The first undead to show up was a spearman that near immediately collapsed as a glowing tipped arrow drilled itself through its skull. They could still hear the small hum of Sophie’s bowstring as it reverberated. A shadow bolt took out the second opponent while the third one lost its head to a burning whip’s end.
The fallen marched forward with no care for their defeated comrades or showing any sign fear. They moved with an almost puppet like behaviour, swinging and stabbing towards their still living counterparts. A bit over two minute and nearly a dozen defeated undead later no new opponent showed up at the entrance of the small alley.
“You know,” Valerie hummed. “This sounded a lot easier when we were planning it out.”
“We’re only about thirty metres away from the gates,” Quentin noted after hearing her somewhat hidden complaint. “It should take one last push and we’ll reach the entrance to the guard towers.”
“And whoever is coordinated these god-awful attacks.” Osmond added.
“What if there are more undead on the other side of the gates?” Sophie asked with and obvious uneasiness in her voice. “If they attack us while we’re trying to deal with the archers, we’ll be caught between two fronts.”
“She’s right about that,” Amanda patted her companion’s shoulder. “We should first close the gates before heading up the towers.”
“Gates like these,” Osmond commented. “Tend to have a portcullis mechanism. “That’s usually housed above the gate itself so we’ll have to get up there through the towers if we want to close it.”
“We could first close the actual gate. Once we’re done with that, we can lower the portcullis to reinforce it.” Cruz offered her view.
“I agree,” Regis nodded. “Gate first, guard tower and portcullis second.”
“I agree too.” Khan and Valerie joined in with their opinions on the matter.
“It’s decided then.” Quentin ended the conversation. “Are you ready?”
“Let’s get this shit over with. We’ll have a hell of a time cleaning up all this mess later.” Cruz sighed as she readied the double tower shield.
The warband headed out to finish their assault on the city gates, several heavy bolts striking their shields the second after they left the safety of the alley. Each step felt like a separate battlefield as they got closer to their goal. Arrow after arrow rained down upon them with four second intervals.
The scarce few melee opponents that showed up along the way proved to be of little challenge as they were all lower ranked undead. Only a heavily armoured fallen squire proved to be a nuisance as it tried to rush at their shield wall that parted ways for it, so it could pass through without causing any harm. A fiery whip greeted the armoured bloke, along with a lightning and a shadow bolt before it was cut down to end its misery.
“Almost there!” Quentin claimed with his voice raised as the group finally got beneath the stone arch that housed the enormous gate.
The gate itself was thick and heavily reinforced, yet slightly ajar, leaving a three metre or so wide gap between the two doors. As they were now safe from the raining arrows, they could take a peak through the opening of the gate. On the other side of it, a literal small army of undead was shambling about.
“Shit.” Valerie blurted out as she immediately grabbed the left door panel, followed by Amanda as the two of them pulled at it with all they had.
“Hurry up and closed this thing!” Cruz called out to her friends as everyone moved as one, aligning the two halves of the gate while Regis and Quentin hefted up a heavy wooden beam from the side of the tower, wedging it into the socket that was bolted onto the doors.
“That was scary.” Sophie spoke with a low tone, afraid to alert the army of fallen on the other side of the gates.
“We’ll have to deal with those as well later on.”
“Let’s just leave that problem for another day, shall we?” Valerie shuddered at the thought of the more than two dozen fallen squires and several knights she thought to have seen outside the gates.
“It’s best to focus on the matter at hand,” the wannabe paladin tried to direct his companions’ thoughts towards what they could actually handle. “We have to to clear the towers and lower the portcullis to make sure that the gate will hold. After that, we’ll take out any lingering enemies we can see along the way while clearing up the mess we made.”
“And also loot and sacrifice the piles of corpses we left scattered around.” Khan reminded his righteous friend with a bright smile.
“First of all, let us catch our breath. Anyone low on arcana should try and meditate to regain what they can. If this tower looks anything like the one in which we talked with Hyord, then we’ll have an open set of stairs winding around the wall on the inside. This means that one shield at the front and two at the side should be the way the move forward.”
“It’s going to be a tight fit if we want to stay protected from any arrows that would come at our away.” Amanda stated as she yanked out a heavy bolt from her doubled shield.
“We should conserve our arcana until we’re in actual striking distance from the enemy,” the pale youth added. “It would be pointless to throw spells around blindly.”
“Any other ideas?” Quentin asked.
“Once we’re face to face against them,” Regis spoke up after regaining some of his spent energy. “I could use that greater runic ray of light spell to blast them in the face up close and personal.”
“That would certainly do some damage.” Osmond agreed as he remembered the scene with the undead shield bearers.
“We’ll see what we’re up against soon enough, but I agree that your spell should give us an edge.” Fabien nodded in agreement.
“Once we have dealt with the enemy, we’ll immediately drop the portcullis to secure the gate completely before clearing out any enemy left on the wall.” Valerie ended
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“Let’s get going then,” Sophie dusted off her armour as she headed towards the door leading inside the tower. “The sooner we can get this done, the sooner we’ll get to gather our earnings.”
“Amen to that.” Amanda nodded, lifting up the tower shield as she walked up to the front.
They barely opened the door of the tower before a heavy bolt struck the shield of the blacksmith.
“Son of a...” She tried to curse before a second shot almost drilled itself through the reinforced shield.
“You better hurry up before these fuckers breakdown our defences for good!” Cruz grumbled as the outlanders headed inside, both her and Quentin forming a shield wall at Amanda’s left side.
Everyone else stepped beside them, almost getting pasted on the wall as they made their way up the stairs. Heavy thuds reverberated in the tower every few seconds as an arrow stuck the shield wall that protected the group. Halfway up the tower, the sound of growling caught the warband’s attention as a pair of armoured brutes showed up at the top of the stairs. They began to rush towards them, and ill-fated meeting about to happen.
“Somebody stop those things!” Quentin yelled as the plate armour wearing undead battling rams were nearing there group.
With no other option left, Regis passed his staff to Osmond, preparing a spell in in each of his hands at the same time. The pair of heavily armoured fallen almost crashed into Amanda’s shield when the dark elf pushed his left hand forward from the gap between the shields, releasing a gale blast. The spell made the first undead stumble back, only to get hit in the back by the one that followed it. As the two abominations were about to fall forward, he released his second prepared spell, slightly from the side. They were hit with another gale blast that made the creatures stumble to the edge of the stairs.
“Push!” Quentin roared when he saw the opportunity presented.
The outlanders rushed forward, crashing into the armoured undead from the side, making them topple and fall over the small railing. The creatures plunged downwards, only to crash into the heavy stone floor beneath.
“I can’t believe it actually... fuck!” Amanda’s surprised words turned into a pained grunt as her momentarily lack of the attention left a wide enough gap between the shields for a heavy bolt to get through, hitting her in the shoulder.
“Amanda!” Sophie screamed as she saw her companion getting stuck by the arrow.
“Damn it,” Quentin closed the gap between the shields while simultaneously trying to stop the blacksmith from dropping hers.
“I’m alright,” the giant woman growled let the pained grunt. “Just hurry up and move!”
“Just hold on for a little while love,” Valerie tried to to staunch the bleeding with a piece of rag as she yanked out the bolt while the group pushed forward. “I’ll fix you up in a moment”
The intensity of the heavy bolts raining down on them increased as they got higher and higher on the stairs, there shields slowly beginning to break down under the onslaught.
“Almost there,” Quentin said. “Ready your light show Regis!”
As if on cue, the dark elf began to prepare the runic spell, trying his best to hold it until the last moment. When the moving shield wall finally reached into throwing distance of the near dozen undead that kept raining arrows down on them, young spell weaver pushed the glowing ball in his hand over the shields, letting it loose with a grunt. A half metre wide beam of blinding white light cut through the air in front of them, burning the upper half of the fallen, stalling them long enough for the melee fighters of the group to get into striking range.
“This is for Carl!” Khan yelled, earning a momentarily raised eyebrow from everyone as they fought off the enemy that actually proved to be fallen crossbowmen.
None of the creatures had a chance to flee in such closed surroundings, their heads either being bashed in or cut off as the pissed off outlanders released all of their pent-up anger and frustration on them. As the last of the undead crossbowmen fell at the hands of the team, the small area at the top of the stairs became quiet for a moment. The door leading towards the semi-open area where the control of the portcullis could be found what slightly ajar, beckoning them to move forward.
“Well,” Fabien let out a sigh. “This is a trap, if I’ve ever seen one.”
“Glad to see I’m not the only one with things that way,” Osmond nodded. “Whoever or whatever was leading this things should be there, waiting for us to get into its home territory.”
“Trap or not,” Amanda joined in to the conversation. “We have to get go in there either away.”
“We should at least get some rest first and replenish our strength.” Sophie panted.
“You want to just sit around with God knows what waiting for us on the other side of that door?” Khan asked aghast.
“He’s right,” Regis agreed with the young bladedancer. “We don’t know what we’re going to... fuck!”
The dark elf barely managed to drop to the ground as a crimson fire arrow whizzed through the air, aimed straight at his face.
“Son of a bitch!” Valerie cursed as she saw the retreating figure of a fallen spellcaster.
Before the others could even react, a second spell burst through the air, bringing a heavy wave of miasma with it.
“They have a necromancer.” Osmond stated as he held up his cane, only to cast a spell that created a funnel to absorb the sickening mist that was loosed on them.
“That’s it,” Amanda grit her teeth. “These bastards are going down!”
The giant blacksmith hefted the doubled tower shield in front of herself before heading towards the door.
“I guess we’re doing it then.” Khan sighed as he readied his swords, running after her with Quentin at his side.
“So much about planning things out.” Regis coughed from the leftover miasma.
He headed after his friends, focusing his mind on the ‘greater runic ray of light’ spell he readied in order to pay back for the sneak attack. On the other side of the door, a spacious room greeted him along with five undead figures. One of them wore black robe and a skull adorned staff, painting him as the staple picture of a necromancer.
The second spellcaster had an attire similar to the dark elf’s, a breastplate made out of woven leather stripes, covered with a tattered and faded crimson robe. Half of the abomination’s face was melted off, most likely a scar behind by its first counter with the necromancer when it was still alive.
The third member of the opposing team must have been a cleric once, its equipment reminiscent to the way tabletop games would depict them. It wore a chain mail armour with a torn tabard covering it. It held a hefty iron mace and shield in its hands, the head of the mace shaped like a censer.
The fourth and tallest of the group was a soldier clad in iron armour, holding a two-handed sword with a third of its tip broken off. Regis believed the last and deadliest looking of them all to be a knight of sorts, its steel plate armour adorned with some kind of a family crest on its pauldron and chest. A broken lance was sticking out at a downward angle just beneath its ribs. It held a large kite shield and a steel sword of high quality, based on its condition, shape and the lack of rust.