by Rosie Scott
The storm was dying overhead, and the snow had lessened to drifting flurries. Firelight glowed across the gorge in flickering orange, picking up the slack of the slowly retreating sun. The ground ahead was in the midst of chaos. The armies of Altan and Kirek spilled forth from the path to the grasslands, meeting three separate arms of Hammerton's army which had made their temporary home in three mines. The dwarves were smart; they had attempted to surround my allies with their own men while using their mechanical defenses as support. It had mostly worked. The Eteri Army had suffered casualties during the initial breach, overwhelmed at all sides by foes while having to face being bombarded with onager ammo and ballista darts. The onagers had since been destroyed. One of them had been torn apart from beneath with the risen stone of an earth mage, and others were charred with fire.
The ballistae, however, were mostly unscathed. The defenses were perched above each mine entrance on stone overhangs. These were more complicated machines than the ballistae of dwarven ships, for each weapon was raised up on a platform and could be moved and directed to shoot in all directions both horizontally and vertically. Each ballista was manned by at least two dwarves. While one sat just behind its winch and was in charge of aiming and firing the weapon, the other grabbed large darts out of nearby stockpiles to reload. On the sides of the mountains beside the platforms were holes that acted as doorways, explaining how the dwarves had ended up on the ledges. The wooden walkways near my army continued into the gorge, but the ballistae were unreachable from their paths. Even so, my soldiers were surrounding the land ahead via the bridges on both sides, firing arrows and magic into the foes below.
The stone paths led to small defensive towers which rose alongside the mountains. From small vertically rectangular windows, dwarven crossbowmen were shooting bolts into allies below. The windows were too small for most magic to reach them, but Azazel was soon firing his own arrows through them with deadly accuracy.
The ballistae were the greatest threat, and one my army could deal with. I pointed ahead to the weapons and called to Holter, “Focus on the defenses, Holter!”
The beastman rose from his place on the railing of a nearby bridge, his dark blackish-brown wings flapping heavily in the air. Holter swooped forward off the bridge, screeching as he made his way through the skies above the gorge. The ballista he was flying toward was loaded, and the dwarf angled the weapon to point down at the allies below. A chubby hand grasped onto the trigger, tugging back and releasing the ballista's dart.
A high-pitched whistling surrounded the ammo as it arced down into the masses, its projection deadlier with the helpful pull of gravity. The steel head of the dart hit an Eteri soldier straight in the T-zone of her face. Her skull split in half from the pressure and shattered, pieces of broken bone and flecks of bloody brain matter fanning out over the allies beside her. Even before her body hit the ground, the dart continued on its trek behind her, impaling straight through the torso armor of two men in a row, pinning them together and throwing both broken bodies to the ground. One of the soldiers survived the initial hit, but the rising and falling of his chest soon stopped.
The weapon was reloaded, and the dwarf in charge of firing it redirected his aim to Holter as the oozlum-kin swooped toward him, both scaled feet stretched out ahead of his body. The foe was grabbed before he could pull the trigger, the toes of one of Holter's feet completely encasing his head, talons curled beneath the jaw and piercing his throat. The dwarf wasn't dead yet, but he struggled to free himself as Holter carried him off by only the head. The beastman turned and made a second pass, soon grabbing the other man with his second foot.
The first dwarf's struggles soon ceased as his spinal cord finally separated from the back of his skull with the pressure of hanging body weight, but the second man was still alive. Holter sped up his pace toward the face of a nearby mountain, flying so fast I thought he'd end up killing himself. Just before he met solid rock, he threw both dwarves forward while using his massive wings to fly backward and avoid crashing into the landscape. Both of the bodies collided with the snowy rock, leaving streaks of blood as they tumbled down the cold stone.
A roc-kin in the midst of battle tried doing the same thing and succeeded in removing one of the dwarves from his ballista. The other still sat behind it, however, and aimed the loaded weapon at the beastman as he dived to grab the other dwarf. The ballista fired, the dart impaling the roc through the right side of the chest. The bird spun in mid-air from the strength of the hit, falling to the ground and crashing through a cart full of ore. The wagon broke and spilled its contents, and the roc-kin collapsed over the ore, its chest rapidly expanding with breaths of fear as the nictitating membranes of its eyes glazed over the organs in efforts to protect them.
Holter also saw the roc-kin fall and was soon weathering being shot by multiple crossbows as he grabbed the bird with both feet, lifting up the other beastman with a monumental effort. I heard the oozlum-kin screech a few times with pain as he was hit on his way to us before he dropped the injured roc on the stone before my feet.
Blood drizzled over Holter's dark feathers from multiple wounds as he perched himself on a nearby railing. As Cerin hurried to help him, I rushed to heal the roc-kin. At first, I was worried that my relative ignorance of bird anatomy would keep me from being able to accurately mend the beastman, but I found it to be self-explanatory. Many of the organs of the bird were the same, just in slightly different locations. When I used life magic on the lighter bones of the bird, it rebuilt them as they had been, rendering my worries unfounded. The roc was utterly impaled, but the dart had missed most of his organs. With Azazel's help pulling the ammo out a few inches at a time to limit blood loss, the bird was completely healed within minutes. If it weren't for Holter's selflessness in trying to save him, he would have died before I could reach him.
“Thank you!” I called over to Holter as he lifted up from the bridge once more to continue fighting. A look of gratitude passed through his eyes, and then he was gone. I was impressed with the younger man's ability to diversify in battle and follow orders.
The roc-kin at my feet transformed back into his normal form. He was Vhiri, his bronzed skin matching the golden tone of his blood-kin's feathers. He also must have been young, for he appeared both exhausted and embarrassed to be nude in front of strangers. I pulled my royal green cloak off, throwing it around his shoulders to protect him from both humiliation and the cold.
“Go back to the coast,” I told him. “Get rest. Tell the soldiers there to transport the belongings of the beastmen from our battleships to the town if they have time.”
The man nodded and thanked me for my aid before hurrying off to town to follow my orders.
I turned back to the battle. Below us, I saw that both Maggie and Nyx had already joined the other armies below. The walkways surrounding the gorge were clear of defenders, leaving only the dwarves from the mines. I rushed off to join the fight with Cerin and Azazel on my heels.
Cerin soon disabled one of the remaining ballistae by throwing a death bomb at its operators. The last manned defense was in the midst of reloading as a ba'al-kin landed beside it. The demon's wide mouth abruptly opened as it screamed, its voice only the cruel grating of metal on metal. One of the dwarves yelped in fear at the intimidating and unknown creature. He redirected the ballista to the ba'al's chest, but its bladed hands slashed out in a flurry, leaving the ballista collapsed in a pile of shredded wood and sawdust. Both dwarves were soon in pieces of meat and torn armor over the platform, the bodies releasing so much blood that it ran over the edges and drizzled down the mountain in red streaks.
I focused on leeching from foes and regenerating the energy of my allies, giving them much-needed support. The dead of both dwarves and Vhiri rose as Cerin called them to arms, bolstering our numbers. Where the dwarves once surrounded us, we now surrounded them. The combination of the beastmen and walking corpses gave us an immense advantage in intimidation, and the dwarves were soon panicki
ng.
Night soon fell over our battle, leaving us all under the glow of firelight from both lamps and forges. The Hammerton soldiers were tiring. Even though the outnumbered dwarves were fighting valiantly, those who were alive were fatigued. I could nearly smell victory.
“Move!” A woman's hoarse voice yelled out from the mine entrance to my right. A dwarf with an air of confidence pushed through her peers to be at the front of the defensive line. She was dressed in the blue and gold armor of Hammerton and had her long blonde hair pulled into a braid to keep it out of her way. A slingshot was grasped in her left hand, and her right dug into a heavy ammo bag at her hip.
The dwarven soldiers beside her gave her space as she pulled a ball of ammo the size of a fist from the bag and loaded it into her weapon. She pulled the string back, releasing the ammo into the front line of Eteri soldiers. The ball hit the forehead of a mage and cracked open, releasing fine dust which billowed outward from the point of impact in the yellowish-brown color of vomit. The mage affected first screamed in agony, grasping at her face as she folded to the ground. Two other allies had been too close and fell beside her, holding their faces as they writhed over the stone.
The screams soon turned into hissing gurgles, and the three soldiers went limp with death. Hands fell from their faces, revealing a most disturbing sight. The powder had eaten through the outer layers of skin, muscles, and organs alike, leaving their faces looking as if they'd been peeled away. Eyelids were missing, and two of the casualties even had parts of their eyeballs eaten away like they'd been dipped in acid. Facial bones shone white through melted skin and muscle, and their open mouths were only bared teeth which barely covered the sight of half-eaten tongues.
I swallowed hard as I remembered Azazel's words about the dangers of offensive alchemy. I built an enervat spell in my palm and turned back to the dwarf responsible. She had her hand in her ammo bag again, grabbing another ball of acid. Then, she abruptly stilled, her eyes widening with shock as her throat was gouged by an unseen force. The woman fell dead to the ground as the dwarves behind her began to panic, unable to see any threat.
The ammo bag at the corpse's belt was tugged at before leather straps were sliced through by a blade. As soon as the pouch was separated from its original owner, it went invisible, affected by the illusion magic of its holder. Then Nyx appeared, dispelling her magic as she dug into the bag, spitting curses at the dwarves ahead while throwing balls of acid into the group of them as if they were her throwing stars.
Clay balls burst into armor and men alike, releasing acidic powder into the air between masses of foes. Dwarves fell to the ground in squirming masses of melting flesh, at the mercy of their own alchemy. Those who weren't affected backed away from Nyx even as she ran out of ammo. I rose the recent dead, and dwarves with melted faces soon were fighting kin as they screamed in fear.
Nyx glanced over at me as I regenerated her shield. Throwing the empty ammo bag on the ground, she said, “We have got to get me more of those.”
“I'll add it to the budget,” I replied, to which she laughed.
The sounds of battle were lessening. I found Maggie just feet away, watching over the heads of nearby soldiers. She was no longer fighting, and though Cerin leeched from a foe nearby, once the dwarf fell my lover rejoined my side since he was out of enemies. I hurried up to the engineer and asked, “What do you see?”
“It looks like Altan and Kirek are accepting surrender,” Maggie replied, pointing over at the southern mountain. I followed her direction, but I was too short to see over the heads of our allies.
“Take me there,” I requested.
“Aye.”
Maggie led the Renegades through the crowds of soldiers and to the wall of a mountain, where hundreds of dwarves were grouped behind a forge, watching Altan and Kirek with nervous eyes. Both Sentinels were covered in blood, muscles bulging from recent use.
A dwarven woman at the front of the group took note of my arrival, and her eyes betrayed the fact that she knew who I was. “We surrender,” she said, and it was apparent by the defeat in her voice that she was repeating it. Her eyes stayed on mine for a moment, begging for mercy.
Kirek's axes audibly dripped blood as she glared at the dwarves with flared nostrils. “You know our orders, Altan,” she said, her voice as monotone as ever. She didn't look over to her comrade as she added, “No survivors.”
The dwarven woman's eyes widened as she looked back at Kirek, before switching her gaze to Altan, waiting for his response.
“I do know our orders,” Altan agreed, slowly looping his chain back on his belt. “That's how I know they're stupid. Look at all of these mines, Kirek.” He flipped a bronze hand toward the surrounding mountains. “We need the dwarves alive to teach us how to work them, what resources they can offer us. We need them to keep this town running.”
“Many of our people are miners,” Kirek retorted. “The giants are miners. We have nothing to learn from these people.”
“All right, fine,” Altan replied. “What do I care? Slaughter everyone here if you want to work in the mines yourself. Pull our own soldiers from their tasks to pick up the slack and weaken our army.” His tone was sarcasm incarnate. “You may wish our men to work here, Kirek. I wish them to fight.”
I was happy to have Altan here. He knew just what to say to get Kirek to reconsider. Irritation creased her features as she glanced behind Altan, where Zephyr stood after finding us from across the battlefield. “Zephyr?” Kirek asked. “What is your vote?”
Zephyr crossed her pale arms over her chest. “They have surrendered,” she replied simply, as if that was an answer in and of itself. She turned to me. “Kai?”
Both Kirek and Altan found where I stood, alerted to my presence. I felt the gazes of hundreds of dwarves as I replied, “How weak are the victors of battle if they resort to slaughtering those who surrender.”
Kirek abruptly sheathed her axes and glared at Altan. “Fine. But I will take no blame for the inevitable fall-out. The consequences of this decision are yours.”
Altan stared right back, the confidence of his gaze unfaltering. “I accept that.”
I walked forward, passing Altan and Kirek and stopping before the prisoners of war. The dwarven woman at the front watched me nervously as I looked through the peers behind her.
“Those of you with injuries,” I began, “come forward. Cerin and I will heal you.” I turned to motion toward my lover. “We are both healers.”
Though the dwarves were generally anxious and distrusting, my offer caused many of them to come forward. Cerin and I healed them one by one using the excess energy of our leeching highs until we both were as fatigued as the dwarves appeared to be. Finally, I looked through the rest of the prisoners, ensuring all of them had been tended to. One man stood out among the rest, sitting on the ground by the side of the forge. His eyes were downcast, and his left leg was severely broken, lying out before him at a sickening angle. Blood had pooled beneath him from the injury, thickening over the passing of time.
“I will come to you,” I said, moving toward the injured man as he glanced up to see I was talking about him.
His dark eyes were sharp with hostility despite his fatigue. “No,” he said, his voice thick with hatred. “I want no aid from a necromancer.”
The other dwarves were hushed as they waited for my response. I replied, “Okay. That's fine. I can get one of the life mages to heal you.”
“No.” The dwarf chuckled humorlessly. “Ya misunderstand me. I want no aid from those who seek to destroy my people in lust for power and destruction.”
“Whether your idea of my quest is true or not, we are not so different after all,” I reasoned. “It was not long ago that Hammerton aided Chairel in its invasion of Nahara.”
“We lost in Nahara,” the dwarf spat. “We lost here. How is that fair?”
“All is fair in the game of war if you play by the rules,” I replied. “There are two sides to every battle. It is f
air because even though you lost, you had a chance to fight and you did. And now, I offer you my aid.”
The man scoffed and waved at me dismissively. “I'm not bartering with ya, necromancer. I don't want to hear your philosophies and sudden offers of mercy. I'd rather die than accept help from one who deals with the dead.”
“As you shall die if you don't let yourself be healed.”
“Fuck off.”
I raised an eyebrow and moved my gaze back to the others. “If you are ever in need of aid, request for me. My skills and magic are at your disposal.”
I turned away from the prisoners and started to walk back through the battlefield, preparing to help clean up. Zephyr stopped me with a hand on my arm. “I admire your mercy and your restraint,” she began, “but I would have punched the asshole right in his ugly nose if he spoke to me like that.”
“I'm sure that's what he wanted me to do,” I replied. “He wants me to prove to the others that I am what he says I am. By not letting him get to me, I am proving him wrong in front of his own people. That wound will kill him, but so will his pride. He will have to die knowing that his death is by his own doing. Not mine.”
Zephyr's lips curved into an admiring smile as she took in my words. She moved her hand from my arm, letting me go. My friends and Renegades followed me back through the battlefield. Somehow, we'd managed to secure a place in Hammerton without slaughtering everyone. Though Monte had offered up a larger threat than we'd initially anticipated, it was still just a small victory at the beginning of a long campaign which was sure to bring us many surprises and challenges.