To be part of a shield wall, is to be part of a greater whole.

You don’t budge, you don’t bend, and you certainly don’t back down.

Ever.

- Way of the warrior, by Grumnir Deephelm

A blowing horn roused me from my sleep.

It sounded again, but this time a lot closer.

I opened my eyes to a burned out campfire, and a lot of dwarf heads peaking out of their tents. Suddenly, a smoky, red light burned in the distant tunnel where the rail-tracks veered into; the one we hadn’t come from. “Kalthir!” a dwarven shout echoed from it.

“Kalthir!”

“Kalthir!”

“Kalthir!”

The cry was taken up by every dwarf in the encampment as all Hell broke loose. Humans stumbled out of their tents, heavy with sleep before being knocked down again by other dwarves that darted passed. Each of them too absorbed equipping various pieces of arms and armor. “Enemies?” Sly asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Probably,” I answered, letting the warm blanket slide to the ground as I stood up. Sly remained on the ground, yawning as she stretched out her limbs before grabbing one of the nearby dinner knives. A quick swipe later, she was bend over the stone floor, drawing a pattern with her blood.

While this was happening, I spotted Mogrim bustling pass a nearby campfire, one hand putting on a helmet as the other buckled the bindings of a shoulder pauldron. “Mogrim!” The dwarf skidded to a halt. “Mogrim, over here!” He turned around, finding me waving my arms.

“Sin-bearer!” the dwarf shouted as he ran closer, still fiddling with his armor. “The defiled will soon be upon us! We need to get you out of here!” He nudged me aside, shouting at another dwarf behind me. “Gurtrum, get some sappers on our exit!” Mogrim pointed at the one tunnel that didn’t contain tracks. “I want it ready to blow in fifteen minutes!” I only caught a glimpse as the man banged his breastplate in confirmation, heading off while grabbing a seemingly random dwarf along with him.

There was a bright, red flash before a heavy musk began filling the air. “Mistress,” a deep voice echoed.

“Monac,” Sly replied. I turned to find the incubus standing up from the pattern, wings outstretched. “We’ve got some unknown pests heading our way. Be so kind and kill them.”

“Certainly, mistress,” the demon bowed. “Though fighting to the death will require some additional… motivation.” That last word contained a deep hunger, enough to make my skin crawl.

“That won’t be necessary,” Sly said. The demon’s face fell as she turned towards Mogrim. “You needed time, not numbers, right?”

Mogrim ripped his attention away from the demon, looking at the illuminated tunnel. The smoky, red light bobbed up and down as it got steadily closer. “A red flare indicates more than we could possibly deal with.” Mogrim lost himself in brief contemplation. “But we do have your surface mages to fall back on…” He repeatedly shook his head. “No, no, no. That would be most unwise. We don’t know what you are capable off. Besides, I should trust my sentries' decisions. They’ve been around long enough to earn that right.”

“You heard the man,” Sly said. “Make sure to delay them as long as possible.”

“As you command.” The incubus stepped back, flapping his powerful wings as he slowly rose from the floor. Several dwarves stopped what they were doing as they saw the spectacle, pointing fingers and giving cheers.

“One more thing!” Sly shouted when the demon hovered high in the air. “Try not to fry any of our bearded friends!” The incubus gave a nod before diving towards the red tunnel, flames coalescing between his hands. “Now that that is dealt with…” Sly stepped closer, kissing my cheek before running off. “SQUAD LEADERS ON ME! I WANT EVERYONE’S ASS IN THAT TUNNEL, AND I WANT IT NOW! YOU OVER THERE, YOU BE…”

Mogrim and I just watched as she started pulling together the various groups of panicking humans, creating order out of chaos. “That’s a good woman you got there,” Mogrim mumbled.

“That she is… that she is.”

“Remember, this battle is about stalling them! Not about beating them!”

My words echoed through the large, trackless tunnel in which we stood, washing over the formation assembled in the entrance of it. Further in, some other dwarves were busy sticking bundles of weird, red tubes all over the insides of the tunnel. Tubes that were connected with wires that led to some strange black box. Whatever they were doing, Mogrim assured me it would be effective. I sure hope so. If it failed, we would need a lot more than fifteen minutes to collapse it properly. We could do it in five if we really wanted to, but that would mean collapsing everything on top of us. Not the smartest of ideas.  

A dull explosion rumbled in the tunnel opposite of us as the inside briefly lit up with a ball of fire. They’re almost here. I turned back to the crowd, and odd mix of demon, dwarves, and humans. “We do not fight to win!” I shouted, addressing the shivering humans. “We fight to retreat!” The bulk of our Awakened were the Shapers in the middle section. Scantily clothed and weird looking as they had been forced to shift moments after waking up. Most sported elongated claws and ears; the marking that their demon’s soul hadn’t progressed beyond that of an imp yet.

“Whatever comes through that hole, it does not matter!” More Shapers looked up at me. Some cried, some shivered, while others were busy emptying their stomach on the floor. Only those few stationed directly behind the dwarven lines showed resolute calmness. “What matters is that you stand your ground!”

Another rumble as more flames flashed in the distant tunnel. “Stick to the plan, and do not run! If you do, our back-line dies.” I gestured at the Warlocks at the back of our formation, but mostly the Fire Warlocks stationed on elevated rock platforms like me. They each held a burning torch, and an imp at their side; the only imps not to be interspersed between the back ranks. “No fire, means no light! No light, means we’re fucked!” Except for me. I could see fine with what little light the crystal lanterns gave off, but it must be utterly terrifying for everyone else. Their first real battle, shrouded in near darkness. “Listen to your leaders. They will tell you what to do!” I pointed at the four Shapers standing behind the dwarves. Two were Dirk and Dagger in their shifted forms. The third was Hammer, or what had taken his place; something that resembled a giant bear on two legs. One whose arms and nails were much longer than normal. The last one was more difficult to spot, for Pickle wasn’t that tall; not even in his shifted form. Though it did came with other benefits, ones that his rocky skin would make quite clear in the coming scuffle. “And remember-”

This time the explosion could be felt from here, causing bits and pieces of rock to clatter down from the ceiling. A quick glance at the source told me why. A massive fireball had enveloped the entrance as a winged figure shot out from it. It was heading our way, carrying what seemed to be a quite badly burned dwarf. A dwarf that was busy trying to stamp out the patches of flames burning his beard. Unfortunately, the incubus was rapidly losing altitude, almost diving as he flew towards our tunnel. He passed right over the dwarves, dropping his passenger in their mass, before slamming into the ground behind them. A few rolls later, he came to a standstill, leaving him a mess of broken wings and limbs. Sly ran towards him, cradling his mangled form as she began chanting some archaic words. The open wounds on his body were dripping a bright, violet glow. Their insides showing no bone, nor flesh, only more of this shining subtenancy. When Sly finished, the wounds grew larger, visibly eating away at the demon until he dispersed into a cloud of glittering particles. A few seconds later, it was dark again.

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If only I could dismiss a certain someone... Not that fantasizing would do me any good. Gob still snored loudly in my mind, refusing to wake up no matter how hard I shouted. And boy, did I want him to wake up. “They’re coming!” I yelled, watching as a flood of abominations began to swarm out of the scorched tunnel. Their forms as grotesque and twisted as the day we encountered them at the lakeside.

Mogrim peered into the darkness before laughing. The other dwarves joined in the merrymaking as the man lifted his ax high. “Brethren, it seems the Father has blessed us this day!” He slammed his breastplate. “May fortune guide your blows!” All the dwarves let out a fierce war-cry that shook the air, their earlier fear seemingly gone—replaced by a foreign madness. Now they jumped up and down, repeatedly slapping their helmets as they were psyching themselves up. Some of the dwarves proceeded to step outside of the tunnel, only to be pulled back by the more cool-headed ones. Even the dwarf that had crashed into the formation tried limping back towards the front, dragging his broken leg behind him as he leaned close enough to use his crossbow. What the fuck is happening?

Whatever it was, it had to be dealt with later. The horde was speeding our way, and with their advancement, my anxiousness only grew. The tunnel we were in served as a natural choke-point. Were it not a rather poor version of it. It was wide enough to support twelve dwarves side by side. And with the numbers heading our way, I could only wish that it was that much smaller.

“Get ready!” I shouted. The Fire Warlocks lifted their torches, holding it in front of their open hands. “Steady!” My voice was beginning to get drowned out, lost in the chorus of dwarven taunts, but mostly the rumbling of the impeding horde. “Steady!” Vibrations ran through my body as small pebbles and stones began to bounce up and down on the ground. “Steady!” My teeth chattered. Sound assaulted my ears as flesh met dwarven steel. Several of the grotesque dwarves flipped over the shield wall, hacked to pieces before they could get their bearing. Earth groaned as the dwarves got pushed back, sliding along the floor as fist, tooth, and nail rained upon them. Bestial grunts and battle-cries filled the air as dwarf and monster vied for dominance. And then the sliding stopped; the dwarves gone quiet as their shield wall refused to budge another inch. There was only the sound of monsters, and my command cutting through the air. “Loose!”

Jets of flames streamed past me, flying over the dwarves before washing the immobile horde in a sea of red. Ghastly screeches resounded through the tunnel, coming from the endless shifting mass of flesh before us. Whatever drove these things, it had deemed them expendable. Dwarf upon twisted dwarf threw itself through the fire, battering against the defender’s shields with reckless abandon, heedless of the scorching heat that melted its skin and cooked its insides. They simply stood tall on their four legs, raining down blow after blow until the fire became too much, or the intercepting axes had relieved them of their weaponry.

A dwarf screamed. One of the creatures had grabbed hold of his shield. Axes began chopping of its limbs and fingers, but not fast enough. With a strong pull, the creature tore of the defender’s arm, taking his shield with it. The dwarf made a roar as he leaped forth, planting his ax into the being’s skull. It toppled over, pulling with it the dwarf as he swung around, cleaving and dismembering before being pulled apart himself. His final act brief, but long enough to buy his comrades the time needed to plug the breach.

This stalemate didn’t last more than a minute before the creatures started using their fallen as stepping stones. Very soon, they would waltz right over the shield wall, and then things would get really ugly. A few seconds later, it came to that. Several creatures dropped into the middle of the dwarven formation, causing Mogrim to blow his horn. That’s our cue.

“Loose!” I commanded. This time no jets of flames went flying past, for they were already there, scorching the enemy. No, it was a combination of both Wind and Earth Magic. Projectiles both visible and unseen. The combined might of our Shapers’ and Warlocks’ magic smashed into the enemy, tearing, and slicing apart flesh while giving the dwarves the breather they so desperately needed. They took full advantage of it, retreating a dozen paces before interlocking their shields again.

A newly formed line, and with it, an extra minute of time. It was over before we knew it. Mogrim blew the horn once more, having lost only a couple of dwarves to the horde’s lucky fingers; instances where they had found some purchase on their slippery shields.

Now comes the hard part. “Loose!” I shouted once more. The dwarves retreated deeper into the tunnel under our barrage of projectiles, reestablishing their line with practiced ease. Only this time, the jets of flames ceased flying. What remained were small orbs of floating flames, large enough to give a decent illumination of the tunnel’s inside. Most of the Awakened began shouting in protest, asking the Fire Warlocks what in the Gods names did they think they were doing. But Sly had drilled them well, and they were not budging under the pressure.

Good. It was difficult to notice under the sweltering heat, but the lingering temperature wasn’t the reason people were having difficulty breathing. No. For some reason, channeling flames in a tunnel, or an enclosed space, would rob the air of its essence. And without this essence, people would find it hostile, robbing them of their conscious before killing them slowly. Whether it was punishment of the Gods, or some weird form of revenge, no one knew. We rats had just stumbled upon it during our long struggles underground, incorporating it into our tunnel warfare.

It seems we need a lot more lessons. If we get to live, that is. “Shapers!” I shouted. “Get ready for close combat!” Without the flames scorching the edges of the tunnel, the true horror of our enemy got revealed. Their twisted figures began to crawl alongside the walls of the tunnel, arm muscles bulging as they gripped their way forward with surprising speed. Below, the dwarven shield wall was holding up nicely against the monster’s renewed charge, but it would be next to useless against these new tactics.

“Focus your fire!” Sly began to shout. “Shoot those already targeted. Leave those already knocked down!” It took a while for elemental projectiles to start whizzing past; the glaring weakness in the Awakened’s casting time apparent when faced with these sudden changes on the battlefield. I gripped the air tight with my fingers, pulling down hard to the left as an earthen spike burst from the right tunnel wall, skewering one of the creatures into place. Other Earth Warlocks and Shapers tried to do similar things, mostly failing by being too slow in their casting, summoning spikes and protrusions at places their targets had already passed seconds ago.

As time passed, some of the crawlers began jumping at the dwarven flanks whenever they got far enough, but most of them proceeded onward, reaching dangerous territory. “Brace yourselves!” I shouted, heel striking the ground as I punched my fist down. An earth column surged out of the ceiling, sending the mutated dwarf, crawling there, plummeting to the floor. It crashed with a sickening crunch, ripped apart by nearby Shapers as it struggled in vain.

“Marcus, look out!” I turned towards the voice on the right, finding the airborne form of a crawler flying towards me. Not thinking, I leaned back, kicking my leg upwards as I felt myself topple backwards. The creature slammed into my platform, finding itself impaled on the skewer I left there. But with that, I found myself now sailing through the air. Time seemed to slow down as I plummeted,  only to speed up again as I slammed onto my back, head bouncing hard on the stone floor.

Air left my chest, refusing to come back no matter how hard I gasped as pain flared through my head. I felt someone pull me up, my vision now dark and hazy as the screams and cries of battle grew muffled and soft. The shadowy shape tried talking to me, but I couldn’t understand him. Ally? Suddenly, something big sent him flying before looming over me. Enemy? I could barely stand, let alone fight. My legs gave out, causing me to topple backwards as the dark figure seemed to do something. A dark part of it zipped by, barely missing as air brushed against my face. An attack? Not good. Need to defend. My legs didn’t work, and I could barely move. So it will be that.

I clapped my hands together as the figure moved closer, pulling them apart in a blinding flash of light. It probably worked since I was rewarded by a muffled screech in return. Light Magic, bitch. Didn’t expect that, now did ya? The flash began to fade, screeching replaced by the sounds of flesh being torn apart. In its place was an even larger shadow, busy ripping black parts and pieces from the one in front of it. It stopped when it saw me looking, catching my arm as I attempted another clap. Ah, it’s hairy. I think I know someone hairy…

It picked me up, heaving me over its shoulder as a horn began blowing softly in the distance. This feels familiar. Bright red colors began lighting up my hazy vision whilst warming my skin. The screams grew softer as the figure lugged me away from the dance of shadows. Many of them accompanied us in a hurry, while others stayed behind to tussle with their bigger versions. I’m feeling sleepy… My eyelids began to sag, consciousness fading with the rocking motion of being carried. I had almost fallen asleep when an earth-shattering explosion rocked the ground, loud enough to pierce the muffled haze that was my hearing. Quiet soon followed the rumbling, leaving me alone to doze off with the voice in my head.

Huh? What was that?

Did I miss anything?