Riven Plains
9:45 a.m 9 th Maha, 1092.
Thunderous roars crashed against the walls of Riven like herds of stampeding bulls. The lizardmen atop Riven's walls felt a shiver run down their spines – but not of fear. No, this was their first challenge in years.
Bang Bang Bang Bang BangBangBang...
The clashing of swords against shields reared from the walls, soon accompanied by the lizardmen’s rallying screams. Their shouts clashed against the roars of the Kertan army . Initially, the lizardmen’s chants overwhelmed th e outnumbered kertan soldiers . But, then, as if annoyed by the challenge, the Summoned joined in the chant, their gamers' pride refusing to lose to some low-level monsters. And so the challenge reached a stable stalemate, with no ground yielded to either army.
Absalon listened to the battle of wills with a pleasing smile. He would have to remember to thank the lizards for their immediate reply to the soldiers' chants. While he had no doubt about the Kertans' willingness to the battle, Summoned were an unpredictable and selfish bunch. If things seemed sour, they would abandon him without a second thought.
Fortunately , this seemingly redundant challenge had completed Absalon’s m ost task : raising the players' morale. The old general lacked the eloquence of the commander in King’s Journey. Thankfully, there was more than one way to motivate people. He had chosen to manipulate one of the more easily provoked emotions: pride.
"Absalon," Nyte called, as he rode up next to his leader. "Preparations are ready."
"The surprises?"
"Should be here in a few hours."
Absalon nodded . The general’s expression then turned stiff as he raised his hands. Silence reigned over the plains as the terse soldiers awaited the command.
Absalon did not disappoint. With a mighty shout, he ordered , "Take What Is Yours!"
"HuuOOO!" cried the Kertan arm as they tore through the plains, led by Nyte. Their collective speed kicked up an intimidating amount of dust as they bore down the walls.
The lizard men , or rather, drakul as they preferred to be called, were unfazed by the charge. Their bowmen and wise-men replaced the warriors on the wall. They carefully lined up their shots, then fired.
"Shields!" Nyte ordered.
As organized, those with bucklers or shields protected themselves, while the rest depended on the mages for assistance. However, it was not enough. As the hail of arrows and elementals struck the unprotected, the war for Riven recorded its first victims.
"Archers!" Nyte ordered. He gripped his broadsword and swung with all his might. It released a massive shockwave that blasted the projectiles out of the sky.
The Kertan army likewise released their own volley of projectiles, but less than a third managed to reach the ridiculously high wall. Of those that made it, even less actually hit an enemy.
At the end of the first volley, the Drakul only recorded six fatalities, as opposed to the Kertans' seventy-nine.
Nyte was unperturbed by the statistics. "Charge!"
The players ran behind him as he swatted the projectiles out the air, edging ever closer to the city.
Boom!
An explosion uprooted the earth ahead of him, and he fought to keep his mount under control.
Rive wall slid open in several places to reveal mouths of cannons. With thunderous booms, the earth erupted right in front of the Kertan army.
The swordsman glared at the cannons. Their message was clear: enter our range and forfeit your lives.
"Ha! Now, this is what I call a challenge!" Nyte cheered, sword arm raised as he spurred his horse into the erupting battleground. Death balls whistled through the air as they crashed down around him, but he continued unscathed. An explosion right in front of him caused his horse to fall roughly. He hopped off just in time and continued his charge on his foot. A cannonball crashed into him and exploded.
The terrified players took an involuntarily step back, having just watched their leader get absolutely totaled.
"Oi, oi. Just what do you guys think you're doing?" Nyte called from within the smoke. The smoke cleared, revealing him utterly unscathed by the attack. He regarded the players coldly as another cannonball hurtled towards him. "Hmph. Bunch of cowards. Running from mere lizards."
Whoooo…
Nyte spun around and cleaved through the next cannon ball , sending twin halves crashing at either side of him . Nyte’s hair billowed in the resulting wind, causing his figure to resemble a hero from folklore. Nyte cast a scathing glare at the Summoned. "Try not to slow down the R esidents." With those words, he resumed his charge to the opposite army.
The players gripped their weapons, shamed by the display of bravery by the residents as they charged through the erupting battlefield. What right did Summoned have to see themselves as heroes if they paled at the slightest hint of danger? How could they look down on the NPC's who risked their lives without a second thought? Even now, as the cannon fire ripped the Residents apart, they neither faltered nor ceased in their attacks.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it! I'm no coward!" A lancer cried. With a defiant scream, he cast aside his inhibition and pursued the Kertans and Nyte. That lone man's charge sparked a surge of defiance in the adventurers . With bellyfuls of rage, the Summoned screamed at the top of their lungs and then charged at the wall.
Meanwhile, Nyte stopped in front of the Riven wall . He then turned to see how many had made it past the cannon fire. Surprisingly, a lot more than he had expected survived, now gaping at the massive wall , ea ch wondering how they were supposed to scale the impossible height.
"Archers, mages! Keep those damned Lizards occupied," Nyte ordered as he made his way to the main gate. Now, much closer, the archers and mages could actually land their attacks, but the lizard men still held an overwhelming advantage from their towering position.
Nyte placed his hand on the city gate… or rather, where it should have been. As part of the defense mechanism, the entrance had been sealed shut with stones similar to the wall. Judging from the almost unseen crevice, they slid into the wall when not in use. He charged an attack and bashed his sword against the closed gate.
No effect.
A series of magical circles prevented his attack from testing the seal's integrity.
"Tough," Nyte mumbled. "The security in this place is no joke. It makes one wonder how they invaded in the first place." He looked at the adventurers who continued to trade arrow s with the Drakul. Then up at the confident lizards who knew they had the advantage and ruthlessly exploited it.
This would be a fierce battle. Harder yet was Nyte’s task to keep the army's morale in check to prevent deserters. All it took was one coward, and the entire battle would be lost.
Nyte shook his head. "No point overthinking it . I just have to hang in there." He ran through the ranks screaming at the top of his lungs, his commanding voice a beacon of resistance for the army.
The bloody skirmish dragged on for hours.
Unfortunately Despite Nyte’s best efforts, the players began to show signs of dispiritment. Frantic whispers of retreat could be heard through the ranks, while some had all but ceased to attack. Just when he thought he'd lost them, the earth began to rumble softly.
"What? What's that?!" The players cried.
The swordsman grinned as he removed an arrow stuck in his shoulder. "Our victory."
The drakul focused their sights on the bordering forest, it's trees being brushed aside to accommodate the passage of an unfamiliar structure. The battlefield went silent as the structure revealed itself in all of its robust splendor.
A behemoth of wood and metal, the siege tower rolled onto the battlefield pulled by rows of horses.
What? Was this the human's hope? The drakul laughed out loud as their cannons brought it crashing to the ground.
"I would advise against complacency," Absalon said as he and his private bodyguard unit began a slow advance.
"Absalon's making his move."
"Does that mean that was his last plan?"
"What'll happen to us?"
As the players fell into a deeper depression, the earth shuddered far worse than before, causing many to lose their balance. Both the adventurers and the drakul froze as several siege towers rolled into view and escorted Absalon's unit through the field.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The day rang with blasts from the cannon as the projectiles rained down on the contraptions.
Absalon raised his right hand. A giant magic circle formed in front of his army, sucking in the cannonballs. "[Repel]"
Riven's walls lit up in explosions as the missiles returned to their owners with twice the original force. The smoke cleared to reveal the wall itself without damage, but the cannons were all but annihilated.
The drakul swiftly switched to flaming arrows. However, by Absalon's command, the mages drenched the towers with water, rendering the attack fruitless.
Unfortunately, of the several that started the charge, only three towers successfully made it to the wall. They took up positions at opposite extreme edges with the last in the middle.
The drakul surrounded the towers , arrows trained at their doors. The space on the walls was large enough to accommodate hand to hand combat, but the sheer drops on either side discouraged extensive melee.
They waited, but there was no movement. The drakul turned to each other in puzzlement . Whoosh! Suddenly, a shadow hopped from the leftmost tower onto the wall. Clad in tight leather pants and a rather revealing top, Asha smiled with confidence at her targets. "Well, hello there."
"Kill i-" The words died as the screaming drakul clutched his throat. Blood gushed like a fountain, pouring t hrough his fingers as he crumbled to the earth.
The drakul s , enraged by their comrade's death, lunged at the rogue.
Asha swiftly took a step back, dodging the first strike, but realized she had her back to the battlement. Bloodthirst gleamed in a drakul's eyes as he swung his sword at her.
"Slow," Asha muttered. She kicked high, knocking the sword out the drakul's arm , then spun around and stabbed her stiletto into its eye. The drakul reared back in agony, but she wasn't done with him. Asha darted forward and then sunk her daggers into its shoulders.
Enraged, t he others swung at her without regard for their comrade's life.
Hup!
Asha used the daggers as a pivot to launch herself into a handstand. The wounded drakul cried out as its comrades sliced into its flesh. Smiling, the rogue rotated and then spun off the drakul as it crumbled to the ground. Before the rest could react, she tossed an object onto the floor.
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Kab oom!
A massive blast blew the drakul away as a column of smoke surrounded the siege tower. Screams of the survivors rang out from the smoke but soon fell deathly silent. The surrounding drakul trained their bows and spells at the smoking area but could not attack for fear of hitting their allies on either end.
They regretted the decision.
Arrows shot out the smoke, riddling the drakul ranks with arrows. The onslaught was swiftly followed up by charges from the Kertan army.
The drakul recovered from the initial attack and lashed back. Blood seeped down the walls as steel smashed through metal and crushed bones. The fevered cry of both parties lit fires in the warriors' hearts as they struggled to gain ground.
At the other end of the wall-walk, drakul yelled in fright and surprise as they fell down the sides. A bloodied broadsword gleamed menacingly in the afternoon sun as it struck down. Two drakul attempted to parry the blow.
Their swords smashed to bits, and they were sliced through, their bones providing next to no resistance. The strike broke the ground. The impact blew apart all surrounding drakul, and its wielder watched them fall to their death.
Nyte raised his arm.
“HUOOOH!” The unit Nyte led up the siege tower cheered, galvanized by his performance. They ran past him to combat the drakul.
Boom!
Nyte frowned as the soldiers were sent flying.
A brute stepped out. It stood at almost seven feet and wielded a nasty over-sized scimitar in hand. The most distinctive feature where its scales which had turned blood-red against its kins' green. It pointed its scimitar at Nyte and then challenged, "Face me, human."
Nyte frowned. The brute was undoubtedly strong. If left unchecked, it could damage the Kertan army's morale. "Fine, I accept."
The brute’s lips curled in a nasty grin.
It lunged at Nyte with surprising mobility, The drakul wore next to no armor as their scales alone provided all the protection they required. Naturally, this granted them a bonus of speed over other races who relied on heavy armor. This battle was no different.
Nyte only managed to awkwardly block the challenge. He lost his footing as he was launched to the battlements. Bang! Nyte struck the parapet but managed to prevent himself from falling over. He had no time to rest as a cry caught his attention.
"Hrragh!"
The swordsman shuffled to the left as the scimitar sparked against the wall. Its wielder glared at him as it kicked him in the abdomen.
Nyte accepted the challenge and crashed against the spectating drakuls. With a hiss, they pushed him back at the brute's blade, which was swung in a horizontal arc.
However, the swordsman was prepared. Nyte stomped his feet, centering his center of gravity , and then blocked the strike. This time, he was only pushed back a few centimeters.
"Die!" the brute yelled as it swung tirelessly at Nyte , but he bid his time and continuously parried its strikes .
Eventually, f atigue seized the brute . Its attacks slowed by a milli-second.
The hardened veteran gripped the chance. Nyte lashed out his first attack.
Clang!
The drakul blocked but failed to parry the blow.
The swords sparked against each other in their battle for supremacy. Nyte carefully angled his sword down the scimitar's curved blade. At a point, he lost control. Nyte lurched forward and to the side as his sword traveled down unopposed.
The brute suffered a similar fate. Momentum forced it to follow it's sword's trajectory. The scimitar bit into Nyte's exposed shoulder.
Nyte's blade, on the other hand, dug deep into the drakul's bare legs.
It reared back in pain, but Nyte was not letting the chance go. He kicked the brute's legs , causing it to fal l to its knees. Nyte then spun around to gain momentum and struck the poorly placed scimitar.
The scimitar shattered to pieces, allowing Nyte’s blade to dig into the drakul's brain . Nyte gritted his teeth and then flexed his arm. The added strength sent the drakul’s head flying over the battlement. Panting heavily , Nyte pumped his fist into the air.
The Kertan army was once again electrified b y Nyte’s performance and thus resumed their attack. As time dragged on, it seemed victory on the wall was within the Kertans' grasp, but two events would soon shift the entire balance of the battlefield.
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Norcha,
Earlier that day.
Norcha's docks buzzed with activity as Kashi's private militia outfitted themselves and hauled items onto two frigates. Among these were spears similar to the one the d aeben had been using, except made from rare metal. The soldiers looked terrifying in the pure black armor crafted by Kashi.
The image of a wolf howling to the moon , inspired by Kira, was engraved onto breastplates, sword hilts, and flags. It was the new emblem for the Hopeful Maggots. The preparations were ready by early evening, and they waited for the only outstanding member.
Leila exited the barracks and made her way to the ships. She was met with loud cheering as she hopped onto Kashi's vessel. "Sorry, I'm late. Was held up."
The d aeben shook his head as he gripped the steering wheel. "Don't worry about it. We're still ahead of schedule. The other squad captains and I have already said our piece. You have anything to add?"
Leila nodded. She hopped onto the railings and grabbed a line for support. Her confident voice carried across the rapidly increasing wind to the other ship. "I am neither here to flatter nor deceive you. The enemy far outnumbers us, and much blood will be shed. Some of us may perish tonight, and others, gravely injured. I can see the fear in your eyes, the subtle hesitation at my words. But I assure you this: Every soul here is scared. Look to your brave captains. They, too, fear death. To fear is not to be weak. It reveals your weaknesses , yes, but ultimately, i t is your choice to crumble under it or bend it to your will and emerge stronger than before." Leila’s voice softened. "Tonight, we face terrible odds, BUT do not forget this! You are led by the man who singlehandedly took down an organization of bandits! The crazy bastard bent the kings of the food chain to his will! If there is one man who can spit in the face of terrible odds and emerge victoriously, it's him!" Her voice rose as she spoke, igniting a spark in the recruits.
"If you cannot trust your own power, then trust in his. Just as he liberated you from oppression, so will he liberate your beloved capital. So, tonight, do not panic. Do not waver in your steps. When you feel fear, look to your captains who aided in your rescue and know this: As long as we stand together, shield our brothers while they strike, and keep to the plan, no one, and I mean No One will see us coming. So eat and rejoice. For by this time tomorrow, one of your own will be crowned king, and your names will go down in history as the brave heroes of the country... For Riven!"
"UOOOHHHH!" Explosive cries blew through apart for miles. The sound was so great, beasts far and wide froze in their tracks.
Kashi grinned at the reaction. Man, she just stole the show. "Lift anchor! Raise the sails! We sail for victory!" As the sails caught the boisterous wind, the daeben glanced at the encroaching dark clouds. He muttered, "A storm... huh."
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Back on the Riven walls, the Kertan army was faced with a terrifying dilemma.
Nyte heaved slowly, bloody hands gripping his broadsword. The deep gash on his shoulder severely hampered his attack, but he could not afford to retreat and seek out the healers. This was because of his peculiar position of being the symbol of strength for the Kertan army.
Without him, they would crumble. Though Nyte might have still exited for a short period if the events of the past thirty minutes did not occur. He wiped the sweat off his pale face and raised his broadsword. "Come!"
The drakul roared unintelligible gibberish as they lunged at him. A good number of them had inexplicably transformed into the red brutes, gaining immense power and speed in the process. The Kertan army would have been wiped out if not for the valiant efforts of the sneaky rogue on one end, and the brave swordsman on the other.
But fortune was not on the Kertan's side.
The sky grumbled its displeasure at the prolonged battle as heavy gales begun to blow to the north. It threatened to blast every man off the wall, but the drakul had better resistance due to their considerable weight. The gales were soon followed by punishing rain. They torrid droplets felt like mini-bullets under the force of the wind. This only worsened the condition on the wall-walk as adventurers started losing their balance mid-battle. Of course, they were swiftly rewarded with blades to the head.
Absalon would be mad, but the situation gave the swordsman no choice. "Retreat!" he ordered. "Go down the tower!"
"What of you, sir?"
The swordsman tested out his shoulder. It stung, but would not be detrimental . "I'll hold down them off! Get going!"
At the other end, Asha took a similar stance, letting the army retreat first. The situation was worse on her end. She had used up most of her smoke bombs and mini-traps, and rogues like her were not really suited for straight combat. Especially against multiple opponents.
No use mulling about it.
Asha took out her daggers and squared off against the drakul. "Bring it."
The first lunged at her, sword raised. The rational thing to do would be a retreat. However, she had a different style of fighting.
Asha stepped right into its personal space until she almost kissed it. Her daggers plunged into its stomach, and its strike faltered halfway. She kicked it back and dropped a smoke bomb.
The drakul were used to it and fired into the area regardless.
"You should have covered your noses," Asha advised.
The weapons dropped from the drakul's hands as they clutched their throats, eyes watering.
"Not dead, I see," muttered Asha. "Well, you boys fell for the oldest trick in the book. We'll meet again." She ran unchallenged into the siege tower, and it began its retreat.
Across, Nyte hobbled into the siege tower then collapsed. His armor was cracked in several places, and only the hilt of his sword was left in his hand. That he had managed to fight for so long against those monsters was really surprising. The survivors carried him gently down the stairs to find a healer.
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The terrible storm made navigation less than pleasing , Kashi and Jero somehow managed to guide their vessels to the cliffs where the daeben had set up his point of infiltration.
Kashi tied the remaining spears behind him and stared up at the cliffside. Heavy rain made the rocks slippery, with dangerous winds that could knock them off at any time. Thankfully, he did not have to worry about the first problem. The rope ladder he had made with the spears made the initial climb easier.
Though the wind proved unrelenting, the daeben persevered. Soon, Kashi reached the apex of the rocky part. He withdrew the special spears he'd made and grimaced. Moment of truth.
Kashi struck against the wall and tjen nearly fell from shock.
It failed.
Kashi tried again, and again, and again, but no matter how many trials, all he got were errors. He almost wept when he remembered something. He closed his eyes and calmed his breath.
Ferulic Spirit Technique activated.
At level 4 , the skill increased his strength by forty-five percent when activated. The downside was that it absorbed 50MP every 3 minutes of use. Nevertheless, it should be enough.
Kashi pulled his arm as far back as possible.
The heavens flashed and roared alongside him as he struck!
The spear slid comfortably into the stone wall.
Kashi slumped on the makeshift ladder. He rested against the jagged rocks as he sighed in relief. The heavens applauded his efforts with a series of thunderclaps.
Rejuvenated by success, the daeben's eyes burned with excitement as he buried another spear beside the first. Slowly, but surely, he began his ascent.
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Kertan Main Camp.
Absalon listened to the report from his generals. He turned to Nyte. "You ordered the retreat?"
"Yes," replied the swordsman. "Any further, and we would have suffered terrible casualties."
"I did not ask for an explanation. I asked if you ordered the retreat."
"Sorry. Yes, I did."
The red commander stood up from his chair and walked over to him. "Why did you give that order?"
"I judged the situation and deemed it necessary."
"On whose authority?"
"Mine. As general."
"General, is it? Why did you stay behind till you almost lost your life?"
"That too was my judgment. I decided it would be the best way to reduce casualties."
"... And yourself?"
Nyte bent his head. "It's my duty as general to see to my squad's survival. Even if it -"
Absalon sighed. "Make no mistake. You are far more important than all of those men combined. If you fall, all your men fall with you. Next time, factor your importance into the battle before making rash decisions like that. Besides..."
"Yes?"
"You are weak. When this farce is over, you and I are going to the badlands. For you to be injured by something like this is shameful."
Nyte smiled. "Sure thing, boss."
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Silhouettes hopped over the battlements behind the main castle walls. One of them untied a direwolf from its body. The party swiftly split into three parts. One led by a daeben , and the other led by the experienced wisben . The last group bided their time for the signal they knew would come.
This war, which had lasted an entire day, would reach a bloody conclusion before the sun rose...