The outriders of watch captain Gaius Borgia arrived in Sintra with minor casualties and even lesser fanfare, finding a half dozen militia and their royal overseer at the southern gate. Alongside the most terrifying woman they’d ever heard legend of. Though she busied herself by sunning her yellow scales atop the Sintran palisades. A respite that was nearly longer than the cavaliers. Since a day of rest is all they received, then they were divided into two groups. Forty of them would travel south with empty wagons, purchasing any and all excess food they could obtain with wealth acquired from Sintra’s dead mayor. The rest would journey north, attempting to rendezvous with Lord Liam and the army he was assembling at Mont St Michel.
Several days of hard riding had brought them into contact with Liam’s rearguard, who’d been moved to tears at the sight of nearly sixty royal outriders. Completely in awe of their clean uniforms and heavy pistols. Soon thereafter the outriders became part of Liam’s vanguard, clearing the road of monsters all the way to the walls of Mont St Michel.
Their wheellock pistols made short work of hellhounds and similar creatures, hastening their journey across Greenwood with roaring smokescreens. Phaedra was particularly interested in the pistols, since they provided greater penetration than her longbow. Although she soon found the pistol’s penetration insufficient for armored targets such as the insectoid hulks and giant scorpions they encountered at odd intervals. Mostly due to her abilities as a scout.
Cavalry pistoliers… Thought Liam, that’s life on easy mode! Well, until you run out of bullets and powder. Or you miss… Each outrider only carries a few pounds of powder, and a handful of balls. They aren’t even pointed! Just round lead balls, easy enough to source and too heavy to carry more than a few shots. Lead is relatively common, since it can be smelted and worked without much heat. So they can resupply in most cities. Nifty, but more of a nuisance clearer rather than dragon slayers. Ha, ole Quetz wouldn’t even notice if we shot him. Probably bounce right off his golden feathers… Like a red ryder bb gun. Good for the occasional blood drinking squirrel, but useless for much else. Very unlike these walls…
Liam stared at the first real obstacle on his journey to Blackwood Castle, the obsidian walls of Mont St Michel. While viewing the city from beneath a yellowing oak tree. Leaves were beginning to fall, advertising winter’s ingress. His view of the city brought concern into his heart, when its closed gates and sporadic wall-top patrols of footmen should have brought peace to his soul.
Mont St Michel’s famous church was only matched by its infamous walls. Impossibly large blocks of Obsidian formed a perfect circle around the city, never varying in height or curvature. Even the gates were curved, somehow crafted to open and close despite their constant curvature. Yet seamless, perfectly monolithic, as if the obsidian had formed in one cataclysmic eruption. Similar to Greenwood Keep, but larger, reminding Liam of the great pyramids of Egypt. How the civilizations before humanity had built them was beyond human comprehension and the church’s official stance was that they had been forged from Pandora’s bones when Therun Perun Taloc slew the vile deity.
Can you even slay a god? By definition a god is permanent, you can’t kill one unless their divinity is a lie… But the fulimonimbus’ bishops attacked me, someone they supposedly owe total fealty to. What else are they lying about? Ah, I wish that golden codex Nyota borrowed would let me read it. She reads wayyyy too slow for me. I know it’s impressive for maids to read here, and she is self-taught, but I can read that whole book in the time it takes her to finish a chapter! Ugh. Whatever. If Taloc didn’t forge Pandora’s spine into this circle, how did they even get this much obsidian? I guess magic would help, and in theory you could probably fuse a bunch of small blocks of it together, but this… Is hard to even imagine. The sheer volume makes my head spin… I guess me and those creatures have that in common…
Dozens of monsters were visible at the base of the obsidian walls, hellhounds licked the stones and rubbed flaming shoulders against them. Whilst several of the insectoid hulks lumbered into the walls, pushing against them with all their strength.
“What could possess monsters to act in this manner?” Asked Liam.
“Father Matimeo could have used some manner of holy magic to confound their senses.” Offered Arlet.
“I sense no magic on them, nor does my appraisal skill. Let me hone my lightning on these beasts my lord.” Said Rhendal.
“No, You remember my first attempts at lightning! I trust your expertise, but those obsidian walls give me the willies.” Said Liam.
Rhendal and Arlet exchanged a glance and Nyota giggled. Mockingly repeating the alien word back to Liam. “Willies.”
Philistines. Thought Liam, knowing that was another reference that would be lost on them.
“They make me uncomfortable! Like someone stuck something wet and swampy down my trousers, or like someone is standing around a corner of a building and holding a brick. You know they are up to no good, but have no idea who they are waiting for. Mont St Michel is dangerous, but if it’s dangerous to us, or the monsters, is the question.” Said Liam.
“Both.” Said Nyota and Rhendal in sync.
“At least we can agree on that. Eugh, the walls feel enchanted, I see no possible benefit to hitting them with lightning and I fear their enchantment may react… Poorly. It could trigger an ancient defensive ward or something similar.” Said Liam.
“Let my daughters turn them to stone.” Offered Phaedra.
“There are guards on the wall, they may mistake you for an enemy.” Countered Arlet.
“You worry too much Arlet, my boys and I will be right next to our girls. Aint gonna let some landlocked shoemakers poke ‘em.”
“Ass if an arrow would harm uss.” Laughed Phaedra.
“Well then you can keep me safe from their hurtful words.” Said Jenkins with a wink.
“Very well, Jenkins, take the gorgons and clear the city wall. Carry a white flag with you, I do not want any casualties. Oh, and don’t use panties.” Said Liam, adding the last addendum when he saw a sparkle in Jenkin’s eye.
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“Haha! Outwitted again!” Cried Jenkins, taking Phaedra by the hand and departing.
“What are pantiesss?” Asked Phaedra.
Jenkins chuckled uncomfortably, no doubt contemplating how to best answer her question. Five gorgons and thirty Sintran militia followed the pair, creating a crescent formation with the gorgons at the center and the men guarding the flanks and rear. As formidable as the six female gorgons were, it took time for the daughters to use their gaze. They could be overwhelmed if an attack came swiftly enough or in sufficient numbers to overwhelm their eyes.
A fact that had been an unwelcome surprise along the road to Mont St Michel when a pack of eight hellhounds had managed to ambush the gorgon vanguard, wounding Theia, the green gorgon with red eyes. Since then Jenkins had begun drilling select members of his company to fight alongside the gorgons, using spears and shields as well as helmets to shore up their weaknesses.
Liam watched them go, nodding with approval as Soren and two of the royal magicians accompanied them without prompting.
We are really shaping up into a coherent fighting force. None of the commanders need to be ordered to do their duties, they just see a problem and invent solutions. I really hope Blackwood’s commander rolls over and lets us take the slaves without a fight. A protracted siege would be… well, how would Jenkin’s put it? A frostbitten forty year old virgin alone in the middle of winter? Every wrong kind of hard…
Bah, how much of an army do we have right now?
Six gorgons, although Phaedra is probably half of their strength.
Sixty or so Militia from Sintra, though most of that is Jenkin’s eighth company and freshly unemployed farmers.
Arlet and a dozen of my knights, our only heavy cavalry.
Sixty royal outriders, with their artisanal wheel-locks and spears. I still can’t believe pistols are a thing here, no matter how crude or heavy I could never have guessed gunpowder would become a thing when magic exists.
And finally, about forty Greenhaven militia brings the count of soldiers past a hundred and forty if I count myself and Nyota with them. Tis a crying shame we don’t have any other healers but Rhendal and the seven royal magicians should be enough magic to round out the army.
Baron Green would have rolled over if half this many warriors showed up, but I can’t count on Blackwood’s knight commander to play ball. He was already dragging his feet when Soren delivered the King’s letter. Dammit all, I can’t electrocute a wall. If this turns into a siege we will start off overextended and exposed.
“Arlet, I need your inner strategist. What can we do if Blackwood’s watch captain does not surrender Nyota’s children?” Asked Liam.
Arlet did not answer for several long moments. His eyes lost their sharp focus for a few seconds and he stroked his stubbly chin, staring at fluffy white clouds and rapidly hardening hellhounds.
“We cannot sustain a siege, though I doubt he has any magi capable of defending against Soren’s lot. Present company excluded Lord. They are the finest band of mages I have ever seen. It might take a week or so, but you could use their earth magicks to tear a hole in the wall and compel negotiations. Or we could hold the town hostage. Blackwood castle is surrounded by expansive suburbs. If he harms your adopted family, then I know of a practice where you nail a prisoner to a cross of wood. We could trade ten of his subjects for one of yours… I doubt he could stomach watching his kindred suffer just to spite us.” Offered Arlet with a straight face.
Crucifixion? Of civilians? Thought Liam, remind me not to run afoul of you Arlet.
“That’s too far, and doesn’t bring anyone back from the dead. If they kill the slaves then nothing we do will be a victory.” Countered Liam, appalled that Arlet has so casually suggested crucifying innocent townsfolk.
It should have been unconscionable, but this world lacked Christianity or any of the Abrahamic religions. Forgiveness was a weakness, if you won a war, you killed everyone. Genocide was the globally accepted standard, leading to fortified cities and kingdoms that kept each other at arms length.
“Then you must enter the keep undetected and free the slaves. Portal into one of the storerooms with a strike force of magi and cut throats until the slaves are freed, assuming they still live. Ah, except I don’t recall Blackwood keeping his slaves within the Keep. During our visit I saw a few of them restrained inside the pig pens.” Answered Arlet.
I know he’s only a level two strategist, but this is logically ruthless. It’s like his whole personality and all emotion disappears… Did he suggest crucifixion first to get me on board with an assassination squad? Wondered Liam.
“I am no match for your strategic mind. Your plan is as brutal as it is clever.” Said Liam, watching the gorgons petrify a bear the size of an elephant.
Phaedra’s… incredibly powerful. Thank Taloc no one told her about the medusa jerky… Ah, if we’d talked to the Gorgons back in Petra, we could have saved hundreds of people. Liam swallowed, trying to contain his tears. They’d acted swiftly and decisively, but he had done evil, and that would haunt him long past his last day on this world.
“Bah, you worry too much, Renosipe assured me that the slaves would be treated fairly, and that they were gathering them from across the county. I know patience isn’t a virtue you are acquainted with, but have some faith in us old magi.” Added Rhendal.
“I trust you with my life Rhendal, but that man, Renosipe… feels like a snake, and not one of our lovely gorgon allies.” Began Liam.
“Ha! Neither do I! A grandmaster attains their station through plots and cunning, not through magical might. You can only trust him as far as his goals align with your own.” Interrupted Rhendal.
“Are we a good match then?” Asked Liam, his brow furrowing.
Rhendal was silent for several long moments. “Renosipe always says he is loyal to a single person in this world… A person who is not himself, nor Taloc. So I’m not sure… But if he meant to move against us he could have done so at court, for example, he knows the lightning affinity specializes in piercing defenses and killing swiftly. Yet he sent a battle mage who, while gifted offensively, specialized in defense. Normally a sound choice, but a more cunning option would have been to send a battle mage who focused on speed or deflection, especially after seeing the archbishop’s failures.”
“Do you think he sacrificed his man deliberately? Why- ” Asked Liam.
“It is a possibility. Though he would not have sacrificed such a skilled battle mage without an equally worthy reward waiting for him no matter the outcome. Which is why I think he means to aid us, a Lightning Lord is a herald of change, and a man like Renosipe plans to be on the winning side, along with his master, whomever that is.” Said Rhendal.
“So he is playing both sides…” Grumbled Liam.
“Indubitably. Though he is playing his cards close, I am certain he is operating with more information than we are. Ah, here comes Jenkins.” Finished Rhendal.
Sure enough, the gorgons and their escort were coming around the far side of the city.
“Something is off, I see none of the city watch with them. Mont St Michel could not have endured without armed men on their wall.” Said Arlet with a frown.
“It troubles me as well, Jenkins should have encountered the city guard. Arlet, can you get the gates open?” Asked Liam.
“Can I get the gates open? Ha, as if I don’t know how to bypass every gate and wall in the barony! Yes m’lord!” Said Arlet, setting off at a jog.