by Matt Rogers
Chapter 3: Rock Toss
The Siege (Castle Nirvana)
The catwalk atop Castle Nirvana was manned by the elite archers of the realm and guarded accordingly. Outside the walls the forces of Blight were under constant threat of attack by those who stood upon the ramparts. It would’ve been a complete route by the defenders if not for one small detail; the opposing army contained more creatures than they had arrowheads. So many more, if the archers let loose and dealt a killing blow with every shaft they would still face ten to one odds when the hand-to-hand fighting took place. It was that knowledge which held their bows in check.
“Hawkeye!”
“Yes, General Shield?”
Hawkeye Birdsview was a scout in normal times. He could track any animal or creature through terrain others would be blind in. He was an Original Inhabitant of Nirvana and held a deep hatred for those who would attempt to mess with Mother Nature. He turned from his observation-post atop the castle wall as the General scaled the ladder to greet him.
“How goes everything?”
Hawkeye thought long and hard over the question for it contained many intriguing variables. The siege had lasted well over a month and while the invaders could not advance their cause neither could the defenders. They did not have the resources necessary to deal a devastating blow to the forces of Blight.
“Surprisingly well, General, for I believe the enemy is about to attempt something wholeheartedly foolish.”
The General looked at the scout with interest. He’d used Hawkeye on many occasions and found the man to be of sturdy character and amazingly effective with bow. The Originals prided themselves on their ability to fire straight and with such rapid velocity the sky was known to turn dark as the shafts of arrows rained down upon those who would seek to claim Original land as their own. The fact they had not been challenged in such a long time attested to the truthfulness of the stories for even Prince Blight had opted to bypass Original Territory as he began his quest to end Mother Nature’s reign.
“Why do you think they’re going to attempt something?”
“Because, General, every time someone issues an order on their side the crowd gets in such a snit of insult they give it away by fighting amongst themselves before they ever got around to fighting us.”
General Shield moved to where Hawkeye stood and looked out over the crowd of creatures. Every time he did so he worried if his forces could last long enough for help to arrive. What he saw was both discouraging and encouraging. The army of Blight completely ringed the fortress. In front, nearest the castle’s walls were Ogres; mindless brutes who were only happy when bashing things. It didn’t matter what the things were for they were too ignorant to care. Unfortunately, they were also ten feet in height and eight hundred pounds of bone-shattering muscle. They carried only clubs for they held neither the intelligence nor the patience to learn the ways of higher warfare. Again, it didn’t matter because to get struck by an Ogre, whether by club or without, was instantaneous death.
The second ring of attackers were Orcs. They were smarter than their Ogre neighbors and could manage a spear. They stood over eight feet tall and generally weighed four to five hundred pounds. They were also sadistically cruel. They were known to torment their victims for the pleasure of dong so and usually attacked in groups for while they could not count to three they could see the benefit of twenty steel-tipped shafts over one alone.
The third ring consisted of Trolls. A little smaller and lighter than Orcs they made up for it with the ability to coordinate attacks. Their higher intelligence allowed them to employ weapons such as battle axes and whips. They were efficient in their use and devious in their implementation. They held no regard for the life of others, were untrustworthy to even their own kind and known to change sides in the middle of battle if it furthered their interests.
The final ring of Blight’s forces consisted of two races; Humans and Elvin. Both were paid and found in various stages of loyalty, cunning, trustworthiness and cruelty. They held the exterior and were the commanders of Blights ramshackle army. They trusted no one for they themselves could not be trusted. They were mercenaries; hired to do a job and only the promise of gold held their interest.
The vast numbers of foes was the discouraging part, the makeup of their forces the encouraging. As he allowed his gaze to search further through the hoard he could see what Hawkeye mentioned. It started in the Troll ranks as pushing and shoving led to fist-fighting which led to bloodshed. With the smell of blood the Orcs became interested and began fighting also. It, of course, spread to the Ogres who began bashing with fanatical enthusiasm. Unfortunately, to the General’s thinking, it eventually subsided as the brain-numb beasts finally realized they were attacking the wrong creatures. When he saw the carts brought forward he realized what they were about to attempt.
“I wonder if the Ogres remember they tried this before?”
“I don’t believe Ogres remember their names, General.”
The sequence of events was an exact repeat of what occurred at the onset. At the very beginning of the siege catapults were employed. They were enormous flinging devices which hurled boulders at the castle. They were the preferred method of siege-attempting throughout the various kingdoms. They were also sitting ducks to the advanced warriors the kingdom of Nirvana employed. The problem was distance. The catapults were best when used to hurl large boulders at a structure and in order to do so were placed within range. When they were parked the defenders merely rode out in small groups and burned the things where they stood. They could do so because Blight’s creatures were absolutely no match for the Queen’s warriors. As long as they had a target which could be reached in a short period of time they would ride through Blight’s army like a sword through wastewater. After destroying the catapults they returned to the castle and, again, took up their stations. The only answer to Blight’s dilemma proved even more disastrous, not to the wooden scaffoldings but to the creatures he employed to surround the castle. In the carts brought forward were various sizes of large rocks. Not boulders, per se, but stones the size of tabletops and wagon-wheels. The thought was to have many catapults with smaller projectiles perform the function of larger ones. The Ogres became the catapults and the large rocks the boulders. The only problem was sieges had been employed for ages and defenses developed accordingly. On the top of the castle’s walls, where the defenders stood at their posts, were fortified overhangs. When a rock was thrown it would bounce off the reinforced roofing above the defenders’ heads and land safely in the yard below. It was the creature in the yard below which caused all the mayhem to the Prince’s forces.
Goliath was of the race of giants. He stood thirty feet high, ten feet wide and weighed fifteen hundred pounds. His race had been in Nirvana from the beginning. He could crush tree trunks with his bare hands, fight a dragon on land to a standstill and could’ve easily ruled over all if he had the desire. Fortunately for those who wished power for themselves he and his kind were pacifists by nature. They were vegetarians and openly avoided confrontations. To Blight’s dismay, Goliath had deemed an attack on Mother Nature’s castle as one he could not avoid. So when the large rocks were thrown by ten-foot Ogres and landed in a dirt courtyard, Goliath strolled out from under the sheltering he used for protection, picked up the stones and returned them to their original owners with, of course, a slightly differing trajectory resulting in a completely different outcome.
“Wow! That had to hurt.”
“Yep, he really left a mark.”
The mark he was talking about was the Troll goo left behind when a rock weighing two hundred pounds descended on an individual from a height of three hundred feet.
“Nice shot, Goliath!”
Goliath indicated he heard the compliment with a look of eye and nod of head but, the truth was, he loathed performing the deed. Giants were of a different breed. They were few in number and spent most of their lives in quiet contemplation. They were successful in their endeav
ors because they had no individual enemies, only groups of enemies. To attack a Giant alone was suicide. Their skin was so toughened most swords would break upon impact. Speed had been employed in a futile attempt to find their weakness. However, those who attempted the tactic of rapid assault with retreat soon found themselves dodging both rock and foot as the behemoth on land fought back. In fact, the only real enemies Giants had were Ogres. Ogres were just wise enough to know they stood no chance against a Giant alone but there were times when they found themselves in superior numbers. It was then Giants’ lives were at stake for even one so large as Goliath could be bested by a score of Ogres, especially if they wielded clubs.
“Hey, Goliath!”
“Yes, General?” his baritone voice boomed back.
“Can you toss one a little bit further to the left next time?”
“Yes.”
The result of which found the Prince’s army ten Orcs fewer. As before, the defenders of the castle cheered whenever one of Goliath’s stones squished an attacker which caused the Ogres to toss even more rocks because, when they heard the cheers, they believed the defenders were rooting them on. It took a command decision at the back of the lines to stop the Orcs from bringing carts to supply Ogres with the means of their own crushing.
“Aw, that’s too bad, they’re stopping the assault.”
“Yeah, but they really did a good job on themselves.”
The loss of Ogre, Orc and Troll life was of no significance to Prince Blight because they were easily replaced. The creatures were born to cause mayhem and since war was destruction they willingly took the places of their fallen brethren for the chance to crush, kill and maim.
“All right, I think we’ve got ourselves a lull in the fighting, I need you to do something for me, Hawkeye.”
“Sure, General, what is it?”
“Sneak behind enemy lines and discover the location of their command post.”
