Day in and day out, Cyrus waited along the path towards the southern gate while hidden in the sand. He would arrive a few hours before dawn and wait a few hours after dawn breaks before heading back through the hidden exit to continue his studies with Cato. On the 9th day of waiting, he finally spotted a slow-moving caravan in the far distance.
"They finally arrived. A decent sized caravan at that, I guess that means it was arrogance all along. They think that mere numbers will work out here, pity. The larger the target the harsher the means used are"
Some time later the ground started to shake ever so slightly, barely noticeable. The vibrations slowly increased in intensity as time went on, before becoming noticeable to even Cyrus who was hiding in a pit of sand.
Cyrus turned towards the ground, putting his ear on it and listened closely.
"No fucking way! The other party who bought the information are downright insane…or maybe genius. Sandcrawlers…”
As the vibrations grew louder and louder, the caravan noticed the happening as well. Coming to a quick halt they arranged their coaches in a basic defensive formation, with strong spears filling in the gaps and archers on the tops. With practiced ease they set up their defensive line and awaited that which chased them.
As if to match their foe, the sandcrawlers made their appearance in the foreground as well. From a simple tumultuous vibration to a large oncoming cloud of kicked up sand. Ever closer they moved, until Cyrus could make out the beasts with his spyglass sticking out of his hiding spot.
"Looks like a group of adolescent crawlers, around a dozen of them. Scary to look at with their large jaws and sand-colored carapaces, but this group should be able to survive…albeit with casualties no doubt" rationalized Cyrus.
The crawlers came into sight of the caravan causing commands to be shouted and archers nocking their bows… the battle had begun!
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Standing in the center of the camp a well-dressed man sat as he breathed with all his might and screamed, “ARCHERS! AIM FOR EXPOSED AREAS, FIRE!”
“Aye!” yelled back the men, focusing their entire being into their bow as they desperately fought their nerves. Aiming at the mass of claws and carapace in front of them, they drew and let loose whistling projectiles towards their foe.
The archers felt time dilate and their skin crawl as they suddenly became aware of every single drop of sweat on their brows and of every beat their now racing hearts took. They watched their arrows rain down on the beasts and harmlessly bounce off as if they were shooting iron plates.
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Their grips slackened, fear coursing through their veins as their hearts skipped one beat too many.
“Wake up you FOOLS!” Screamed the well dressed man, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. Throwing it into the air it burned brightly and dissipated into ashes.
“Keep firing OR WE ALL DIE!”
The archers woke up out of their reverie, continuing to shoot as if nothing had happened. Volley after volley fired with god blessed shots actually taking down several of their foes as they seemingly slipped and slided over the sand towards them.
The archer’s happiness and joy soured with each one they fell, allowing them to shoot faster and faster and to even ignore their now blood-stained hands as the skin of their fingers cracked and split.
Some even began to giggle and laugh and the closer their foe came the more they laughed.
One archer pulled on his string so hard that it snapped, taking his forefinger clean off. He looked down at it, giggled in a shrill ghoulish manner and picked up another bow next to him and continued to fire with his middle finger instead.
The well dressed man looked at this with wide eyes, “I knew that trinket was too cheap”. He looked down towards the spearmen and growled at them, “Get those spears up, we will need them any moment.”
The man appeared to be an up-and-coming prophet, for just moments later the beasts reached the wood and metal barriers with a crash and like a tide began to push and circle the carriages ever eager to get past the flimsy barriers to reach their delectable meal. The spearmen would not let such actions go unopposed, however, and with a war cry they pushed their spears through the gaps with all their might hoping to pierce an eye or jaw. Beast after beast, in their bloodthirsty mindless rage, fell while the barriers miraculously held.
Until finally a single carriage was broken through, and the perfect line collapsed. The now exposed spearmen were picked off one by one as the last four crawlers broke through and charged into the now exposed center camp.
However, what awaited them was a volley of arrow fire from the other side of the encirclement and the swords of the archers who jumped onto the backs of the beasts from the nearby carriage tops.
Down went another two of the beasts to the supportive fire of the back camp archers. Down went another beast, from the brave sacrifice of an archer who jumped on its back. The other one was not so lucky, as he was promptly thrown off and mauled yet his sacrifice was not in vain. The spearmen who had finished clearing up the other side came to finish the job, making short work of the wounded and bloated crawler.
As the spear felled the last beast, a cheer arose from the survivors. Happy to have survived the seemingly unprovoked attack, they began to clean up the wounded, strip the dead, and then burning the remains.
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Eyeing the successfully defended caravan, Cyrus recalled the words of the dealer he had dealt with a few days prior.
Sighing slightly, he adjusted his spy glass to see through the clouds of dust that the crawlers had kicked up as best as he could. Doing his best to ignore the scent of various entrails that lay splattered on the ground not too far away from him.
Through the dust appeared several silhouettes slowly began to appear, like ink blots on a sandpaper canvas. The merchant caravan was surrounded once more.
Whistles rang out from the dusty surroundings and without so much as a single hoorah the figures burst through and made themselves known to all.
“Round two” mused Cyrus, watching everything with a calculating eye.