“Either way,” Osmond hummed. “We should try to deal with our own situation before meddling with others’ affairs. Did you manage to create those golems?”
“I did,” Regis nodded. “They should have arrived at the mountain pass by now.”
“Golems?” Sophie looked at them puzzled.
“The statues Regis ask me to create.” Mary cleared it up for her friend.
“So we now have a pair of giant war golems as our gatekeepers.” Valerie remarked with a visibly elated expression.
“And a trio of ballistas waiting for some extra enchantments.” Regis added.
“That would help even the odds if they decide to bring an army to our doorstep.”
“Alright,” Quentin sighed. “I think we still have a lot to do before nightfall, so we should get going.”
“Agreed,” the loremaster nodded. “I still have a shit-load of enchanting to do. See you later.”
Saying that, he left the town hall toward Landwaker Square where he used the gateway to teleport over to the mountain pass. As he went outside, he saw the guards nervously patrolling the barbicans with the pair of golems standing not far behind the gates.
“Milord!” The soldiers snapped to attention as soon as they noticed him.
“At ease,” he waved them down. “Any change?”
“Not from the outside, but these two things showed up not long ago.”
“I know,” he nodded. “I sent them here.”
“You mean...”
“These two are going to be our new gatekeepers.”
The guards became somewhat more relaxed after hearing the news.
“Carry on with your duties. I still have a lot to do with those golems.”
“Understood, sir!” They replied as the loremaster walked down the stone stairs.
Regis stepped beside one of the golems and pulled out a couple of elemental crystals from his satchel. He placed his hand on the statue and closed his eyes, the golem’s runic pathways appearing in his mind space. During the following hour, he infused several lesser and greater enchantments into the golems, ranging from the usual durability and armour-increasing ones to the crushing damage increasing and even a respective fire and lightning elemental ones. By the time he was finished, the golems looked far more menacing in the waning sun’s light than they did before. Charlatan’s wisdom revealed the result of the dark elf’s hard work, making him let out a content sigh.
{Inferno Granite War-golem}
{Rarity: rare}
{Quality: well-made}
{Durability: 1250}
{Defence: 115}
{Damage: 150}
{Elemental resistance: 20 on all}
{Fire elemental damage: 20}
{Stormbound Granite War-golem}
{Rarity: rare}
{Quality: well-made}
{Durability: 1250}
{Defence: 115}
{Damage: 150}
{Elemental resistance: 20 on all}
{Lightning elemental damage: 20}
“That ought to do it,” He said as he looked at his handiwork, then up to the fast-darkening sky. “I should get things finished here. Open the gates!”
“Yes, sir!” The guards acknowledged before opening the large gate.
Once they were open, the dark elf wakened the golems once again.
“Follow me,” he ordered before walking through the gates. “You stand guard there and you stand there.”
The golems walked over to where he pointed and assumed a guard stance.
“Slumber.” Regis said and the runic outlines faded on the golems as they shut down.
He returned to the inner side of the gates which the guards quickly closed and barred. The dark elf went up to the battlements where the soldiers had already marked the spot for the three ballistas. He conjured a stone block just big enough for the moving parts to fit on and the guards put the first ballista in its place. Regis sealed the oversized weapon in place, prompting the soldiers to do a test shot. The large iron-tipped bolt shot forward with great force, hitting a tree’s trunk about a hundred metres from the gates.
“Not bad,” the loremaster remarked. “Now for the other two.”
The other ballistas got their stone platform as well and Regis spent a good hour and a half infusing the weapons with a couple of enchantments. By the end of it, they were subtly glowing thanks to the green runes dotting them here and there.
{Steel-reinforced recurve ballista}
{Rarity: uncommon}
{Quality: well-made}
{Durability: 125}
{Damage: 175}
‘Alright, that should do it.’ He thought while looking at the weapon’s stats.
“Keep up the good work and send word if anything changes.” Regis said while heading toward the hidden gateway of the guard post.
“Understood, milord.”
Back in Thornfell, the atmosphere was even heavier than before. The inn barely had any people staying there to drink, despite it being the time for it. Scarcely a soul moved about on the streets along the way to Obelisk Square. After returning to the manor, the dark elf had little energy left so he decided to take a bath and to turn in for the night as fast as possible.
He spent the following three days working to replenish the exploding arrows he had to give to Zola as well as creating his arcane landmines. On the afternoon of the fourth day, Regis stopped his crafting spree when he heard a knock on the door of his workshop, Euric’s voice coming from the other side.
“Apologies for disturbing you,” he said. “But a messenger arrived from Lady Zola. He is waiting for you at the mountain pass.”
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“All right, thank you.” The loremaster replied as he put down the half-finished item before returning to his room to gear up, leaving toward Landwaker Square.
As he teleported over to the secret room behind the guard room of the mountain pass, he found the same man waiting in front of the gates he met a few days before. The guards let in the rider who jumped off his horse and handed over a letter with hasty moves. Regis broke the wax seal and read the message, his brows creasing into a frown.
“Shit,” he said while looking at the messenger. “Take care of him and his mount. I have to return to the others.”
Saying that the dark elf walked up the stairs back to the guard post and used the hidden gateway to teleport back to Thornfell. As soon as he arrived, Regis activated his far-caller to connect with the other outlanders.
“I just received a letter from Zola,” he spoke to no one in particular, his enchanted earpiece conveying his words to the rest of the team. “An army appeared on their borders, marching towards them at a steady pace. They have likely already arrived by now. I’m heading over to see what’s the situation. Does anyone want to come with me?”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” He heard Quentin’s voice responding through the far-caller.
“Give me a few minutes to gear up.” Amanda replied.
“Same here.” He heard Fabien and Sophie before Cruz chimed in as well.
“Be careful Regis!” Letty pleaded through the arcane earpiece, his heart aching at the worry in her tone.
About five minutes later everyone arrived armed to the teeth and ready to go. Regis opened the barrier of the gazebo to let them in before activating the gateway once again. They found themselves staring at a very nervous guard as soon as they arrived.
“Lord Regis!” The man recognized him and became visibly relieved.
“What’s the situation?” The loremaster asked the soldier, the man snapping to attention.
“The enemy showed up on our borders a few hours ago. They arrived at our gates a good two hours before and tried to order us to surrender, but Lady Zola refused.”
“Had the battle already started?” Quentin inquired as the guard led them toward the main gate of Mistfield.
“I don’t know, sir. I wasn’t there personally but one of my squad members came by after I heard an explosion and told me that the enemy decided to retreat beyond our archers’ range.”
While talking, the group reached its destination, the small army of Mistfield nervously waiting nearby for their orders. Zola was easy to recognise as she walked back and forth in front of a nearby stall that had been commandeered temporarily to house the impromptu military council.
“Regis,” the loremaster heard a familiar voice as Galen stepped out of the small crowd of the emergency meeting. “I’m glad to see you decided to join us.”
“How’s the situation?”
“Hard to tell,” the mage advisor sighed. “Our inside man returned from Lord Arlo’s territory with the news of an impending attack just before dawn. They appeared just after sunrise, slowly marched over then they tried to force us into surrender, but their bravado ended as soon as their leader died.”
“How did that happen?” Amanda blurted out. “Your guardsman said that there were no battles yet.”
“Lord Arlo, his knight commander and his mage advisor rode forward to state their intent of conquering Mistfield under the permission of Prince Merron,” Zola began to explain the situation. “He wanted to give a speech about how he didn’t want to kill our people but was willing to do so if it meant taking the town. Both Desimir and Galen advised me to order an immediate attack using your enchanted exploding arrows and I did so. The result was... unexpected.”
“What happened?” Sophie asked, already dreading the answer.
“His mage managed to block the first arrow, but the second one broke through and the third one hit Lord Arlo in the chest. He... didn’t survive. The explosion was strong enough to harm both his commander and his mage as well. They barely managed to retreat outside of our archers’ range and their army didn’t make any move since then.”
“There’s nothing surprising about that,” Quentin remarked apprehensively. “Their leader had just died and in quite a brutal fashion as well. That must have shattered their morale.”
“Not to mention screwing up the chain of command.” Fabien added.
“So what are you going to do now?” Regis asked the young noblewoman. “You can’t just wait for them to snap out of it and regain their bearing.”
“That is what I have been telling to her ladyship,” old Desimir sighed. “Now is the perfect time to show our strength and to force them either to retreat or to surrender for good. If we let them get over the death of their lord, they might decide to attack us like mad dogs.”
“Agreed,” the infernal knight nodded. “If you can make them believe that the death of their lord wasn’t just a stroke of luck but a show of your power, then you should be able to make them surrender.”
“And how do you suggest we do that?”
“Ride out the same way as Lord Arlo did, but with a group of archers backing you up.”
“What if they decide to attack her Ladyship?” One of the soldiers objected immediately.
“Would you try to attack someone who’s backed up by archers who have the same explosive arrows that killed your leader?
“N... no.” The man replied after a moment of hesitation.
“Exactly.”
“Do you want us to go with you?” Regis asked.
“No,” the young woman shook her head. “It would be best if they do not know you are involved.”
“Fine,” the dark elf sighed. “But if there’s any sign of trouble, turn around and ride like hell. We’ll cover you as soon as you get into range.”
“Ready the horses,” Zola ordered her soldiers. “We are riding out!”
“At once.” One of the soldiers responded before rushing away to convey her orders.
A few minutes of strained silence later a dozen horses were brought over and Zola mounted one along with Desimir and Galen. The rest of the horses were soon mounted by archers before the gates were opened. Regis and his friends headed up to the barbicans atop the gates, using a bronze spyglass to watch the riders approach the enemy forces. The archers stopped a bit back, readying their weapons with the enchanted arrows trained at the enemy.
Although the team couldn’t hear what was spoken over at the invading army, they could see some of the soldiers running into one of the tents bringing out an injured knight and mage. After a few minutes, the knight drew his sword, only to stab it into the ground, giving a deep bow to Zola before raising his hand with a gesture. The enemy soldiers turned around and packed up, marching away, leaving behind any already raised structures. Zola and the rest rode back, the gates opening to welcome them.
“So, how did it go?” Regis couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“It went slightly better than we expected.” Galen admitted after a sigh.
“I ordered them to surrender and retreat immediately,” Zola explained. “I also told them that if they do so now, then we will not retaliate for their actions as it was under their lord’s order.”
“And they surrendered just like that?” Sophie looked at her puzzled.
“They did not really have a choice in the matter,” Desimir remarked. “Lord Arlo was quite the heavy-handed lord, his men did not dare to refuse his orders but now that he perished, they can return home and his son can succeed him.”
“And what makes you so sure that his son won’t decide to avenge the man after he inherited the title of Lord and solidified his position?”
“Because I know him,” Zola replied with surprising confidence. “Arnold was always a scholarly type much to his father’s dislike. They never got along and in recent years it became so bad that Lord Arlo only kept him around because he was yet to find a family to marry him off to. If anything, Arnold might be thankful for things turning out the way they did. Besides, I might have told them that the arrows that killed Lord Arlo were part of the hundreds my father had secretly stocked up throughout the years.”
“Clever move.” Quentin nodded in approval.
“Are you sure it’s going to be alright?” Sophie looked at her in disbelief. “I mean... no matter how bad things were between the two, he was his father after all.”
“Not every family is filled with love,” Fabien sighed as he tried to switch subjects. “So anyway, does that mean that the threat is over?”
“For now,” Galen remarked. “Even if we have repelled one noble family, there is still the other one to look out for.”
“Well,” Regis hummed. “Since we’re no longer needed, we should get going. Send a message if anything changes.”