Jan and Heath are still jumping around in excitement when the ringing of the warning bell reaches them.
The excitement from Heath’s new found spell is completely lost, as the boys wordlessly begin racing back toward town.
The boys ran with more vigor than in their entire lives, not easing up even as their feet hit the cobblestone road of town.
The two come to a stop as the sight of Mister Kopek’s forge comes into view, men and women already gathered as the blacksmith hands out the weapons from the cache of militia gear that had been placed there for times such as this.
Another man hands out leather jerkins and arm and shin guards.
They would offer little resistance against the monsters, but when it was a fight for life every bit helped.
The boys slowly wormed their way through the small crowd coming before the blacksmith.
Mister Kopek eyes the two boys before him.
The blacksmith grabs his son’s arm, giving it a squeeze feeling the firmness of Jan’s muscles.
With a grunt of approval, the heavyset man thrust a spear and small roundshield in Jan’s arms, before turning a discerning eye at Heath.
“Ya bonded.”
“Got spells yet?”
Stumbling over his words, Heath confirms stuttering, “ Uh…yeah…s-sir. I..kn-now one s-spell.”
With a grunt, Mister Kopek shoves a spear and shield to match Jan’s at Heath.
Heath fumbles with them before gaining a grip just as he is pushed from the line by the next person in line.
Before he can get his bearings the other man, the town baker Holt, drops a jerkin and a set guards into Heath's already full arms.
Heath stumbles back bumping into Jan.
The two boys share an anxious look.
“Guess we’re militia now.”, Jan says with a nervous edge to his voice, placing his equipment on the ground, beginning to pull the jerkin over his dirty wool shirt.
“Looks like.”, Heath replies. This is what he had wanted, but now that it was happening he was scared, could he actually fight monsters.
Following Jan’s lead, he drops his stuff and begins putting on the minimum armor he had been given.
As Heath gets the jerkin past his head, two strong hands turn him around, bringing the boy face to face with his father.
“Heath, what are ya doin?”, his father asks, eyes shifting from the jerking to the equipment at Heath’s feet.
The sudden shock eases as he looks into his father’s worried face.
“We were out in the field trying to figure out my magic when the bell began to ring. We ran back here and were given militia gear.”
“Take it off, ya can help after ya had some training.”, his father says tugging at the jerkin’s hem.
“Sorry Karl, but the boy is needed.”, a strong voice says, accompanied by the sound of metal hitting metal.
The father and son turn to sources of the voice, it was Garren, the head of the town guard, the sword at his hip hitting against the man’s half plate armor.
“I know you’re just worried for the boy after what happened during the last surge.”
“So ya understand I don’t want him in the thick of it just yet.”, the woodcutter states, meeting the other man’s hard gaze with his own.
The armored man steps closer and says in a softer voice, “Karl, I do understand, but the scouts are saying this wave is bigger than the last. We need every able body we can get. We can put him and the other boy in the back.”
Heath’s father sized up the other man, jaw clenched.
“Karl is the best I can do. If I let one sit out the fight, others will want out too. Putting them in the back is the best I can do. We have time to get ready this time around, with trekkers, guards, and the rest of the militia between them and the surge, they should be fairly safe.”
Heath watched his father, noticing his hands clenched into fist, arms bulging with tense energy.
Heath placed a hand on his father’s arm, causing the man to jump slightly, seeing it was Heath, he relaxed some.
“Pa, It’s okay. I got Jan to watch my back. I’ll go.”
His father just stared at him for a second, before letting the tension drop.
Turning back to Garren, his father nods, “Fine.”.
The guardsman removes the hand that had found its way to his sword hilt, “ Thank you, Karl.”
Turning away from the other man, Heath’s father bends down and begins to help tie the shin and arm guards on Heath.
“Pa..”
Picking up the shield and strapping it to Heath’s left arm, his father tells him, “Keep ya back to the village. If a monster gets to ya, I want ya and Jan to move to either side of it and hit at the same time. If it looks like ya are gonna get overrun, I want ya to run as fast as ya can to the trekker’s guild. Garren be damned.”
“Pa, I..”
“Say ya’ll do as I say. Say it!”, his father demanded with a firm grip on Heath’s arms.
“I’ll do as you say Pa.”
“Good.”
His father grimly nods as Mister Kopek comes over, already dressed in his leather jerkin, armed with a massive hammer.
The blacksmith hands Karl an ax with a gleaming new edge.
“Jan ya do the same.”, Mister Kopek tells his son.
“Yes Da.”
“Thank you, Walter.”, Karl says, taking the ax, gripping it with both hands.
The blacksmith grunts.
The voice of Garren booms through the street, “Alright, the trekkers should already be in the field. You all know your part to play in this. Spearmen … “
“And spearwomen! “, a woman calls from the crowd, causing a small bout of laughter to spread through the gathered people.
The small moment of levity easing some of the tension that filled the air.
Garren lets out his own small chuckle, “Yes, of course. And spearwomen will form a line behind the trekkers. The rest of you will assist as needed moving from place to place. The archers will fire from behind. Should anyone get too injured to continue, call for assistance and someone will drag them to the ill-tenders. Myself and the guards will join the trekkers in the vanguard.”
“All of those here have survived more surges than anyone should have too. We owe it not only to our families we fight to protect, but for those no longer with us.”
“TO BATTLE! WE MARCH!”
A sudden surge of strength comes over Heath, his grip more secure on the shaft of his spear, his back straighter, and his footing shifting to allow for better mobility.
“AHHHHHH!”
The gathered militia cheer in response, Heath finding himself doing the same.
As a unit they march toward the open field, with Garren leading them.
Jan and Heath follow the others from the rear, as they reach the field, they can see twenty or so trekkers already gathered.
Heath looks around and sees others marching out from the town to join them.
Far off in the distance he can see his mother and several others with a knack for healing, setting up a place for the future injured. Four guards stand watch over the healers as they set up.
Soon everyone is gathered, the guardsmen following Garren to stand with the trekkers. Two lines, forty each, of spear men and women take formation, the firstline taking to one knee, shields raised with their spears planted sticking out low. The second line raising their shields over the first's, spears posed to strike out at coming foes.
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Thirty irregulars armed with axes, hammers, and swords, stand behind and just to the side of the lines, weapons at the ready, bodies loose and ready to move at a moment's notice.
Bringing up the rear stands thirty archers, arrows notched and bows raised into the air, waiting for the order to fire.
Amongst them all in the middle stands Jan and Heath, spears in hand, both trying to not let their knees shake as the adrenaline courses through their veins.
Then they waited. A silence falls over the defenders of Scozeg, as the setting sun casts long shadows amongst the trees. A bead of sweat rolls down Heath’s brow dripping into his left eye causing it to sting.
Heath doesn’t dare move to wipe at his eye, afraid of breaking the stillness of the moment.
The sound of his own heartbeat thumping in his ears.
Suddenly a gust of wind blows over the field, pushing the tall grass in waves, the air brushes Heath’s face, his hair whipping around.
There’s movement in the treeline as bushes and trees shake. Heath holds his breath in anticipation.
The sound of shifting grips and feet can be heard across the field. Then a man in leather armor with a bow strung over his back, comes bursting from the forest.
It's a town scout that patrols the surrounding area for signs of incoming attacks.
The man, who Heath believes to be Jakub the most seasoned of the scouts, runs at a full sprint toward the gathered force.
Heath can barely hear the man’s yelling, over his own heartbeat, “Incoming! They’re on my heels!”.
The scout is almost to the line of trekkers, when from behind him the first of the monsters break through the trees, a four foot long bloated lizard of dull browns and greens, standing at two feet tall, its spindly legs jutting out, its four-clawed feet flinging up tufts of dirt and grass as it races across the open field.
The first creature is ten feet from the treeline when a mass of the creatures come swarming out of the forest, quickly closing the distance between them and the waiting force.
A single arrow wizzes through the air, spirals of air twisting around the arrow's head.
The arrow makes impact with the lizard in front, hitting it between the eyes.
The creature’s head explodes, pieces of bone and flesh pepper the creatures behind blood staining the grass as the now headless body drops, skidding along the grass before coming to a stop.
“HOLD YOUR FIRE!”, someone yells from the front, Heath thinks it's Garren, but can’t tell.
He looks on as the corpses of the monster begin to deflate, green mist leaking out from the gaping hole where a head once was.
A pungent odor that speaks of stagnant water, mold, and rot, waphs over the field, causing many to cough uncontrollably.
Heath watches with fear as the horde of creatures nearly reaches the trekkers when the same voice from earlier yells, “FIRE!”
The twang of bowstrings answer the call followed by the whistling of arrows as they arc overhead, Heath involuntarily jerks his head up tracking the projectiles as they rain down on the charging creatures.
Arrows pierce the backs of the bloated lizards, more of the putrid mist hisses out of the wounds with far more intensity.
“FIRE!”
Another wave of air flew overhead, slamming into the lizards.
This time the arrows are followed by bolts of various colors and shapes.
One of the trekkers lets out a cone of fire with plans to roast the lizards before they could get closer.
When the fire and mist came into contact the reaction was instantaneous.
The green mist that was spreading across the battlefield ignited.
The wave of pressure from the resulting explosion sent both front line fighters and the monsters flying backwards.
“BAAAAM! WHOOSH!”
The echoing blast leaves Heath’s ears ringing as he stands eyes locked in on the spreading fire. More explosions erupt around the field, as groups of the lizards succumbed to the previous blast they would let out more mist causing a cascading effect.
BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!BOOM!
Those of the frontline that had survived were knocked back again by the continual bombardment of pressure.
The spearmen scramble to break formation in fear they would impale those being sent toward them by the explosions.
Still more than one person found themselves on the wrong end of a friendly spear.
The disorganized combatants rush back sporadically, in the panic Heath and Jan find themselves knocked to the ground.
Heath curls up into a ball, spear lost when he fell, Heath holds the shield over himself best he can.
Someone uses his shield to propel themselves forward. The shield slams into Heath’s side from the sudden weight, knocking the wind from his lungs.
His eyes burst open as air rapidly leaves his body, spittle flying from his mouth.
Heath rolls onto his hands and knees gasping from air, choking on the still rancid odor that was left behind by the dying monsters.
Behind him, a wall of flames separates the surviving forces from the tree-line.
Someone grabs Heath by the arm and drags him to his feet.
It was Heath’s father, his arms the texture and color of smooth dark wood.
Heath sees his father’s lips move, but can only hear ringing.
“WHAT!”
His father cringes and speaks again looking as if he was yelling. Still all Heath hears is the ringing.
“I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE RINGING PA!”
Pressing a hand into Heath’s back, his father began to guide Heath the direction of his mother and other healers were already tending to the injured.
The two barely make it ten feet toward the healers when they suddenly stop, Heath looks to his father.
The taller man is looking at the rallying group of defenders with Garren in front, worse for wear, but alive.
Heath can tell the man is yelling, but not what about, when they suddenly begin charging straight at Heath and his father.
His father whips his head back toward the wall of flames that raged on casting a red and orange glow staturating Heath’s world.
Heath could see them, the lizards on the other side of the fire spilling forward.
Suddenly, he hits the ground as his father pushes him down, gripping his ax with both hands charging toward the monsters as they burst through the flames.
The men and women of Scozeg follow after his father, their own weapons raised.
Heath watches as the two opposing forces slam into each other, metal slicing through scale-hide as claws and jagged teeth rip into flesh.
The sky overhead grows dark as Heath feels the first drop of rain splat against his cheek.
Looking up he can see storm clouds gathering and swirl around them.
For the second time in mere minutes, Heath is dragged to his feet.
This time by a wounded Jan, blood spilling from a gash on the side of his head.
Jan says something that he can’t makeout.
“JAN! I CAN’T HEAR YOU! MY EARS ARE RINGING!
Jan points up toward the sky as a torrent of rain begins to come down. Jan then points back at a man in blue robes waving his arm at the sky, pale yellow and blue energy engulfing his hands and shining from his eyes.
Heath looks back at Jan who gestures to the field, steam drifting across the battling forms of monsters and men, but no fire.
The ringing in his ears begins to dissipate, just enough for him to hear Jan’s next words, “ We need to fight!”
“I lost my spear!”, he yells over sounds of battle and pounding rain, never before happier to hear the sound of his own voice.
“Use ya magic.”
“Won’t that cause another explosion!”
“Na! The robbed trekker said the rain would help with the mist!”
“I don’t know Ja-”
Heath cuts out mid sentence as something knocks Jan to the ground.
A lizard was on top of Jan snapping at his face, the boy only holding it back with his shield arm as his spear and other arm was pinned beneath him.
Heath rushes at the struggling pair without thinking, with a lift of his boot he kicks the monster in the ribcage, knocking it off of Jan.
Jan sprang after it, spear gripped just behind the head, he plants the spear head in the back of the stunned creature’s neck bringing his full weight down on it as it trashed about in its death throes.
When the creature finally stopped moving, Jan turned to Heath, “Thanks, I th-Behind you!”
Heath turned just as the open maw of the creature came straight at him.
He brings his shield up, the shield face striking the thing's jaw, pain from the strike vibrates through Heath’s arm and into his shoulder.
Fighting on, Heath sees the lizard struggling on its back trying to flip over, the feeling of fire growing inside him, begging to be used, he thrusts his arm out and says, “Fire Bolt! Fire Bolt! Fire Bolt!”
Three identical arrows of flame strike the lizards soft underbelly, blasting a hole in its stomach. A gout of fire erupts from the dead creature’s limp jaws with a flash.
Heath turns back to Jan fighting another one of the creatures.
Jan stabs at the creature keeping its snapping mouth at bay,when the creature spins around its whip tail smacking into Jan’s right leg.
As he drops to the ground, various scales along the thing’s back lift up and a condense spray of the green mist engulfs Jan.
Heath rushes forward as its mouth clamps down on Jans forearm.
A sickening wet crack is quickly followed by screaming. Jan beats the creature in the head with his shield’s edge.
The sound of Jan’s screams attracts the attention of another one of the lizards, before Heath can raise his hand to fire off a spell, the new attacker rips into Jan’s shoulder.
As his friend’s screams grow louder, Heath charges.
Heath slams into the creature on Jan’s arm, using all his weight to dislodge it.
The two tumble away from Jan and the other monster several feet before stopping.
The monster tries to spray Heath with its green mist, but as the scales lift up he slaps his hand over one of the openings and yells, “Fire Bolt!”
A shudder reverberates through the lizards as the flammable mist ignites, roasting it alive from the inside.
Pushing off the muddy ground, Heath rushes back to Jan the lizard still at his shoulder, the jerking of its head shaking Jan’s entire body.
Heath sees a broken spear nearby, wasting no time he grabs the spear and jumps on the back of the lizard bringing the spear down with both hands.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”Heath roars as the metal punctures the hide of his foe, severing its spinal cord.
Heath lets go of the broken spear shaft, with a hand on either jaw he pries its mouth from his friend.
Rolling the creature away, he drops next to Jan.
Heath sits over his bleeding friend, who had gone silent from shock.
Jan’s wandering eyes meet Heath’s, “Hii Heath.”
“Hi Jan”
“Heath, I don’t feel so good.”
Heath shouts over his shoulder, “WE NEED A HEALER!”.
Heath turned to Jan, “Don’t worry, help on the way.”
“HEALER!”
“That’s nice..”, Jan says with a smile as his eyes slowly close.
Heath gently shakes Jan, “ Jan? Jan?”
No!No!No! Jan was not going to…. No!
“HEALER!”
Around the two boys, almost men, the sounds of battle come to an end.
The last of the monsters is killed.
The people of Scozeg had won against the monsters, but at a cost.
“HEALER!”