Reid's armor softly clacked against itself as he shifted Requiem to his left hand. Dew hadn't yet burned off the grass, and it glimmered in the early light.
This morning had already been difficult. Sara and Susan were together up in the field, at the command center - a square of large RVs that made up a lookout tower and HQ. Reid wouldn't have been able to separate himself from them if he hadn't been convinced the enemy would appear at the front gate. He wanted his wife and daughter to both be as far away from the heavy fighting as possible. Sara was doing better. She had color to her face, and did try to act more normal - but she was far from her usual self. Susan was rigid, and obviously stressed. While her role was technically healer for the field group, she promised to stick as close to Sara as possible. Reid held them both for a long, quiet while before they parted ways.
Marlene and James were with them. They'd argued with Reid a bit over that placement, but he'd put his foot down on the subject. He knew Sara was supposed to be able to hold her own in a fight, but Reid wanted as many of their capable people with her and Susan as possible. Toby and a number of the Margaret survivors were with the field group as well. While that wouldn't have been reassuring two weeks ago, Toby had become a dedicated, respectable fighter. They had 21 of Sanctuary's 41 squads. Each consisted of ten people - one officer and a combination of at least two magic users, archers, and warriors. The final three members of each group varied. Some had even splits between the combatant types, others were magic heavy or warrior heavy.
If that wasn't enough, there were less-trained reserves and armed refugees to pull into the fight if they needed. The field group was well armed, well positioned, and should prove to be well defended.
Reid's side of things was similar. He was informally in charge, though it wasn't system enforced. Walt was his top officer - the boy had shown an incredible mind for tactics - and he had Marysa there overseeing their core force of archers. Reid only had 20 squads to the field's 21, but he expected himself to more than make up for the difference. He didn't put too much stock in their reserves. Most of them were already buckled into the escape vehicles.
Mark paced by for the third time. The walls were solid, but the man couldn't stop himself from re-inspecting things. Warren had been placed with the front gate warriors, and tried to get Mark's attention when he passed. Reid nearly fainted when he saw Mark refuse a sip from one of the flasks Warren carried on him. He was unconventionally serious, and spent more time checking the wall near the archers than he did anywhere else.
Putting teenagers in their fighting forces was not something Reid liked. But they fought to be included - and Marlene had wanted to head off having a group of kids firing arrows that wasn't worked into the command structure. At least this way, there was someone responsible for them that could call a retreat or swap them out with reserves as needed.
Marysa wore a black polo shirt with white flanks. It had 'UDA Archery' embroidered in orange on the left chest. The teens wore similar "uniforms" under their wooden armor. Others around them spanned in age from early twenties to... well, very old. Their oldest fighter was a wiry man with a cloud of perfectly white hair on his head. His gaze was hard and determined. Reid realized the rest of them were as well. They were all an entirely non-traditional group of fighters, but ready for the fight.
Danny shifted uncomfortably next to Reid. The healer was responsible for keeping the front gate in the fight. He was apprehensive, but didn't complain or try to run. Lowell stood close by. His job was still part jailer and part bodyguard to Danny. The man had shown himself to be trustworthy in Reid's eyes, but Marlene didn't want to chance things.
Lowell was even more uncomfortable than the healer. Every few seconds, he glanced back towards the field, and ground his teeth. Reid could see the worry in his eyes, and did his best to distract the man from it.
"Hey, Lowell - did you hear some kids found an old movie projector while they were moving around supplies?" The quiet man shifted focus to Reid, then quizzically cocked his head. "They think they can get it working, and there are some old films with it. Should end up being a good opportunity to take somebody on a date."
Lowell's face flushed and he stammered out a too-enthusiastic reply. "T-that's great! Really great!" The worry was still there, under the shock and embarrassment.
"You two are good together, you know. He's gotten stronger, and good with that hammer - Toby, I mean. You don't need to worry about him. But you do need to keep your head on yourself. Focus on the here and now. Focus on keeping yourself safe, and know that he's going to do the same."
Lowell twisted his face for a moment, then nodded. He set his eyes on the tree line. They still flicked back to the field, but it happened less often than before.
Reid watched the timer tick down.
Countdown to beast teleportation: 0d 0h 0m 3s... 2s... 1s...
A low, reverberating noise swept in and shook everyone on the wall. Beyond the tree line, flashes of light dazzled in the morning air. Thunderclap-like rumbles echoed out from the woods. Trees shook, and a series of familiar screeches joined the growing cacophony. The lights and sounds extended in a wide arc, and continued for nearly three minutes.
Reid could feel the unease growing in the troops as time ticked by. Walt's hand rested on his radio. When the beasts appeared, they were to give a report to the other group on what they were actually facing. An unassuming man next to Walt had some inventory or accountant skill that would allow him to give precise counts of the foes they faced. Only after getting accurate numbers and a report of the beasts' makeup would any calls on squad movements be made. Reid never got the man's name, and decided he would be the accountant until that changed.
When the lightshow finished, deep dripping-water noises echoed out - followed by the chaotic trample of thousands of moving feet.
The first beast through the trees was a small, four foot tall salamander. Reid saw its orange eyes and hooked teeth, even at this distance. He remembered when one of those beasts had been a mortal danger to him.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
The lone salamander looked left and right, then faced towards the trees and let out a series of water drop noises.
The forest shifted, and the enemy began to emerge.
A handful of the small salamanders walked forward onto the open field in front of the gates. Then three dozen. Reid lost count as the enemy numbers rose into the hundreds. The accountant blinked rapidly next to Walt, and stammered out a count once the enemy group stopped moving
"O...one-thousand, five-hundred-twenty-one salamanders!"
Reid frowned. That was an immense number - and the sheer mass of the group was intimidating. But - the quest sub objectives had made the counts clear. There should be more of the regular forces. They could be hiding, waiting for stealth strikes - or they might be trying to encircle Sanctuary to get to the back gate. Even at low levels, having that many beasts surprise their forces would end poorly. They needed to know where the rest of the general forces were.
Reid's worry was answered moments later.
Familiar forms emerged from the woods behind the weaker salamanders. Each one was eight feet tall, with glowing orange eyes and light aquamarine claws. Reid wished these variants would be one of the strongest things they'd need to fight. He'd hoped they would be the 'elites' mentioned in the quest's sub-objectives. But they kept appearing. Reid swore internally when his count of the things exceeded ten.
Ten turned to dozens, then hundreds. Reid caught himself frowning. He'd taken out 30 of the level 10-12 variants during Sanctuary's final defense wave. But he'd done it in a semi-controlled environment, and there had been no one else around him to defend at the time. With this many of the things, he couldn't even occupy all of their attention. He shifted his eyes to the accountant. The man was starting to shake.
"F-f-f-five-hundred-eighty-five of the big ones!"
Reid felt his palms start to sweat. The high level variants were part of the Crimson Titan's regular forces. Sanctuary only had a handful of people outside of himself and Sara that he trusted to put down a level 10 in a fair fight. Maybe three dozen or so that could properly hold one up and allow someone else to land a kill. Ten of those, coupled with the rest of the small salamanders would've been a tough fight. Realization started to sink deeper into Reid. His eyes passed over the squads on the wall. He couldn't fight every enemy, which meant others on this wall needed to. And he didn't like their chances.
More movement snapped Reid's focus back to the tree line. A smaller number of new bodies emerged, taller than the level 10s. They had longer, brighter versions of the level 10's aquamarine crystal claws. A pair of parallel aquamarine crystalline ridges ran along each one from snout to the back of their necks. The ridges were barbed with points of varying size, and they made the salamanders look like they were sporting dual-mohawks. Reid put them at 12 feet tall, or just under.
Reid caught himself in another frown, and forced it off his face. The last thing people needed to see right now was their strongest fighter questioning their ability to win this fight. Salamander crystal was notoriously tough. Even Reid's bone weapons couldn't punch through the crystal claws they'd collected from the level 12s. Which meant getting a kill shot on the elites would require aiming around the ridges to get to the skull. Reid worried on his precision.
The elites formed a horseshoe shaped formation like a pocket in the other salamander's ranks, then vocalized at the tree line.
Massive, heavy footsteps slowly rumbled out and shook the trees.
Three figures came out of the woods first. They were another head taller than the elites. Where the elites sported dual mohawks, these - the guardians, Reid realized - had larger crystalline growths that nearly covered the entire top of their skulls. They were essentially wearing impenetrable helmets. Reid swore aloud. He'd need to kill the guardians by going through the eye - or striking up at the brain from the bottom of their jaws. The guardian's claws pulsed with energy and light, and curved crystalline blades grew out of their forearms and pointed towards their elbows.
Reid imagined fighting them. Even a missed claw strike would be deadly if one of those things swept its arm out afterwards. And the arms would be harder to remove. And he'd need to get in close for an uppercut to the brain. Or he'd need to be incredibly accurate to send a shot through their eyes. They would be damn tough to put down. Reid forced himself to calm down. He still hadn't seen everything this enemy force had to offer.
The ground continued to shake. The final figure loomed over all of its brethren as it emerged into the open. It stood as tall and as wide as a house.
Where the other salamander's eyes glowed, the Crimson Titan's burned like swirling lava. Its crimson red skin was dotted with sparkling flecks instead of the usual black spots. Its arms ended in wicked, glowing aquamarine claws that were at least four feet long. A crown of glowing crystal spikes adorned its head. Reid squared his jaw. He'd need to bury Requiem to its grip to even have a chance at hitting the Crimson Titan's brain.
The creature opened a terrifyingly large maw filled with the size of Reid's arm. It growled once, then let out a spine-shaking screech. Reid felt it prick his ethereal self as it washed over him - and for the first time since he'd gotten his resistance, Reid felt an external skill affect him. Notifications flashed. He stilled involuntarily for half a second, then stumbled as he felt himself again. All the defenders around him was still frozen - as were the low leveled salamanders. Only the elites, guardians, and Crimson Titan itself were still moving. Reid could've sworn it stared at him.
The walkie talkie squawked in Walt's hand. That was good information. At least they knew the forces in the field were out of this thing's range.
Reid checked his notifications.
WARNING! You have been paralyzed for 5 seconds by the Crimson Titan's Roar.
WARNING! This creature exceeds your level by a wide margin. Resistances and skills will be less effective against this creature.
NOTICE: You have resisted this skill. Paralyze effect reduced to 0.5 seconds.
NOTICE: Early hostilities detected in enemy force. Punitive action taken. Cooldown timer for [Crimson Titan]'s skill, [Paralyzing Roar], has been tripled.
Five seconds. That was hellishly overpowered. Even if it froze the Titan's forces, some of them would still be able to move - and it would be a death sentence for anyone close to those elites. Hell, even if people weren't in the fight, freezing up for 5 seconds at the wheel of a vehicle would make the driver crash. Reid hoped the cooldown for the skill was measured in hours.
Those around him regained themselves, and launched into action. Information was exchanged. Reserves were called forward as the vehicles were ordered to head back towards the rear gate. The salamanders' emergence from the tree line had cost them precious minutes they couldn't afford to waste. Everyone knew the simple truth. As soon as the invisible wall was down, they needed to run. Reid wrung his hands around Requiem's grip, then shouted his own orders.
"All rapid transports, back up to one of the squads on the wall! I want everyone here able to jump down and drive away as soon as things start - get every engine running five minutes before that timer expires. Any extra hands, help get the RVs turned around. I don't care if you need to drive backwards through the campground, just get moving.
Movement by the tree line caught Reid's eye. Sanctuary wasn't the only side making final preparations. The salamanders had started to move. One of the elites let out a series of grunts, and two small salamanders charged forwards until they hit the invisible wall. The elite grunted again, and a new pair flew into the invisible shield. Reid checked the timer.
Hostilities will begin in 0d 0h 52m 19s...
They had a long hour ahead of them.