386 days until the Arkon Shield falls

Despite her age, the commander was spryer than I was.

Before I could lift myself out of my chair, Jolin was out of her own and marching into the next chamber. The scout followed on her heels, filling her in on the details in rapid-fire fashion.

I missed most of what he reported, though the little that I heard left me with the impression that this time the murluk army was many times bigger. Hurrying in the pair’s wake, I found the old lady in the next room addressing her captains and other officers.

“Petrov, sound the alarm and marshal the men at the west gate,” the commander ordered. “Jim, gather my guard. We move to the gate as soon as they are assembled.”

Jolin swung to the waiting messengers. “Inform the crafter heads. I want any of their people near the river moved back immediately. And I also want Soren’s team on standby.”

The commander glanced at her scout captain. “Marcus, fetch the new mage, Lance. I want him under my watch during the battle. He is liable to do something foolish otherwise,” she muttered.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Marcus. Throwing the commander quick salutes, the assembled officers dispersed to see to her orders.

Jolin turned my way. “Jamie, can I trust you to do whatever needs doing?”

It was one of the things I admired about the commander. She never attempted to control my magic, something she likely had very little understanding of. Instead, she had always trusted me to fulfil my role. Her very confidence made me more determined not to fail.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, echoing Marcus. “I’ll see you on the wall.”

I broke away from the commander as more officers converged on her. I noticed unhappily that many of the new fishes, curious about what was going on, had stolen into the room. I hoped someone would take them in hand. I had no time to take care it of myself, especially since I needed to get to the river.

Even at my quickest limp, it took me ten minutes to cross the tented camp. The Outpost was in chaos with people running to and fro, and generally getting in each other’s way.

The Outpost’s usual order seemed to have crumbled altogether in the sudden influx of new recruits. Already uneasy about the murluks’ sudden reappearance, I wondered what this new chaos would bode for the forthcoming battle.

When I got to the western palisade, I found that it, too, had not escaped the disorder plaguing the settlement. A crowd of new fishes were wandering aimlessly along the wall, many of them getting in the way of the armoured spearmen who were trying to form ranks. “Damn it,” I growled. “Why hasn’t someone chased those idiots away yet?”

Nearly seething by the time I reached the palisade gate, I barged through the ranks of spearmen arranged in a cordon around it without returning any of their greetings.

The sliding gate, which had been under construction the last time I had seen it, was standing open. John and two other officers who I didn’t recognize, were in animated discussion before the gate.

Leaving them to it, I ran my gaze along the palisade. Only two elevated platforms—each no more than a few yards wide—had been constructed thus far. They had been placed about fifty yards on either side of gate.

So far, none of the other earthworks planned for the second phase of construction had been built. That explained why the gate was still open. With no walkways built on the inside of the palisade, archers could not fire down on the enemy from atop the walls.

Being unable to man the walls reduced their strategic value to that of a simple barrier. The palisade’s only purpose in the forthcoming battle would be to funnel the murluks to the relatively narrow opening of the gate, where it was expected they would be easily held at bay.

No one expected the murluks to try scaling the walls with siege towers or ladders, so as long as the walls held, the outcome of the battle should be assured. “As long as the walls hold,” I muttered.

Having seen enough, I joined John and the other officers. “Morning, John,” I greeted.

The big lieutenant spun around. “Jamie!” he exclaimed, his face immediately flooding with relief. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you!”

John’s response puzzled me. He seemed worried—scared, even—which made no sense.

So why is everyone panicking?

“What’s going on, John? What’s all the fuss about?”

John gestured to the open gate. “Its best if you see for yourself, Jamie,” he said, his demeanour unusually serious.

I glanced through the gate. From where I stood, I couldn’t see the river shore—the riverbanks sloped too steeply for that. With another bewildered glance at John, I limped through the gate and to the edge of the upper bank.

My mouth dropped open in shock at the spectacle below.

Thousands of murluks were gathered all along the river shore. The line stretched both to the north and south and was many rows deep, with new lines forming every minute.

But that was the least distressing part. At the forefront of the murluk army, evenly spaced along the line, were… giants.

Giant frogs.

That was my first impression of the oversized murluks. Each looked to be twelve feet tall and all of them were armed with clubs and shields. Slurping noisily, they bobbed along the line and shoved back any of the smaller murluks that shifted out of place.

What are those creatures? Reaching out with my will, I used analyse on the closest.

The target is a level 29 river murluk overseer. It has no Magic, exceptional Might, is gifted with Resilience, and has low Craft.

“Overseers,” I murmured. The description seemed apt, considering the way they appeared to be maintaining order amongst their smaller brethren. But while the overseers were overly large, given their levels, I judged the threat they posed to be manageable.

Only then did I let my eyes slide to the back of the line—and the truly monstrous creature surfacing from the river depths.

I had not looked directly upon the behemoth before this, hoping it would be no more than a figment of an overwrought mind.

Sadly, that was not the case.

Ignoring the furious churning in my guts, I swivelled to face the river monster and look upon it fully.

It was another murluk.

Or rather, what a murluk would look like if grown to the size of a tree. The behemoth, despite being immersed hip-deep in the river, towered over its smaller companions and made even the murluk overseers seem tiny by comparison.

That thing has to be at least thirty feet tall.

Wider than a boat, the behemoth stood in the water as if it owned the river. In hands, each the size of a tree trunk, the colossal murluk wielded a club bigger than I was. Its face, atop a neck corded with muscles, was contorted in fury. Raising up the massive chunk of wood it carried, the behemoth slammed it down on the river’s surface and roared.

The sound was a dull formless noise that caused the ground to shake and sent waves smashing into the shore. Even from all the way under the shadow of the gate, I felt the wind of the creature’s breath—hot, fetid, and stinking of mud and rot.

Ducking my head, I shielded my nose and mouth while I waited for the roar to die down. Bloody hell, I thought. Was that roar a challenge? To me?

I turned back to face the behemoth. Sure enough, the creature’s bulbous eyes were fixed unerringly on me.

I swallowed. Alrighty, then. With trepidation, I cast analyse on the monster.

The target is a level 57 river murluk chieftain. It has mediocre Magic, exceptional Might, exceptional Resilience, and has low Craft.

The chieftain had magic.

That, more than his size, scared me. I tightened my grip on my staff. How was I going to combat his magic while fighting off an entire army? And where had the chieftain and overseers come from?

I didn’t wonder why they had come. That much was obvious. The chieftain was here for me. I was sure of it.

John walked up beside me. “A goddamn terrible sight isn’t?”

I nodded, unable to come up with any other reply.

For a moment, we both studied the murluk horde in silence. “How long have they been gathering, John?” I asked eventually.

The big man rubbed his chin. “Ten minutes, maybe.”

I rubbed my chin as I considered John’s words. Despite the forces the murluks already had assembled, they hadn’t begun their advance. It seemed we had some time yet to prepare ourselves.

I was worried though.

Now, when it faced its gravest peril, the Outpost was the most disorganised I had ever seen it.

“Alright, John, let’s get the troops ready,” I said. “The commander will be here soon, but right now someone needs to get things under control. Send some soldiers to push back that crowd of gawkers. Have the men march the new fishes to the temple. They can wait out the battle in safety there. And get some men up on the platforms to keep watch on the murluks.”

The big man just grinned at me.

It took me a moment to realise why. I had just ordered him around like a superior officer. My face reddened. “Sorry, John, I didn’t mean—”

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“Nah, it’s alright, Jamie. Your orders make sense. I’ll see to it,” he said with a smile. “I’m not opposed to following sensible commands, you know. Just don’t give me any dumb ones, and we’ll be alright,” he added with a laugh before jogging back to his men.

I watched John for a moment. He was a good man, and I was thankful he had been on guard here at the gate.

Turning back to the river, I kept watch on the enemy. Murluks were still emerging from the water. I tried to estimate their numbers, but after getting to ten thousand, I gave up. How many soldiers did the Outpost have? A thousand?

That’s ten-to-one odds—at best.

I winced. Our chances were not good. But we have the palisade, I reminded myself. And the commander. And me.

The murluks, though, had their overseers… and the chieftain. I turned my attention to the giant murluks. Their number was much easier to determine. All told, there were ten overseers.

Hearing the tread of approaching feet, I glanced backwards. It was the commander and Petrov. The old lady stopped beside me and studied the murluks in silence, her face impassive. “Do you know what magic the chieftain has?” she asked.

I shook my head. “There’s no way to tell. Not until he uses it.”

She accepted my answer without comment. “Will you be able to protect our troops from his spells?”

I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head reluctantly. “I don’t think so,” I admitted. “I don’t have any defensive magic that will work on a scale large enough. My spells are best used offensively.” I scrutinised the chieftain carefully. “But perhaps I will be able to keep him too distracted to launch any of his own spells against us.”

Jolin tilted her head in consideration. “Then the chieftain is yours to handle.”

I bowed my head, accepting the command.

The commander turned to Petrov. “Captain, triple the men in the cordon around the gate, and have the rest of the spearmen arranged in a line along the wall in case the murluks think to scale the palisade. I also want all our hunters summoned and deployed as archers. They will be firing blind over the palisade, but given the enemy numbers, they are unlikely to miss.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Petrov.

“One more thing, Captain,” Jolin called out as the big man was stepping away.

Petrov swung around again. Jolin continued more quietly, “Have a detail posted on retrieval duty. Their orders will be to strip our dead of weapons and armour and pass them on to the new fishes.”

The big captain studied his commander for a long moment, before inclining his head in acceptance. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied grimly.

I shivered. If the commander was contemplating using the new fishes… then the situation had to be dire. “How many men do we have?” I asked quietly.

“Less than I like,” replied Jolin. “Tara has two oversized companies under her command at the logging camp. I’ve sent a runner to call them back, but I fear they will return too late.” She paused. “We have nine hundred fighters at our disposal.”

I gulped. So the odds were even worse than I thought. “When do you want me to begin my attack?”

“Let’s wait for the murluks to advance first. The longer we draw this out, the better for us,” she replied. “Given the murluks’ penchant for attacking at dawn, I am certain they won’t fare well in the heat of full day. If the battle drags on too long, I suspect the creatures will retreat.”

That at least sounded promising. I glanced upwards. No clouds marred the sky.

“Wow! Will you look at the that!”

The commander and I both swung around. Lance was striding through the gate, a much-aggrieved Marcus in tow.

The mage stopped at the edge of the upper bank. “Talk about power levelling!” he said, rubbing his hands in glee. “I can already feel the levels rolling in!”

I rolled my eyes while from behind Lance, Marcus winced.

The commander ignored Lance’s inane comments entirely. “Lance, do you have any spells yet?” she asked.

The big blonde man frowned. “Not yet, but—”

“Then you will stay in the rear with the other new recruits. That’s an order.”

Lance’s eyes bulged. He looked about to protest, but a smiling Marcus clamped down an arm on the mage’s shoulder and pulled him away.

“Come away, little fish,” Marcus said, “Let’s go find you something to wear.”

Lance sputtered and tried to resist, but as a lowly level one player he couldn’t ever hope to match Marcus for strength.

I grinned as I watched Marcus drag the idiot off. “He’s going to be trouble sooner or later,” I said to the commander.

Jolin waved away my comment. “A problem for another day. Right now, we have a battle to win.”

✽✽✽

It was another ten minutes before the murluks advanced.

The commander and I were standing atop one of the two wooden platforms. I leaned over the palisade wall and watched the murluk line ripple forward.

I frowned as I observed their advance. The creatures were unexpectedly coordinated. While the front lines of the murluk army were still somewhat ragged—bunched in places and spread out in others—their advance today was nothing like their ill-disciplined and disjointed charges during the previous battles.

I was not the only one troubled by the murluks’ discipline. The creatures’ advance elicited a grunt from the commander. “Those overseers are a problem,” she murmured.

I knew what she meant. They were the ones enforcing order amongst their smaller kin. Even now, the overseers were wading through the ranks and beating the ordinary murluks into order with shoves and kicks. It seemed like I had underestimated the overseers’ threat.

Movement from the river attracted my attention. Turning my gaze beyond the approaching front, I saw that the chieftain had begun his own advance. The colossus splashed down into the water and swam swiftly to the shore, but when he reached the river’s edge, his movements turned glacial.

My brows flicked up in surprise. The chieftain was struggling to pull himself out of the water. Dry land seemed to affect him far more than it had the murluk overseers or the rank and file of his army. Each step the behemoth took was ponderous and fraught with effort.

Land is not his natural environment, I thought.

Meanwhile, the commander’s focus was on the closing front. The horde was nearing the bottom of the upper bank and still out of arrow range.

“Marcus, Petrov,” Jolin shouted to the two captains who were commanding from the ground, “get our best archers up on these platforms right away. Their targets—their only targets—will be the murluk overseers. Understood?”

The two saluted and hurried off to obey. The commander turned to me. “Begin your attack, Jamie.”

“I’m on it,” I said.

I drew the spellform of fire ray in my mind and extended it through my wizard’s staff. Holding the spell in readiness, I lowered my staff and pointed it at the unmistakable—and unmissable—form of the chieftain.

When I was certain I had my target dead centre in my sights, I infused the spell and hurled a focused beam of dragonfire towards the murluk leader.

The dragonfire burned a line of gold through the air and hit the chieftain squarely in the chest. Despite his size, the behemoth staggered back at the impact. Recovering his balance, he flung up his head and roared in outrage.

“Impressive,” remarked the commander, studying the faint shimmer to the air in the spell’s aftermath. “Now do it again.”

I smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” Reforming the spellform of fire ray, I sent a second lance of fire hurtling towards the chieftain. The murluk ducked his head, and raised his arm to shield himself, but it did him no good.

The dragonfire burned a hole through the behemoth’s forearm. Raising his head, the chieftain glared at me in impotent rage.

I grinned back in response. The twin strikes had nettled the creature. It would take more hits before I could bring the chieftain down, but given his torturous advance, I felt confident I could fell him before he reached the walls.

Especially if I target my attacks at one of his legs.

I lowered my staff and sent a third line of flame arcing over the battlefield. It missed the knee-joint I aimed for, but still struck the murluk leader’s leg, provoking another roar from him.

Adjusting my aim, I hurled a fourth bolt of heat and light.

It failed to hit.

What the—?

I hadn’t missed. The fire ray had scorched through the air as deadly accurate as my previous bolts, but before it reached the gigantic murluk, it had been blocked by a shimmering bubble.

Startled, I rocked back. The chieftain had cast a magic shield around himself. Studying the transparent dome of arctic-blue that hung over the behemoth, I recalled a similar shield the orc shaman Kagan had created back on Earth.

Just how strong was the chieftain’s shield? Kagan’s had held back mortar fire. This one couldn’t be that strong, could it? I bit my lip in worry.

Encased within his bubble, the chieftain raised his head to the sky and bellowed in victory. I glared at him sourly. The battle wasn’t over, whatever the murluk leader thought. It’s only just begun.

A moment later the chieftain’s cry was echoed from much closer by his overseers. Looking down, I saw that the murluk front was halfway up the upper bank and they were hopping forward with renewed vigour.

I ground my teeth in frustration. My failure appeared to have spurred the enemy on. I had to burn through the chieftain’s shield. Lowering my staff, I drew on my mana again.

The commander laid a restraining hand on my arm. “Wait, Jamie. He is still too far away to threaten us directly yet. Let’s observe how their front line does first.”

The old lady’s calm was admirable. Where my own gaze was furious, hers was cool and assessing. The murluk leader was not an immediate threat, and it would be many minutes before he reached the wall. The same could not be said for the rest of the murluk horde—which was now almost upon us.

It grated on me to leave my foe unopposed, but Jolin was right. Though I didn’t like it, I followed the commander’s lead. I released the spellform in my mind and steadfastly ignored the chieftain’s repeated peals of triumph. Their only purpose seemed to goad me. I turned my attention to approaching line.

The first wave of the murluk army, exhorted onwards by the overseers, were labouring up the bank in a near frenzy to get at the human defenders.

Two archers were perched on the second elevated platform. Taking careful aim, they fired. Their arrows whistled through the air towards their target—the nearest murluk overseer. But the murluk giant saw the incoming projectiles, ducked behind his wooden shield, and let the arrows thud harmlessly into it.

Disappointed, I turned away from the sight to observe the rest of the assault. The first murluks had reached the base of the palisade.

Once there, they began to hop.

I frowned. What were they doing?

The murluks were bobbing up and down, and on the same spot. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, the murluks bounced. With each hop, the creatures seemed to build more momentum and reach even higher.

My stomach churned as understanding rushed through me. They’re going to jump over the wall. “Commander, I think—”

“I know, Jamie,” she replied grimly. Drawing a stout club from her belt, she shouted over her shoulder, “Petrov, brace the line, the murluks are about to jump the wall! And get the archers back!”

The hopping grew frenetic as more murluks joined in. The creatures packed up tight against the palisade wall until its entire length was filled with bobbing shapes. Matters were different only at the open gate.

There, the murluks streamed inwards, taking the path of least resistance. With bellows of their own, the cordon of spearmen guarding the gate stepped forward and engaged the horde.

My gaze flicked along the palisade as I wondered what to do. I could see no way to stop the murluks from hopping over, if indeed they could manage the feat.

Do I attack the chieftain? Maybe if I pierced his shield, it would demoralise the enemy. But he was still—

“Jamie, take out the overseers, starting with the one commanding the murluks at the gate,” Jolin ordered. Her voice was firm, with no hint of doubt as to what needed to be done.

I didn’t question her. I acted. Lowering my staff in the direction of my target, I sent a fire ray rippling through the air. The overseer saw the line of dragonfire burning its way towards him and tried to fend it off with his shield.

It did him no good.

The fire ray blew through the wooden shield and into the giant murluk. The overseer lurched backwards and his eyes bulged as both his arm and shield burst into flames.

Keeping my staff centred on my target, I unleashed a second, third, and then fourth fire ray at the overseer. Each lance of destruction caused him to stagger and jerk like a marionette on a string before he dropped dead to the ground.

“Good job,” said the commander.

I opened my mouth to reply, but was startled as a head popped over the wall. Jolin didn’t miss a beat. She calmly swatted the murluk away with her club, sending it flailing into the massed horde below. Warily, I flicked my gaze to the left and right.

All along the palisade, murluks were bouncing over in oddly graceful arcs, only to meet an untimely death at the hands of the waiting spearmen.

But while the numbers of murluks breaching the wall was manageable at the moment, the defenders on the ground would be soon be overwhelmed.

“Jamie, focus!” snapped the commander. “Take down the other overseers. Start with that one next!” she said, pointing to an overseer to our right. That section of the wall was in danger of being flooded with murluks.

I nodded sharply and set to work.

My first two rays missed. The overseer had learned from his fellow’s fate that blocking would do him no good. Dancing between the smaller murluks, he managed to foil my aim twice over.

But I could learn too.

Anticipating the overseer’s next movements and taking more care with my aim, I pinned him with my third attack. Then, while he still reeled from the flames licking at his torso, I followed up with three more fire rays. They were enough to leave the overseer a charred and smoking corpse.

I didn’t wait for the commander’s next order. Searching out another overseer, I poured dragonfire into him, until he too collapsed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the pressure on our walls had eased wherever the overseers had been felled. The murluks near the dead overseers swirled about in confusion. Many abandoned the attempt to hop the wall entirely and charged towards the gate, sowing even more confusion as they cut through the ranks of their fellows.

The commander had been right, I realised. Killing the overseers was the key to winning the battle—at least until the chieftain reached us. Without their overseers, the murluks were losing their impetus.

I glanced upwards. The chieftain was still some distance off, but with patient steps was moving steadily closer. I lowered my staff at my next target.

I can do this.