"A pleasure to meet you all," Siggard said, bowing just in case. As he rose, he noticed a look of approval from Guthwulf.
Tilgar pointed to the map. "It has now been a week and a half since we have had any word from the villages around the seat of Brennor, and our scouts have yet to report. Our supplies are now running low, and we have perhaps a reserve of one month before people start starving. I understand that Siggard and Sarnakyle have information pertaining to this?"
Siggard nodded and stepped forward. "Your lordship, I fear that there is little or no relief coming. The settlements that supply the town have been destroyed by a demonic army."
Hunfrith raised his hand. "I will vouch for them. We have all seen the bodies found after the attack on the main barracks. They were not human."
"Your lordship, if I may," Sarnakyle broke in. "I fought at Viz-jun against Bartuc, the Warlord of Blood. He was one of our number who had become, for all intents and purposes, an archdemon. He followed a similar strategy against us. First he destroyed all the settlements supporting the city, and then he assailed the city itself. If this attack last night is any indication, the main army of whatever archdemon we face will be here within days."
Guthwulf looked at Siggard for a moment. "I understand you were at Blackmarch, and that we will be fighting the same enemy. What did you see there?"
"We formed a shield wall on the highest ground we could find," Siggard reported. "None of us expected a demonic army, but we were able to hold our own for a while. There were creatures that seemed to be walking goats, bearing bows, axes, and clubs. The archers were very accurate, and every shaft found its mark. There were also some smaller monsters resembling dogs, carrying axes. They seemed to have some sort of missile weapons, and there were these shadowy things near the archdemon. I didn't see what they actually did."
"What were the numbers like?" Hagan asked.
Siggard shrugged. "We seemed to outnumber each charge fivefold, but there were far more coming. I would guess we were facing about five thousand, but I cannot be certain. I got caught in a crush when they broke through the shield wall, and I don't remember anything after that."
"How did they break through?" Tilgar said, leaning forward on the map table.
Siggard shook his head. "I just don't know. The line was solid, then the archdemon appeared, and suddenly these creatures were among us, killing every man they could."
"We Vizjerei call them ‘Hiddens, " Sarnakyle cut in. "We don't have a better name for them. They were at Viz-jun, though. They were probably within the ranks before the battle even began, waiting for the archdemon's signal. Bartuc used that tactic as well. Those creatures we fought last night were also a sort of Hidden."
Tilgar scratched his beard. "Could we be facing this ‘Bartuc' you mentioned?"
Sarnakyle shook his head. "The Warlord died two years ago at Viz-jun. I helped kill him, and I saw the body."
"So it is some other demon, using Bartuc's tactics," Hagan mused.
"Using his strategies," Sarnakyle corrected. "I do not know what this archdemon will do once the siege begins. The demonic forces are chaotic at best, and it would be very dangerous for us to assume anything. The only way the armies of Hell have ever been consistent has been in how they approach a walled town. They cut it off, then they attack."
"We'll need to prepare for a full siege," Tilgar stated, turning to his commanders. "Hagan, pull the catapults out from the armory and put a full guard on it. Also, put your men on alert; there may be more of these Hidden creatures to deal with. Guthwulf, I'll need some advance scouts to scour the land. Find out where this demonic army is, how many of them there are, and how long it will take for them to get here. Wulfgar, get the housecarls ready for battle, and prepare the tunnels underneath the town. We may have to evacuate the city if the worst comes to pass."
"There is one hope," Sarnakyle said. "The other demons are being kept here by the power of the archdemon. In order to exist on this plane, it will have had to possess a mortal body. If we can kill this baron of Hell, the other demons will be banished from this plane. Be wary, though; Siggard has told me that the archdemon is enchanted with a glyph of power, so it will be difficult to destroy at best."
"We will find a way," Tilgar promised. "The elder earl prided himself in his ability to keep his people from harm, and I am my father's son. If this archdemon attacks the walls of Brennor, it will die here."
The wizard smiled. "That is all one could ask."
Tilgar nodded. "I will have Hunfrith find rooms for you in the castle. With your experience, Sarnakyle, I feel it would be good to have you close by."
Sarnakyle shook his head. "With all due respect, your lordship, we already have suitable accommodations. The comradery of the inn will be good for both of us, I think."
Tilgar shook the hands of both Siggard and Sarnakyle. "Very well, then. You two should go and rest. Inform Hunfrith of where you are staying, and any news will be sent to you."
Siggard and Sarnakyle nodded, bowed, and allowed themselves to be shown out.
* * *
The waiting proved to be much worse than the fighting had been. They stood on the town wall and watched as the mounted scouts left the city, breaking off in several directions to search for the demonic army. And then the hours began to pass, the sun set, and Siggard was left tossing and turning in his bed, longing for the touch of his sweet Emilye.
He spent the next morning tending to Guthbreoht, whose song had become soothing and gentle. After the sword was oiled to a mirror polish, he sheathed it and walked downstairs to the inn's common room to wait for news. No word came that day, although several bards sang epics of the hero Arkaine, who had won some great victory in the east against demonic forces.
The mood of the town had changed overnight. Where before the inn's common room had been filled with life and laughter, now everybody was grim, waiting for the battle they knew would come. When Siggard watched Brennor come to life the next morning, after another nearly sleepless night, the denizens seemed to go through their daily business as though it was just a routine and nothing more.
He oiled his sword once again, went downstairs, listened to more epics, and waited for news. And, as another night fell, still no word came, and he was almost sick of hearing tales about Arkaine slaughtering demons with superhuman strength.
Sarnakyle was not much help. The wizard spent most of his time in the room, reading some old books he had stored in his pack. When Siggard had asked him what they were, he had been told they were spellbooks. The answer had been curt, though, unlike Sarnakyle's usually kind demeanor.
That night he dreamed of Emilye, but her face was ancient and decaying, and no matter how hard he tried to hold on to her, she slipped from his grasp and turned to dust. He awoke in tears, the pain of her death fresh once more, and silently wept for almost an hour before the sun rose.
That morning, after he had oiled his sword and gone down into the common room for a bite to eat, the innkeeper handed him a message.
"Just came in for you, sir," the innkeeper said. "Has Earl Tilgar's personal seal, it does."
Siggard handed the man a silver coin and opened the paper. He read it quickly, the elegant script suddenly reminding him of Emilye's gentle reading lessons, and felt absolute dread curl around in his stomach. He rushed upstairs, and threw open the door to their room, startling Sarnakyle, who was carefully going over a passage in his codex.
"Read this," Siggard said, handing the parchment to the wizard. Sarnakyle's eyes widened when he looked at the page.
"Army will arrive within a day from the east," he read aloud. "The demons number between three and four thousand. All nearby villages are destroyed, and all roads are blocked. We are completely isolated."
Siggard shook his head. "If we are truly cut off, then if the town is evacuated, there will be nowhere for the people to go. The demons will destroy them at will."
"I have not seen a situation this bad since Viz-jun," Sarnakyle stated. "We
must prepare ourselves. Tomorrow, darkness falls upon Brennor."
9
REVELATIONS
To fight the battle is easy.
To wait for it to begin is terrifying.
— Godfrey of Westmarch, Quotations
Siggard stood on the eastern town wall, watching the horizon for any sign of the demonic force. He fingered the leather-bound hilt of his sword nervously as he waited, his gut churning in impatience and fear.
Unbidden, his mind turned back to the horrifying carnage of Blackmarch. The archdemon stood clear in his mind, and he knew he would recognize it immediately when it came. Somehow, despite Guthbreoht's soothing song echoing in his ears, the thought of fighting the archdemon brought a shrill terror. Still, he thought, there was vengeance, and his heart hardened.
He heard soft footfalls behind him, and he turned to see Sarnakyle approaching. The wizard held one of his books, which he set down on the parapet.
"I thought you were in the inn studying your magic," Siggard said.
Sarnakyle shrugged. "I decided to get some fresh air. Besides, I couldn't stand to wait in the inn any longer."
"You wouldn't have missed anything," Siggard pointed out. "Tilgar has messengers waiting to find us as soon as anything appears."
Sarnakyle smiled and looked to the west, where the sun hung low in the sky, casting a shadow over the town. "And I suppose you just came out here for a brief midday stroll?"
Siggard grimaced. "Something like that."
"The warning is only a few hours old," Sarnakyle said. "To be honest, I think this demon will appear sometime in the morning. It does have a large army to march here, you know."
"Doesn't make the waiting any easier."
Sarnakyle nodded. "I know what you mean."
The wizard leaned on the rough stone wall, looking out to the darkening horizon. "If Tilgar is smart, and I believe he is, his catapults will strike the demons as they come close to the town, forcing them to camp far away."
"What good would that do?"
"It would give us some space," Sarnakyle explained. "The farther away they have to camp, the less likely it will be that they can completely surround us. And we can use any advantage we can get."
"We have your magic," Siggard pointed out.
"Yes, well," Sarnakyle muttered. "We do indeed."
"Here they come!" the lookout called. A horn blast sounded, and commanders barked orders to their soldiers.
He looked out over the parapet, squinting as he peered towards the horizon. Tiny shapes began to appear in the distance, bearing strange banners.
Siggard drew his sword, felt the blade's song infuse him with strength. He tried to make out the device on the banners, but they were too far away. He looked at Sarnakyle, who was leaning forward as well, lost in concentration. Beside them were several soldiers, weapons at the ready.
The wall was filling with men-at-arms.
"Archers!" one of the commanders called. "Wait for my signal!"
Siggard looked back at the boiling horizon. The demonic army literally filled the landscape, overwhelming the hills and fields outside the town. Finally one of the banners became visible, a horrifying depiction of a flayed corpse against a black moon, mounted under a human skull. Siggard's gorge rose, and he fought back a dizzying nausea.
"No," Sarnakyle cursed. "Anybody but him!"
"What is it?" Siggard asked. "Who do we fight?"
"Assur," Sarnakyle hissed. "The favored baron of the Lord of Terror."
Siggard jumped as a catapult loosed a ranging shot, the load flying overhead only to fall short of the approaching horde. Still onward they came, creatures of all sizes, and in their center, surrounded by shadowy things that could only come from a horrible nightmare, stood the giant archdemon.
"That can't be three thousand," Siggard muttered. "Maybe five, or six, but not three."
"He's brought help."
Another rock was loosed, the boulder falling into the demonic ranks, and a barrage followed. Several monsters fell, but the horde continued to advance, relentless as a force of nature. Each gap in the line the catapults made was immediately filled as more demons entered the crush.
"We have to warn Tilgar," Sarnakyle said, turning from the wall. "We have to evacuate the town."
"What is wrong?" Siggard demanded. "What is so special about this ‘Assur'?"
Sarnakyle turned, and Siggard recoiled. The wizard's face was ashen, his eyes wild with fear. "There is no way we can possibly slay this archdemon," Sarnakyle said with absolute certainty, picking up his book from the parapet. "The battle is already lost."
* * *
They passed towards the castle, pushing past entire bands of soldiers heading to the eastern walls. No matter where they walked, they could hear the thudding of the catapults lofting rocks.
Finally they arrived, winding their way through several groups of guardsmen. Siggard tried asking many of them where Earl Tilgar could be found, but none seemed to know, telling him to ask somebody else. Siggard growled in frustration, but there was little he could do; the confusion was too great.
Eventually, they came across Hunfrith directing some soldiers to the castle walls. Sarnakyle tapped the steward on the shoulder, and the man turned abruptly.
"This had better be important," Hunfrith snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a siege."
"We have to speak with Earl Tilgar immediately," Sarnakyle demanded. "This is a matter of life and death."
"He's in the war room," Hunfrith said. "You'll have to find your own way there. I'm too busy to guide you."
Sarnakyle nodded. "I remember the way." Spinning on his heel, the wizard strode into the castle, Siggard struggling to keep up. With almost unnatural deftness, Sarnakyle picked a path through the crowds of soldiers and guardsmen, calling for space to move.
The gatehouse opened into a courtyard bustling with activity. Several soldiers were repairing a catapult, and archers were rushing to the walls. Sarnakyle ignored it all, and Siggard found himself running to catch up to the wizard after taking a quick glance around.
Without ceremony they entered the keep, Sarnakyle winding his way through the maze of corridors, Siggard close behind him. Finally, they reached the war room to find Earl Tilgar pouring over maps with his three commanders and one other figure.
"Our scouts have managed to destroy their catapults," one soldier said, pointing at a map. "So we have at least one advantage."
Siggard's eyes widened as he recognized the tall, gray-cloaked man with sandy-blond hair who rose from the table to greet him.
"Greetings, Siggard," he said. "I am pleased that you found your way out of the forest."
"Tyrael," Siggard breathed, remembering the man who had shared his fire. "I had thought you a ghost."
Tyrael smiled. "I am happy to say that I am no restless spirit."
Tilgar looked over at Siggard in surprise. "You know the Archangel Tyrael?"
Siggard raised an eyebrow. "Archangel? You didn't tell me you were an angel."
"You didn't ask."
"Lord Tyrael, it is good to see you again," Sarnakyle said, bowing. "Unfortunately, I have grim news. The archdemon we fight is Assur."
Tyrael nodded. "I know. It will be a difficult fight."
"Did everybody know Tyrael was an archangel but me?" Siggard wondered out loud, but nobody answered him.
"If you are here, Tyrael, does that mean that the Lords of Heaven will intervene?" Sarnakyle asked. "I fear that is our only hope."
Tyrael shook his head sadly. "It is very difficult for the most powerful of us to appear on the mortal plane. Even I cannot manifest myself for more than a night at a time. I can offer advice, but nothing else."
"Then we are already lost," Sarnakyle said, turning to Tilgar. "We must evacuate the town, your lordship."
Tilgar shook his head. "I do not understand. What is so special about this ‘Assur'? From what I can see, even with his current numbers, we still have equal
forces and the town walls to protect us."
"He is enchanted by a glyph that can only be cast once every millennium," Sarnakyle said. "He cannot be slain by any hands alive, be they mortal or angelic. No weapon we have could touch him."
"How could you possibly know this?" Tilgar demanded. "How can you be certain?"
"I am one of the Lords of the Vizjerei," Sarnakyle explained. "For decades I studied the summoning of spirits and demons, and came to lead many of my clan in the council. The demons do not give information easily, and often it is enveloped in lies, but recently we have learned the names of most of the barons of Hell. Their lords, the lesser and Prime Evils, we know only by title. Of all of the barons, Assur is the most feared. We know little about him, save that he is the favored of the Lord of Terror, and that he is enchanted with the Glyph of Invincibility."
"You can summon demons, correct?" Wulfgar asked. "Then can you summon monsters of your own to fight them?"
Sarnakyle shook his head. "My magic is not what it once was. When Bartuc, the Warlord of Blood, attacked the city of Viz-jun, we Vizjerei led the smaller clans into battle, believing that the demons we could summon, combined with the elemental magic of the lesser clans, would easily destroy the army of Bartuc.
"For centuries, we had summoned the creatures with ease, thinking that we could control them. At the siege, we discovered that for all these centuries we had been misled. The demons we summoned turned on us, savaging our own lines. When we attempted to banish them, we could not. If it had not been for the lesser clans, the city would have fallen on the first day. We had ten times the numbers of Bartuc's army, and a third of us died in the siege, most lost not because of the forces of the Warlord, but because of our own summonings.
"After the siege, we of the Vizjerei were shattered. Most of the clan lords, such as I, began to wander, trying to rediscover what was real. I have spent the last two years relearning the elemental magic that saved us, but I am not nearly as powerful as I once thought myself. We cannot fight Assur with demons."
Diablo: Demonsbane (diablo) Page 6