Defenders of the Realm

by Dave Willmarth

  “How about if I send a couple stone golems as guards, and have Pollock and his crew close by hunting? We can also have a few of the wolves scout a perimeter.” Alexander offered.

  “Aye, that’d be more’n enough. We’ll get it done. I’ll be tellin me wee grandchildren o’ this battle! We should sell tickets! Invite Thalgrin to watch. Make him bring the ale!”

  The dwarf was on his feet and gone in seconds. Alexander appreciated his enthusiasm. He was a little proud of the idea himself. He’d decided not to tell anyone the entire plan until right before the battle. Give them a little morale boost, if not a few laughs.

  He’d wanted to manage the entire battle without putting anyone but players at risk. But with the numbers the orcs had, he didn’t see any way to pull that off. So now he was doing all he could to minimize the risk of the citizens that would be joining the battle. The crossbows were an inspiration. Using those as his basis, he just went with his strengths. Literally.

  Another idea occurred to him. He opened guild chat. “Hey um… Kai? Do you think you could teleport Rocky up to the river on the plateau?”

  He heard Sasha snort and Max laugh before Kai answered. “I can manage that. Are you planning to feed him orc meat?”

  “As much as he can possibly hold! My next question is, will you be able to teleport him back down with his belly full of a few dozen orcs?”

  There was general laughter across the channel. Kai didn’t bother to answer. Alexander was feeling more and more confident. He was worried about his people taking on such a large group. But so far everyone’s morale was high, and they were confident of their abilities. He hoped his first big battle as a king wouldn’t end in disaster.

  And on the topic of morale… that evening when supper time rolled around, each of the guards who showed up to eat were directed to the interior dining room, where a special fish dinner was served. The guards who’d caught the fish were given the night off, and a keg of dwarven spirits was tapped.

  Chapter 5

  Orc vs Dork

  The next two days were spent in preparation. Alexander joined the group of citizens learning to use the crossbows. They cranked and fired at cloth targets pinned to hay bales over and over until they could do it without thinking. When he wasn’t working with one of the crossbows, he practiced with his regular bow. His proficiency still wasn’t anywhere near that of even a level 20 hunter or ranger, but he could hit his target 8 out of 10 times. He also spent some time with a practice dummy, whaling away with his sword, trying to remember the proper forms from when he’d played a warrior. His guards quite enjoyed that display, calling out pointers and encouragement amidst good-natured laughter and betting.

  Alexander helped his people prepare in a variety of ways. He carried weapons to the chapel to be blessed. He helped smoke meat to be used as camp rations, and rubbed oil into leather armor to keep it flexible and water resistant.

  Lugs and his crew joined Pollock’s group, up on the plateau. Clearing the dungeon had given them enough experience to level up to 40, so the dire wolves and other beasts of the lower forest didn’t offer much experience. The higher-level creatures presented more of a challenge. The two groups together, along with Max, Sasha, Lyra, and Lainey went in search of the dire wolves east of the river, south of where the friendly wolves ranged. When they stumbled upon a pack, Helga managed to get herself killed. But Benny was there to rez her, so she didn’t lose any xp.

  Martin, Amelia, Lucas, and his daughter were all back in the game as immersion players. Along with a few other original PWP officers. Being low level, they stayed in Antalia doing fetch, find, and carry quests. The queen and princess Kimberly were nice enough to give them a few ‘epic’ noob quests that granted significant experience and reputation without much risk. Everybody simply adored Lucas’ daughter Annabelle, and the sweet girl quickly became a favorite of citizens throughout the city. She was so happy to be able to run and jump again, she just never stopped moving. Annabelle quickly became known as “Sprite”.

  By the time the Greystone guild and citizens of Elysia were ready to take on the orcs, all the guild members except the healers were in their 40’s. Everyone was well geared and armed. They had a plan, and were in high spirits.

  Fitz joined them on the morning of the battle. He apologized to Alexander, saying they had not found a way to cure his condition. The old wizard even hinted that it might not be the worst idea for Alexander to be killed. But not until after the orcs were defeated. He also said he’d learned something from the drow and the baron, but that the information could wait.

  Alexander asked him if he could teach Fibble to read the way he taught him to speak common. Fitz had never tried such a thing, but promised to think it over. He was greatly amused by the goblin’s new agility, and interested to see what he would choose for his other stats if given the chance.

  When midmorning came, Fitz and Kai teleported all those who were to participate in the battle up to the bridge. The two structures were complete, and people were assigned their positions. Alexander finally revealed his whole plan to all those present, and it was received with a combination of laughter and cheers. Even Rocky, when he heard the cheering, surfaced and gave a trumpeting call of his own. Which earned even more applause.

  Five minutes later everyone was dispersing to man their positions. Alexander said. “Jeeves, please send the stone golems!”

  And just like that, Alexander’s first big battle as King of Elysia began.

  *****

  In the village to the north, Borag was sitting on a pile of hides and gnawing on a deer haunch when the sounds of battle reached him. He heard the roar of his guards and the clash of weapons followed by cries of pain.

  One of his officers stuck a head inside the hut and shouted. “The stones! The stones come to life. Come to kill us!”

  Borag leapt to his feet and grabbed his favorite weapon, a five-foot long metal bar with a spike at the end. The immense orc stood 7 feet tall with shoulders half that wide. Every inch of his body was hard muscle and scar tissue. The spiked club’s hundred-pound weight was inconsequential to him. His mottled grey skin turned darker as his blood began to pump adrenaline through his system. He began to breathe more rapidly, pumping oxygen to his muscles as he ran from the hut and north toward the sound.

  He’d expected the cow-warriors to come for him. In fact, he was surprised they’d waited so long. It was a mistake on their part. They’d given his warriors time to rest, feed, and to find shelter. They could defend this village against hundreds of the cow-faces, if not a thousand!

  What he saw when he reached the edge of the village was not cow-faces. There were two creatures made of stone. Each ten feet tall and clearly stronger than even Borag himself. He watched as one of them snatched a fleeing orc warrior in one hand, lifted him and smashed him into another passing orc. Both went down in a dazed pile of broken bones and blood.

  Seeing a discarded spear on the ground near his feet, Borag picked it up and hurled the weapon with all his might. The point impacted the stone creature dead center on its chest. A small chip of stone peeled off the thing as the spear tip bent and the shaft shattered. The stone golem barely registered the impact.

  “Fall back! This is some cow-face magic! We cannot harm them. Move south! Fall back!” He ordered. He took his club in hand and leapt at the nearest golem. With a mighty overhead swing he brought the club’s spike down on the creature’s head. It sank into the stone maybe half an inch as it struck with a resounding clang! The vibration from the impact stung, then numbed Borag’s hands. The golem struck back with a massive stone hand that slapped Borag’s chest and sent him reeling.

  His people scattered, he had no way of knowing if the minotaurs were approaching behind this attack by the stone monsters. He called for his shaman. “Grang! What are these monsters? Get rid of them!” Hearing no answer, he searched for the old shaman. Borag spotted him fleeing toward the south, using his staff to steady himself as he moved with surprising
speed for one so old.

  The grinding of stone alerted Borag to the incoming blow, and he rolled to one side. A massive stone fist slammed into the ground where he’d been. Scrambling to his feet, he roared in anger.

  “South! Retreat to the south! Abandon the village!” his voice boomed. Taking his own advice, he ran through the village. Looking over his shoulder, he noted two things. First, his people were already gone. He was the last to run. Only the dead remained behind him. Second, the stone creature was following.

  *****

  Alexander stood on the southern end of the bridge, right in the middle of the roadway.

  He heard Jeeves voice report. “The orcs are moving quickly toward the south, Alexander. The stone golems killed eleven orcs, taking minimal damage. They are pursuing the orcs. Nearly half have already left my detection range.”

  “They’re coming.” Alexander said into battle chat.

  He’d turned the organizing over to Sasha again, and she duplicated the groupings from earlier in the week. Every citizen and guild member was included. Since this was technically an invasion, each defender would receive experience and the quest reward, regardless of their proximity to the battle. Those not up here participating were defending the walls below.

  He looked around at his chosen field of battle. Ahead of him on the bridge was a row of shields. Three rock trolls were spaced evenly across the roadway, their brand new massive shields the size of a door. Filling the space between them were Brick, Grumpy, Warren, Pollock and his two warriors, all with their shields connected. Together they blocked the entirety of the bridge’s width.

  Behind them were two rows of dwarves and humans with shields of their own, and spears in hand. And behind them another two rows of dwarves whose job it was to keep their comrades from being pushed back.

  Atop the tower to his right, every window and the entire roof was filled with archers. Thirty of the crossbows were up there, along with a dozen of Lorian’s hunters, Max, and Lainey. Beatrix was up there as well, so was Misty. The two casters were going to combine water and ice to make life miserable for the orcs on the bridge. Sasha and the healers were split. One half on the roof, the other half standing behind Alexander. All in all there were just over a hundred defenders standing ready to face nearly four times their number. They were all buffed with strength, stamina, intelligence, health regen, and mana regen boosting spells.

  In front of his line of tanks, the bridge curved up and over the river. There was a bright red line painted on both stone railings just this side of the apex. That was the limit of healing magic range. Anyone advancing beyond that point was on their own.

  Across the bridge at the other end sat the single-story tower base that Jeeves had constructed. The door sat open, the one large room empty.

  They didn’t have to wait long. At first, just a few orcs emerged from the trees. They halted for a moment, seeing the line of defenders across the bridge. Some trotted over to the river banks on either side of the bridge to look for a way across. A few well-placed arrows from the archers on the roof left dead orcs floating down the river or sprawled on the bank. When Rocky burst from the water with one of the bodies in his jaws and roared at the orcs, those still near the banks promptly retreated. Rocky took his snack and positioned himself under the bridge for protection.

  Some of the other orcs approached the northern tower structure with caution. Seeing no defenders, they rushed inside and milled around. All they saw was a big empty room. A few elected to stay, as they were protected from arrows inside the building.

  Over the next two minutes, more and more of the orcs emerged from the forest. Now, there were more than two hundred of them and the numbers kept growing. With a two-to-one advantage, the orcs began to feel more courageous. They grouped together and advanced a short distance onto the bridge, stomping their feet and thumping weapons on shields or armor. They began to chant, the deep rumbling war chant and stomping feet combined for an impressive display.

  Alexander was almost sorry to have to kill them all. They would make a useful ally on the battlefield. Molgo had said that the orcs had lived mostly in peace with the minotaurs until Borag banded them together. Maybe eliminating their leader would induce them to surrender.

  There were now maybe three hundred orcs gathered at the north end of the bridge. An older, withered looking orc with a staff and a lot of feathers sewn into his armor hopped up onto one of the bridge railings and began to shout. The chanting died down as he waved his staff and roared at the gathered warriors. When he pointed toward the tree line, all heads turned, and the bridge grew completely silent.

  A massive orc strode from the shadow of the trees with an impressively large metal club over one shoulder. He stopped to survey the scene, having no trouble seeing over the heads of his troops to inspect the defenders across the bridge. He laughed loudly, then called out “Puny humans, elves, and dwarves? And a couple rock-eaters? You think to face Borag with these?” Alexander Inspected the orc.

  War Master Borag

  Level 70

  Health: 45,000/45,000

  Drog, who held the position in the middle of the front line, shouted in his rock-grinding voice. “THREE rock-eaters, stupid orc!”

  Which got his allies and a few of the orcs laughing. Borag, not used to being laughed at, went into a rage. His roar echoed through the forest for a few seconds before it was picked up by nearly 400 orcs. They charged forward across the bridge.

  “Move!” Brick shouted, and the line of tanks took a step forward, then another. They were in no rush, and kept the line intact. They simply sought some momentum to meet the charge. Beatrix went to work, raising a massive stream of water from the river and slamming it onto the bridge on the orc’s side. Misty immediately hit it with a cone of arctic air, turning it to ice. The orcs were now climbing the slight upslope on their side of the bridge. The side that was now a solid sheet of ice. Their progress slowed as those up front began to slip and fall.

  Alexander heard Max’s voice from up on the tower shout “Fire!” and a hail of arrows and crossbow bolts streaked into the front of the orcish ranks. The bolts were particularly devastating, sometimes passing completely through an arm or throat to damage the next orc in line. Dozens of the brutish warriors fell, further slowing the orc advance. Ten seconds later, another hail of bolts and arrows felled more of the enemy. The bridge was now becoming more treacherous as blood started to coat the ice.

  Brick and the tanks continued to advance. As the first orcs cleared the ice, they charged forward. The tanks didn’t break stride, slamming their shield wall into the charging orcs. The stunned front line quickly perished to the spears jabbed forward by the second line of Elysian defenders. More and more of orcs cleared the ice and ran forward, only to have to step over their own dead and dying to get to the defenders. The bodies quickly began to pile up. Brick called “Back!” and the entire force of Elysians took two coordinated steps backward. This opened up some space between them and the growing pile of dead. They didn’t want to allow any orcs to use the bodies as a springboard to leap over their shields.

  Max and the archers shifted their fire to targets farther back in the press. They didn’t want to risk any friendly fire. Beatrix repeated her water spell, this time drenching the orcs, Misty blasted them into ice-covered numbness. While not frozen solid, they were slowed considerably as they broke free of the icy crust that surrounded them. Another wave of arrows and bolts targeted those who broke free first.

  A roar from the back of the orcish ranks signaled that Borag was entering the fray. In his rage he shoved aside his warriors and pushed toward the front. He used his spiked club to steady himself crossing the ice, and ignored an arrow that embedded itself in his collarbone. As soon as he cleared the ice, he sprinted forward and leapt the pile of bodies from the first wave. He roared again and raised his club, a look of pure hatred focused on Drog.

  The rock troll smiled as Brick yelled “One!”.

  The entire front
line took a single step forward, pushing back the orcs in front of them. Drog pushed harder than the rest, his shield rising to meet the falling orc leader in midair. The impact as Borag’s swinging club connected with the massive shield sent a physical sound wave outward that made friend and foe alike shake their heads and sent ripples through the water of the river.

  Borag impacted the shield himself a second later, making a much less impressive noise. Drog just smiled, unmoved, as the orc fell backward onto his troops. Drog lowered his shield and swung a stone club that crushed three warriors before it clipped Borag’s shoulder and sent him spinning.

  Alexander, seeing that all the orcs were now on the bridge, shouted in battle chat “Team two, move! Now!” and watched as a few seconds later, Lugs, Helga, three more rock trolls, and several dozen dwarf and human warriors rushed out of the underground chamber in the north structure at the other end of the bridge, and formed up behind the orcs. As soon as they were in line, the rock trolls roared and began to move forward. The orcs in the rear of their lines turned to see the enemies behind them and began to shout. Nearly a hundred of them turned and rushed toward the Elysian line that had appeared at their backs.

  Again the arrows and bolts mowed them down, nearly a third of the rear guard falling injured or dead before the rest went crashing into the tanks. Lugs began chanting something as they blocked and bashed the enemies in front of them. After a couple verses, his comrades took up the chant. Alexander couldn’t make it out, but it was deep and rhythmic, and made him want to jump into the fight.

  It looked as if they had the battle won. The orcs were bottled up on the bridge. The archers and ranged attacks were decimating their numbers. A few tried to jump into the river, until Rocky leapt out of the water with a thunderous roar, and snatched one of them off the railing before disappearing below.