I did not expect the fair weather to hold another moment. The sun had shone through cloudless skies ever since we crossed the border. Somehow, I expected the rain and wind to oppose us, to side with our enemy and slow our cause with mud and broken spirits. It seems I was too apprehensive. I looked from the shade of the wooded outcropping at the wide plains crowded with newly sprouted grains. There, in the middle of the plains, stood Granforle.

The city rose out of the plains like a lonely mountain, lazy trails of pale smoke traced their paths into the sky.  I had never been here before, or even the south of the Empire for that matter. It didn’t seem to be anything fantastic. The city’s main claim to fame was that it was the sole settlement in the smallest barony the Empire controlled.

Carolus gave us a painfully detailed history lesson on the Baron and his holdings. Baron Fremont was a cautious fellow; he rarely left his territory, the only exceptions being to meet with his fellow nobles when the king called. That dog-like loyalty, combined with some favor that left the king indebted, was the sole reason Fremont held any land at all.

Enzio was convinced it was set on it being the first thing to be claimed in his conquest. My survey didn’t instill as much confidence as Enzio’s passionate parlance. Granforle was walled, its parapets patrolled by more guards than a settlement of this size would normally possess. It was on the boarder, but the Empire had been at peace with Orodia since before my lifetime.

Regardless of my quibbles, the city would be taken before the day was done. Two gates, one to the south, the other to the north, allowed entry past the wall.  Our forces weren’t large enough, and we didn’t have enough time to construct proper siege equipment.

That was why the success of this mission rested on my shoulders.

“Collecting your thoughts?”

I glanced over as Enzio appeared at my side, his eyes fixed on the city with fierce determination. His eyes usually betrayed his countenance; they revealed the passion that possessed him even when he was trying to exude calm confidence.

“Something like that.”

“The men are almost ready,” Enzio said, looking down at the camp spread out at the base of the outcropping.  

Tents were scattered amongst the trees, making it difficult for anyone looking into get an accurate estimate of the size of the force. Most of them were mercenaries, sell-swords, or vagabonds—here at the expense of Enzio’s coin. Only a few truly shared our cause. They were a rough bunch scoured up from every back roads tavern and guild we came across. At current, they measured just over a hundred individuals. It was a fair match against the maybe four dozen individuals or less who stood constant guard in Granforle, but they had defenses for us to contend with.

Men were donning their armor and checking their weapons while others limbered themselves up. The ones that owned shields were slowly meandering their way to the edge of the tree line. They would be first in the attack, drawing the archer’s fire until the defenses could be breached.

“Then I suppose I should get ready as well,” I replied.

Enzio nodded as I turned to walk to my tent, “Before you do that, Carolus wanted a word with us.”

“Did he say why?”

Enzio was silent for a moment as he matched my pace, his legs having to move almost twice as quick to keep up with my strides. “He was cryptic—”

“How surprising…” I muttered

“—But he said it was a complication.”

I couldn’t help but sigh. Of course, it would be against the old man’s nature to tell us everything upfront instead of waiting until the last possible moment.

We soon reached the huddle of tents that were set apart for those of us central to the effort. Carolus’ large quarters were adjacent to Enzio’s, with the entrance flaps pulled aside and tied off, revealing the wizard hunched over a map. Besides the central table that hosted the map and multiple loose papers and scrolls covered in smatterings of arcane texts and symbols, there was a bed roll tucked into the far corner, and several crates and chests topped with a wide variety of alchemy equipment. Some of the vials contained strange liquids of bizarre colors: remnants of his ongoing experiments.

Carolus glanced up as we stepped inside, with me having to stoop low to fit through the opening.

“There is a complication,” He said, scanning our faces with his eyes, keen as usual. I thought I perceived some sense of satisfaction or even pride in his voice, almost as if he were glad to be a bearer of contrary news.

“So I’ve been told,” I said, glancing at Enzio.

“Yes, now will you finally tell what has you so veiled?” Enzio asked.

“There is a spellcaster in Granforle.”

Carolus said the words slowly, lingering on them and letting the wight of them sink in.

Enzio tensed beside me. “How powerful are they?”

Carolus shook his head. “That, I cannot discern. However, they lack the skills of the adepts: he was unable to shield his presence from me, but it was simple to hide myself from his perception.”

“Should we call off the attack?” I asked, crossing my arms, and looking between Carolus and Enzo.

“No, we can’t afford to wait any longer,” Enzio said. He was blankly staring at the map, lost in his own thoughts. Knowing him, he was weighing his options. “What do you know about him?” Enzio asked, his gaze darting to Carolus.

“Based on my scryings, I believe him to be a retainer of the baron. Likely a young practitioner looking for an easy station to allow him means to further his work.”

“He shouldn’t have many gripes with us deposing his patron, then?” I asked.

“I am limited in my information, but yes; I doubt he would give his life. But even when they are not making their last stand, spellcasters can idly be a great threat,” Carolus said.

“Are you up for it, Caedmon? You’ll be first in line for whatever tricks he may be capable of,” Enzio asked, looked at me intently.

Truth be told, I had no desire to test my might against a spellcaster’s cunning. I had seen the works of Carolus firsthand, and even if this spellcaster possessed only a modicum of the old man’s skill, I could be facing potential mortality. And yet, I owed two much to both men. We hadn’t spent the last decade planning and preparing for this for me to be scared off by one obstacle.

“Carolus has given us too many tales and warnings over the years for a simple spellcaster to stop me now,” I answered.

Enzio grinned as Carolus’ scowl deepened. In Enzio, I could see a confirmation and reciprocation of brotherhood, and while Carolus looked sour, he was more likely upset that I trivialized his teachings rather than my willingness to face this adversarial wizard.

“Good man. Now suit-up; we march in an hour,” Enzio said.

I nodded and ducked low again, exiting the tent. A few quick strides took me past Enzio’s lodgings to my own. After years of sleeping on bedrolls, and on the hard ground when times were lean, resting in a proper bed would be no small reward at the days end. Assuming we were successful that is. Failure meant a dungeon and the executioner’s ax come the morning, as was punishment for high treason.

“Kipp! Time for my armor,” I announced as I stepped inside.

The boy dropped the rag he’d faithfully been using to polish the heavy plate and jumped to his feet. The armor was lying on the table, ready to be donned. Kipp had done well, it looked in almost better condition than when it was new. The boy knew he’d done well, standing beside his work, and beaming with pride.

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“Impressive work,” I praised, continually pleased with the lads’ work ethic. Kipp was one of our most recent recruits, having only been with us for the last month. His affliction made him extremely useful, and as such, Enzio saw fit to made him a sort of squire for him and myself, my lack of nobility aside.

“Now it’s time to put it to use; help me don it,” I ordered, walking over to begin the process.

As I put on the gambeson, and then the chain shirt, Kipp channeled his affliction. Moving, as if by invisible strings, the pieces of armor began to lift off the table.

“I’m getting better at this!” Kipp said, fighting his growing enthusiasm as not to lose concentration as the mark of his affliction burned on the palm of his hand.  

The items were carefully guided to their intended destination. I held my arms slightly out to the sides, letting the articles float into place. As soon as they found their mark, the straps and buckles began to secure themselves at Kipp’s silent orders, encasing me in steel.

Once everything was properly fastened, I felt Kipp’s influence drop away, leaving my frame to bear the weight alone. It was enough to crush most, but I was far typical. The armor weighed as much as three grown men, the work of a master blacksmith from Orodia; the greatest gift Enzio has so graciously given. It made me a living bastion of steel, impenetrable to nigh anything we’d ever had the misfortune to cross blades with.

Moving my arms, I tested out the maneuverability to make sure everything was in order as Kipp ran around, checking straps to do the same.

“Everything looks good to me. Everything feel alright?”

I nodded, smiling at the protected feeling that surrounded me now.

Outside, orders began to ring out, marshalling the men to the rally point. I reached around to grab the helm from the table, tucking it under my arm and grabbing my halberd that rested near the entrance.

“Caedmon.”

“What?”

“Come back safe,” Kipp said, looking at me earnestly.

“I will,” I promised, giving him a parting nod as I hefted the weighted weapon from the ground and made haste for the tree line.

Heads turned as I passed, a reaction I was well accustomed to. Even the tallest failed to stand higher than my shoulder. It was my blessing and curse: my affliction.

When everyone had gathered, Enzio came riding up on his horse. He was wearing his own armor this time, an ornate breastplate gilded with the royal crest.

“Men! The time has come! I promised your names would be recorded in the pages of history. The siege of Granforle will be the first chapter in the rise of the Empire’s true King!”

Cheers erupted from the men like they were sworn brothers-in-arms, a disproportionate response for mere hired thugs. I took a closer look at Enzio and sure enough, there was a faint silvery glimmer coming from the scar centered on his forehead, the mark of his affliction.

It didn’t exactly seem right: an almost lie. They were promised gold, and that was the sole reason most of them were there. Making them believe there was a higher purpose through subterfuge… Regardless of my qualms with Enzio’s skills, we needed them to fight with the same zeal we had.

“You’ve all seen the might of Caedmon; the man with strength of ten! Today, you will fight with him, stand at his side as he shatter’s Granforle’s gate, and the Empire’s security!”

Another battle cry went up as I slipped my helm on.

“Shield bearers, raise your barriers. Steel yourselves! And show them our power!”

With that, Enzio gave me a nod, and I took the first step forward. Two columns formed behind me upon emerging from the grove. Each had five rows of ten men, scarcely an intimidating force as we trod across the expanse. The first two rows on either side bore shields. They followed closely behind while the others lagged further back.

To our left lay the main road leading to Granforle’s southern gate, which stood directly ahead. We knew they may be aware of our presence, but it seemed Carolus’ spell craft had hidden us well; the gate was wide open, letting the occasional traveler and caravan through.

That element of surprise didn’t endure for long. A horn sounded from the walls. The short blast heralded our arrival. Moments later, the portcullis dropped. I saw movement on the walls, as the city garrison rushed to see what they were facing.  We were well within range of their bows and crossbows by now, and sure enough, the first bolt sunk into the ground a few yards ahead of us. Not heeding the warning shot, I picked up the pace, breaking into a run.

Two more short horn blasts rang out.

Arrows began to rain down. A few struck me as I sprinted, feeling no worse than pebbles thrown by a child. Others were caught by the shields of my compatriots. One man was felled by a luckily placed bolt, but that wasn’t my concern now.

The gate was fast approaching. I drove the haft of my halberd into the ground as I neared it. Power rippled through me as the scar on my chest burned with affliction.

Taking hold of the iron-laden lattice, the metal crumpled in my grip, flying upward as I lifted it.

Cries of alarm and unbelief rose from the guards. One man, stationed just inside the gate, lunged forward with a spear. He stabbed at my midsection, only for it to glance off the heavy steel. Fear eroded his face as my allies streamed in behind me. The charging wall of shields pushed him back before a quick cleave of a sword sent him to the High Father.

Finally, the last of our men passed through the gate. With a sharp breath, I hefted the gate, transferring its weight to one hand. I almost faltered, the bulk sinking, forcing me to brace it with my shoulder. Reaching, I grabbed my halberd, pulling it from the ground and shoving the gate up with a last push. Stepping through, I let it crash down behind me.

The men had met the resistance of the guards a little way past the gate. A few lives had already been traded, and even though we had a slight advantage in numbers, loosing manpower was never advisable.

“Make way!” I yelled, breaking into a sprint.

Just like we drilled, an alley formed as our forces parted. The disordered guards wore a perplexed look that was rapidly usurped by primal fear upon realizing the reason for their enemies’ sudden retreat. Holding my weapon level, I shoved it forward, driving the spike through the first man.

He screamed in pain as I raised him, still impaled, into the air.

Aghast, the rest of the guards took a step back.

Realizing they were outnumbered, the leader among them called for retreat. To help them on their way, I pivoted, leveraging my halberd to fling the impaled man through the air. My aim was true; the dying man slammed into one of his fleeing allies, bowling him to the ground.

“Rouven, take your men and clear the archers off the wall; we don’t want to be caught by a volley unawares,” I ordered.

“Aye, sir.”

“The rest of you, with me!” I shouted, taking off in pursuit of our adversaries.

Fearful eyes peered at us from dark windows and almost-shut doorways as we passed by. A few citizens caught in the sudden chaos were still wandering the streets, freezing when they saw us.

“Let them be,” I said, “Our only quarrel is with the baron.”

We moved past several streets and buildings without issue, but when we reached the main square, we were met with more resistance. Arrows and bolts suddenly whistled past from three directions. Several struck mercenaries as they passed, a few being fatal.  Only one thunked harmlessly against my right pauldron; they must have realized the futility in trying to down me with bows.

“Take cover!”

Everyone spread out, the men with shields making a ramshackle defense for their more vulnerable fellows. The square was mostly empty, but we must have caught them on market day, as a few wooden stands displaying foodstuffs and other goods were littered about.

Our enemies had spread themselves out, making it difficult to face one group without opening yourself up to the others.

Using my halberd as a prybar, I slammed it into the paved street, breaking up the mortar and raising one of the stones. Gripping the stone, I took aim and flung it down one of the side streets. Frustratingly, it scarcely missed, scattering in a shower of fragments. Still, it made one of the bowmen scatter for cover.

Another rock yielded better results, catching the guard square in the chest, and knocking him back. At the rate it was going, they would riddle us with holes before I could take them all out.

“We’ll have to charge,” I called over to the men. “Half go right, and the rest break left!”

A few gave nods, getting ready.

I chose the main street dead ahead, the most direct path to the city keep. When I broke into a sprint, the guards ahead of me dropped their bows in favor of their swords.

Going for an overhead swing, the guard tried to block, but it was futile. My strike instantly overwhelmed his strength, cleaving his weapon and burying the axe of my halberd deep in his chest.

Two more foolishly tried to close in on either side. Tearing my weapon free, I reared back and pivoted, sweeping a wide arc. The first man’s body offered almost no resistance as the blade tore through him, allowing the attack to carry through, embedding the weapon in the second man’s stomach.

They were still charging. Swinging my weapon low, I sunk the hooked spike opposite the ax blade into the thigh of the next assailant. With him howling in pain, I rotated around, building up momentum, before using my screaming victim to bludgeon another guard. The impact slammed them both into a nearby wall, no doubt breaking them beyond recovery.

Only three from this group remained. Wisely, they didn’t charge, standing just out of reach. They gripped their swords with mortal fear, their faces pale and terrified.

“Surrender, you need not die today.”

Exchanging a glance, all three dropped their swords, stepping to the side.

“On your knees. Stay there and your lives will be spared,” I said as I passed, trusting the others of my party to rendezvous at the keep.

As I moved through the streets, I couldn’t shake a strange feeling. Being back in the Empire after all this time—returning as a conqueror after leaving it an urchin… I wasn’t sure how to reconcile everything. But the time for those thoughts hadn’t arrived.

Most of Enzio’s men were waiting for me in front of the keep’s gate. A smaller wall distended from the city’s main defenses, meaning there was another portcullis.

“Were there many losses?” I asked, noting our forces had diminished slightly.

“A few, but Durand took his boys to sweep the streets for any stray guards,” one of the more grizzled swordsmen said.

I nodded and got to the matter at hand. This portcullis was smaller, but it was still a great effort to raise it.

“You two, get this gate open, then send the signal for Enzio,” I ordered when the first few walked through.

Soon, I felt the strain lessen, as the winch properly opened the gate.

“Caedmon, we have an issue,” One of the men shouted.

“What?” I asked, walking to where he stood near the impressive oaken doors of the keep.

And then I saw it: a shimmering barrier, a telltale sign of spell craft.