“Ladies! Gentlemen!” Maxwell stood in front of the combined forces of Demonia, “As you know, we have started to evacuate the civilian population that is willing to leave.”
There were nods from the assembled soldiers. “The war is no longer closing swiftly. The war is here.” He stared across the parade field. “We stand alone facing this foe, but I remind you, WE are soldiers.” He picked out individuals in the formations. “Be it eighty hours or eighty days, we will resist this invader until the city is emptied of our kin. We will keep fighting when the arrows are gone.” His eyes wandered to the Calvary. “When all are gone, THEN we will bite BACK!”
*-*-*
Grendel Repute looked around the camp. The cat was washing itself on top of 'his' worg's head and the others of the group were pitching the tents. He decided to skip out on the chores, and explore the roadside. As a heave thick snow began to fall, the obscured light began to make strange shadows on the ground.
He walked, lost in thought down the roadway, the giant evergreen trees barely moving in the slight breeze. After a while, he realized he had followed an unused fork of the road, and up ahead could see a wagon pulled off to the side of the narrow trail. Walking towards him was a tall, thin man dressed in a warm sheepskin coat.
“Hello, child.” The man said, in a deep voice. “Would you like some candy? I have some in my wagon.” He gestured back the way he came.
Grendel took a moment to survey the area. No wagon tracks. No horse or other animal sounds. No tracks behind the man. No shadow under the man... “N...No thanks kind sir. It would ruin my dinner.”
The man took a step closer, “But I must insist. There is plenty in the wagon for you to fill your tummy.”
Grendel took a deep breath, “Mama Repute always told me to get the candy Before I got into the wagon!” He bolted back the way he had come. From behind him, he could hear laughing.
*-*-*
Brianna looked around. Pine trees. No love in these things. Why isn't there a good oak or willow around to give a girl some comfort? “Are we ready? Everyone eaten? Used the potty? Washed their hands? It's almost dark, so we should be able to move in a short while.”
The three heroes nodded, Magni looking a little dubious, after being told to wash up after only peeing. They waited for a few more minutes as dusk settled around them like an old familiar blanket, then set off at a slow pace, Bri and Brandy taking the lead.
“Mind the branch, Magni.” Brandy said from her higher vantage point. “English, take a step to your left to avoid an old stump.” She looked around at the slowly thinning trees. “We'll be out of here in a short bit, then it will be a quick march to the gate.”
“Any clue why the demons have abandoned it?” Magni asked.
Not stopping, or even slowing down, Bri replied, “Not really. If I had to guess, they are preparing to swarm the main gate, as they are known to do. But I don't think Lancil is that predictable. It may be a trap we're wandering into.”
*-*-*
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Prince Lancil was not amused. “What do you mean, they are less than a week out?”
“My lord,” the messenger gasped, torn wings shaking, “I don't know how, but I saw their scouts less than two days travel from our sentry lines.”
“Damn.” Lancil flung himself to a couch that had been pulled from someone's home before the place had been put to the torch. “Plan twenty two through forty eight are out of the question.”
“Twenty two?” The scout blinked.
“Our plans of retreat.” Lancil answered. “We can't head south or east. North will bring us nothing but closer to the other blasted dwarven kingdom. West is, or was, the best action.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, 'oh'. Our best bet was to retreat back the way we had come, then turn south into the Heretic's home Kingdom and make raids for supplies. Now we either have to implement plan Zed, or plan Omega. If we don't, we will be smashed between the anvil and the hammer.”
Vtev stepped from the shadows near the back of the pavilion. “My lord, the troops have been pulled from all but the main gate. You were, as usual, correct about the Heretic's plan. He will be sending the evacuees out on the eastern planes somehow, and defending the city until they are safely away.”
“Good. Then we will start the execution of plan Zed. Prepare the Gate Breakers to march at midnight.” Lancil plastered a toothy smile on his face. “We will open the city gates tonight, and feast like kings in the morning!”
Vtev guided the still shaking scout from the pavilion. “Go and eat, then rest. You are of no use to the master in your current condition.”
“Thank you my lord.” The scout coughed into his clawed hand then looked up, “What is plan 'Omega'?”
“Bowing to the powers that be in the city, and begging for sanctuary.” Vtev replied. “The half million demons on our tail would mince us and put us in pies without that cities walls between them and us.”
“Couldn't we just flee and take another town?”
“With the exception of Heretics Hold, there is no other city on this continent like this one.”
*-*-*
Max was half asleep when the attack at the gates started. He rolled out of the borrowed bed, shoved his feet into his boots, and buckled on his gun belt as he ran out the door. The barracks hallway was crowded, but he managed to slip through to the gate wall.
Below him lay thousands of demon troops, and several dozen of them were carrying a battering ram. As the defenders shot arrows at the ram bearers, magical shields caused the arrows to break. The ram arrived at the gate, and struck with a loud crash. Max drew his right hand revolver, cocked the hammer, aimed at the last demon in line on the ram, and squeezed the trigger. Boom. The shield over the demon shattered.
The archers who were quick on the uptake fired a volley into the unprotected demon and started to make him into a pincushion. But the shield reappeared, and the arrows slowly started to fall out.
“Crap,” Max swore. Nezra demons. Magic resistant, extra strong, and fast healing. He looked around for a runner, waved her over, and yelled over the noise of the ram striking the gate a second time, “Poisoned Arrows! Those are Nezra demons. Poison is about the only thing that will hurt them at range!” She nodded and ran. Wisdom's thrice cursed panties, this is going to be bad.
*-*-*
Bri, Brandy, and the rest of the crew ran for the unwatched gate. Three hundred yards, two hundred, one hundred, fifty, twenty five. Then they were there. English and Magni huffing and puffing like chain smokers, Bri winded, and Nomvula barely breathing hard at all. Meanwhile Brandy was over the gate, and harassing the guards to open it for them to crawl through.
“What do you mean, NO?” Brandy almost yelled. “They ran across the open land for safety, and you won't let them in?”
“No means no, miss pixie.” The corporal in charge said. “By order of the Heretic, no civilians are allowed back inside the walls.”
“Do you know who I am?” Brandy said.
“No. And I don't care.” The corporal glared at her, “Now take your non-combatants, and leave. Otherwise I'm going to have to call for reinforcements.”
Brandy placed her tiny fists on her hips, stared at the sky, and shrieked; a piercing cry that made the wall shudder. The now concerned corporal stared at her a moment, then snapped. “Look you little shit. I don't care who you are. You're not Maxwell's Pixie, Priestess of the Drunken Horde, so PISS OFF! Or I'm going to have to resort to the cage we use for the little ones who flit about and cause trouble.” He reached down and grabbed a bird cage that would best be described as 'spikey'. “Now GET LOST!”
Brandy's eyes grew wide, he face pale, as the death cage came into view. She could feel the evil leaking off cage, the yearning for Fae blood to feed it, it's want for her. She could also almost taste the finest of luxury booze from the smell it oozed. “Where... where did you find that abomination?”
“Standard issue for the gates. Been around for centuries. Works for even the most ferocious of creatures. A couple of hours in there and no one wants to repeat their offense. Leads to a 0.01% recidivism rate. Better than prison.” The corporal grinned. “Don't make me open the door.”
Brandy fled.