Rebirth: Rise of the Slave Master
Chapter Forty-One: Battle of Aleside
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Side A - The Walls
Alaine braced himself against the cold wind as reports of an attack echoed up the chain of command. Anything that could serve as a barricade was battened against the front gate. The news had come shortly after Theo left, and while the defenders weren’t caught completely off guard, they were already as well prepared as possible. Supplies and defenders were simply too limited.
The sounds of shouting erupted as flaming jars of pitch were thrown wildly over the barrier separating the two sides of the conflict. Although the damage was minimal, the manpower necessary to put out the fires couldn’t be spared. Alaine was already shorthanded after sending his best men to defend the lighthouse. Large patches of ground were quickly set ablaze, sending up clouds of acrid smoke into the sky. Thankfully it was outside and free to blow away, but it still contained a powerful, sulfurous odor that stung his throat.
“Watch the walls!” he shouted over the noise, trying not to cough, “Don’t get distracted!”
The first ladders hit the top of the wall with a clatter. It was only a few meters high, so it was not difficult for the mercenaries to quickly scuttle up to the top and drop down on the other side. Although the first men to do so were quickly intercepted by the guards, it was difficult to kill them before more followed. The town’s defenses were never meant to repel human invaders in the first place.
Alaine drew his sword and charged at the nearest mercenary, sweeping his blade across the man’s stomach with a powerful swipe. His rage boiled over as he thought of just how detestable these men were. It had been years since he was a real soldier, and though he was now just a small time guard captain, the experience he had gained on the battlefield was considerable. It seemed one of the mercenaries had twisted something when he dropped from the wall to the ground, so Alaine mercilessly kicked him over and hacked at his vitals.
In the time it took one of his men to dispatch a single enemy, the furious captain had killed at least three. He remembered the scene of the adventurer, Theo, slaughtering his way through impossible odds, and the image of that battle kindled his will to fight. It was the same for many of the other guards who, like a ferocious set of jaws, snapped shut around the first wave of the enemy coming over the walls.
Eventually, one of the fire jars struck a building, and the wooden structure was soon engulfed in flames. Though they were close to the sea, the wood was dry from the desert heat, and few of the structures were made with stone. Wildfires were one of the greatest concerns the village faced, but due to the limited space available, they were left with no choice but to build in a tightly packed manner. The fire would inevitably spread out in all directions if it wasn’t stopped. Knowing this, a few of the more stout-hearted citizens rushed to gather water and help with damage control, but were quickly set upon by the bloodthirsty mercenaries.
The guards were too few to stop all of the men pouring over the walls, and their forces were already spread thin. In other parts of town, the guards stationed there had already been totally wiped out. The losses were a heavy blow to the men valiantly fighting on, but the responsibility fell squarely on the shoulders of bad luck.
It was easier as long as Alaine was around to lend his blade, but one man wouldn’t be able to turn the tide of the battle. Smoke billowed up into the air, painting the night sky a blazing, bloody red. The dirt roads were already dyed with blood, but the battle was just beginning.
Alaine huffed, covering his mouth with a sweat-slicked hand as he tried to block out some of the haze. A nearby guard rammed his spear through a mercenary’s leg before the haft snapped in two. The man quickly pulled out a blade from his waist and charged into a group of three black-clad invaders. Although he managed to cut down two of them in blind rage, he was knocked down by the last one. Charging forward, the guard captain blocked the death blow, and knocked the blade from the mercenary’s hand with sheer force. His second attack took the man’s life.
“It’s ok-” Alaine turned back to help the fallen guard, a man named Yates, but he had already been run through by another mercenary’s blade.
“Dammit!” he roared and jumped on the attacker, cutting cleanly through his shoulder blade and down to the sternum, huffing in exhaustion.
“Oh, you look strong,” a voice cut through the sounds of battle like a knife and hit him with a chill, inducing a twinge of anxiety.
Following his instincts, the captain ducked just in time to avoid one of the blades that sailed over his head. The man who had attacked him was tall and thin, with a brutally scarred face and long black hair. His narrow eyes were slightly opened in surprise as he swept out with the second blade. Alaine swiftly parried the strike and managed to dodge backwards, opening up the distance between himself and the dangerous new foe. Another mercenary thought to take advantage of the momentary lapse in attention, but found a sword sweeping across his neck before he managed to land a blow.
“Hoak!” growled Alaine, who had been briefed on the opposing army leaders’ appearances.
“You don’t look like a mercenary, would you happen to be the captain here?” Commander Hoak asked in a far too nonchalant voice.
Seeing their employer attempting to pull some information out of the man, and looking at what had happened to the last idiot who tried to launch a sneak attack, most of the surrounding mercenaries decided to take this opportunity and rush into the burning city. The majority of the town guard had been forced to retreat to the second line of defense in the city square, but the remaining resistance needed to hold the invaders long enough for the others to regroup.
Alaine lunged at the enemy commander, “My name is Alaine Bellamy, captain of the Aleside guard, and I’ll be your executioner tonight!”
Hoak scoffed and struck out with his twin blades, but was startled when he failed to turn aside the guard captain’s blow. A flurry of strikes lashed at him one after another, and he found himself quickly being pushed back. Of course, this was because the true form of Army Commander Hoak was the Shapeshifter, who had almost forgotten it wasn’t well-suited for fair fights after being surrounded by weaklings for so long.
It could be said, that for this area, Alaine’s level was something of an anomaly. While the Shapeshifter wasn’t weak, it realized this man wouldn't be easy to take down. It parried another attack and, faced with a potentially fatal battle, didn't hesitate to use the innate advantages of its race. Alaine expertly read the directions of the Shapeshifter’s strikes to dodge, but gasped as Hoak’s skinny arms stretched and bent in impossible directions, curving around his guard and leaving a gash in his armor.
“What is this!?” Alaine retreated from the close combat, but was pursued by the Shapeshifter, whose upper body became thick and bloated with muscle.
The twin blades fell upon the captain in unison by activating the [Double Slash] skill, but the sudden thunderous attack hit only the ground and sent up a cloud of bloody dust. Alaine had barely managed to roll out of the way. The ability to move around attribute points to maximize effectiveness in combat was a useful talent of the Shapeshifter, though it hadn’t been able to use the option against Theo, who necessitated an overwhelming advantage in speed just to have a chance of landing a blow.
In comparison, Alaine was actually the easier opponent.
“You! You aren't Hoak! Who are you!?” Alaine barked.
The Shapeshifter gave the man a coy, distended smile, “You're right,” it said in it's usually chatty manner, “The real Hoak couldn't join us, I'm afraid. He’s a little busy feeding the worms.”
Alaine stood up and readied his weapon. Seeing an opportunity to buy some time and regain his breath, he said, “You have some nerve attacking us. What's your aim, monster?”
To his surprise, the stranger was rather forthcoming with the information, “Simple, I want the head of that adventurer, for starters. Although I suppose it’s too much to hope he was killed by those incompetent bandits. Aside from that… well let's just say it’s recently come to our attention that he has something my superior wants. Something I've been lead to believe is being kept here in this city.”
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“Something he left?” Alaine wasn't aware of any valuables Theo might have stashed in Aleside.
“I'm afraid I can't explain, confidential and all that,” the Shapeshifter said, “Are you quite finished resting now? Rather than questioning you, it's much easier just to kill you and add that old head of yours to my collection.”
“You wish!” Alaine shouted as he rushed toward the Shapeshifter, whose body warped and twisted at oblong angles.
A pair of flesh wings erupted from the creature’s back with a squelching, bone-snapping orchestra of grotesque noises. Its face blossomed into a wicked grin as it brandished the twin blades and swept them at the valiant guard captain. In the distance, the crackling blaze and ringing of steel roared in all directions.
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Side B - The Lighthouse
The pair of slaves had been in hundreds of battles in the few weeks since they had come under their Master’s control. Together they had fought giant serpents, assassins, and packs of ravenous beasts. It seemed they would soon add human soldiers to the list of things they’d been taught to ruthlessly slaughter. Anastasia now had a strong combat instinct that drove her, an uncanny ability to sense and react, and a body that was as strong and sturdy as stone. She was a natural born fighter.
Gobthnora, on the other hand, enjoyed nothing more than listening to the screams of panicked individuals as they were consumed in fire, and only the thick cloak she wore could hide the gleaming grin that accompanied her face at all times during battle.
Although the guards were somewhat reluctant to follow the orders of the strangely garbed child with the eerily high-pitched voice, they had given the captain their promise. They would do everything in their power to protect this place. The group arrived at the Aleside Lighthouse well before the battle started, and if the girl’s suggestions had been foolhardy or out of place, they wouldn’t have hesitated to turn her down. Instead, the child swiftly commanded them to unload a number of wooden crates from the small vessel which had transported them along the jagged shoreline to the rocky outcropping where the lighthouse stood.
Amazed, the men peered into the crates as they opened them. Junk! They were overflowing with junk!
Random pointy objects, ropes, planks, strings and wires, bottles of flammable oils and other dangerous sundries were laid bare before them. Taking her master at his word, Gobthnora had hoarded anything and everything she could get her little fingers on. She gleefully instructed the soldiers in the purpose of each object and how to best use the item in the act of maiming another human being.
At first, the Lighthouse attendant was startled by the armed forces’ sudden appearance, but once he heard the news of an impending attack the old steward swiftly decided to join them in the fight. This was his home, after all.
The path to the lighthouse was an arduous one which traveled over sharp, sea-foam slicked rocks. The steward rarely ventured out for supplies, and preferred his privacy, so no road had ever been constructed over the jagged pass. His information was vital in setting up the defenses with the limited time, but even then, progress was hampered by the guards inability to properly navigate the area. More than one of them had slipped and fallen into the waters, taking precious minutes for his comrades to fish him out.
When all was said and done, the path to the lighthouse had been transformed into a veritable minefield, littered with all sorts of nasty traps in addition to its already hazardous layout. Although it was difficult to make out their handiwork in the overbearing darkness, the men still felt a macabre sense of pride at what they had managed to accomplish in such a short time. Few of them could speak with any confidence however, when they stood next to the stone-faced young woman who had shouldered a vast majority of the burden. She was like a tireless workhorse with a one-track mind, and her pale skin and the axe blade that shone through her tattered outfit made her seem like some kind of celestial warrior maiden.
Gobthnora, who was growing more clever by the day, had spent a good deal of time memorizing the patterns of inferior human speech, though her harsh words were mostly learned from Theo’s regular beratements, “Bah! Bad work all around! You’d be lucky to kill a pig with these kinds of traps!” it took all her self-control not to mention the majesty of the intricate traps created by the Goblin Big Killmasters, “Especially you, stupid brick-for-brains girl!”
As the guards quickly learned, the relationship between the two adventurer apprentices wasn’t a harmonious one. The little girl was absolutely merciless when it came to talking down to the older one, with a colorful vocabulary that would make even these men, who had grown up around sailors and cutthroats, cringe. Despite this, the other one never spoke a word back, leading them to wonder why she was so deferential.
“They’re coming!” shouted one of the guards, who had been stationed on lookout due to his own [Night Vision] granting rune, as he came scrambling over the rocky terrain in a hurry.
“Back to the… tall, square rock thing!” Gobthnora still had some work to do when it came to fleshing out her vocabulary.
The guards didn’t see any reason to argue as they took up their positions inside and around the hastily fortified lighthouse. The small bottom floor which served as the steward’s home wasn’t large enough to fit all of them, so several men were stationed on the stairs and in the yard. To everyone’s surprise, it was the young woman and the little girl who took up a position on the front line.
“Don’t die,” a light, charming voice echoed in the night air.
It was high, but not in the same way as the little girl’s screechiness. If the other voice reminded them of the loud and obnoxious gulls that flocked around Aleside, then this was like the lilting melody of songbird. It sounded refined and calm, with an air of nobility that caused something to stir in every man there. As boys they grew up in a rough town, and that had naturally instilled in them a rather limited worldview. They simply hadn’t heard anything like it before, and the enchanting words seemed to cause a well of confidence to spring up inside all of them. The effect was only amplified as they realized it was the first time they had heard the woman speak, giving them sense of smug satisfaction.
Each of them suddenly felt lucky to have lived to hear something so sweet. Die? Only if it was for you Rasa! I’d die to hear you call my name!
Of course, they were trained men that understood the situation, and stifled their desires as they watched the charming girl and her small companion take up their positions.
“So you do talk!” Gobthnora exclaimed at her companion, honestly quite shocked.
Anastasia turned to the Goblin with a difficult to read expression, “I can,” she said simply, “Don’t… get in my way.”
Gobthnora huffed, “I roast you if you do the same!” she retorted, “Stupid humies can’t see even though it so bright… so kill where Gobthnora tells you!”
The shaman’s voice was low enough to where the others couldn’t hear it, but the young woman by her side nodded in response. Anastasia had acquired something of a taste for bloodshed, and at the notion of big battle, her eyes gleamed with anticipation. It was her only real similarity with the Goblin by her side.
Since none of the traps were explosive in nature, the noises springing up along the lighthouse trail were muffled by the sounds of crashing waves on all sides. It was impossible to tell how effective they were, but what was supposed to be a stealthy assault quickly devolved into a chorus of panicked screaming. Gobthnora let out a little titter, as only she could see the carnage in all of its splendidness, and took immense pride each time one of the unwitting invaders was skewered or crushed or flung into the sea.
“M-my leg!” one of the men wailed in agony.
“My turn!” Gobthnora chirped as the first of the tenacious mercenaries moved within range of her spells.
The poor bastard saw it coming, how could he not, it being a ball of fire and and all? Only, where could he dodge? The [Fireball] erupted against the rocks, leaving the man a charred and smoking husk. One spell wasn’t enough to kill him, but by the time his companions managed to try and drag him back, another spell landed and more of them were cooked under the Goblin’s fire. It was then they realized what was happening.
“Spellcaster! They have a mage!”
Few words inspired more dread in a large conflict than the one called ‘mage.’ Slingers of long-ranged, usually explosive death, you could find yourself ended in the cruelest way imaginable without ever knowing who or what had killed you. Even if they were veterans, between the traps and the [Fireballs], their morale was shaken. It was clear their stealth attack had failed.
“It’s just the one! Don’t hold back! Charge!” one of the mercenary leaders quickly rallied the men and rushed them headlong towards the lighthouse.
The most effective strategy against a spellcaster was always to close the distance as quickly as possible, but the number of traps only grew more numerous and deadly as the men approached. The screams broke against the pounding waves, and even the guards in the lighthouse were feeling unnerved by the sounds.
So the little girl was a mage… the men all let loose a collective sigh of relief, thankful they hadn’t tried to get on her bad side.
“There’s two of them here! Attack!” the first mercenary finally crossed the threshold of the trap-laden area and bounded into the flat lawn around the base of the lighthouse like he had escaped from hell itself.
Anastasia drew her weapon and shield and stood in front of the Goblin, who easily threw her fireballs around the girl-shaped wall with a practiced motion. The mercenary could taste the blood on his sword as he charged at the stoic woman, swinging his blade with reckless abandon. As the weapon collided with the girl’s shield, carrying the full weight of his body with it, he heard a terrible cracking noise and his wrist bent at an odd angle. His fingers unclenched involuntarily, and he let out a howl of pain.
The man felt the wind forced from his lungs as the woman’s shield connected with his abdomen, throwing him off balance, and a heavy axehead swiftly lodged itself in his collarbone. He was knocked to the ground. After his guard was broken, the petite woman rained blows on his defenseless body until he was nothing but a corpse.
“Kill!” even when shouting, Anastasia’s voice wasn’t much of a warcry, but the guards poured out of the lighthouse as if a fire had been lit in their bellies.
The invaders weren’t startled by the sudden arrival of soldiers for long, and continued their headlong charge. They had no choice but to take this lighthouse, and soon! There was no turning back!