by T J Marquis
The first Monstrosity came into range and swiped at Pierce. With this smaller variety, dodging was plausible, but they were also faster, so he had to be precise with his movements.
He laughed to think of a Monstrosity as small.
He vaulted over the thing's long arm, his sword flashing as he spun in the air. He only grazed the giant's arm, but the pain was great enough for it to flinch. Pierce completed his spin, landing firmly on his feet, and made for the giant's ankles. It tried to stomp on him, but Pierce easily jumped out of the shadow of its foot. With a vicious swing, he drew his blade clean through the giant's lower leg, spilling blood and molten bone. The leg's stump slid off of its severed ankle and the giant slipped onto its knees, still trying to get a grasp on Pierce.
He circled around to its back and leapt up. The wide ridges of its scarred flesh, and the way the skin was stretched taut over bone, made it easy to find foot and handholds to climb the thing. It tried to turn, but Pierce stuck its back with his blade to help him hold on. Every time the giant stopped to register pain, Pierce was able to gain ground, climbing.
He sensed something and turned.
A second Monstrosity was coming, and a third behind it. Pierce was getting his wish.
He kept climbing the thrashing giant, waiting for the right moment. The second one came closer. Pierce drew back his blue blade and plunged it into the giant, severing its spine. Immediately it buckled, unable to hold its own weight on hands and knees. Soon it would die. Pierce gauged the jump and fired a blast from his gauntlet.
Orange fire trailed behind him as he careened toward the second Monstrosity. It tried to smash him between its hands, but a second blast quickly shot Pierce up and forward. He crashed into the thing's collar bone and beheaded it with one fell swoop of the bone-melter. The head fell, mouth open, and suddenly Pierce heard the clamor of battle. He must have drifted out of Scythia's range.
He tried to focus on the screams and clashing metal so he wouldn't succumb to the unending drone of the obelisks.
The headless Monstrosity staggered forward several long steps before its body registered what had happened, and its legs buckled swiftly. Pierce took another leap of faith before he lost too much altitude, firing his gauntlet to maintain height. After all that silence, the gauntlet blast was deafening.
The third Monstrosity caught him against all odds, immediately trying to squeeze the life out of him, but it foolishly brought him close to its chest, and Pierce fired his final gauntlet blast directly at its chest.
Skin and ribs disappeared in an instant, bearing the brunt of the fiery assault, but there was heat and force enough to burn the giant's already black heart. Its blood boiled, the heart burst, and the hands released their death grip on Pierce. He had a moment of deja vu as he rode the dying giant's body to the ground.
The horrible music of the obelisks pounded into Pierce's ears. It was getting stronger. He looked up. Werewolves were descending upon him.
Scythia still loved watching Axebourne at work, even after all these years.
She'd crippled two Monstrosities, he'd slain one, and they were teaming up on a fourth together before they meant to end the first two.
There was one gem left in her right bracelet, blazing white as if begging to be used. It would give her five surges of speed before shattering. She activated it now, and felt the familiar rush fill her veins. She knew the grin that reached her face looked mad, but it was involuntary, a natural reaction to the quickening of her muscles. She dismounted her bloodhoof and dashed toward the fourth Monstrosity in a blur, laughing in glee at its attempts to smash or catch her. She leapt over its futile swipes like a dancer across a stage, eyes locking on her husband as he approached astride his raptorion. They met at the thing's feet, and she flung the end of her massive, spiked flail at one ankle, nearly driving the bone out the other side of its leg.
The giant may have screamed, but all was still silent.
Axebourne cut the achilles tendon on the other leg with a single chop of his halberd, mouth open in his war cry. His mount loped away as the Monstrosity came to its knees. He swung the raptorion back in, baiting the giant, and when it brought down a hand like a slab of stone to crush him, he caught the giant's palm on the tip of his weapon.
Axebourne vaulted off of the raptorion and planted his feet firmly on the ground, Reversing Force. The Monstrosity tried to pull its hand away, but it was as if the man weighed many thousands of pounds, and his piercing halberd would not relinquish its hold. When the giant's other hand came flying in to swat him, Scythia closed the distance in a dash and leapt onto the limb, smashing the thumb with her flail. It lifted its arm reflexively. She rode the momentum, and cruised up through the air.
Was this how Pierce felt when he used the gauntlet to fly? Exhilarating!
Lithely she landed on the Monstrosity's arm and dashed up it in an instant, leaping with the force of an additional dash toward the thing's eyes. It had been watching her progress but was far too slow to halt it. She produced a gem-bomb from her belt, and with great strength and the force of her dashes she plunged her hand into the Monstrosity's eye, leaving the bomb behind. The giant leaned back with a wail of agony, giving Scythia its body as a ramp to dash back to the ground.
Axebourne retracted his halberd and the giant's body convulsed as Scythia's bomb exploded in its skull, leaving little behind. The body crashed to the ground.
Scythia dropped the enchantment of silence ever so briefly, whistling for Nova, and the bloodhoof came shortly. She mounted up and regrouped with Axebourne. They shared a look of love and mutual respect.
Down the battle lines, Ess had slain three Monstrosities with typical ease. They hadn't fallen as simply to her liquid orbs as the obelisks had, but several dozen shots of each one straight through those giant bodies proved more than they could shake off.
Agrathor had blasted two apart with multiple strikes of his lightning, and was just then using his spear to put one out of its misery.
Pierce was fleeing a pack of a hundred werewolves.
"Pierce!" Scythia cried, but her voice made no sound. She pointed, and Axebourne turned his loving eyes away from her and toward the kid.
The Monstrosities were large, and strong, but slow, and few in number. A pack of werewolves would be a different fight altogether, and many of them would be wearing clothes or armor with enchantments. Anything could happen in a fight like that. They had to help him.
Axebourne had seen something, was trying to draw her attention to it. She followed his gaze to the battle lines beyond the werewolves.
The garrison troops had been cut off from them, overrun. There was no discernible order to the mob that she saw in the distance. Kash's gen-bourne banners flew deep into the defenders' lines. They were being routed.
Scythia turned her eyes back toward Pierce and said a prayer to the Blacksmith. They had to save the one they could save.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Routed
Growls, barks, snarling and panting followed Pierce as he rushed to get back in range of Scythia's amulet. Some of the sounds may have been words, but he wasn't familiar with the dialect of werewolves.
He couldn't help but steal glances at them. They were horrid things, yet enviable. Their bodies were lean and muscular in a casual way no human's could ever be. Men could work their bodies for hours on end, day after day, and never achieve such comfortable, confident strength and physique. Combined with their singular determination and focus on the hunt, any one of them would be a fearsome foe. Behind Pierce there were hundreds, and some of them were gaining on him.
The gnashing of a werewolf's teeth cut off abruptly as Pierce reentered the cone of silence. His ears popped. He glanced backward. The vast werewolf pack had halted as one, confused by the sudden loss of one of their primary senses. Those in the lead lifted their snouts, sniffing, the whole pack roared mutely, and their chase resumed. At least Pierce had gained some distance, temporarily.
He caught sight of th
e rest of Gorgonbane converging on him. Bless those people. Not one of them had failed to meet their Monstrosity quota. Pierce could see the hulking, lifeless bodies behind them. One of them had its head blown off. Who'd done that?
Axebourne waved frantically for Pierce's attention. He pointed at Pierce, then pointed upward. Fly?
I can't fly, he thought, blew out the gems.
He came within about ten yards of Axebourne, and the man had lifted one leg. He watched Pierce closely. He lifted a hand over his head and hesitated, then brought it down in a chopping motion as he stomped mightily on the ground. Pierce made a subconscious connection and leapt. He knew it must be an illusion, but he thought the ground beneath him rippled in a wave, travelling outward from Axebourne.
The werewolves either didn't see the ripple, or weren't concerned by it, but they didn't leap, and all their ranks were bowled over. Lupine bodies crashed into one another, fanged mouths yelped soundlessly. In their anger some of them slashed at each other with their claws.
Pierce fell in with his comrades.
Axebourne squared off against the werewolves as they righted themselves and began to approach again, more cautiously this time. This was more the kind of battle Gorgonbane had been expecting today.
Pierce swiftly scanned the city. He hadn't looked up in a while. Grondell was razed. The Everlasting Temple lay in ruins. There still seemed to be fighting going on where the garrison troops had been arrayed, but Pierce couldn't see Grondell's flag flying among them. Gorgonbane had failed. They fought now only to preserve their own lives.
On the bright side, that opened up a few options.
The tactic had been discussed before the battle, and now was the time to use it.
"So we've covered gate breach, wall breach, undermining. If we end up outnumbered," Scythia had said, "what's the plan then?"
"If Ess could multiply my strikes rather than amplify..." Agrathor posited.
Ess shook her head. "That Skill is a lending of power from me to you, I cannot alter the nature of your abilities."
"You can't just make more bolts?" Pierce asked. "Or do them faster?"
"Make more, do it faster," Agrathor mocked. "Why don't you just make that sword grow longer? Or have it melt brains instead of bone? We can test it on you."
Pierce laughed. Agrathor grinned.
Pierce said, "Okay then. The rest of us are only good for single targets. That leaves Ess. But you said you can't just blow up an entire army."
"I cannot," she affirmed. "Even if my telekinesis were more advanced, that would be too many all at once." She closed her eyes, white painted eyelids glimmering. "There is something, but I doubt you will find it palatable."
"What is it?" everyone asked.
"Something like... a bomb. Like one of Scythia's, but ethereal, and very costly."
"If it saves our lives, it could be worth it," Axebourne said.
"It would require someone's... body parts. Well, just one part really."
Everyone flinched. Pierce touched his chest absently. Would he be able to hand over a finger, or a toe, or more, to save his own life, and that of the group? He supposed in the moment he would do it with nary a second thought. But now, in premeditation... It seemed more than unpalatable.
Involuntarily, his eyes drifted over to Agrathor. Everyone else was looking at him too. He noticed.
"No, no no," he said, holding up skeletal hands and backing out of the group's huddle. "Just because I don't feel pain... No. That's not fair. These bones are all I've got left."
"True, Agrathor, it is not fair," said Scythia. "Our obvious thoughts do you a disservice. Do not think that we consider you merely a tool."
This seemed to pacify the man somewhat.
"But," Scythia continued, "in a life or death situation, when all other hope is lost, it would be easiest -"
"And quickest -" Axebourne added.
"- if you did it," Scythia finished.
There was a long silence that even Pierce dare not break. He had only begun to imagine what it must be like to be Agrathor. To ask the skeleton man to part with another portion of himself...
"Okay," Agrathor had said, casting his green eyes downward. "I'll do it."
The werewolves were bearing down on them. It was time for something drastic.
Pierce watched his comrades. Were they really going to do it?
Ess took a deep breath. She tapped her chest under one arm. That was the signal. Agrathor looked dejected, but he nodded and approached her. He reached under his armor, and with a grimace he snapped off one of his ribs. He gazed at it longingly, as if he was parting with an old friend. He even touched it to his teeth in what Pierce assumed was a skeleton's kiss. Then he handed it over to Ess and turned away.
Ess ferreted the rib up one of her sleeves. She did something with it under her robe. She closed her eyes for a moment, and Pierce relished the doll-like quality of her face. He slapped himself mentally.
You might die in moments, fool. Focus.
When she brought the rib back out, it glowed with a yellow fire that shifted and bent all around the bone. She kissed it, handed it to Axebourne.
He stared at it for a moment, heaved a sigh, drew back his hand and lobbed the bone out over the ranks of cautious werewolves.
Every one of the vicious things turned its head up to follow the high arc of the rib bone. Many leaped up into the air as if they could catch it in their vile jaws. Some came close. One werewolf in the rear of the pack finally succeeded, and as its teeth closed around the bone, the power was released.
There was no physical shockwave, but a shimmering cloud of yellow sparks bathed a huge portion of the battlefield in light and death. The werewolves' fur blackened and crumbled. As one they lifted their snouts to the sky in a soundless howl. Their skin burned away in patches like paper over a fire. Their fat and muscles, ligaments and tendons reduced into something black, like the pervading muck of the Underlands. All that remained was blood and bone, collapsing to the ground in perfect formation.
The wave of death reached the ranks of gen, who likewise melted, and the banners of Kash fell.
From what Pierce could see, only a handful of the garrison troops had survived the rout. They had been lined up on their knees for execution, and remained there, twitching in sobbing despair.
Only the enemy, though, had been harmed by Ess's bone bomb.
Not one of the invasion force had survived. The gates of Testadel had closed. The painreapers may have retreated, or they may have died too - Pierce hadn't seen. The gates remained shut tight, and there was apparently not a capable force left in the ruins of Grondell to assault them.
Everyone felt it through their feet when the deep drone of the obelisks stopped, and Scythia deactivated her Amulet of Silence.
"Ah! Finally," Pierce said.
"Missed the sound of your own voice, huh?" Agrathor teased.
Pierce smirked. "It's just so lonely when everything's quiet."
Indeed, all sound had returned to the space around Gorgonbane, and wails and sobbing echoed through the streets of what had been Grondell. When Pierce registered these sounds, he looked around and felt a heaviness settle on his heart. Nothing had gone according to plan. Not that anyone could have known what this day would hold.
Kash had won the day, despite his heavy losses. Was he shut behind the black walls of Testadel, or had he hidden himself elsewhere? Where would he strike next?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sev
Gorgonbane approached the city perimeter in trepidation. No one was eager to test their mettle against one of the mega-Monstrosities.
But Kash's enhanced giants were nowhere to be found. Pierce supposed they had crawled back to whatever pit they'd risen from. All along the rubble of the ramparts lay the cavities they had left behind, dark and gaping. But each did have a bottom. There seemed no plausible way the Monstrosities could have burrowed up from the Underlands.
He still didn't know where the Monstrositi
es came from in the first place, but he figured Kash wouldn't want to risk losing the most powerful siege machines Overland had ever seen. Pierce imagined the things were few in number, either slow to reproduce or hard to create.
All across the city, dust-covered people were wailing and sobbing, crying out to loved ones as they searched the rubble for survivors. Two and a half squads of the garrison troops had been spared - those that had been slated for execution when the bone-bomb went off. These had fallen into a loose formation behind Gorgonbane, most of them walking along in a daze. None of the city's officers had survived.
Many people who either had no one to search for, or who had simply forsaken hope, trudged away from the ruins of Grondell and into the hills beyond. Word would spread of the attack, and all of Overland would wait in fearful anticipation of the next incursion. At the least, people would know what kind of attack to expect, even if they might not have a clue how to defend against it. Pierce certainly couldn't think of anything, but if this went unchecked, all of Overland's major cities would be overthrown in short order.
Gorgonbane and its recruited infantry returned to the city center, resting in formation within view of Testadel. The mighty fortress revealed nothing of its internal workings, but it certainly seemed as if there would be no further moves made this day. It was dangerous to stay near, but Axebourne wanted to get a grip on the situation before having everyone move out. He wouldn't just lead the little army in some random direction.
"I want to watch the place for a bit," he said to the others. "See if it betrays anything useful. I know we'll get precious little sleep if we stay the night here, but if they make a move, I want to see it."
Everyone agreed, and they all hunkered down for a long vigil.
Pierce found himself wanting to talk about what had happened, but everyone else seemed morose, or at least withdrawn. He supposed it had been a long time since Gorgonbane had suffered defeat. It might be hard for even these legends to process such a loss, despite their long years of experience.
