"And as the heavy bell's ring reverberated throughout the dimly lit town so did the the hushed voices of terrified villagefolk, they rushed into the false safety of their rundown houses protected by crumbling walls and withered militia who held their rusted spears against the hordes of terrors pouring out of the dark and into the naked view of the humans' eyes, only for the remnants of hope and sanity to wither away under the pressure of the grotesque and unnatural visage of malformed flesh and bone slowly rising to their ramparts..."

---------

In the distance apppeared a flickering light of an old lantern swinging from one side of the dusty road to the other while it hastily neared the gates. One of the stronger-willed militia spotted it and while he could not belive his eyes for a few moments he quickly pointed it out to the others. His captain, an old man with days of glory far behind in the history of the small roadside town, observed it for a while, only to realise it must be refugees running from the herrors beneath.

"Men, open the gates and clear the road!" He roared behind onto the smal lcourtyard.

The men with spears and shields eyed each other nervously, not willing to believe the orders they received.

"There are people who need us, now do your duty and open the damn gates for them!" Turning back to observe the faraway distressed the man noticed that as the little light neared them, another appeared some way ahead of it. Then another and another. Mumbling to himself he grinned. "Perhaps the fates may yet smile at us this night..."

The warriors cut and burnt through the packs of twisted forest beasts and rode their steeds into the gates as the gueardsmen held their ground against those that took notice.

The first to enter was simple caravan militia whose blade was held alit by their companion, a magecraft wielder. The third light however, never entered. Instead, she lept of her armored horse and landed on her deft feet with flaming arrows flying towards the rattling waggon, clearing its path. But there was a fourth warrior, shrouded in darkness but now under the walls' light as he dismounts. Dark armor covered in grime, cloths and furs soaked in blood and venom he stands next to the archer, protecting her as she focuses on allowing the traders and refugees safe passage.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"Alright everyone, inside, now!" The old voice from above was a small blessing to the men outside the walls that were now moving back in, painstakingly leaving the few dead and dragging along the wounded. "Now we just wittle them down with the spears, get to it lads!" While their respite was cut short the strategy was sound and they trusted their leader, so they crawled up onto the walls, supporting their already stabbing and slashing brothers and sisters.

The archer joined the on the ramparts, sending down arrow after arrow, blazing through the dark night, while the wandering knight that arrived with her sat down in the small courtyard, apparently resting after the strenuous ride. Then he called up in a calm, almost emotionless voice. "Don't waste all the arrows, I'm sure the rustpikes can handle it..."

"Oh shut up, these guys' deserve a bit of help." Responded the suprisingly cheerful voice of a young woman.

"Oh I'm sure they do, but you will be needing those arrows."

"Then I'll just pick them back up."

"Unless they break them, burn with them, literally dissolve them in belly acids spewn all around or-"

"I get it." With frustration she asked for a spear which was soon handed to her and slashed and proded with it at the beast beneath. At first, she seemed a bit clumsy but she adjusted quickly enough. "I'm getting the hang of this whole spear thing!"

Coming next to her the knight grabbed one of the spears as well and with the first thrust he scored a kill. "Great."

"Oh come on, let me have this." When the man just looked at her through his helmet with a sly grin she just knew he had she simply jabbed him with her elbow. "Screw yo-" But before being able to say anything more the yell of a squire made everyone raise their heads up, only for a part of them and the gate to be enveloped in blinding flames. Then came a thundering strike that shook with the very ground as the gate exploded into a million splinters and the dirt rose in suffocating clouds that enveloped the falling militia...

---------