Fennel held his shield up, another barrage was incoming and he had to hold no matter how many arrows flew his way. Another three arrows plinked against his shield, their collisions vibrating through his whole arm. One managed to stick, cracking the metal cover and boring into the wood underneath. Blast it! The enemies wouldn’t let up as the ground continued to shift under their feet, the hole growing deeper as the assault went on. They were now a good ten feet, maybe more, in the ground.
A single misstep, a single error, was all it could take to lose those behind him. Bonner, an archer from Fennel’s squad A5, disobeyed Fennel’s initial order to not return fire and caught an arrow in his shoulder for it. Fennel knew the other Legions weren’t far off. They would come and stop this madness, his squad just needed to survive that long. A Support from D19 huddled next to the injured archer as well.
Fennel took a moment to see how they were. Blood poured out of the wound in Bonner’s shoulder, an arrow pierced through it just moments ago. The Support tried to use Basic Healing while they moved but the arrows raining down kept making him flinch. That and the fact that both needed to practically kneel to ensure safety behind Fennel. He cursed at himself for not being born to a larger race.
Most of the arrows would bounce off his armor. Very few of the arrows seemed to be empowered by abilities. A fact that somewhat bothered Fennel but he wasn’t sure why. But they could still pierce through leather and cloth armor.
Fennel wanted to move faster, but the constant deluge and unstable earth and rock made that nearly impossible. Not when he had to protect others. They’d be safer if they could make it to the rest of the squad. He stole a glance at his destination.
The earthquake that trapped his people in the First One’s forsaken hole came with a single blessing: some large chunks of earth and rocks tore free from the ground, creating what they could use as barricades. There was a grouping of them that he ordered his team to take shelter under. Those shelters must have been an oversight by whoever planned this attack. They must not have tested the plan. More arrows clashed against his shield, forcing him out of the thought. For the best.
“AGH!” A pained wail cried out. Fennel’s heart jumped. The cry came from his right. It wailed out again, losing its strength as each heartbeat pounded in Fennel’s chest. Its owner slowly silenced. Then stopped. But Fennel couldn’t look. As much as he wanted to stop and see who it was, see if they could be saved, he had to focus on the current task. He took another step. Faster damn it.
Fennel and his wards made it to the largest of the covers. Miraculously, one of the D19 guys was an earth mage. He couldn’t do anything to counteract the entire predicament, but he could make sure the giant slab of rock stayed in place. Fennel deposited Bonner and the Support with Rumi. She knelt down next to the stone mage, presumably giving him some stamina.
They used the largest outcropping, a makeshift medical space. It was a quarter of the size of an actual medical tent, room enough to protect maybe twelve people. The healthy would have to find their own cover. Thankfully there was plenty scattered around the field.
Dried blood ran down Rumi’s face and splotched her scaly hands and arms. She had worked on a number of injured already. She raced over to Bonner as the D19 Support helped him over, relief washing over her haggard face as she realized another Support was found. Fennel wished he could help her further. She must have been running low on stamina by now. It was the one thing he never lacked for thanks to Boundless, his passive ability that gave him an accelerated boost to stamina recovery during battle. But he had no way of sharing it. And Leader of the Pack was already on cooldown, not that it had much to give. Only its damage reduction would help at all in the current situation.
Fennel looked over at Roscoe. The large frontliner stood at the perimeter of the cover, two shields sat on his arms instead of his spear that leaned up against the slab of rock. Fennel wasn’t sure where he got them but that didn’t matter in the slightest. Roscoe noticed him for a second. “Need help out there?” He asked.
“No, you need to stay here. I’ll go back out. Keep your eyes peeled.”
Roscoe nodded, his rectangular pupils refocusing on the edge of the rim. Their cover could only protect them from the front. They could still be flanked if their enemies moved to the sides. Lukkans covered the opposite side of the perimeter, his bow at the ready. His eyes glued to the rim.
But Fennel couldn’t worry about possible attacks like that at the moment, not when he was still missing squadmates. Only half of his squad was accounted for. One feathered female Support in particular was among the lost. Fennel balled his fist around the arrow jutting out of his shield, ripping out and breaking it in one quick motion. He took a step, planning on heading back out. Rumi grabbed his arm before he could go back out and find others.
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“Injuries?” She asked.
Pain wracked his arms. The constant barrage was taking its toll on him. He wondered how many nasty purple and black bruises hid under his gauntlets. But he could handle it. He’d have to handle it. Rumi needed to focus on the others more injured than him.
“No, see to the others,” Fennel responded without looking at her.
He removed his helmet, freeing his ears from it. They perked up and twisted left and right. Something, anything. They jerked toward the backside of the hole, where the other Legions were. He could hear the footsteps rumbling, heading for the hole. Soon. Good.
He turned his ears back to the rest of the hole. After a minute, he heard a roar coming from the center of the hole. It wasn’t one of pain but of rage. A warcry Fennel recognized immediately; he had heard it all too much in the last couple of months.
“Zaner.” Fennel ran out from his cover, heading for the next bit of rock he could hide behind. He could move much faster now that he didn’t have others to protect, allowing him to run from one rocky shelter to the next. This is where his small stature came in handy. Fennel had more choices than other frontliners when it came to finding cover. The shouts guided Fennel across the rocky field.
As he ran, questions arose in his mind. Who was attacking? Why only attack with arrows? Why isn’t a ground force coming down to wipe us out? What even caused the sinkhole? None of this attack made any sense.
Soon Zaner’s shouts grew louder. He was close. But as Fennel searched for his comrade, a bright light at the top of the hole caught Fennel’s attention. An ability. Damn! Deciding it best to not take his chances, Fennel raised his shield, bracing for impact. A few arrows bounced off his armor and shield, but nothing special. No bright light. No explosion. No added force or element. He looked up and saw a host of arrows flying over him, towards the other side of the hole.
The other Legions must be closer. He sent a small prayer of thanks to the First Ones as he picked up his pace.
As Fennel rounded one last stone, he saw his target. Zaner stood with his axe’s flat side pointed toward the enemy archers. Three arrows poked out from the man’s shoulders. Zaner wasn’t a Tank like Fennel, but a Bruiser. He opted for armor that supported greater maneuverability, a basic plate covering his vitals, and a single shoulder pauldron to protect his off-hand side. Terrible armor to go against archers with. But it's not like anyone could have predicted this.
Zaner’s shoulders glowed green where the arrows were lodged in; someone was giving the horned warrior aid. Fennel looked down and saw that Zaner stood before a few others, blocking the oncoming attacks as best he could. None of the upturned stones in the center were large enough to defend behind. Which left their only defense to be the Minotauren.
Fennel caught a small glimpse of white near Zaner's legs. Fennel shot out without looking at the ground. His foot slipped on a soft spot of ground. He stumbled, catching himself before falling. But the earth shifted again, throwing him off balance. He hit the ground with a thud.
NO! GET UP!
He screamed internally, commanding his body to listen. More rocks jutted out as the ground displaced further, two stones piled on top of his foot before he could stand back up, trapping him. He pulled his leg, trying harder and harder to free himself. He started slamming his shield into the stones. He looked up and saw that Zaner dropped to one knee, an arrow embedded in his thigh, but the Minotauren kept his axe held up. But he didn’t have much more in him. The axe wavered.
Fennel dropped the shield, now pulling on the immovable stones themselves. Sweat poured out of his armor as his muscles strained and tore. Fennel looked up as he pried and watched on as the archers at the top readied another volley at his team. Just as he opened his mouth to yell out, scattered yellow light shot across the sky.
Bolts of yellow electricity shot across the sky, heading straight for the enemies. At that moment, Fennel was sure he’d never seen anything more beautiful. He felt he recognized them but couldn’t afford to waste brainpower on figuring it out. All that mattered was that help arrived and simultaneously fried the archers.
Pain shot through his foot, bringing his attention back to the ground. It began to shift again, Fennel pulled once more, finally freeing his foot before it was crushed. He looked back up, only for water to splash all over his face. He was soaked from helmet to boot in what must have been three bucketloads of water. He wiped the water off his face just in time to see a body falling from the sky.
He threw his arms out just in time to catch the person falling. He dropped back behind some cover. Water dripped into his eyes, leaving whoever it was still a mystery. But he could tell one thing, they weren’t very big.
“Thanks, Cap!” A familiar feminine and young sounding voice said.
He put the girl down, then wiped the remaining water away from his face, only to find one of his wayward squad members.
“Tawny!?”
“Yep! But no time to talk. I need to find a way back up there.” The young half elf pointed up to the top of the hole.
“Why? And how did you even get here?” Fennel asked, then stopped himself. “Doesn’t matter. You need to stay here until more help arrives. I need to get down there and help out the rest of our squad.” Fennel finished.
“Your squad.” The girl piped up just before Fennel returned to his attention to the field. He paused.
“What?”
“Your squad. My new squad is up there. Had to make a new squad since you guys left us. Almost turned us into deserters. Thanks for that by the way.” She said with a pout. ”But all is forgiven. I need to get back up before the next wave gets here.”
“Wave…” It was the only word that stuck out, and the only one of any actual significance, “How close?”
“Probably a quarter of a mile.”
Fennel sighed. “Right, of course.”