He shouted to his men closest to him, making the cluster face east. His order was clear: shoot a volley at the Valkyrie. Their hesitance was swept away by the urgency in his voice, the men aiming and pulling uniformly. Alex trained on Vanapha again, determined to buy her time if nothing else and trusting her to adapt to his plan.
Vanapha was frantically trying to wave down one of the Rangers, seeing no escape from these menacing creatures on her own. They were closing. The first of them she simply shot in the head, allowing its body to roll limply from the rock. The next seven however were imminent and she was to be overwhelmed.
Her Sight alerted her of it first, and then she looked at the core infantry as a murderous flock of arrows ascended toward her. With great relief she vaulted backwards from the pinnacle top, sliding the bow over her body in one motion and catching the edge as she hung in the shelter of the shadow side.
She heard the swarm of whistling arrows coming in fast and how they struck the howling beasts right in their backs on the other side, their wounded bodies swept from the pinnacle by the volley. She saw some undesignated arrows flying right above her where she had stood but moments earlier. Her Sight warned her that one Reaver on the other side had not been hit and was still coming up.
Vanapha scrambled up again in a race, she and the creature clearing to the top at the same time. She anchored herself, tilted and straightened a kick right into the Reaver’s throat before it could gain momentum, getting a yelp out of it before sending it over the edge.
Her troubles weren’t over. The Reavers’ failure only allured more to the cause, the Priests evidently directing the animals to eliminate the one who could kill them if the opportunity surfaced. Now more than a dozen new Reavers were climbing, pursuing at each other heels, great black furred arms reaching up and up before slamming their claws into the rock face. Again Vanapha waved and this time one of the Rangers responded. Sedger abandoned his hassling of the Fallen for a bit, gaining height so that he could dive circling for the Valkyrie. He knew there wouldn’t be time to land.
Vanapha saw Sedger coming in even faster than the Reavers, the beasts’ ragged breathing loudening. Preparing herself, Vanapha took another Trisera arrow, spinning it while taking a deep breath for what she was about to do next. Notching the arrow onto the string she made the slightest run up and leapt completely clear of the perch. The Reavers turned their heads as their prey jumped over them, so very high up in the air. One of the confounded beasts bounded out after her, having peace with falling to its death.
Prepared for it Vanapha could only hope Sedger would arrive in time, her hypervigilance making everything seem slow. She turned her body in the air and took quick aim. She shot past her aerial pursuer and into the pinnacle.
This time the explosion rocked and shattered the pinnacle, the clinging Reavers dead instantly. Vanapha closed her eyes instinctively at the light, using her Sight from there on. She could feel the concussive force pushing her and the Reaver even further, keeping them airborne for another crucial two seconds.
The rock of the pinnacle split like glass, catching up with them. The darting rock pieces crushed the Reaver first and just when it should have rend through Vanapha’s body a curtain of a barrier threw itself into existence to halt the rocks with a smash. Vanapha opened her eyes and smiled as her legs and arms caught onto the speeding Volj, the sudden change of her body’s acceleration making her giddy.
‘You have my gratitude Ranger,’ said Vanapha as she held onto the man.
‘No worries, lets clean up, eh? I’m sure you’d like to get back at those Priests, they have been giving you a lot of attention after all.’
‘Yes, lets,’ said Vanapha, looking down at the core infantry, and silently thanking the man watching her back.
Alex breathed easier and felt his arm find a solid rhythm again as they volleyed. He had seen Vanapha making it safe, with the pinnacle exploding so fiercely that some of the smaller rocks rained down on the core infantry.
Alex had been sure he would see Vanapha die, falling to her death or crushed by the flying rocks. The Ranger’s magic came just in time and Vanapha’s superior senses allowed her to catch onto the Volj in mid-flight.
For a moment Alex wished so that it was he on that Volj catching the Valkyrie, but then he knew he played his part in saving her and being a soldier he understood that, especially now, they were all faceless cogs working together to get through this alive.
Seeing Vanapha caught by the Ranger, Elmira’s concern became wholly focused on Cid again.
She winced unconsciously each time Cid entered the fray, but she found the sight reach an insatiable side of her, experiencing an unexpected satisfaction at seeing the Fallen slain. Fighting as they were Lanston seemed favoured as the Fallen grew more exposed with every route, those Priests centred in the middle looking not so invincible anymore.
They were halfway through another route when Cid was suddenly snatched from his horse, a fallen soldier grabbing desperately and pulling him from his saddle. He disappeared in a mass of bodies, Cilverhoof cantering on riderless.
Elmira gasped, her panic making her heart throb in her stomach as well as her throat. Her eyes searched desperately for any sign of him.
Drissil had seen the event from the corner of his eye and had to adjust the charge, in the first instance not to trample their Commander and in the second to make a swift cutback to try and save him.
Some of the melee specialists went in blindly to the spot where Cid fell, putting themselves in harm’s way as they collided with the Fallen, hacking as though making their way through a dense forest of black armours.
Elmira saw an arrow hit a fallen enemy every few seconds exactly where Cid would be and she traced the fire back to the Valkyrie on the Volj, whose frantic demeanour gave Elmira hope; hope that Cid was still alive for the moment.
Drissil managed to clear a sizeable path with his cavalry, the concentrate of bodies diminished. Elmira saw a Lanston soldier hunched like he was trying to help someone up, then a second later a fallen plunged his sword in the man’s back.
Elmira felt herself growing faint, yet her entire focus remained on the chaos below. Tidings for worse only sought to bring nightmares alive again as Elmira by chance spotted an ashen figure wandering near a column of smoke, tearing himself from his broken black armour and searching the ground for his weapons, his rapid movements showing his rage. He should not have survived it…
Then Drissil voiced a retreat from the thick of things, commanding everyone to get from out the Fallen’s reach. Elmira could not believe what she was seeing.
They are abandoning Cid…
There wasn’t time for deliberation for Brunick, knowing from horrid experience how quickly these things could go wrong. He had seen Cid wrenched from horseback just like everyone else. From his safe distance away he started the charge on foot, roaring, peace with whether he would be helped or do it alone.
He’d like to think that he had no fear, but the sound of men following his charge bolstered his poise. It seemed utterly lunatic for a bare-chested axe man to stampede into heavily armed and armoured men.
But then the Stoneskin made him almost invincible and his axe, fists and elbows became flailing weapons, carving into the Fallen ranks. He lost his momentum in the weight of the enemy and then his aid came, heavy swords swinging from behind to help Brunick cut through.
This was another type of battle; the Lanston military was bred to be conservative, calculating and efficient. The melee specialists though existed exactly for situations like this, when desperate times called for feral fighting. The slaughter was up close and personal, Lanston’s finest warriors the overdue spectacle as fallen and soldiers were weighed man-to-man.
On Brunick’s part the frantic Lanston men were favoured, but they were here in this mess on their own cognizance and as such they weren’t fighting for mere survival; they were fighting to get their Commander back.
Brunick had a good
idea of where Cid had fell, and from the front he pushed their endeavour in that direction. He was like a shield then, fighting, but his body taking most of the hits, his fellows spared what he could endure. The swords and hatchets of the Fallen pinched, bruised and welted his arms and chest, but they seemed nothing more than blunt instruments to Brunick’s body.
From his peripheral Brunick saw the cavalry make a swift retreat. Brunick immediately shook the notion that Drissil was giving up on Cid. It was however growing dense and difficult, and if they didn’t get out soon Lanston’s entire survival would be sacrificed on Cid’s behalf.
His mind tricking him into what he wanted to see, he recognized his Colonel in a man running forward with Mindevhier. Yet the weapon of Ruin was overwhelming altogether and the Lanston soldier stumbled, struck dead instantly as he fell by a merciless Fallen's blade. Brunick grimaced, realizing the man had tried to recover the legendary spear, but could not handle it.
Veering a bit off course Brunick picked it up from the dead man’s clasp, broke it down and holstered Mindevhier with haste in his belt, knowing he would be the only man other than Cid who could carry the weapon. Even before he could holster the spear properly he felt the weapon kick at something in his mind, trying to ward Brunick. Strangely, even though the spear repulsed him, Brunick was sure he felt the Colonel’s mind in the weapon. He’s got to be close!
A few panic-stricken moments then-after left Brunick fearing for the worst.
Should have seen him by now… crushed under the Fallen if he didn’t come up on his own…
Enraged Brunick cleaved forward, sensing the men behind him were now favouring retreat, their safety jeopardized this far in. Brunick knew they couldn’t stay much longer. Then he saw it - the most important aspect; he was on his feet.
Just ahead a single man in gold armour was fighting his way out of a Fallen pocket. The man pivoted, his attention flicking insistently between his enemies all around, his savage display with the sabre keeping him alive. Cid was fighting so uncharacteristically furious that Brunick saw the shades of the Fallen spell in him again. Only this time he was fighting against the Fallen and Brunick joined the Colonel’s side, relishing the moment. In the clear for a moment Cid took the spear from Brunick without a word, and both men were stronger for it.
Now its Drissil’s turn…
Monitoring the cavalry Brunick issued as much space as he could with sweeping strokes, diverting as many of the stragglers to Cid who could deal with them more swiftly. Time was against them. In his peripheral he saw something tear through the Fallen from the greater body of the black march.
It was iDartés, coming with a growing pace, his chest and head still ash stained, his hatchets already clawing, carving a path through his own men.
It was clear he was approaching with a vengeance, his glare fixed on the two Lanston soldiers who had stopped him once before. Brunick wanted to warn Cid then, but the Colonel already left his side. Sweeping his gaze back to iDartés, he saw Cid front up to the giant. Blindly he charged in after the Colonel.
He wished to be the voice of reason, to wrench Cid back and leave the fight for better times. Even if he could, he understood the mind of the man he followed; being fiercely driven and urged by the promises he made to his men, promises he made to Elmira, to end a past that would haunt if left to survive. And so, even Brunick in his caution would stand with Cid.
Cid spun away from a Fallen troop, trusting Brunick to deal with him. The Mason did so, ending the man promptly as Cid lunged at iDartés. Those who knew iDartés were quickly reminded of his danger. Reversing his hatchets he used the shafts of the weapon to quickly block and parry Cid’s stabbing attacks. It took him mere moments to push Cid off balance and follow it with a backhand blow, the gauntlet smashing Cid from his feet.
Brunick tried to surge in but the lesser Fallen swarmed, ready to isolate those who’d try to cut down their leader. With his hands spaced wide over the shaft of his axe he kept his attacks at short deadly slices, efficient, risking no time consuming plunge, reserving that honour for iDartés.
Cid was quick to his feet again, this time on defence, dancing and ducking away from iDartés’ furious hatchets. Waiting for iDartés to overextend himself, Cid went on the attack again, his attacks well placed to press the giant until an opening could be found. But iDartés wasn’t going to disappoint his well earned reputation, adjusting to every extent of Cid’s effort, using his strength to placate and turn the spear with every counter. The spirit that fed iDartés’ unwavering battle instinct needed to be dealt with and Cid knew the answer to that was right there in his own hands.
Cid twirled Mindevhier around and thrust with the butt of his spear, aiming for a blunt stroke to the throat. iDartés thought it an opportunity, rolling his shoulder and quickly caught the shaft under his armpit, wrapping his massive arm around the weapon, seemingly ensuring Cid’s defeat, the spear collectively a tug-piece between the two men. But then Cid saw all that he wanted to see, the unstoppable giant wincing as Mindevhier flooded the man’s mind with the wills of warriors long dead.
Never lingering for a second Cid twisted the wooden shaft clear, the spearhead in his hands. He spun and then swiped the blade high, the edge opening up the giant’s throat.
iDartés stumbled back, dropping a hatched and the other half of Cid’s spear, clenching at his bloody neck. It should have been over, but the enraged iDartés inhumanly raised his boot into Cid’s chest. Again he toppled, hitting the ground hard, fearing death as iDartés stood over him.
The giant would bleed to death, but not before he ended the Colonel. iDartés raised a single hatchet overhead, looking unsteady on his feet, the spirit that made him so strong already fleeing, yet his gaze fixed on nothing but Cid, seeking to bury the weapon in his old opponent.
Another boot slammed the ground right next to Cid’s head, the twisting sole grinding the grains of the earth to screech in his ear. Anchored, Brunick’s axe came arching through the air, a single axe blade plunging into the collarbone of iDartés.
The blood fountained, spattering, and the weakened hand dropped the last hatchet. With a roar Brunick pulled the axe clear, the giant sinking to his back and skidding across the earth. iDartés was left for dead; he would not rise again.
Drained, Cid came to his feet, Brunick tugging him upright. They were still in the thick, still in danger, yet iDartés’ body was laid out like a signpost of terror and there was not a single fallen who showed fervour in approaching the giant slayers.
Then Drissil came charging.
In time Elmira felt herself growing closer to the edge, reflexively stepping forward, as though her body was going throw itself after Cid. Before her mind could be numbed she was sure she saw Mindevhier, and then the man carrying it disappeared again. She had to remind herself to breathe.
Brunick was obvious then, bare-chested and raging, quickly swerving around where she had seen the spear and then moments later joining a soldier’s side who surfaced sporadically.
Hopefully now Elmira watched the two men, isolated among the enemy. She could not be sure, but she thought she was looking at Cid down below back-to-back with Brunick. The scale of sights and sounds were overwhelming and so her focus remained dedicated to these two men. Mindful of the giant’s approach she realized within an instant the savage Fallen was targeting the men she watched. There was a terrifying exchange, weapons flailing. She first saw the soldier go down and seconds later Brunick cut the giant down, his death this time beyond doubt.
Purposefully the cavalry circled, making a long train and then cutting back at the Fallen, coming in with an angle. Elmira only then realized that Drissil had not retreated at all, but that he needed the right charge. Rather than trampling the Fallen, the realigned horses cut a deep path through, making a protective half moon to separate oncoming Fallen. Never stopping for a second the cavalry created a momentary wall between the specialists and the greater Fallen numbers.
Astonis
hed Elmira followed the men on foot's escape. She held her breath, keeping her eyes on the man by Brunick’s side, the two of them jogging to safety, the cavalry already again overtaken them.
In mid-run the man reassembled the spear as he had carried the halves, and then whistled at and waved down Cilverhoof. Only then Elmira was certain as she felt a horrible stress release its grip on her.
Cid’s alive!
The horse slowed to trot and Cid lifted himself into the saddle swiftly. He held up Mindevhier and Lanston rejoiced at seeing their Commander alive, the cavalry forming around him again.
None were as relieved as Elmira was.
In the meanwhile the battlefield was favouring the Fallen. The distraction of trying to recover Cid had broken a crucial rhythm for Lanston’s part and it cost them time as the enemy worked themselves tirelessly forward.
The Fallen’s emergence would not be mistake on their part, that much was known by all. Yet when the Fallen reached their mark Lanston was struck by a visible air of defeat. Despite Lanston’s best efforts the Fallen numbers had carried itself right up against the core infantry, the front most already trudging over a path of bodies, that very first regiment serving its purpose in death as they cemented the water and muddy slope.
It happened with time, the encounters clumsy for awhile, but its implication became clear only at the last moment. The Fallen suddenly formed a great dark circle, pressing the core infantry against the ridge and separating the Lanston forces entirely.
The outer half of the Fallen assembled and entrenched, creating a half circle of defence and facing opposite to their front-most brothers. They hunkered down, aiming crossbows, or holding up deadly spears and halberds, their footing strong. In this bold development the Lanston cavalry became eliminated. Like a porcupine they were. Charging at the motionless backside of the Fallen was suicide now and the only vulnerable spot the Fallen had was at the other side of the circle which was completely inaccessible to Cid’s cavalry.
The ballistae became a small mercy for the core infantry as they fired devastating shots into the numbers, only just stalling the breaking point. Should the core infantry at any moment let up their ranks would be breached and they would have no chance.
Remnant Pages Spearhead Page 41
