Chapter 8: The Siege of Eldon Gate
THE MONTH OF NINSUM DAY 14 YEAR 675 OF THE SECOND HOLY CALENDAR
Eldon’s Gate was constructed to guard the most significant mountain pass into the Black Valley. The pass was wide enough that ten wagons could pass side by side simultaneously. In addition, it had little of an incline, making it the most convenient method for marching a large army or supplies into the Norost mountains. This made it a strategic target for anyone seeking to invade the kingdom of Black from the South.
Contrary to its name, the “Gate,” the Fortress was constructed on a cliff overlooking the mountain pass. Anyone attempting to pass through the mountains would be subjected to a hail of arrows and Magic from the castle.
Eldon’s Gate was surrounded by a massive outer curtain wall, 30 feet tall and 10 feet thick. The wall was constructed of thick black stones that comprised the entirety of Norost mountains. On the side facing the mountain pass, the cliff made it an additional climb of at least 20 feet.
Eldon's Gate's main feature and fortification was on that same side: a massive drum Tower jutting out over the mountain pass like a small mountain itself. The top of the tower was crowned with a conical roof. On top of the pointed roof, the banner of the Kingdom of Black flapped. Smaller towers rimmed the curtain wall on the mountainside and the Cliffside. There was only one gate to the castle.
Several of these were magic towers built by Tower Mages of the Kingdom. These Tower Mages raised a huge anti-magic barrier over the Fortress, preventing any spells from smashing their walls. Even if a force of Mages a hundred times that of the Defenders bombarded the magic barrier, they wouldn't be able to break it, thanks to the quality of magic towers.
The Fortress took three years to build, and according to some whispers among the soldiers, it had also taken the same number of years of the national budget. It stood as a testament to the magnitude of the Kingdom of Black's desire to keep the invading Antlatur out. Roderick knew that the Fortress had never been taken in Siege before. The Fortress had several large granaries, the largest of which was located in the Drum Tower. This kept the Garrison well supplied for a long Siege; it also kept the Garrison down, only numbering 2000. Roderick had also picked these men himself from the best and bravest of the third division but he still had no confidence in holding the Fortress.
The Antlatur besiegers had been growing in number for the past few days, starting with only maybe 30,000. However, that number had now ballooned to 90,000. Which meant only one thing- the other fortresses had fallen. The third division only had 12,000 men divided among several small and large fortifications across the border. Although not quite as strong as Eldon's gate, these fortifications should have bought time and held on for a lot longer than they did. But Roderick still needed more confidence in the men he sent to these fortresses.
The third division comprised the dregs, both in officers and soldiers. The First or the Second Division didn't want these soldiers for poor performance or bad behavior. Usually, the soldiers would have been sent to the reserves; however, after raising the third division, they were promoted to full-fledged soldiers. These were hardly men who could be relied upon. In addition, the officers were in the same circumstances. They were people that the first or second divisions, for whatever reason, didn't want. These garrisons might have surrendered for all he knew, not that he did know since the enemy had cut him off from the outside world.
He might have one of the most formidable strongholds in the entirety of the Eastern continent, but he didn't have enough men to defend it against 90,000 soldiers. Of course, this might be a fake-out, as the enemy sets up more tents than they had troops for. But even then, he doubted his ability to defend Eldon's gate. He glanced up at the blue sky above him, but there weren't any white clouds; instead, he saw a few dark ones. “I suppose there's no better time to die for one's Nation.” Roderick had spent the past few days raising the morale of his troops, and even if they were the dregs, most of them would likely fight to the death.
It was only just past Dawn when the Antlatur attack began. They can only attack from three directions, as one was facing the Mountain Pass. The enemy had brought catapults. Although not as powerful as trebuchets, they still flung heavy rocks at the wall, which primarily smashed harmlessly against the thick walls.
The main assault came in three waves, starting with the archers, javelin throwers, and finally, the heavy Infantry. Antlatur came in teams of two. The first team carried shields and the second cowered behind the first, holding a heavy sack. The sacks would be used to fill in the trench in front of the curtain wall. The first two waves of archers and javelin throwers were meant to suppress the archers on the wall.
However, Roderick was an experienced Commander, and he'd already expected the enemy to use such a tactic, so he positioned all his archers in the towers, where they were protected. He equipped his heavy infantry with crossbows. Crossbows were much less dangerous than bows, as they could be infused with a lot less Magic given the smaller size of bolts. They also generally couldn't be enchanted like arrows. However, crossbows took little training. Roderick trained his men on how to use crossbows just for this moment. So, the enemy archers and Javelin throwers would have a much harder time punching through the heavy equipment of his Infantry.
The Archers began firing from their towers, protected from enemy fire, while he had the Infantry use their crossbows. The Archers had been told ahead of time to focus on the enemy archers and Javelin throwers. This was for the sole purpose of killing them, killing as many enemies as possible. Roderick no longer cared about winning; he only cared about taking as many enemies as possible to the Grave.
The archers in Javelin throwers had armor, and the enemy heavy infantry had Shields, but screams would ring whenever a bolt or an arrow found a gap in their defenses. Roderick was on the front line wielding a crossbow. Besides him, his aide-de-camp Frederick Loumire was also wielding a crossbow.
Frederick fired his crossbow, which streaked red as it traveled through the air. It smashed into an Antlatur magic Shield, shattering it in one blow. Roderick pulled the trigger on his crossbow. He aimed his bolt perfectly. It flew directly for the same Soldier who had just had his Magic Shield broken by Frederick. The boat flew through the air, pulled down by gravity. It went below the man's heater Shield and pierced directly into his unarmored thigh. He screamed as he fell to the ground.
After firing, Roderick put his crossbow to the ground and pulled the lever back, successfully cocking the crossbow; after that, he slid a bolt into the stock. The whole process took only 4 seconds. Roderick had been trained on the crossbow for years, although it still wasn't his weapon of choice.
Antlatur continued pressing forward despite the casualties. When the men with the sacks reached the trench, they threw them in before running back as fast as they could. Roderick estimated that 1/4 of the enemies had been killed or injured just in this run alone, and judging by the looks of it, they would need at least four more runs before they filled the trench up.
The enemy Javelin throwers and archers did some damage to his own forces, but the arrows primarily glanced off their armor and only left minor injuries. While the javelin throwers did some damage, they took heavy casualties. Thanks to the black archers. Wave after wave of Infantry crashed against the walls, filling the trenches and retreating as fast as they'd come. They left scattered under the wall, hundreds of injured and dead. A few tried to help their comrades, but most of them didn't make it back alive.
Antlatur paid a bloody price, but ultimately, they filled the trench. Their attack then began in earnest as units of soldiers carried Siege ladders to the walls while a battering ram was pushed up against the gate. The mountain prevented heavier Siege equipment like Siege Towers from being brought up against the walls, but a battering ram and ladders were still a threat. So the Blacks responded by firing bolts and arrows, lobbing anything that they could find, especially anything flammable, at the enemy forces.
They managed to do some damage, but ultimately, the ladder still made it to the wall. Despite their best efforts to push them down in some places, Antlaturs made it to the top of the wall. But time after time, they were driven back. This process repeated itself numerous times, and neither side could gain a definitive advantage. Infusing his Blade with magic, Roderick stabbed a man who had just finished climbing the ladder. He stabbed from the side, which wasn't protected by his shield. He aimed for his neck, unprotected by his helmet. The sword plunged through the man's neck, and he ripped it out. In death, his fingers clutching the ladder loosened, and he slipped from it, falling and colliding with another man behind him.
But Roderick knew that this was only the beginning. He glanced over the chaotic battlefield, where enemy soldiers were swarming the ladders and raising new ones. His eyes landed on the battering ram approaching the gate. The Gatehouse had two towers full of archers. Despite the heavy fire, the battering ram still reached the gate.
“Frederick,” he shouted. Take any reserve knights and sally out of the sally port. Smash that battering ram.” It was a mission on which he would almost certainly die, but Frederick saluted without a word and ran down the steps to the yard below. “May Noel's Gates open to you.” he prayed for Frederick before he died.
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Frederick found knights just like he had been ordered to. Some of these knights had yet to go to battle, and some returned because they were injured only to be healed. He managed to scrounge up just under 36 of these knights to join him on his suicide mission. The sally port was wide enough for one man riding a horse the pass. The walls traveling through were lined with murder holes, and two gates blocked their path. The last gate was guarded by a knight, especially a sign to guard this particular gate and open it for any allies.
Frederick rode in front; usually, this wouldn't be advisable, but this was a suicide mission with one clearly stated goal. Even if he died, it wouldn't have affected much. The arrow slits around the sally port prevented any significant concentration of forces. So, the group rode freely outside of the Fortress.
“On me, on me!” Frederick shouted once he reached the no man's land between the walls and the enemy lines. There was no point in positioning soldiers in this no man's land as they would get shot for no reason; instead, the reserves would reinforce the assault whenever more troops were needed. As a result, no one was there to stop them from assembling in that no man's land. Frederick noticed out of his eye that the enemy reserves were moving. He also saw one of the assault captains yelling something, but he didn't care.
The enemy Javelin throwers did start throwing at them, but the knights' heavy armor and high levels of magic prevented them from doing much damage. Knights were nobles who would awaken their magic at a young age, so they had longer to train and grow their magic than ordinary soldiers—making it difficult for regular soldiers to do real damage even with heavy weapons.
Frederick pointed at the man he named Vice Captain. He didn't even know the man's name. But he appeared to be in his 40s, so he had just been named Vice Captain because he was the oldest person in the group. He also had the blue turtle of House Seamond. “Take the rear,” he shouted to be heard over the noise. I'll take the front, and if I die.”
“I'll take command, sir, and smash the battering ram at all costs,” the knight of Seamond shouted back.
“Good man. Let's go make these Antlatur bastards know the meaning of our words!” He shouted loud enough for the whole unit to hear before raising his Lance and screaming at the top of his lungs. “Charge for the battering ram for the kingdom of black.”
“Noel!” they shouted back the name of the Kingdom's Patron God.
Frederick looked at them and nodded before they'd been scared, but now the adrenaline was pumping through their veins, and their patriotism had been ignited. He felt his own adrenaline pumping through his veins and washing away any remaining doubt or hesitation. Frederick served in the military for 11 years. He had learned how to die a long time ago. “They're nothing like the gilded Knights of Antlatur. These are brave men. Together, we can make this a battle worth singing about.”
The Cavalry skillfully rode their horses around the curtain wall, avoiding the Infantry assaulting the walls and the javelins thrown at them. As they rounded the bend, the battering ram, which had just reached the wall, came into view. Frederick raised his Lance and lowered it. “Charge!”
“Noel,” the Knights of Black screamed out their war cry. The mage Frederick had brought along with him cast an antimagic barrier, protecting the cavalry from any surprise magic attacks. As their Battle Cry rang out, the battering ram crew noticed them hastily grabbing for Shields and swords, trying to get into formation, but it was far too late.
The distance between the cavalry and the battering ram closed quickly to 200 ft 100 ft. By that time, Frederick could see that they were scared, and rightly so, a knight in full plate could quickly kill five ordinary soldiers. Although the age of knights single-handedly turning the tide of a battlefield had ended, ordinary soldiers were still not their match, especially without a proper formation. One smarter or more cowardly soldier, sometimes it's hard to tell the difference, dropped his shield and sword, turned, and ran.
“When one runs, they all run.” Frederick thought with savage glee. The quote by countless generals and officers proved its truth once more as more men threw down their swords and ran for the hills.
Their officer desperately yelled something, trying to get them back into the formation or what formation he had to begin with, but to no avail.
Frederick's Cavalry crashed into the few brave enough or the few slow enough not to have fled yet. Frederick thrust his Lance forward at the right man. He blocked it with his shield, but the forces of the blow still broke Lance and sent the man stumbling onto his rear. He thought he heard the snap, but he might have been mistaken. Another soldier in front of him slashed at his horse. Little did he know his horse was a war horse. His horse was trained to kick and bite, and that's becoming a weapon unto itself. His horse did just that and caved the man's skull in, Helmet and all.
Frederick drew his Cavalry saber and rode his horse towards the officer in charge. The Kingdom of Black distinguished its officers and knights simply with red cloaks from the ordinary soldiers' black cloaks. Although knights and officers were permitted to wear their house emblem, it was confined to a small brooch, and for everything else, they had to wear the banner of the Kingdom. Antlatur Nobles prefer the old feudal style, wearing highly decorated armor suits and gem-encrusted swords. The officer in question wore gold-trimmed armor and a helmet. He had a sword encrusted with a ruby. His house symbol was worn proudly on his breastplate, three white seashells.
The officer brandished and infused his sword with Mana. Frederick's sneered under his helmet. His mana was lacking, and he wasn't a competent officer, as most of his men had fled in fear. “He's far too green to be my opponent.” Frederick moved forward and slashed his sword. The man blocked it with his heater shield and then stabbed his sword toward Frederick, who maneuvered out of the way before slashing again. They continued this deadly dance for five more turns before Frederick broke the man's mana shield.
A person can only use about 50% of their Mana. If they used more, most people would faint or even die. A person's skill was often determined by how they could utilize their Mana most efficiently. The shield was only there to protect someone from being instantly killed, and it was imperfect as a first layer of armor. But this officer wasn't skilled, as he utilized at least 20% of his total Mana on his shield alone. They were leaving him lacking in physical augmentation or blade infusion. Within three more blows, Frederick's blade went through the man's neck, and his body spasmed, spurting out blood before falling to the ground and twitching. Frederick might have kept him for ransom, but if he had taken him hostage, he just would have been released.
Once the man was dead, whatever troops had stayed around and hadn't been killed yet quickly fled, leaving only the battering ram. Frederick saw his men go after the fleeing enemies. “don't pursue!” he yelled. Some heard him and came back, but two of the knights kept up their pursuit either because they didn't hear him or didn't care. But Frederick had no time to worry about them.
Frederick yelled at the mage, “Blow that thing up or set it on fire. Take your pick. Just destroy it.”
“I can't, sir, someone is casting anti-magic.” Frederick glanced at the battering ram but saw no one hiding in it.
However, the knight of Seamond yelled, “The enemy Mage is hiding in the roof of the battering ram.” He pointed at 2 of the other knights: “You and you. Get in there and kill him.” The two knights pointed out, hastily dismounted and rushed over, peering under the battering ram. Sure enough, they yanked down a mage who attempted to use magic on them, but a gauntlet fist to the face quickly shut him up.
The knights looked like they were going to take him prisoner, so Frederick quickly yelled, “Don't bother, just kill him.” One of them grunted with dissatisfaction but still drew his dagger and plunged it into the man's throat. He glanced at the mage. “Blow it up now.” the man had raised his wand again before Frederick could even finish speaking.
“Everyone get back. I'm going to use Fireball.” It took him a minute to cast the spell. Mages were generally categorized by the tier of spell they could cast. Typically, one's actual tier was lower by one for their practical tier as it took them too long to cast, but it only took him about 30 seconds to cast Fireball. This means that his practical ability was close to that of third-tier Magic. Frederick felt terrible about getting such a talented Mage killed.
After everyone stood back, the mage said, “Fireball!” A magic circle, about 3 inches wide with eight glyphs on it, appeared in front of his wand. After a second, a ball of fire about the size of a man's head appeared and shot towards the battering ram. The fireball exploded, destroying the battering ram and many of the dirtbags they've used to cross the trench in front of the drawbridge. The fireball left nothing of the battering ram but charred remains and ashes.
“Should we return to the sally port?” one of the knights asked nervously. Behind them, a unit that had previously assaulted the wall was forming, blocking their path to sally port. They lost one knight in charge 2, running off in pursuit of the enemy, and several others were injured. In addition, their trump card would be useless as Frederick could see that the unit forming up had already put up an anti-magic barrier. If they charge them, they might break through, but it would come with significant casualties, and other units would arrive to reinforce them.
Frederick shook his head no before speaking and pointing his sword. “Look there, and the golden stallion has dispatched his so-called Antler Knights.” A group of knights had been dispatched from the enemy Siege line, presumably to stop Frederick and his men's rampage. They were still getting into formation, but Frederick, with his enhanced vision, could see their armor clearly—dark green with gold accents and golden antlers off their great helms. Frederick heard rumors about this unit; they were knights that the King Antlatur personally selected. But worse, they were at least 300 strong.
Frederick looked at all his men. “I won't blame any of you for surrendering, but we won't make it back alive. The rest of you, we're going to charge the antler knights and take as many of them down to the underworld with us as we possibly can.” Frederick reined his horse forward and turned around, every single one of them following him. He gave them a single nod. One knight started speaking “it's an honor to…” Frederick raised the hand “no more words need to be spoken.” He turned back around in his saddle and raised his sword.
Frederick's attack bought more time for the Defenders, But ultimately, the delay didn't last. Another battering ram was brought up, and the assault by ladder continued. By the time the new battering ram had made it to the gate, there were no additional reserves to send to drive it away. The fighting continued into the afternoon until the ram finally bashed down the gate. Even then, Roderick gathered up whatever injured soldiers he could and made a desperate last stand in front of the gate. Those soldiers bought another hour.
However, the end for the Eldon Gate Defenders came when the catapults destroyed a section of the northern wall. There were no additional reserves to send to stop the oncoming tide of attackers, and what was left of the garrison surrendered, retreated to the Fortress underground, the Drum Tower, or were killed. Roderick himself became a prisoner of the enemy despite his best efforts.