General Branson strode into the conference room with a grim look on his face. The situation was rapidly becoming more than they could handle. ‘How are they already prepared with invasion rifts? How long have they been planning this?’ he wondered.
Taking his place at the head of the table, he glared at the commanders re-taking their seats. Normally, the respectful atmosphere was appreciated, but wasn’t currently in the mood for it. As a result of his poor mood, his voice was unusually harsh when he barked, “All right, I’ve read the reports, but I want to hear what happened from the beginning. Explain to me, in detail, what in the infinite hells is happening outside our walls.”
One of the commanders shot to his feet, then waved his hand and several holographic screens appeared hovering over the large conference table. Below them, a 3d model of the mountain appeared, complete with a rendering of the city near the bottom. The model seemed to zoom-in until only one area small area was highlighted.
The commander’s tone was devoid of levity as he began his presentation, “Approximately three hours ago, Survey Team 24 began construction on their primary base-camp. At that time, everything checked out fine. The location, potential site A, was confirmed empty of enemy forces, and the team’s captain proceeded according to his orders.
“Two hours later, as the team was still working on the preliminary wall and communications tower, one of ST 24’s soldiers was somehow able to perceive an enemy force hidden behind an illusionary field. Once they -”
General Branson’s voice interrupted harshly, “That! That right there! I want you to elaborate on that. How did some soldier manage to scry through the kobald’s damn masking spell when our very own Tower of Magic can’t?”
The commander’s professional mask didn’t crack in the slightest, and he replied simply, “We have no idea, sir.”
Not liking the answer at all, the general rubbed his temples and tried to calm down.
Whatever the kobalds had been doing to hide their forces was something that had been giving him a headache ever since this all began. The Tower of Magic didn’t have any answers, and that damn Arch-mage refused to offer any insights without an official request for aid. Although he understood the principle behind the separation of city and kingdom, he didn’t have to like it. Despite the legalities involved, the fact that the man was willing to sit on his ass and watch as the kobalds played them all for fools, all the while refusing to provide any answers was almost more than he could take.
After seeing that the general wasn’t going to say anything else, the commander continued, “When the enemy realized that their deception had been seen through, they attacked. The captain on-site, Captain Angelton, reported contact and requested support. As ST 24’s location was rather close to the walls, reinforcements began gathering.”
The general’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He hadn’t bothered to read the details of ST 24’s troop compliment. ‘It was Angelton’s team? Howard was with them, wasn’t he? Perhaps a war-mage in close proximity to the illusion was enough to disrupt it. It’s too bad we’ll probably never find out,’ he thought to himself.
The commander’s presentation continued, “The Tower of Magic was immediately informed of what was happening, and our surveillance mages activated the scrying apparatus at full power, providing real-time intelligence at ST 24’s location. Even with all the essence disruptions causing some problems, we were able to get a good idea of what is happening. As you can see, the enemy force is significant,” he said, while gesturing to the recorded images being shown on the holographic screens.
One of the screens grew in size, and the commander said, “If you look here, you’ll see that the enemy forces were hiding in an artificial tunnel they had dug out from the mountain. We currently are unable to see how far down it goes, but we have reason to believe it was their intention for their forces to specifically reach the wilds.”
The general examined the screen closely, frowning at how many kobalds were streaming out of the mountain’s depths. He once again interrupted the commander by asking loudly, “Why were they trying to get to the wilds?”
The commander seemed to be expecting the question, and promptly switched out the primary screen’s image. “We believe it was because of this,” he said.
The holographic screen now showed an overhead view of several large paving stones being arranged with some difficulty by the kobalds. On the stones, clearly displayed, were runic carving indicating some sort of spell-array.
“We cross-referenced the completed array with the records of previous kobald sightings in the archives of the Tower of Magic. It was determined that the spell-array closely resembles other array’s inteded to form a planar gate. We believe the original intention of the array was to link the mountain-city with their ancestral home,” he said.
The general pointed at one of the screens which now showed a giant rift portal to one of the fire-planes, and said harshly, “That is NOT a planar gate.”
Replying quickly, the commander said, “No, sir. It’s not. The spell-array isn’t viable as it is. We believe that the kobalds intended to take advantage of the region’s ethereal instability in order to make-up for their limited magical capabilities. With the aid of their shamans, they siphoned off the souls of their dead to provide enough potential to activate the array. As the wilds were primed for it, the array was able to open a rift. It may not be the gate they’d hoped it would be, but it serves their purpose well enough.”
Changing the projection once again, he continued, “As you can see, their forces on the other side were not prepared for the rift to open at this time, and they are currently just trying to come through as fast as they can. This is in no way a coordinated invasion, and their forces are wasting a lot of time attempting to get themselves in order now that they’ve arrived on our plane.”
Nodding at the commanders conclusion, the general asked, “I see what you mean. This whole situation seems either poorly executed, or possibly unplanned. I don’t think they prepared for their invasion to start like this.”
The commander replied, “No, sir. After careful analysis of what we’ve seen, we believe we’ve figured out their endgame.”
Interested, the general asked, “Which is?”
Folding his hands at his waist, the commander stood up straight and said, “Most likely, there are several of these exit tunnels currently being hidden outside the walls. At some time in the future, the kobalds were planning to unleash their forces all at once. Instead of dealing with one invasion point, we’d be dealing with several. It’s possible that they already have a gate open in the mountain city, and these rifts are just a means to terraform the surface and deliver their siege toops without having to fight through our defensive lines currently guarding the mountain gate.”
The general sat in thought, unhappy with what he was hearing. The possibility of enemy troops hiding in the mountains was the last thing Dorchester needed at the moment.
Tapping his finger on the table as he thought through what he’d heard, he looked up at the commander and asked, “What does the Tower of Magic have to say about their inability to pierce the kobald’s illusion spells?”
The commander replied, “They say it’s not a spell, it’s a technique. Somehow the kobalds are able to display a false identity over an area. In reality, they are just displaying a delayed view of what used to happening. What the ‘illusion’ is showing, is only what ‘used’ to be there. Currently, they are working on an upgrade to the scrying apparatus in the tower which should compensate for the false essence projection. Adept Newbanks promises that it will be complete within 3 weeks time.”
The general recalled what the arch-mage had told him, “Dorchester already has all the tools needed to overcome this challenge, but if you’d like to request aid, then I’ll back your play. However, I’d seriously recommend waiting to see how this little game progresses before you make any rash decisions. After all, the last thing you want to do is to sacrifice the city in the hopes of saving it.”
The commander gasped in shock, and muttered, “That’s impossible!”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
His thoughts interrupted, the general looked up to see what the commander was talking about. He looked at one of the screens, showing the final moments of the rift breaking apart like a monster-corpse diffusing into the ether.
Confused, the general asked, “What happened? What am I looking at?”
The commander stuttered a little, unsure of how to respond, “I’m not sure, sir. It seems that ST24 succeeded in their mission to close the rift? I think?”
The general checked his link, quickly referencing the reports he’d been given, then replied, “In my summary it says that ST 24 was wiped out after the rift opened?”
The commander was still staring dumbly at the holographic screen, and replied without looking away, “We issued orders for them to try and prevent the summoning from happening, and just assumed that they’d die during the attempt. But, it looks like they’re still fighting… and maybe winning?”
The general took control of the screens with his link, then expanded the current view of the battlefield. He could see a small contingent of humans surrounded by a sea of kobalds. There were so many kobalds it was hard to see ST 24, and if it weren’t for the spell blooms and shields covering their position, he probably wouldn’t have been able to locate them at all. Zooming in, he watched them obliterating the kobalds in droves. All of the sudden, the amount of magic being unleashed caused the image to flicker. When it stabilized, he saw a hole in the kobald horde. As the smoke cleared, he could see an entire section of the horde had been wiped out. Seconds later, he saw another explosion occur on the other side, once again blurring the screen and making it hard to see what was happening.
He couldn’t help but grin at the sight of all the dead kobalds and the entirety of ST 24 making their way up the mountain and away from the site of the former rift. ‘Howard really is one hell of a war-mage,’ he thought to himself.
With a satisfied grin, he said, “Never write off the soldiers of Oglivarch. At least not until they’ve been dead for a week and you’ve thoroughly tested the body.”
-----
Nero was about to start unleashing his personal brand of death when, through his perception field, he noticed some of the kobalds acting strangely. He could see several of the staff wielding lizards grouping up together, and whatever they were doing was beginning to affect the ambient essence. It was a lot like what happened before the rift started opening.
Looking to his right, he saw Nick holding his hands palms up with his eyes closed. Above his head, there was a spell-form weaving itself into existence slowly. Fascinated, Nero took a moment to examine what the man was doing. At this distance, Nero could see the spell-form clearly, and it was marvelous.
The spell-form’s shape was completely unfamiliar to Nero, but he could tell by some of the flatter parts that it had some basis in elemental magic. Instead of the standard two dimensional spells, this one looked like a pyramid, with the base facing outward toward the kobalds. Nero watched as the spell-form snapped into place, then began slowly spinning. The flat base of the spell began emitting a beam of green light that raked across the kobalds like a scythe. While it moved slowly, the kobalds were packed so tightly that it didn’t really matter.
Nero was in awe of the destructive power, and turned his attention back to Nick with excitement dancing in his eyes. However, his enthusiasm dimmed a bit when he saw how exhausted Nick looked after his singular spell.
Unfortunately, Nero didn’t have time to wait for Nick to recover, so he said, “Hey Nick, what’s stopping the kobalds from opening another rift?”
Nero watched Nick’s eyes widen at the thought of another rift opening.
Not bothering to reply, Nick forced his way through some of the elites, heading off to talk to someone, probably the captain.
Nero watched him go, confused and a little annoyed at his friend’s rude behavior. But, when it came down to it, he wasn’t especially worried about it. After all, he had better things to do than deal with all the tactical bullshit. He was a mage, and his job was to kill the enemy.
Rubbing his hands together, he looked around to make sure that he was still surrounded by the much taller elites. ‘Ok, I don’t want to say that you are all nothing but meat-shields… but you guys keep standing there, between me and the kobalds while I take care of business,’ he chuckled to himself.
Closing his eyes, he surveyed the battlefield, watching the violence going on all around him with a cruel smile. His attention was caught by Specialist Howard and the man’s spell-forms firing like turrets above him. Now that he was close enough, Nero spent a good 10 seconds just studying the new examples of combat casting.
A lot of what he was seeing didn’t make sense, but he could tell that most of it was unimportant. He probably didn’t need to copy anything other than the energy projection and essence conversion sections. ‘Oh, that section is probably the ‘directional’ part… ok, that’s important… definitely need that,’ he thought to himself as he pieced together what he needed for his spell.
Before long, he’d copied much of the specialist’s spell work, or at least enough of it to try casting one of his own. He took his time and made sure that his ‘new and brilliant’ spell-form looked right before adding his center and attempting to fire it. Running his mental senses over the center-infused-runic-carving, he decided that it should most likely work as intended.
Reassuring himself that his plan was a good one, he thought to himself, ‘I don’t see why they waste time making things so complicated.’
With his personal cannon floating above his head in the ether, its tube-like shape resembling a giant Pringles can, he grinned like a maniac and shouted in his head, ‘FIRE!’
He filled the spell-form with his center, and watched as the surrounding essence was pulled in like water being sucked up into a shop-vac. His plan to utilize the same weird essence that the shamans were using seemed to be working exactly as he’d hoped it would. In less than a second, the collected essence solidified and shot out in a bowling-ball sized orb of death over the heads of his fellow elites and into the kobald horde.
He watched with glee as the white-orange ball of light smacked into the snout of one of the ‘leader-type’ lizards, and then exploded. The resulting ball of elemental destruction had all the flavors he’d practiced with. There was steam, stone chips, fire, and even wind.
He really hadn’t put much thought into his spell. He’d just concentrated on copying the containment sphere from good ‘ole Howie, filled it with as much of the usual suspects as he could, then funneled in a bunch of the shaman’s special essence to provide the power, and hoped for a positive result. After all, if all he is looking for is destruction, there wasn’t much reason to focus on creation.
Giggling, he checked his center reserves and saw that he’d not even touched them. By only using the what was required to weave the spell, the only center he was really losing was in the spell-form, and all of that center he’d be able to recapture, provided he was careful. Whatever the dead kobalds were spewing into the ether was proving just as effective as his own center for imbuing his spells with potential.
‘These guys are really weak! I knew it!’ he cheered in his head while charging another shot.
Now that he’d tested the prototype, it was time to let loose. Taking a good 5 seconds to charge before each shot, he started firing the tank-like rounds into the enemy with abandon. The resulting destruction was everything he’d hoped it would be and more.
Through his perception field, he watched as groups of kobalds were launched into the air, their body parts bathing their compatriots like rain. The ground shook under his feet every time one of his shells went off. As more and more kobalds died, the ether became saturated with what he could only assume was their unused soul-potential. This in turn provided him more ammo, which then provided more deaths, which then provided more ammo, and the cycle continued.
The battlefield was reeling with his assault, and the fighting at the lines had died down significantly. No longer were the kobalds a dense sea of enemies, they were once again a hap-hazard mob of scattered lizards throwing themselves to their death.
After a minute or two, he decided to up his game. Perhaps it was a little reckless, but he carefully imbued more center into his spell-form, watching it grow in size until he was having trouble holding it together.
Taking a deep breath, he reactivated the spell and watched as it sucked in torrents of essence, lighting up the ether like a small star hovering above his head. Right before he lost control, he released the payload into the distance. This time, he’d made sure to aim a good distance away from the lines, as he wasn’t entirely sure what was going to happen.
That turned out to be a good call, as the explosion was large enough to rattle his teeth, even from over 100 ft away. Since it was so far away, he was forced to cast a simple ‘mud-wall’ spell under his feet to raise his head high enough to be able to see the results of his handy-work.
Even though it was few seconds later, he could still see the fires burning in the distance, and the giant divot he’d carved into the mountain. His jaw dropped in awe of what he’d accomplished. In addition to the hundred or so dead kobalds, there were countless others rolling around on the ground in pain. The entire flank had been cleared, and that side of the battlefield seemed to pause in anticipation of another volley.
Even though he knew it was stupid to keep his head poking above his meat-shields, Nero still maintained the construct under his feet as he charged another spell. As he was now running two spells, he wasn’t able to charge his cannon as much as last time, but he needed to see it fire at least once.
Turning to the other side of the battle, he fired another round. He watched as the bean-bag chair sized ball of death launched into the distance like one of those giant inflatable balls at a concert, eagerly waiting to see what would happen when it landed. And sure enough, the explosion didn’t disappoint.
His ears rang with the sound of the explosion, then he felt the wind hit him in the face and blow his hair back. The light was enough to make his eyes hurt, but what really made him feel proud was the mini-mushroom cloud which appeared over the area for a second before the air currents broke it apart.
“Beautiful,” he muttered, his eyes almost tearing up with pride.
His moment didn’t last long, as he heard the captain’s voice overpower the sounds of battle going on all around him. “Elites! Prepare to move! Stay in formation, and follow the soldier in front of you. Keep those shields up, and leave no one behind! For Dorchester!”
While everyone cheered and screamed in reply to the captain’s declaration, Nero grimaced in annoyance. His spell was powerful, but he didn’t have the mental strength to move with it, therefore he’d have to dismiss it. Luckily, it wasn’t hard to recover the center he’d imbued it with. In less than a second, the mud construct under his feet had vanished, and he found himself hidden under a sea of elites once again.
Muttering to himself in irritation, he dismissed the spell. ‘I’m gonna have to figure out how Specialist Howie is anchoring his spells to his essence field. I’m not sure I can go back to casting stone spikes after perfecting what shall be forever hence known as: ‘the glass cannon’. On the plus side, we might actually survive this shit-show… so I’ve got that going for me,’ he told himself, trying to look on the bright side.