The elves outnumbered the ogres with what I guessed was around fifty warriors in total behind the roadblock’s walls. The enemy held the ogres for a time, able to swarm the larger foes while counting on their higher mobility to dodge many of the powerful yet cumbersome blows that were aimed at them. They dodged many of the blows, but not all. As I watched, an elf was split in half from head to groin by an axe blow. From well behind the wall, an ogre with a spear skewered an unsuspecting elf too focused on the opponent in front of him to check his flank.
Just as the fight reached a stalemate, alpha company arrived. My soldiers lacked the mass of an ogre to knock our way through the wall without the use of the catapults, but that didn’t stop us; we were the legion, after all. The first soldiers to reach the wall paired up, holding a shield horizontally between them and providing a step for the next soldiers in the formation. Soldiers hopped up onto the shields and then up onto the wall before dropping down to engage the elves.
Only a few of the elves were guarding this section of the wall; most had been focused on the ogres, so the resistance was light. The first soldiers across brushed aside the few defenders before closing ranks and attacking the elves from behind. The elves fought to the last. I had to give them credit for bravery if not for their tactics, but caught between the giant ogres and a wall of Imperial steel, they didn’t last long.
The battle was over by the time I made it to the wall. My men and the ogres stood ten feet apart, eyeing each other warily. These ogres might not have had word of the truce I made with Stench, and I didn’t want to accidentally start a fight with the clan that I hoped would eventually become allies.
“Stand down, soldiers,” I ordered, the men lowering their weapons, if not quite ready to sheath them. Stepping to the front of alpha, I made a show of sheathing my own sword. One of the spear-wielding ogres stepped forward.
“Humans, why do you trespass on the lands of the Goreaxe Clan? Leave now or we will force you off,” the ogre growled.
“Why do we ‘trespass’? Two reasons. One, we have an agreement with one of your leaders, Stench, to move freely in the Goreaxe territory as we engage the elves. Two, this road is not Goreaxe territory and was created by the Imperium. I suspect we’ll work out the details of who owns what later; for now, I intend to pursue my fight against the Ikbose elves and their allies. Do you intend to let me pass or do we need to fight, breaking your leader’s word?” I told him firmly. I had a feeling the ogres respected a stronger approach as opposed to a soft, diplomatic one.
“You may pass, though if I find you are lying about Chief Stench giving you passage, I will hunt you all down for the cookpot,” the spear-wielding ogre grunted. I nodded and the men got to work dealing with our casualties and moving aside the roadblock so the wagons could roll through. A system prompt dinged as I lent a hand at clearing the barricade.
Quest Updated: Unite the Zone. You have assisted in the defeat of another Ikbose fortification. Continue to defeat your foes and reclaim these lands for the Imperium.
Reward: 500 experience gained. You have recovered 43 gold and 100 resources from the battlefield.
I was closing in on level 12 quickly, and when I captured the eastern transition point, I should be well over the required experience. As before, the medics wasted no time treating not only my men, but also any injured ogres. While it was obvious ogres were not the types to say thank-you, they did lend a hand moving the roadblock after the medics had done their thing.
Two dozen ogres cleared the road faster than an entire company of soldiers. It was nice to have the extra help, and we got on our way once more. The ogres had been very guarded with their information, only confirming the elves controlled the transition point, not their numbers or disposition. It didn’t matter, as an hour before sunset, the eastern barrier mountains and the glowing outline of a portal could be seen in the distance.
We had arrived and our foe was waiting for us.
Chapter 15
Sokala stood on the watchtower, observing the approaching enemy, and rang the alarm bell. She could just make out the long column of soldiers and wagons in the distance as they approached along the road. Looking to the other tower, she could see her human “ally” watching the approaching foe as well. The humans had been sent here to reinforce the transition point—a point she had been ordered to keep open at all costs. The armies of Bharga’s Crossing would be coming through soon, a flood of humans that would help them wash away the long-standing taint of the ogres.
The presence of the enemy army this far to the east meant that the two roadblocks had failed. The forces stationed there should have been enough to hold off the ogre warbands, but the size of the army slowly approaching her fortifications confirmed her worst fears: the roadblocks were gone and the warriors assigned to them were dead—along with her mate.
She would still do her duty. The Ikbose were all that mattered.
Her petty emotions couldn’t be allowed to cloud her mind as she executed her orders. Her only regret was that they had run out of captives to torture before this battle. That was her catharsis to the mind-numbing duty that had been assigned to her. The last victim had died two days ago, a pitiful specimen of an old man that hadn’t had much energy to scream and seemed to accept his fate too easily.
Her only hope was that the foes they captured in the coming battle would fill the slave pens once more. The Ikbose were renowned for their skills in torture, gaining great power from the suffering of their victims. The only thing holding the clan back had been the ogres. The hated ogres always stopped them, penning them into their little corner of the zone and hampering their true right to hold the entire area in their iron grasp.
Long ago, the Ikbose had been as foolish as the rest of their weak elven kin, living their long lives separated from other humanoids. The Ikbose were made for greater things than frolicking in the woods: they were made to conquer. The great friend of the Ikbose—Zipzisilerpicazant—had shown them the way. Under his tutelage, the Ikbose found the power they craved.
He taught them to extract power from the pain of their victims, to aspire to be more than they had ever thought possible. Her people bowed to no others, save their great benefactor. Even now, the exalted imp was sending them new allies in their war against their ancient foes, the Goreaxe ogres.
As he looked down from the tower, a stream of elves as well as their human allies burst from the garrison barracks and chow hall, climbing the battlements and moving to their assigned positions even as they tried to ready their gear.
She had just over one hundred elves under her command, including a painweaver. The painweaver gave her forces a modicum of magic support and had been a great guide for furthering her knowledge along the path of pain. The enemy would rue the day it ventured here to her posting. In addition to her normal forces, their human allies had sent another one hundred of their reavers to help in the defense. These humans were poorly equipped, but they seemed willing enough to fight. Finally, in addition to the reavers, she had been given ten of the human executioners.
The executioners gave even her pause. An ominous dread seemed to seep from them, eyes glowing red in their helms. Unlike their weaker comrades, these wore strong chainmail armor and held their large axes like they knew how to use them. Lacking any ranged weapons, the reavers and executioners were held back behind the wall, ready to support the Ikbose if an enemy breached their defenses.
The transition point was well-protected, their walls anchored to the impenetrable mountains themselves, forming an impassable barrier to the east. The wall itself was a stout fifteen-foot-tall affair that extended in a large arc from the mountains to protect and encompass the transition point.
The bottom half of the walls were strong stone and thick enough to prevent them from being easily breached by simple siege engines. The top half of the walls was made of whole logs, none smaller than a foot in diameter. The stout wooden logs tapered to a point at the top and were lined with catwalks and firing ports for
her elves.
The main gate is the weak point here, Sokala thought even as the large gates were closed by a work party of reavers. There hadn’t been time to build a portcullis or an extended gate entry, which would have added a second layer of defense to the gate area.
Despite being over a foot thick and reinforced with iron straps, the gates were large, making them vulnerable. The gates had to be large enough to allow cargo wagons to pass through easily on their way to and from the transition point. To make up for this weakness, the two makeshift wooden towers—one of which she was perched atop—were constructed. Just inside the walls, the towers flanked the main gate, their height allowing archers to fire over the wall and into approaching enemies.
Shaking herself from her concerns, Sokala remained firm in the knowledge that no foe would easily breach her defenses. These human soldiers of the Imperium might as well march themselves into the slave pens directly and save them all the trouble.
The smile on her face at the idea of the enemy marching into captivity vanished as the long column of soldiers began to move into battle formation. There were far more than she had thought at first. Like a painweaver slowly revealing a blade to its victim, the soldiers drew their long column into a line of battle. The Imperium legionnaires moved in large blocks of around fifty men, the movement of each block precise and practiced.
The soldiers were armed with what looked like steel armor of some type, the gear in good repair and of good quality as far as she could tell from this distance. Where had that gear come from? The reports she had on the legion from only a few weeks ago indicated shoddy leather armor and that there were few of them, maybe two hundred in number at most.
The humans marched forward at a steady pace. Counting the blocks, she made out over four hundred of the Imperium soldiers approaching her walls. Thankfully, they seemed nearly devoid of ranged weapons. Other than some puny throwing spears the main body carried, only a score of its soldiers wielded simple crossbows; the longbows of her people would easily outrange a crossbow. The numerical advantage of her foes wouldn’t matter. Her warriors would slay them with a shower of arrows long before they reached the walls.
Humans were weak and cowardly at heart. Kill a few dozen and the rest would likely flee all the way home. The approaching soldiers stopped just outside of bowshot from the walls and stood in their ranks, silent, eyes locked straight ahead. To the rear of the soldiers, several strange wagons began spreading out behind the formations. The wagons were covered in tarps, and soldiers milled about them. Were they stopping to prepare a meal from their stores before battle?
It quickly became apparent they weren’t stopping to feed the troops, as the tarps on four of the smaller wagons were thrown back, revealing some type of siege engine. Other soldiers began to pull large wooden pieces from another wagon, quickly hammering them together to form two other siege engines: small catapults, she believed.
The four smaller siege engines resembled crossbows made for a giant. The soldiers milled about the contraptions, loading large spear-length bolts into them before cranking back the arms of the weapon. With a loud wooden clack , all four weapons fired. The huge missiles arced over, only to fall short of the walls by a good ten yards. The elves on the walls began to laugh and taunt the human soldiers. Even a few of the more undisciplined reavers climbed up to the battlements to watch the show.
A soldier ran about shouting orders to the crews of the four weapons and Sokala waited to see if the soldiers would be flogged for their failure. To her disappointment, the soldier was just giving them instructions. With another clack , the four bolts flew again at her defenses. With a thump , all four embedded themselves into the wooden face of the wall, only a few feet from the top.
“Get down, you fools. Those silly weapons can hit the walls,” Sokala shouted as another wave of bolts flew over. Two embedded themselves at the top of the wall, and two flew over the wall and into the courtyard. A cut-off scream from the mob of reavers confirmed one had been impaled by the missile. The next wave claimed another reaver, and her allies began to mill about anxiously.
“Get directly behind the walls or wait in the barracks, you idiots. They can’t hit you there,” she ordered. The humans followed her commands, half of the reavers running to safety directly behind the wall where the arc of the firing weapons couldn’t reach them. The other half of the reavers and the executioners made their way inside the stout barracks, the walls of which would easily resist a few oversized spears.
After a few more volleys, the siege engines stopped their barrage. It was gaining them nothing but wasted ammunition. The other siege engines, the small catapults, now made their presence known, firing two stones over and into a section of the wall. There was a crash of impact and the walls shuddered a bit. The catapults continued to hurl stones at the same section of wall, over a dozen, before they too ceased their fire. Sokala looked for signs of damage to the structure of the wall or gate, finding none.
“They cannot breach our walls with their weak siege engines! Stand ready for the order to fire. They’ll have to brave the open ground to reach us and we’ll fill them full of arrows long before they reach the wall—”
BOOM!
Sokala’s speech was cut short as another stone thudded into the wall. This time, it exploded with great force. A four-foot-diameter hole had been blasted through the wooden beams of the wall. The shattered bits of wall blew inward, showering the reavers sheltering behind it with splinters. Many of the humans went down, injured but not killed.
BOOM!
Another blast! This one struck the tower next to her, obliterating it and killing the three archers stationed there.
“There’s nothing we can do. The human soldiers and their magical siege engines will pound us to dust,” Sokala muttered before excruciating pain shot through her insides. It felt as if her stomach was on fire. She frantically looked for the wound, reaching for the healing potion at her belt. There was no bleeding wound to be found, and no entrails spilled onto the planks of the tower. The pain ended as abruptly as it started.
“Do not panic, Warband Leader Sokala. This magic is known to me and is limited to the dwarves that accompany the humans. They will only be able to cast these exploding rocks a few more times before they run out of magical runes. It is unbecoming of an officer of the Ikbose to panic, and I suggest you do not do so again or the pain I inflict on you will be permanent,” the painweaver warned.
Unlike the other warriors, the painweaver wore no armor and was adorned in a simple red robe. His body was emaciated and gaunt, a side effect of his practiced art. The painweaver had appeared suddenly behind her, startling her and causing the other two warriors in the tower with them to shrink back in fear.
Sokala recovered her wits and stood again on the tower as another pair of holes was blasted in the same section of wall. Thankfully, none of the warriors other than the two archers stationed in her tower had seen the display of cowardice. Two archers she could handle; both appeared to be watching the enemy lines and ignoring the drama next to them. She was not fooled; these two had to go before they could poison the ears of her comrades.
“Do you wish me to assist?” the painweaver asked, a smile on his face. With a nod, she gestured to the archer next to him while she drew her knife and thrust it into the one in front of her. At the same time as her blow, Sokala unleased a wave of pain directly into the lungs of her victim, stealing any scream that might escape her victim’s lips. The archer writhed in pain, unable to fight back as Sokala thrust her blade in several more times.
She stood from her victim and resumed her watch on the enemy. When she spared a glance at the painweaver’s victim, it was as she suspected. The archer’s face contorted in a silent scream of agony as blood leaked from her eyes, ears, and nose. While Sokala had some skill in inflicting pain, the painweaver was a true master, able to kill with merely a touch.
The barrage of exploding stones continued, a large breach in the wall occurring where the
Imperium soldiers were focusing their fire. The wooden portion of the wall had been shattered, but the stone foundation of the wall remained, proving too tough for even exploding catapult shots to destroy. The breach might be present, but the stone base would still be a difficult obstacle for her foes to climb while under fire.
The fire then shifted to the gates themselves. Only a few shots were needed to break through the gates, the weak point unable to withstand the same amount of damage the stronger wall sections had. On the second strike, the gates failed, one side slamming flat to the ground with a loud thud while the other swayed in the wind, held on by only a single creaking hinge.
True to the painweaver’s prediction, the barrage stopped after that. The Imperium stopped the magical attack and was content to drop the sole remaining gate with normal rocks. Orders were being barked out by the enemy leaders, jolting their formation into motion. The enemy troops began to approach, marching at a quick pace yet maintaining their formations.
“Get to the battlements! Shower the foe with your arrows. Strike hard for the Ikbose!” Sokala shouted as she unslung her own bow, determined to get some shots in herself. Her elven archers stood from their positions on the wall and began to fire as rapidly as they could while still maintaining accuracy.
Hitting the approaching soldiers wasn’t hard since they were bunched together. The first volley hit the soldiers, dropping a score before they began to change formation. The front rank closed together as they raised their ridiculously large shields in front of them, offering no target. The soldiers in the rear ranks held their shields up over their heads, each block of soldiers protected from all angles.
The barrage of arrows continued, Sokala soon reaching back and finding an empty quiver. Had she shot all two dozen arrows already? Caught up in the familiar pattern of draw, fire, and reload, she hadn’t noticed the soldiers had closed to within a few yards of the wall. The barrage had killed only a few soldiers; their wall of shields left only a few gaps that an occasional shot could exploit. The advancing mass of enemies was, by and large, intact!
Limitless Lands Book 4: Opposition (A LitRPG Adventure) Page 15
