Some Sort of Glitch

by Wade Adrian

  Max leapt a few steps back, ducking low.

  He clutched his crow skull, reaching out with his mind. It was simple to find a few dozen friendly minds, but he only needed one.

  The crow didn't argue, landing on the bridge for a moment, looking around at all the lights.

  A head appeared at the top of the tower, far above, lit by a torch. A small window in the door at the end of the bridge opened as well.

  The bird flitted about for a moment before taking to the sky, flapping away into the dark.

  The bridge quieted down, the lights dimming to their usual level.

  Max held his breath for a few tense moments before the man at the top of the wall disappeared, and the window on the door was shut.

  Fortunately the bridge was so bright it was difficult to see anything in the dark beside it. There was no further sound or movement from the walls, and no lights above that he could see.

  Well... so much for stealth. It had been a long shot anyway, but he had to try. Tom's plan was convoluted... but then, they all were.

  He shook his head as he dropped back into stealth as soon as he could. The plan might be silly, but he couldn't see any other way they were getting into this one.

  Bloody magic nonsense.

  Tom sat atop his horse as the sun began to rise, his mace on his shoulder. "Alright, line up."

  There were more than a few grumbles as twenty of his people formed up into a line, all of them dressed in rough wool robes. They looked pretty bad, sewn together by impatient people who had no idea what they were doing.

  Perfect.

  Perfect in every way.

  Einar had described most of the pilgrims as broke people that wore whatever they could get their hands on.

  They each had a wooden religious symbol hanging from their necks, and the one in front and in back had much larger wooden versions on sticks.

  He nodded as he looked over the group. "You look like poor, destitute, crazy people. You've got this down."

  There were a few short laughs and some chuckling.

  The different religion was laughable, of course. Simply the way of old cultures like this one. Another weapon in his arsenal.

  Not one voice had been raised in opposition to the plan. Most of them saw taking these last two forts as more important than the first two. At least the bandits were locals.

  Einar sat atop his own horse. "Right, so... how do we get their attention? I doubt they're always on the lookout for pilgrims, and I have no idea how pilgrims signal them."

  "You might have mentioned that earlier."

  Einar glared at Tom. "You only just now explained the plan."

  "Oh, hmm. That's right. My bad." Tom tugged on his beard. "Think it would be suspicious for them to show up on the bridge? Talren says it's got some sort of alarm."

  "To get that close without some sort of announcement? A bit suspicious, yes."

  "Suspicious enough to keep the defenders from rushing to help them against a few soldiers?"

  Einar shrugged. "Eh? No idea."

  Tom rolled his head around his shoulders.

  There was always something...

  The stupid alarm had been a surprise, too.

  Wait...

  He pointed at Max, seated on his own horse. "Can you set the alarm off again?"

  Max nodded. "Easily."

  "Drop a few birds on it, but have others nearby so they look... I dunno, convincing. When they check to see why that is going off, we'll make sure our pilgrims are close enough to see, but still a bit out. Hopefully further out than they would be to give any sort of signal. Outside earshot, maybe. Once they notice, we roll in. Should cover any inconsistencies."

  Max inclined his head. "On it."

  Tom lifted his mace, swinging it in a circle over his head. "Okay, new plan. Time to move out."

  Max was left alone after everyone else moved out. Tom needed all the scouts for this to work. All of them were "wolves." The least armored soldiers Tom could get were on the attack, a detail meant to make the decision to save the poor pilgrims easier on the defenders.

  Of course, the "rabbits" had plenty of armor, too. And weapons. Those robes were roomy. Granted, they had left behind their gloves, shoes, and helmets for appearances. He didn't envy them their cold feet. The trail had plenty of rocks, too.

  Then again, they were locals. They probably ran around like that for fun.

  He clutched the crow skull, his mind seeking birds.

  It didn't take any time at all to find them.

  The sheer number of them seemed to keep growing.

  Skip sat on his shoulder. The bird had found him on the march yesterday. It was nice to have him back, like an old friend.

  Granted, it might be a different bird... but only Skip seemed to be willing to get that close without being called.

  "Ready to have a look around?"

  Skip tilted his head. "Why?"

  Max shook his head and made a tsk noise. "Such insubordination. Hop to, soldier."

  He looked through the birds eyes as he lifted his hand, pointing. "Give me a circle around the place so I can see."

  Skip leapt into the sky, moving of his own accord.

  He was a lot better at it than Max. He ought to be, given the lifetime of experience.

  The view from above wasn't terribly helpful when it came to understanding the inside. The tower had a roof, the whole thing getting narrower as it climbed, a bit like a needle.

  He could see one guard on the top, but the man didn't seem overly concerned with anything. He was seated and poking at a fire built in a stone pit.

  Max pointed out places as Skip passed them, other birds taking wing and landing in specific locations. He wanted it to seem random... at least random enough that they didn't think twice.

  He only sent up one bird at a time. A cloud of birds fleeing a tree meant something startled them. Quite suspicious to defenders. At least those with a lick of sense.

  Max opened his own eyes, letting Skip do as he pleased.

  He turned to the southeast, where Tom was going to be setting up his little stage production.

  It looked like the parade of pilgrims was en route. Good.

  He wasn't entirely sure of the timing... it was mostly up to him. But the window probably needed to be as large as possible. That meant sooner was better.

  Max reached out for Skip again. It was simple to find him now. He barely had to think about it.

  The bird swooped down out of the sky, landing on the side of the bridge.

  Max could hear the soft alarm start up. Any change with the lights was harder to see with the sun rising.

  He had a few more birds land on the raised sides of the bridge, too, before having a pair of them land on the path itself.

  The peep door on the bridge opened, but that was no help. It was facing the away from Tom's people. He needed the guy up top to take notice...

  He had Skip hop back into the air, circling.

  The man was still up there, oblivious. Maybe the alarm wasn't loud enough.

  Skip landed atop the wall.

  The bird could definitely hear the alarm from below. It wasn't loud, but it was a distinct sound not found in nature.

  The guard was leaning on a spear, warming his hands over the fire. He was shivering and sniffling.

  Of all the things they failed to consider... a lazy guard on the inside was a real pain in the ass.

  Max turned his attention back to the other birds. One seated on the wall could see the gate and its peephole, which promptly shut.

  Damn it.

  Was professionalism dead? Granted, he was trying to be subtle about this, but he expected something more than being ignored.

  He released the bird, returning to his own eyes. The process was swift and simple now... but it was disorienting to do it repeatedly. If he didn't have the horse's saddle to hold onto he probably would have stumbled and fallen.

  No time for that.

  He reached out for Skip aga
in.

  The bird was still on top of the tower, watching the guard ignore his duties.

  Max was tempted to ride down there himself, stomp all along their silly little light bright bridge.

  But no, that would make the rest of the plan suspect to the guards.

  The lazy, lazy guards.

  Max pointed Skip at the sniffling layabout.

  "Get his attention."

  Skip tilted his head back and forth. "Hey, ugly!"

  It no doubt came out as a loud "Caw!" to everyone else, but it made Max chuckle.

  The man glanced up from his fire, waving away the bird. He said something but it didn't make any more sense to Max than it did to Skip.

  A soft sound caught the bird's attention. It hopped a few times, turning to look down over the wall.

  Tom had jumped the gun. His "rabbits" were running from his "wolves," soon to be fending them off.

  Damn it.

  Well, the time for subtlety was done. Max reached out to all the birds on the bridge, sending them up to join Skip.

  The guard huddled close to the little fire, oblivious to the gathering murder all around him.

  Skip let out a caw again, but this time he was joined by a chorus of other birds.

  The guard turned his head back and forth, his face awash with confusion.

  "Get him to the wall." Max muttered to himself, hand clutched around his crow skull.

  Skip leapt from the wall, dive bombing the man.

  He swept his arms through the air, dropping his spear onto the rooftop as he tried to keep the bird away.

  It didn't help much. The rest of the crows took wing as well, all of them sweeping and pecking.

  The man was decked out in foreign metal armor, probably part of why he was cold. The birds weren't causing any harm, but it was enough to upset just about anyone.

  He stood up, trying to back away from them.

  "Other side. Show him what you saw."

  The birds circled, pecking and clawing only from one side, herding the man to the wall where Skip had stood.

  He tried to deviate and make for a trap door, but Skip buried his talons into the back of the man's hand and cawed right in his face, getting him to back away again.

  The guard swept his hands about, seeing nothing but his own arms and black feathers until he found his way to the wall.

  He ducked into a ball, cowering against the stones.

  "Make yourselves scarce for a moment."

  The birds dissipated, all but Skip, who landed on the opposite side of the wall to watch.

  The man carefully lowered his arms before looking around. He made a few irritated gestures and said a few things Max no doubt didn't need translated. The man snatched up his spear with clearly irritated body language. He climbed back to his feet, dusted himself off, and pulled a few feathers out of his armor.

  His head turned slightly, looking this way and that until he turned and looked down over the wall.

  Tom's force of wolves was now harrowing the heels of the fleeing rabbits, the would be pilgrims holding their hastily made holy symbols high.

  The guard's eyes widened before he dropped the spear and ran to yank the trap door open. He vanished down the ladder, the door slamming shut behind him.

  "So hard to find good help these days."

  "Good help?" Skip flitted about the top of the tower.

  "Not you, Skip. You did great. You get a feast when we're done. Your friends too."

  "Me first! First me!"

  Max chuckled as he let go of the bird.

  He was leaning rather considerably in his saddle, only his grip on the horse and the stirrups keeping him in place. He took a second to fix that.

  A different alarm could be heard from the tower now. A gong of some sort being bashed all to hell.

  He backed his horse a bit deeper into the woods, careful to be in a patch of shadow.

  The gate at the end of the Mage's Bridge opened, the two wooden halves almost burst aside, the portcullis only slightly visible as sharp metal bits high above the door.

  Men and a few horses thundered out of the gate, only able to ride single file across the bridge. The soldiers all wore armor much like the guard's. Hell, he might be among them. The three horsemen were clearly giving orders, keeping the infantry in line.

  Three riders and twelve foot soldiers. An overwhelming force against Tom's handful of light cavalry. More than enough to defeat them handily, but everyone knew that so they would mostly likely just drive such agile units away... in theory.

  Tom's wolves did not relent in the least as they chased the pilgrims, some even swinging swords at those at the rear of the running rabbits.

  The foot soldiers charged, the horses behind.

  It was only a few moments later when the lines met, the pilgrims weaving into the foot soldiers, who looked past them to the light cavalry.

  A mistake, of course.

  Confusion set in for the defenders immediately as the force of pilgrims, which outnumbered the defenders, attacked them with the light cavalry.

  A pair of Caw's from the tower got Max's attention for a moment.

  Skip and a few other birds had settled on the bridge again, a convenient place to land.

  There was at least one shape still inside the gates, moving about near the entrance to the bridge.

  Shit.

  All of this would be wasted effort if even one man inside could shut the gate again. Sure, he might starve in there alone, but it would keep them out for days until they could bust in the gate and portcullis.

  He climbed down from his horse and dropped into stealth. It slowed him down a bit, but he didn't need anyone spotting the horse.

  That gate needed to stay open.

  He moved as fast as he could, reaching the bridge while the fight outside was still a mass of confusion.

  Well, confusion for one side.

  He knew he couldn't move over the bridge while stealthed, but... plenty of crows were sitting on the crenelation on the sides of the bridge.

  The stone defenses weren't terribly wide, but they were at shoulder height...

  He got a running start and leapt, his feet landing on top of the last raised stone merlon.

  His hidden status remained. Whatever broke it, it was on the bridge itself.

  Max could see a few shadowy forms moving inside as he approached as swiftly as he could while carefully picking his footing.

  He could send the crows in to harass them, but this wasn't like the guy up top. All it would take here was one lever and the portcullis would be down. Simple to do even with birds clawing your face.

  A guard stepped out of the gate and onto the bridge, turning to look at the fighting outside. The soft alarm sound rose from the bridge. He yelled something back into the gate.

  Well... sucked to be that guy.

  Max crept up behind, standing on the opposite wall to the one the guard was looking out over. He stood between two merlons, leaning out for a better look.

  "Nothing personal, friend." Max drew his estoc and dropped onto the bridge, bashing the guard in the back of the head. He crumpled onto the flat stones like a sack of potatoes.

  The alarm was already going, but Max hadn't been the one to set it off, so anyone inside would assume it was still the guard moving about... hopefully.

  He stepped around the gate, ducking past the space outlined on the floor for the portcullis as swiftly as he could. Of the possible ways to die, impaled by giant metal spikes on the bottom of a two ton gate wasn't near the top of his list.

  He didn't know how many were left inside, but he knew he was alone running in here like an idiot, so he called all the backup he could muster, his free hand clutching the crow skull around his neck.

  Black birds filed in through the gate behind him, a mess of feathers and beaks flying in around him, cawing and swirling about the base of the tower.

  Windows higher up let natural light in, despite the ceiling twenty feet above. This level had a
dirt floor with cook fires, and a clear stable on the far side.

  What it didn't have was defenders.

  Light and sound washed over him, a swirl of bright motion and a fanfare of horns.

  He had... leveled up? Tom must be doing well out there.

  Of course, NPCs probably didn't understand the effect.

  Well, level twenty three then. He'd mess with the numbers later. His character sheet was kind of a mess and he was busy.

  A handful of men and women in foreign clothes ran from him, hiding in the stables, or up the stairs to higher levels in the tower.

  Between the leveling effects and the birds, and the fact he was clearly a combatant and they were not... he didn't blame them.

  "Huh." He stopped beside a heavy looking lever next to a winch and a coiled chain. Probably had a bit to do with the portcullis. Seemed like the place to be. The gate was open, so he would make sure it stayed that way.

  Tom laughed as he turned his horse back to the fight, his mace bloody after he had unhorsed the last of their riders. Light swirled around him, the familiar horn fanfare was something he had missed.

  It had been days.

  Then again, none of this had really been a quest turn in, just combat experience. That, and he'd had a lot of people doing most of the fighting for him.

  On some level, this plan had sounded like a dumb idea but damned if it hadn't gone off like clockwork.

  He walked his horse towards the fancy armored man presently rolling on the ground, groaning.

  "Hey, if you're not dead, lets get on with this fight."

  The man held up his hands, a curved sword falling to the dirt. "I surrender."

  Tom sighed, shouldering his mace. "Of course you do. I already won."

  The man scrambled to his knees, where be bowed his head to Tom. "Please, spare my men. What are your terms?"

  Tom scoffed. "Can't we just fight?"

  The man turned, yelling at his people. "Drops your weapons! This battle is lost! We throw ourselves on the mercy of these warriors."

  Oh that dickhead. If Tom told his people to cut them down now, he'd look like an asshole, even to his own men. He didn't need morale issues with one more fort to take.

  Fuck.

  "Fine." He sighed and raised his voice. "Round up the living, take their gear and tie them up." He moved his horse closer and poked the commander with his mace. "You do anything stupid, I chuck everyone in the pit, starting with you."