” I replied.

  “My lord, you should have a protection detail—”

  I waved her off, and climbed out of the ditch on the other side, thinking that we needed to consider putting punji sticks around the ditch. Or maybe even dig some extra holes throughout the cleared field and put sharpened stakes in there. Anything to make the ditches harder to cross. And less fun to be in.

  The soft snowfall sizzled against the hot crater, and did a pretty decent job of keeping the spread of the fire contained. I walked up to the first incapacitated ursus and slid my spear into the back of his skull. His incoherent groans stopped immediately, and I got another kill notice.

  GG! You’ve killed a Corrupt Ursus (lvl 18 Bruiser).

  You’ve earned 500 xp! What a mighty hero you are.

  The world even recognized them as corrupt. Although, there was always the chance that the name of the creature was somehow predicated on what I’d been calling said creature. I had no idea where the boundaries between the game world and my own brain were. If I started calling rabbits smeerps, would I get notifications for killing smeerps instead of rabbits? I knew I could ask Nikolai about this, but he hated digging into those specifics with me. He thought it was a waste of time. The world was. You either accepted it and did your thing, or you sunk all your time into thinking about how it worked and did nothing.

  So, in honor of Nikolai, I killed a few more of the really injured ursus, and took notice that each of their notifications came up as corrupt.

  Finally, I found one who wasn’t fatally injured, and knelt next to it. The ursus looked at me with fear in its eyes. Eyes that were notably no longer glowing.

  “Evening,” I said.

  The eyes went wider when I spoke. I think it saw the gore at the end of my spear and perhaps realized its comrades were not coming for it.

  “So, I’m the Duke of Coggeshall. You attacked my town, and kinda got the shit blown out of you. By the smell of things around here, I’d say that’s literal. I can bring you back to my town, patch you up, save you, that sort of thing. But that requires you being of some use to me.”

  Nothing from the ursus.

  “Just so you know, I mean, you probably do, but I figured I should tell you,” I continued, “your glowing eyes are gone. And your claws aren’t smoking. So I have the feeling that whatever deal you made for bonus powers has either ended or been canceled. So you might want to start rethinking loyalties.”

  I stood up, and speared a few of the fellows around the ursus to make a point.

  “I would rather die than help you,” the bear said. “You are but a sharp pebble in the path of my people.”

  “Maybe.”

  “The army we have dwarfs anything you can imagine.”

>   “I don’t know about that — I’ve got quite a few dwarves.”

  “You will not be glib when our army shows up at your door.”

  “What’s this here?” I asked, gesturing at the dead around him.

  “A raiding party sent after a traitor.”

  “Seems like your raiding party is going home.”

  “We were not prepared for battle,” the bear said. “Only to scout and raid. You will be destroyed.”

  “Dude, we fucked you up—”

  “Your magic will not stand against ours. You are weak, your walls will crumble, you fools will be food for our livestock.”

  “At least we’ll be useful,” I replied. And immediately I wished I’d had a better comeback. At least we’ll be useful? What the fuck does that even mean? “I know we’re both supposed to be intense and, you know, throwing threats back and forth, but can you pretend I didn’t say that?”

  “You will die squealing,” the bear said. “I swear it.”

  “See, that’s what I should have said. Much better.”

  I jammed the spear into the bear’s head, pushing it deep into the ground. And I left it there. I stood up and looked out across to the ursus in the tree line.

  Most were gone already. A few remained standing there, looking out.

  “You come back,” I shouted, then pointed to the impaled ursus next to me, “this will seem like mercy.”

  I turned my back on the ursus, and walked back to Coggeshall.

  You have completed a quest given to you by the holding of Coggeshall:

  Defend Your Home

  You defended your home from the oncoming enemies, and less than 10% of your followers perished.

  Reward for success: Your continued survival. Morale bonus for two months unless a battle is lost. 4000 XP