Tyler sat down. He was really, really tired. And his conscience bothered him. He may have been as brutal as he could be.
CHAPTER LORE:
Fascine – A bundle of wood or other material used to cover gaps and ditches.
Forad – Old Norse. Meaning “monster.”
CHAPTER XIV
Cry Havoc!
He sat for a while, trying to get a grip on himself. His staff was on the ground beside him. He looked at his hands. They were trembling badly. His leg muscles were shaking. With the immediate danger over, the enormity of what he had done slowly sank into him.
Killed dokkalfr with magical blades, burned a host of jotnar and dokkalfr without mercy, turned giants into exploding chunks of flesh.
It was surreal. But those acts will pale in comparison to what he was expected to do next. Turn an entire battlefield into a meat grinder.
As if I know how to do that. Even if I find the nerve to do it.
He cast a quick healing spell on himself to ward off the exhaustion. He didn’t want to add it to his concerns. He closed his eyes for a while and took several deep breaths, desperately trying to calm himself. It cleared his mind but not his conscience. He stood up and called out for Jorund and Habrok. He hoped they could hear him so he won’t need to go down the trail. He didn’t have the courage yet to gaze upon his gruesome handiwork up close. Shortly, the two came up the trail. He noticed they brought their makeshift shields with them. Some arrows were stuck in them. He hurried to them to give instructions.
“Jorund, block the trail. We will make our stand here if anything tries to attack again. When you finish, watch my back as I will be upon the ledge. I don’t want flying whatever attacking me from behind. But keep your bow with you. Take cover and try to kill anything that comes near. You get to guard our back and watch the trail. Any swords on that gear we got, plant them on the clearing, point up. Better they serve some purpose. Habrok, when I get to a position on the ledge, cover me with one of your tarps and some small branches. Try to improve the ledge cover and protection if you can. When finished, stay at my leftmost side. Among those trees. Try to guard me against attacks. There are ice drakes out there. MOVE!”
Jorund moved back to the trail. Habrok went with him to the ledge. While crouching, the ranger pointed out the best position for Tyler and went back to the cabin to get the tarp. Tyler asked for Habrok to bring him some food and a waterskin too. He crawled to the recommended vantage point. He could see the host nearer now. If it wasn’t for the fact that he knew the deadliness of the situation, he would have enjoyed the view. It reminded him of that early fantasy video game. The one in which the player amasses an army of mythological creatures like those marching in the Gap. But rendered pixels had nothing on the reality before his eyes. He kept looking at the formations, trying to decide on a course of action.
Habrok draped the tarp over him and covered it with branches and other foliage. The food and water were placed beside him. He had a good position behind some boulders. As Habrok left to check the ledge defenses, something odd struck Tyler. The man has not said anything to jinx us so far! That’s good! Unless… he’s a walking jinx. Oh God, I hope not! I have enough on my plate. Though he had to admit, it has gone well so far.
But despite his preparations and instructions to his companions, he still hasn't resolved himself to what he was going to do. The move against the host may easily lead to their deaths in this isolated clearing. But before anything else, he had to settle the conflict between what he had to do and what his conscience recoiled from. But the images of a ravaged and burning Scarburg, with its dead piled in heaps, and the human heads on jotnar and dokkalfr spears, strengthened his resolve. Finally, the thought of a frozen Skaney with its humanity slaughtered or enslaved decided the matter in his mind. He didn’t doubt that would be the ghastly fruit of a jotnar victory. That genocide he was sure he didn't want on his conscience.
The enemy was now fast approaching the edge of the field of obstacles. After a short while, he could see the rocks and flaming debris from Scarburg’s catapults flying through the air. As they burst and impacted among the enemy, with beasts either squashed or burning, he saw the first group start their assault. Some of the ice drakes accompanied them.
Looking over the result of the first catapult attack, he was disappointed that casualties were few. But he saw an opportunity. He hoped the catapults of Scarburg can continue their bombardment as long as they could. He would have to time the use of his fireballs with the impact of their projectiles. But considering the distance, he would have to test how many fireballs he can ignite simultaneously. He was not worried about the first attackers, they were intended to soak up damage from the obstacle field.
Roughly estimating that thirty seconds had elapsed from the first volley, he counted the time up to the second volley, trying to determine the rate of fire of the defenders. Seeing the volley in the air, two shots a minute was his approximation. The dokkalfr were now coming up and he noticed that they have loosened the gaps between their ranks.
Quickly evaluating the impact points of the catapult projectiles, he considered that exploding fireballs a bit further up the ranks of the dark elves wouldn’t raise any suspicions. He focused on five points of the incoming ranks, prioritizing mages whenever he spotted them. When the missiles landed, he also ignited the fireballs. His fiery explosions did some damage but their area of effect was more like grenades instead of the blasts he expected. Casualties appeared to be limited to a radius of six feet, with only those in the blast zone immediately affected. Unfortunately, even some of those looked able to withstand the blasts, standing up again after some time. Damn, must be magical barriers or magical armor.
He resolved to focus on three fireballs instead, hoping the damage will be greater but decided to try for a fast second volley. He did have to admire the dokkalfr. They continued moving in disciplined ranks, still at marching speed. The third volley was launched and crashed among the dokkalfr, infantry and archers alike. He timed his first trio of fireballs to just before the catapult projectiles hit and the second trio a few seconds after. The results were definitely better.
The fiery blossoms had a wider area of effect and exploded with a lot more force, spewing magical fire all over dokkalfr some distance away. It looked as if magical shields and magically protected armor were not enough to protect against his new concoction. Bodies were savagely torn apart. In some instances, disintegrated with no humanoid debris raining on their fellows. But blood was spraying everywhere. It was a dreadful sight to see remains raining over the area, with a bloody mist here and there. It looked like a charnel house on overdrive.
This is the part which war movies back home do not show, thought the shocked Tyler. It was a morbidly fascinating scene. Horrific yet riveting.
He then realized he was parched. He took a drink from the waterskin and stuffed some food into his mouth. He couldn’t even taste what he was eating. It was a reflex movement on his part. The enormous stress of the situation had absorbed his attention on what they were doing. Their lives were on the line and he felt deeply responsible for the lives of Jorund and Habrok. Those men had entrusted their lives to them. With their oath, even their souls.
Unfortunately, his enhanced eyesight gave him horrible glimpses of the blood and gore the fireballs gave birth to. Whole companies were laid low by the detonations and though some dokkalfr did get back up, a lot more didn’t. Those who didn’t die immediately were crawling away from the blast site. Some of ice giants and trolls were already casualties. The ice giants and the trolls proved particularly vulnerable to the fireballs. For some reason, the magical flames stuck to them. Those who were burning went mad, running over dokkalfr or striking out against them. In some parts of the chaos, dokkalfr were fighting them. Burning fascines and wrecked mantlets were everywhere. It was not yet Hell but nearly there.
Yet most of the dokkalfr marched on, disregarding the damage inflicted on them. He knew the fourth volley would
be his last opportunity to coincide his attack on the dokkalfr with that of the catapults. It was obvious that the catapults were operating at a fixed range, a determined area beyond the obstacle field being its killing zone. None of his other spells will long escape detection if he starts using them so he stuck with the basic spell of fire.
He could also already see the next group of attackers, the ogres, and following them, more jotnar. All he can do now is to try to conceal his attacks as though coming from Scarburg. He was mindful of the second host following the one now attacking. But he was hopeful that he had reduced the numbers enough to enable Scarburg to resist this first attack. As a bonus, a lot of mages have already been eliminated and the mantlets available to the enemy also have been greatly reduced. He trusted that Scarburg’s archers will make the most of the opportunity.
The fourth volley arrived. Tyler followed the same tactic but with a third trio of fireballs for good measure, hoping it won’t be noticed in the confusion. He gambled that any observing dokkalfr will see it as projectiles from a late catapult. But with the gory bedlam before him, he doubted any of them would have the time to watch and observe. Most of the fireballs now centered around ice giants, trolls, and mages. He deemed them as the most dangerous elements of the group in front of him. Again, the detonating fireballs wreaked havoc among the dokkalfr. Even if focused on the giants, trolls, and mages, the resulting explosions decimated nearby formations. The deadly red and yellow blossoms again sent body parts flying in all directions with pieces of weapons and armor acting like shrapnel. The bloody and chaotic scene before him started to have an abstract quality to it. Mostly red in color.
But Tyler could only see what was in front of him. He couldn’t assess the progress of the enemies attacking Scarburg. Even though bloodied, the first ranks of the dokkalfr had already joined the attack and were beyond his sight. But he assessed the casualties he inflicted to be around twenty percent of the enemy host, primarily due to the packed formations being attacked by him at a closer distance than the catapults. With many of them wounded and with less protection from arrows, he doubted that they would be able to breach the walls after passing through the lethal gauntlet of the obstacle field. Even the dokkalfr formations were in disarray, each company, or what’s left of it, rushing to the attack in no discernible order. Then the ogres arrived.
From what he had observed, the ogres were a sturdy foe though vulnerable to his lightning strikes. But he couldn’t use that spell now as it would attract attention to his sniping. He hoped his gifts of fire would do as well. But the ogre leader gave him a present. As they reached the area in front of Tyler, they stopped and began to dress their ranks. The group collecting stragglers and organizing themselves before pushing forward.
Either the ogre leader is stupidly emulating human and dokkalfr formations or confident enough of withstanding the catapult bombardment with few losses, he mused while waiting for the next volley to arrive.
When it hit, he again followed the same tactic but avoided the third fireball barrage to avoid detection. Instead, he focused on increasing the explosive force of the detonating balls of fire. The blasts again rocked the field, adding to the increasing din arising from the attackers and the defenders of Scarburg.
His bombardment did inflict casualties but not as many as with the dokkalfr. Many of those who fell down when the blasts started were able to get up. Shit! Must be too dumb to die, he cursed. He misjudged the contributing effect of shrapnel on the smaller dokkalfr compared to the ogres.
The bright side of the situation was that many fascines were burning and the wooden planks some ogres carried were broken or left on the ground. After that volley, the ogres joined the assault. He couldn’t cast yet as the volley from Scarburg hasn’t been fired. But he didn’t give them much chance of breaching the walls. Spears and halberds will keep them at bay. If the total attacking force can be reduced to three to two thousand by the time they reach the walls, there was no way they could take them when defended by two thousand men.
The final group of attackers, made up of jotnar, started rushing forward even before entering the killing zone of the catapults. Which he thought was a good idea on the part of the jotnar commander. But he still continued with his bombardment under cover of the catapult’s fire. But this time, he reverted back to the five grenade-sized fiery explosions in two volleys, considering that the running jotnar were in a scattered formation. He didn’t reduce their numbers as much as he wanted to. It was difficult to target them as many were of the beast kind. He figured the defenders could take care of them. He was more interested now in the wagons carrying fascines and wicker mantlets as well as the catapults following them. But they were so slow in reaching his range. Yet he knew destroying them was a must.
Then suddenly, Habrok was at his side.
“My lord, Jorund reports enemies coming through the destroyed forest area. He estimates them at another two hundred. Mixed force. Jotnar, dokkalfr, and giants. With mages and lots of archers too.”
Now the shit really has hit the fan! Those ogres finally got to report back. Funny, I was hoping they would never stop running. Well, no rest for the wicked as they say.
He quickly crept backward out of the tarp. Crouching, the two went to the closest lookout point. Tyler could see the enemy streaming through the destroyed forest. They have not yet reached the area edging the staked clearing. But the bulk was already moving towards it and a sizable number was straggling.
The two bowmen have not yet fired any volleys, waiting for his order though some enemy had already reached the extreme range of the bows. Good, he thought as he wanted to see first how the enemy would try to take the position below them. In a few moments, the enemy archers let loose their arrows, directing them towards the low cliff and its barricades. He observed that the archers were spread out among the attackers, letting loose at their will. Then fire blasts started erupting in the cliff area together with ice spells which sent out sharp shards upon exploding. Even the enemy mages were spread out. Quickly, he whispered to Habrok for him and Jorund to concentrate their fire on those in the front of the attacking mass and to fire after he had released his spell. Surprise will be with them for their initial defensive measures.
Covered by the rocks bordering the clearing, he let loose a rain of fire encased in thin orbs. His trajectory calculations made on the fly. He just needed to adjust his angle after seeing where they hit. The multitude of projectiles he released were the size of baseballs. But considering the closeness of the enemy, he found it easier to infuse them with a larger density of energy. After release, he quickly peered at the burned forest. The balls impacted at the back of the most of the enemy, catching the incoming stragglers. The visual effect was like a ground fireworks display. Explosions followed one after the other, sometimes in close proximity. A miniature version of the bombing runs of warplanes he saw on YouTube. Exploding as they hit, it was a cascade of scorching death. The resulting smoke and debris made it difficult for him to see the effect on the targets.
But he didn’t wait to see the gory mess, he immediately took a few steps back, minding the position and angle of the release for the next volley. He released another hail of fireballs, this time reducing the number but increasing the size with a slightly wider dispersion. After that volley, he fired off another fiery shower. He went to peek again at the field. The first fusillade had already landed and was in the process of exploding. Same with the preliminary grenade-sized explosions, at first he couldn’t observe how effective they were. The ground debris, the explosions and the flash of the blasts made sure of that. But he could see that the target zone was engulfed in the deadly hail. Then the second volley hit. The first explosions had barely died down when the next rain of fire started detonating.
Quickly turning to see what his two companions were doing while waiting for the detonations to subside, he could see them working their bows at a furious pace, one or two empty quivers already lying on the ground beside each archer. But
the donation of arrows by the dokkalfr was generous, he could still see some full quivers laid up and distributed among the covering rocks. As he had instructed, each archer shot one or two arrows then moved to another location. The attackers still had not been able to respond to the revealed location of the defenders. Meanwhile, the clearing below was filling up with downed shapes. Yet no enemy had climbed up the low cliff.
Looking back at the forest, he found it difficult to see through the smoke and the dust swirling through the impact zone. Then he launched an area of effect attack with the BLADES! spell for good measure. He spread the small arrow-head projectiles in a dispersed formation as a lethal rain of transparent projectiles. He repeated the spell, moving the targeted area further out. Then suddenly, fire and ice blasts started exploding against the rocks bordering their clearing. Some mages had survived the deadly rain. As he focused his eyesight, he could see the tell-tale aftermath of the generated spells. This one may have to be done the hard way, he thought as he released a strengthened lightning bolt at each place where he detected the cast spells. After casting three of the suppressing spells, a fireball hit the top of the boulder where Habrok was taking cover. The man flew back a few feet, landing on his back.
The Accidental Archmage: Book One - Ragnarok Rising (MOBI EDITION) Page 30
