Shawn held his ground: his shield had grown to a tower-type shield that blocked the advancement of the writhing mass of the Ratmen militia. Their black weapons smacked against the wooden frame of the tower shield, as they tried to push past onto the bridge that spanned the roaring canal. My ears rang as I cast a volley of Djinn’s Arrows into the crowd. Several of them screeched as the flames spread to their fu, and dove into the river in an attempt to quench the flames. The waters were calmer here than the last time, so a few of them managed to swim across and attempt to climb out of the waters using the iron rungs drilled into the walls. I repel them with Aether’s Push before they could even crest the walls, causing them to fall back down into the flow of the river and drift downstream.

“Why’d you have to do that, Shawn?”

The man laughed manically. From his position, he’d stab out with a javelin as if it were a short spear. It found the throats of many of the clawing, attacking Ratmen; the once white stone near his feet was now painted a bright red. The moment we had walked into the door and found our footing beyond the swirling black, Shawn had put his bag on the ground and opened it. From it, he drew out an air horn. I tried to stop him. I really did, but he was too quick. His finger pressed the button, and he tossed it on top of his bag. My ears still rang. From a door, just beyond the canal, a single head came out to check out the noise. It screeched a warning as Shawn moved to block its only means of crossing the river.

“I’ll hold them here. You do your thing against them.”

Why did I even wear chainmail, then?

A horde of Ratmen had run out at the beck and call of the first. As soon as they entered the room, Shawn’s wooden bracelet glowed green, and he planted himself on the far side of the bridge, blocking the way onto it. He grabbed a javelin from his pouch.

“Ears!”

I covered my ears, and I see a bit of orange poking out from his.

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He cocked his arm back and tossed the javelin amid the oncoming horde. The air cracked, and the floor shook as ten of the oncoming Ratmen were tossed back by the force. Six of them got back up. Three of them twitched on the ground, and one of them had been thrown through the crowd and had been pinned against the wall.

There must have been at least 50 Ratmen here. I’m glad that I didn’t decide to go in alone...no, I probably would have been able to handle it if I planned it out better than, “blow airhorn and stand on the bridge.” This strategy was only possible because of Shawn, I reason.

Another group of Ratmen ran out of one of the other doors a bit further down the canals. This group was led by a white-robe-wearing Ratman as they stopped at the edge of the canal.

“Bombard my enemies, O’ thou servants of Go—” The Ratman mage raises a rod, and a gout of pressurized air silences me while I was in the middle of my incantation.

The other Ratmen hop into the canal and begin to swim across it, and every time I try to incant, the Ratman utters a word and another gout of air smacks me in the face; stopping my words. A rather large Ratman stayed on the other edge of the canal with a rope tied around his waist acting as kind of an anchor for the other ones as they swam across to grab hold of the metal rungs in the walls.

What could I do? Panic floods through me as they begin to climb. I raise the staff above my head and bludgeon the head of the first one coming up. It falls back down but is caught by the others. Another gust of wind pushes me back away from the canal. From the Door, six more emerge, all carrying bows. They line up on the other end of the canal next to the mage who held its rod out in front of him, ready to counter any spell I made.

I’d have to be quick, or I’d be dead.

“Dance for me,” I dive out of the way. A gust of wind crashes against the wall behind me and the Ratmen nock, “O’ daughters of the” the arrows were let loose. I raise my arms over my face and head. The arrows slam against me. Two clink uselessly against my gauntlet, and two get stuck in my chain mail; though I could feel one had pierced just a bit further, and the point had pierced my lower abdomen. One was stuck in my right thigh. “Wind.” I manage to finish. A dome of howling wind wraps around me. I’m unable to use earth spells now, but I was safe from arrows.

“I allow the breath of the Salamanders to,” some wind collides against my dome, but is absorbed into it, “flow through me.” It’s the first time I’ve used firebolt for a long time.

I point my staff at the Ratman mage at the other end of the canal, who was just now beginning to chant his own spell in its chittering language. A large ball of flame roars to life at the end of my staff and leaves a red streak as it ripped across the air. The large Ratman grabs hold of one of the archers and tosses it in the path of the archers and tosses it in the path of the oncoming firebolt. It screams as the flames wrap around it and consume it. It is dead before it hits the surface of the water.

Through the wall of wind, I see the mage smirk. His incantation finished, he pulls his wand down and aims it at me. A howling column of wind and water flies across the canal and pushes through the shield of wind provided by gust and sweeps me off the feet and smashes me into the wall behind me.