Camelot Defiant_An Arthurian LitRPG

by Galen Wolf

  The cavalry and I are on the right wing of our force. To the left of our troops is Bernard on Henry. He’s leading the halberdiers. Again, they’re gleaming as the pale sunlight strikes their meteoric iron plate armour. There are seventy of them now. They’ve still kept their name from when they were raised in Camelot based on a district in that city — The Currock Yeomanry.

  Behind them, are the Raffles Light Archers also named after a district in Camelot. They’re sixty strong. Uchtred is with them, barking out orders as the troops drill into line, and finally behind them on horses are Fitheach in white and Tye with his unruly ginger hair ruffled by the breeze.

  Above us twelve eagles hang on the wind, our aerial shield against any pterosaurs or giant bats the enemy deploy against us.

  When we’re in line, the troops seem to be waiting for something. Uchtred keeps glancing at me and then I realise he wants me to say some words. It’s traditional for the general to give a speech before a battle, and I realise that the general is me. I clear my throat and ride forward. When I’m in front of the whole force, I turn and I see that they’re wearing my livery. I’ve never commanded my own regiments before and all the shields have the green background and red chevron of my own arms — Sir Gorrow of the Bloody Field. That actually makes me almost fill up. I feel a lump in my throat that I have to get rid of before I speak.

  I’m not much of a man for speeches, but I manage to say something.

  ‘Men, some of you have been with me for a long time, and some are only new recruits. But even so, you have been well trained by Uchtred and well equipped by Geraint. The truth is we will be out-numbered and you will see monsters the like of which you’ve never seen before, but I want you to be confident in your weapons and your leadership. The players who are with you here are some of the best in Logres. They won’t let you down. And you won’t let us down.’

  There’s a pause and a silence as if they’re waiting for more, then I say, ‘That’s it.’

  Then a huge hurrah goes out from the ranks. I know some of them aren’t going to make it through today and because they’re NPCs, they’ll be gone forever when they die. I regret that, but we have to strike at the enemy before they strike at us, and now is the time.

  I nod at Uchtred and he gives the order to advance. The units go into column to march down the moor road that leads to Carrionburg. We start off and we’re marching through the black and red evil haze across the devastated moorland but the enemy village is still out of sight over the horizon.

  We’ve been going a mile or two and I know Carrionburg will be visible any minute, but then I see the black dots of pterosaurs high up in front of us spotting for their forces. Uchtred looks to me for instructions. I nod. ‘Get the eagles above them.’

  He yells and orders the eagle squadron to climb. Soon they are tiny dots moving up and toward the enemy. I watch while they close on the pterosaurs, but don’t attack.

  ‘Permission to engage?’ Uchtred asks.

  I sweep my hand forward. ‘Take them out.’

  And then I observe. It’s like watching aircraft dogfight in old Second World War movies. The black dots circle each other silently — any noise of war doesn’t carry this far. And then I see a dot fall. It tumbles like a stone but I don’t know if it’s one of ours or one of theirs. The dots tussle and more fall. Then I check our military tab on the HUD.

  We have ten eagles remaining, so two are down. It’s hard to work out if we’re winning or not. But we march on while the aerial battle rages far above.

  ‘There!’ Bernard yells from my left. A black line has appeared on the horizon. I see a slight bobbing of heads: enemy spearmen. And at right and left of the line are taller figures. These must be giants. I glance at my halberdiers. I just have to trust they’ll withstand the charge.

  We’re near contact now so we have to come out of column and deploy in battle formation. I yell to Uchtred to order the halt. The column comes to a juddering halt and waits for orders. The land to the right is flat-ish and there’s a series of tumbledown boulders that form a barrier. We’ll anchor our right flank against that, with marshy ground in front.

  ‘Tye, go up on the boulder over there but w ait for my order before firing.’

  The wizard nods and rides across the flat land. I see it’s pretty boggy in parts, which is fine because there’s a low tongue of drier land just behind that joins to the boulders. I can tell that because the vegetation goes from diseased reeds, where the water is, to diseased heather, where it isn’t.

  ‘Uchtred. Line the halberdiers up on that dry ridge.’ I indicate where he’s to go and he shouts an order. ‘Fitheach, put the archers behind the halberdiers’ line.’

  Without a word the saint takes the sixty light archers. They arrive in place before the halberdiers are full formed up. I glance up to see the aerial dog-fight has finished. There are seven dots sailing up there. I check on my HUD shows me they’re ours. That’s good at least.

  I realise I’m getting tense. I have Uchtred with the halberdiers on the ridge and Fitheach with the archers behind them. Tye’s on the biggest rock on the right of the halberdiers — unmistakable because of his hair. Bernard’s milling around until I put him on the left of the halberdiers as a stop at the end of the line.

  That leaves me and the ten heavy cavalry. They look quiet and confident. I wish I was.

  The enemy have come onto the plain now and are lining up against us. There are hill giants and trolls and a squadron of werewolves. Soon they’ll charge.

  Uchtred comes to where I am with the cavalry on the far left of our troops. Dark water glitters in pools among the reeds in front of our halberdiers, but I’ve made sure our cavalry have drier ground in front of us for when we counter charge.

  I glance down from Spirit. Uchtred salutes. He looks troubled.

  ‘What is it?’ I ask.

  ‘Eagles have spotted enemy reinforcements coming from the north, probably from New World Order.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘It looks like a couple of hundred. Mainly undead.’

  I nod. It figures. That means we’ll have to destroy Maligon’s forces from Carrionburg if we can before the reinforcements arrive. Then I look at the marsh in front of our troops. We will need to tempt them to attack us so they get bogged down in that.

  I’m thinking that when I hear the sound of their out-of-tune bone horns sounding. I guess they didn’t need much tempting. I see players among their battle line. One is certainly Maligon, I recognise his death’s head coat of arms. Then I see Elizabeth Bathory and Reza. I hope I get to kill them again.

  Uchtred’s still waiting. I say, ‘Go back to the troops. We want the enemy in the marsh. Wait for them to start to flounder through that and tell Fitheach and the archers to hold their fire until the first enemy are slowed crossing the bog and then decimate them.’

  He salutes again and leaves me.

  The werewolves break away from the main enemy line, either by plan or because they can’t restrain their enthusiasm to kill us. The corporal of the cavalry is looking at me waiting for orders. ‘Just hold it for a minute,’ I say. ‘I’ll tell you when.’

  I watch while the werewolves find the drier ground and that funnels them towards my cavalry. Some go on four legs, others on two. Huge and grey and black, I can make out their fangs and their red eyes as they run at us. My corporal is getting impatient. ‘Just a minute more,’ I say, trying to sound calm.

  The werewolves are two hundred yards from us now, well in front of the rest of their army. That’s foolish. And they’re keeping to the drier ground so coming straight at my cavalry, and leaving my infantry alone.

  ‘Form up in spear-point formation,’ I call to the corporal and the cavalry moves sideways and back, the horses and riders forming a triangle with me at the point.

  The werewolves are less than a hundred yards distant, they’re sprinting, howling and barking. Coming very fast.

  Just a minute more.

  Then ‘Charge!
’ I call out and the cavalry thunder forward. Spirit snorts and gathers momentum. My lance is couched under my arm aimed at the lead werewolf, a big ugly beast with yellow teeth. Spirit powers towards the enemy and then we hit.

 

 

 

  Wow. I’ve never seen such a big number. I must have killed the thing twice. All around me my armoured knights are smashing into the werewolves. They don’t have my star-silver effect but they do have vorpal. There’s a flash of blue as the first vorpal effect triggers and a rider strikes a werewolf’s head from its shoulders. Then there’s another to my left and another.

  I drag out my sword in place of my lance and hack around me with the blade. Every time it hits a werewolf, it slaughters it. This effect is almost overpowered but I’m not complaining. I suppose in the interests of game balance, the Star Silver only effects lycanthropes. Then the vorpal effect triggers on my sword at the same time as the anti-lycanthrope effect and I kill another wolf-man twice.

  I pick up 900xp for hardly any effort after killing six werewolves.

  All around me my guys are cutting the wolves down. A big grey one lunges at me snarling, but it can’t get through my new crystal armour. Lazily I lunge, and it’s dead. Another 150xp.

  I see the werewolf morale is faltering. There’s fear in their yellow eyes. Then with snarls and whimpers they turn and flee. My cavalry rush after them, trying to cut them down but I need to get discipline back here. We’ve won this little skirmish but there’s a big battle still to be fought. I call to the cavalry to halt and come back.

  ‘Let them go. They’re broken. Back into formation,’ I yell. One by one my troopers obey my orders and return from the pursuit, coming back to form up as a spear-head behind me again. Then we stand and wait for the next enemy.

  The line of trolls and giants and hobgoblins has been glancing nervously at how easily we slaughtered their wolf comrades, but they’re still coming. They’re close now, and starting to splash through the reedy ground in front of our main line. Fitheach’s holding the archers’ fire, but Tye isn’t holding his. I see darting beams of fire shoot out from his position on top of the rocks. His Flame Ray is his long distance spell, with a better range than fireball, though I expect him to deploy those soon and I hope that he got well provisioned with mana potions by Bernard before the fight.

  He’s taking down the giants, which is good tactics, and they catch fire and stumble, screaming into the bog, trying to douse the flames before he fries them again with a follow up ray. Uchtred stands by the halberdiers waiting for contact with a fixed look on his face.

  Then when the enemy are halfway through the bog and their front line passes us at a distance of around fifty yards, our archers open up. The thrum of the bowstrings fills the air and see the cloud of arrows coming from our ranks like a cloud of angry bee that clatter and strike against enemy armour, thinning their ranks. The enemy are calf deep in the muddy water now, some knee deep, hindering them just like I planned. Uchtred calls an order and the halberdiers ready themselves.

  The first trolls are coming out of the muddy ground now and Uchtred bellows out and the halberdiers charge. They have the impetus of coming down the slight slope and as they smack into the enemy, the trolls and hobgoblins reel back into the mud. Then it’s a chaos of combat. I see blood, both black and red and hear the screams of the wounded of both sides, but in the middle of the melee the blue flashes tell me the vorpal effects on our weapons are triggering.

  The line of dwemmer archers shoots over their front line to hit our archers behind our halberdiers. I see some of our guys fall. Fitheach orders a counter-attack and more arrows fly up. Time for me to clear away the enemy archers.

  I give the order and the heavy cavalry canter overs, getting to the left and behind the enemy front line. A glance to my right shows Elizabeth Bathory is going for Tye but is met by a fire ray in her chest. She fires back her diseased energy, and the wizard staggers, but I can’t help Tye now. The dwemmers are in front of us. They see us and turn, readying their bows. I yell out an order and our canter becomes a gallop and so ten heavy cavalry and a Knight of the Round Table pound over the dead grass, picking up speed to flank the enemy.

  I have my lance in my hand again but before we hit them, the archers break and run. If we’d been infantry that might have worked, but we’re cavalry. We easily catch them and then it’s sword work cutting them down. I leave my men to do the job and turn to the enemy third line which is stretched out about three hundred yards away. I see Maligon in the middle and Reza at the far end.

  There are hill giants and more trolls. Maligon is mounted. While my men are engaged in cutting down the archers, I look right to see our halberdiers have made mincemeat of the enemy front line which is fleeing the field. Tye has killed Elizabeth Bathory. I’d kind of wanted to do that myself, but I don’t begrudge him.

  Even from here, I hear Maligon’s bellow. I see the black aura of the Death Knight fire up and the enemy third line moves forward. Without doubt, he’s coming for me.

  I order my cavalry back into spear formation. I’m not going to be reckless. We need to retreat back to our main line and not be caught way in front of our troops. It takes a few minutes to get all the cavalry back in place and so far we’ve lost none. The same number of eagles flies overhead, but lower now so I can see their tawny feathers and yellow taloned feet.

  We retreat at a gallop to our initial position. Uchtred has kept his halberdiers in formation at the top of the low ridge, though I see some gaps in our line now. Tye’s on his rock. Bernard is in position and Fitheach behind with the archers. We’re crushing them so far.

  I hear a pounding like a herd of elephants and as we wheel round to face the enemy; the giants and trolls have broken into a run. Maligon has ridden down the length of the line so he’s facing me.

  We’re going to do the same thing as before. Fitheach will hold fire until the giants are wading through the marshy ground. The halberdiers are going to hold.

  Maligon is in front of his line. I hear him call out to me. ‘Sir Gorrow the brown nosed.’

  I ignore his taunt, but he continues. ‘Want to fight a real man? Or are you scared to be humiliated in front of your boys?’

  Time for my lance. I twist in my saddle. ‘Wait here,’ I say to the corporal of cavalry. I take my crystal lance and face Maligon.

  The Baron of Carrionburg seems confident. He taps down his black visor, his necrotic aura flaring out around him then puts his lance under his arm, sets his shield and charges. I mutter to Spirit, ‘Let’s go, boy.’

  The evil knight of Carrionburg looks big and bad as his black horse stamps its way towards us. Spirit doesn’t falter, we match him in speed and even accelerate. I’m aiming the tip of my crystal lance at Maligon’s dark heart. The rest of the world blurs out and my only focus is where my lance is aimed. The ground thunders past and I brace myself for him hitting me, because he surely will. We’re seconds from impact and I mentally count down until I smash into him with a bang and I’m knocked straight out of my saddle and a health warning flashes on my HUD.

 

 

 

  I’m flat on my back dazed staring at the sky above. Spirit has stumbled and fallen and I’m vaguely aware of him getting up painfully. I struggle to move and as my mind clears, I bring my focus back to more messages that are waiting on my HUD.

 

 

  I beat him with one hit, but that wasn’t luck, that was down to build choices. I get up on my elbows. Spirit is by me, his reins hanging to the ground. The enemy have faltered seeing me kill their leader, but now Reza, the second-in-command, is urging them forward.

  I stand, try to clear my head and get up in the stirrups and ride Spirit away
from the charging enemy. My cavalry are waiting and watching. Before I reach them, I shout, ‘Charge!,’ and they surge past me and smash into the giants and trolls, cutting them down with their vorpal weapons. The halberdiers are doing the same.

  I turn and watch the enemy’s defeat. Seeing the slaughter, Reza decides discretion is the better part of valour and turns and retreats with what remains of his army. I signal over to Uchtred with a straight arm and our halberdiers advance after the foe. The enemy retreat becomes a rout and our cavalry are among them, cutting them down.

  I cup my hands to my mouth. ‘Advance to Carrionburg!’

  The Red Dragon

  Reza’s vanished and what few troops they have left in Carrionburg put up no resistance at all and soon we’re burning down their black buildings and smashing their foul sculptures. I take special pleasure from going with Bernard into the unholy chapel where the Carrionburg town stone is.

  As we walk along the aisle, our noses wrinkle at the stench of sulphur and asa foetida that they use to honour their demonic overlords. The windows of the chapel are made of stained glass in red and purple that portray vile scenes. ‘Remember coming in here once before, Bernard?’ I ask as we stride up to the unholy altar.

  ‘Oh yes. We all got killed as I recall, though you did manage to destroy their altar.’

  I look around and there are the heavy canopic jars that I used to smash the altar last time while trying not to die from enemy arrows. This time it’s much easier.

  One blow from the hilt of my sword shatters the black stone and it’s like a veil has been lifted. A great roar of victory comes from our troops outside as the black and red haze dissipates and is replaced by clear blue mountain air. The enemy zone of control has been lifted from Carrionburg. In fact it’s not even Carrionburg now, it’s Allendale again. At least for a while.