“Second rank, fire!” Anchor called out as he ducked behind the barricade with the rest of the first rank. The move was well drilled. Ears were covered as guns roared, yet more darklings piled the dimly lit corridor, screaming and sputtering amidst the building smoke. 

Nearly as one the second rank pulled back their arms and Anchor stood with the others, shield braced as those behind reloaded. The enemy would come on once again; they had no spirit to break. The keep dwellers wielded spears and polearms, stabbing and smashing at the foe as they approached. Around them guns spoke and arrows flew out into the night through narrow slits, thinning the hoard as best they could.

Anchor did not know how long they had been fighting on up on the upper floors. It felt like an eternity. Holes had been smashed in the roof with heavy rocks letting them pour inside. The tower had been abandoned, leading them down into the corridors of the upper floor bedrooms. Here, they may funnel the enemy nicely.

The darklings were doing their best to push them down further into the keep. Anchor would be damned if they gave another inch cheaply. 

Enemy arrows whistled down the corridor as they hid behind their shields, shafts striking home. None went through his own. To his right stood Jackalope, clad in her nearly impenetrable armor. To his left stood Balethon, and behind him was Luke, ready to help should there be the need. Balethon let out a yowl of pain as he adjusted his grip on his shield, a tip having found its way through into his hand. 

Anchor kept an eye on him for a moment, but the young man showed no sign of wavering as he braced once more. Yet more arrows peppering them as the call came from behind.

“Ready!”

“Second rank, fire!”

The second rank stood as they ducked, but only one gun fired. Anchor snapped his head back to look at them in surprise. They simply stood there, staring into the gloom, weapons raised.

“Nothing to shoot!” Bolinda exclaimed as she searched for a target. Then an arrow struck her in the shoulder as Herron fired blindly down the hallway.

The greenhorn stumbled back, grasping the shaft, roaring in pain. Phospheno quickly going to her side. “Fuck they got you good girl”

“Second rank, remain in cover!” Anchor ordered, turning his attention back ahead. They could see little in the gloom and smoke. She had been right to hold her fire. They could not waste the ammunition.

He peered over the rim of his shield, trusting in luck and his helmet to save him as he watched. Grunts of pain and effort betrayed that their enemy was not idle. Then from the smoke fell a body. Then another, and another. Ashen gray and leaking dirty blue blood. More and more bodies rolled towards them, tumbling down a slope. A slope of corpses or the still dying.

“They are using the dead as a barricade!” he called out, realizing with horror what he was seeing. 

“Halt their advance. First rank! Over the top!” He led by example, hoisting himself from behind their cover and advancing to the pile of bodies in a pair of flying steps. Jacky followed close behind, the young men on his left scrambling to keep pace. Braced behind the shield, he thrust his spear along the edge of the moving pile as another still screaming body was hoisted over by his comrades. The tip of the spear slid under the corpse and into an arm holding it up and a pained screech was heard. Then Jacky’s polearm hit the body, pushing it back into the faces of the darklings. Rising over the top she drew her revolver left handed and fired at the entrenched darklings, shield forgone. Arrows glanced from her metal as she gave her fiery reply. 

Anchor dropped his spear and drew his own shortened shotgun and added its fire, carefully peeking over the edge of the corpse pile no more than was needed. The enemy archers sought cover against the onslaught, one crying out in pain as it was hit.

Balethon and Luke moved up as Anchor retreated to reload, grabbing his spear as he went, looking to the second rank. Bolinda was injured but not cripplingly so. He needed her in the fight. 

“Hold them here,” he ordered, retreating to the barricade once more. “Break it off, you can still fight.”

“You heard the man” Pho replied, and before Bolinda could protest the shaft was snapped and she was helped to her feet, clearly in deep pain.

“They breached the inner walls!” The shrill cry came from behind them. The corridors were not the only path through the keep. With axes and time, any wooden wall could be brought low.

“Retreat to the stairs!” Anchor bellowed as he reloaded his sidearm, holstering it once more. He reached for his spear as they hurried back to the barricade to reorganize. The message spread echoed all along the floor. Those  in the adjacent rooms fleeing to the next floor to resume the fight.

Balethon and Luke moved more slowly than ideal, but the line formed, Jackalope picking back up her shield as the enemy pushed over the mound of corpses to give chase. Spears stabbed and guns spoke, fire and noise buffeting the forward rank as Anchor smelled the burning wool of his coif. 

They moved back orderly, but too slowly.

A door behind them was flung open, slamming into the back of Jackalope and revealing a flanking force that had made it through. The impact had sent her sprawling, but she still kicked the door back into their faces, sending it flying off its hinges. “Mother fuckers!”

Anchor held his ground to give her breathing room. Shield raised he stabbed at the advancing darklings, trying to hold them back. He did not hit his mark as Jacky hurried to her feet. 

From the side room a darkling sprang at her as she tried to retreat, latching on like a wild animal.

“Forward rank, hold!” Anchor ordered, hoping to call on Luke and Balethon to help them as he defended Jackalope’s rear. His spear was grabbed and pulled from his grasp and he was forced to sidestep an enemy spear point, suddenly alone against the onrushing enemies. Drawing his blade, he would stand for long enough.

Behind him, Jacky clasped the assailant by the wing and ripped it apart like a toy, flinging the remains back into the side room with a roar, eyes burning bright in the gloom. 

“Useless sack of shit. YOU’RE MINE!” she roared out. Reaching into the room, her armored gauntlet caught a blade mid swing. She pulled its owner into a devastating punch which likely crushed its skull on impact. “NEXT!”

“Jackalope, retreat!” Anchor called out as he parried up an axe blow destined for his throat. 

“M-Me next! Hello!” a clear, but utterly deranged voice spoke with glee. Then Anchor heard a small crack and they were enveloped in thick smoke. 

Anchor looked back to see what had happened, but saw nothing but billowing darkness as the voice screamed with maniacal glee. “ME NEXT! ME NEXT!” The sound of plate clashing against plate was heard. Jackalope grunted as the voice cackled with delight, then it grunted letting out a frustrated hiss. “Where hole! I wanna enjoy you! Blood kill! Kill for Rashan! Kill for happy time!”

Anchor’s attention was divided as Luke called out, “Where are you sir?!” His voice panicked. 

“Make for the stairs, I shall-” Anchor was cut short as a spearpoint caught his helmet, tearing chainmail as it lodged itself in his jaw and he felt teeth shatter.

The shock of pain lasted for but a moment as he tapped his magics, clarity returning as quickly as the spear was pulled back to ready for another stab.

He deflected it upwards with his shield and counter thrust his blade, but it found only chainmail and padding, failing to pierce.

The guns fell silent with the thick smoke. The darklings would be equally blind. They could disengage now and retreat. But Jackalope could not be left behind. 

The sounds of struggle between her and her assailant did not betray a winner as both sides were frustrated by the other. 

‘It must be a knight,’ Anchor thought, terror washing over his mind as he tried to find a way to help.

Then a shot rang out; sharper, crisper. Tom’s rifle. And another, and another, and another. The human dumped his magazine as Anchor dove for cover, ears whining as he pressed down tight, hoping to preserve his hearing. 

The cursed creature screamed in pain as the clangs of hits rang out, metal striking metal. Then there was gurgling and mewling as damage was done. 

“Empty, kill it Jacky!” the human called out, and Jackalope grunted and strained as the creature screamed. Then an audible crack and only white noise remained. “Now run the fuck away! My voice, this way!”

Anchor crawled for the voice, resisting the urge to touch his face. There was no time for vanity. Once he cleared the smoke, safety was in sight. He stood and rushed for the stairs where the second rank were watching with worried faces, weapons ready but the smoke denying them any targets. Arrows whistled from behind and he was caught once more in the back of the knee, padding doing little to save the joint as metal pierced where it should not go.

He stumbled then carried on, limping as his magic denied him the sense of pain. He had no time for whimpering. He tried to hobble down the stairs as fire was opened beside him, helping hands lifting him off his feet and moving him down into safety. 

---

“Do you need the goggles again?” Edita questioned as Tom reloaded. 

“No, keep an eye on the floors below. I want to know if they get inside.”

“Immediately,” the artificer replied, moving down the stairs enough so she might get a good look without too much in the way to interfere with her magical headwear. It was a damn shame those didn’t fit him, but he could peer through one lens if she held it up for him. Far from perfect, but it had saved Jacky’s life. 

“Reform the lines! Jacky, Luke, Balethon, brace shields, fire over shoulder! Tom, take Bolinda’s place!” Anchor called out, the stubborn guard refusing to let his injuries put him out of the fight. Or at least command.

“Yes sir,” came the replies as the melee fighters once more took the front, providing the gunners cover to load behind.

Unkai was fussing over the damage to Anchor. It was quite severe, especially his face. It looked like he had been whacked with a hammer or something. Still, he was in command and seemingly still in possession of his senses. And Tom agreed they should hold the stairs for as long as they could. 

“Bolinda, to the hall. We require relief. We cannot hold here for long. And spare ammunition should they have any.”

Tom glanced to his bandoleer before popping up to take a shot at a stupidly charging darkling, sending it sprawling across the floor. “Ammo check, count ‘em out!”

“Nine rounds! Eleven! Eight, Four,” came the replies. 

“We need rifle rounds, immediately. They aren’t shooting below. Steal it if you have to,” Tom said as he popped up, looking for his next target.

There was a moment’s hesitation, Tom suspecting Bolinda was looking to Anchor for approval.

“Do not stand there. Move, Bolinda, at once!” the guard scolded, confirming his suspicions.

“Yes sir!”

Then a crack was heard from outside followed by orangy light shining through the windows. It illuminated the corridor quite nicely, the thick black billowing smoke clear for all to see now. Some sort of smoke bomb. Whatever that knight had been up to, he was prepared for close quarters fighting. ‘You lucky bastard,’ Tom sighed to himself, looking to Jackalope, who was peering up over the edge of her shield. 

Her armor bore many new scratches. Perhaps the knight’s work. He thanked his lucky stars the knight was ready for a close quarters fight, but not for a brute like Jacky clad in adamantine plate. 

“What the hell was that?” she broke out, understandably so. Many heads looked to the source of the light pouring from open bedroom doors. 

“I think that was one of the bunkers,” Tom replied, allowing himself a chuckle at the thought. “That’s two mines down, doing good so far.”

“A gold coin says they are dumb enough to find the last one too,” Jacky snickered as the mood lightened a touch, though there was pain in her voice.

“Sure, why not? I owe you one already.”

“It’s alright, you get a silver for shooting him first,” she replied, keeping vigil on the hallway ahead. They could hear the darklings chittering and screeching, but nothing came through the smoke. “Is it just me or are they not really coming anymore?”

“I was about to say… I suppose that was the commander.”

“Or they cannot see through the smoke,” Luke offered as they all waited. 

“At most it may only be the commander of this one assault. Do not advance. It may be a trap. Hold… EDITA! Get back here!” Anchor shouted back down the stairs, an affirming sound coming back in reply.

“Do you think they left the bastard? I wouldn’t mind his helmet on my wall.”

“Patience, Jacky. We shall have our trophies I am sure.”

“Oh yeah can I just say that was wicked, Jacky? You ripped one of them in half.” Luke spoke with awe.

“And you didn’t run away. I’d give you a hug if I could.” Jacky chuckled, always happy to take the compliment. “Broke the knight’s neck, too. There was definitely something very wrong with that guy. He was strong as hell. But I broke his ass all the same.”

“Well they do look like they are into some kinky shit,” Tom added, Jacky sparing a glance back at him.

“Bro… what the fuck?”

---

“We still have two keeping chase, closing a little bit.  Good work Jarix,” Ray called out from his back as he beat steadily. He did not reply. He didn’t need to. What he needed to do was focus on his breathing. This was going to be a long night, too.

Today had been a long fucking day already. So much flying. And fighting. His wings burned. His throat was dry and coarse. He couldn’t even really see, and they could see him. At least he had Ray with him. And they had another surprise in store for them.

“Steady, they are coming up. Can you see them?”

“Not really,” the unsure voice of Radexi responded as he sat ready on the gun. “How far away are they?”

“Two hundred meters I think… I am sorry, I am not very good at this.”

“You are doing great, Ray. Slow a touch Jarix, lure them in.” He didn’t need to be told that twice, he spaced out the beats just a little bit longer, giving himself time for deeper breaths. “Light is ready.”

Jarix looked to the keep and the still smoldering remains of the siege camp as his only two markers for where he was. Darkness had set and clouds had taken away the moonlight. Near enough the worst possible conditions to be fighting darklings in. And they likely only got one shot at this. At the very least, the terrors could not survive to tell others what had happened. Or more rightly whoever was directing them.

Silence reigned as Ray updated the range. One-fifty meters, one hundred meters. Jarix sped up just a touch to give them time at just the perfect distance. The terrors behind him screeched in annoyance, perhaps matching his pace on the final sprint to catch their prey.

“Fifty meters,” Ray called out, fear creeping into her voice. He could not help but look back. His large eyes saw better than most in the night. There they were´, he could just make them out. A pair of terrors chasing in the gloom, a single rider each, heavily armored. 

“Now!” Zarko ordered, the click of Tom’s flashlight lighting up the night like a magic spell. Then came the fire.

Radexi rattled off a salvo at the lead target, and he caught it well. Several rounds hit it in the chest, neck, and head.

In the brief pause that followed the second tailing terror broke off, fighting desperately to get clear and escape. It presented an excellent profile to Radexi as he pulled the trigger again. 

Jarix tensed along his spine in anticipation and the gun spoke once again, letting off another burst as the target veered off. It was caught in the back and side, one round tearing through the rider with ridiculous ease.

“They are wounded, give chase,” Zarko ordered as firing stopped. Jarix leaned into the turn to come around behind the more intact terror. He felt their first target was truly done for. He did not strain too hard, as he had to preserve what strength he had left, and they would never escape him now.

“They are both diving. One is spiraling. Uhm, first one. The first one I think is dead, and its rider is just flopping around.”

“Excellent shooting, Radexi,” Zarko praised as Jarix came around.

“The second one is flying back towards the camp, but not very well. I think it is trying to stop the dive.”

“Going alongside,” Jarix spoke up. “Give me bearing.”

“Two o’clock low, range uh… Three hundred meters. I think.” 

Jarix maintained his turn, letting himself slip into a gentle dive. He could not see the Terror, but soon. 

“Lower, he is falling faster than us. But not flying very fast. Uuuuh… Two hundred meters”

Jarix maintained his pace and pulled slightly to the right as he steepened the dive. “Passing on right,” he called out as he caught a glimpse of the creature, a touch of light silhouetting it against the ground. “In sight. Ray, look for others. Ready?”

“Gun ready.”

“Light ready.”

“Looking.”

The creature was clearly severely wounded. It may not even make it back to the camp alive. But they were not taking chances. 

The creature tried to turn away from him but it was barely flying as it was. “Now!” 

Once again Zarko turned on the light and Radexi brought the gun to bear, five or six rounds flying out into the night before it stopped, Radexi letting out a grunt.

“Jammed!” he called out, hands quickly going to work as Jarix heard the clicking of metal components. It had done its job, though. For now. The terror crumpled as it fell from the sky screaming, wings flapping uselessly. 

“Target down.”

“Good work, fix that weapon. Jarix, we need altitude and clear skies. Ray, find a hole in the clouds. We want no surprises.”

“Yes Zarko, over there.”

“Over where?”

“Sorry, seven o’clock. Clear skies. It’s a bit away though.”

“That will do. Jarix slow cruise, seven o’clock. We must be ready for the main event.”

“Seven o’clock,” Jarix responded, leaning into the sweeping left turn, beating steadily as he started the slow climb back up again. ‘At least I’m not cold.’

---

In the darkness where light did not reach, stood Rashan and his remaining lieutenants. They watched the fires burn as Kalesi sneered, watching the sky through spellpowered eyes. 

“They are falling from the skies. He never touched them. Spellcraft my lord. Powerful ancient spellcraft, I am sure of it,” the sneering mage informed them. 

“And I do not feel Raver anymore… the annoying tick is gone at last… Very well. Very well, the traps have been sprung. Lucera, what say you?” the dragon questioned, putting on a stoic appearance. He could not be rattled by such minor setbacks. Though the loss of no less than three terrors would be felt for the whole year’s campaigning. 

“I would not be so sure. The enemy is clearly well prepared and exceedingly well equipped. These are no keep dwellers at all.”

“… My thoughts exactly,” Rashan was quick to agree. Of course these were no mere keep dwellers, especially frontier keep dwellers no less.

“This is an inquisitorial stronghold. The inhabitants are likely long departed. It could not be the guard or the church. They carry no markings of such other than the blue dragon. And we know his path here… They will not surrender their prize for any cost.” 

“How does that change anything? It is still just a keep., Gehena questioned accusingly. “We cannot be stopped by a small pile of rocks like that.”

“Of course not Gehena, we shall simply have to work a little harder,” Rashan replied wisely, lowering his head towards Lucera. “Isn’t that right?”

“Of course, my liege. We shall take the keep… This may prove expensive.”

“We must have the oracle. Alive. And prisoners. We require prisoners.”

“I shall see what can be done. It would be a great boon if you were able to see off the blue. I believe he is still breathing fire,” the dark knight spoke, impudence creeping into his tone. 

Rashan sneered at the underhanded remark. “Of course he breathes fire, so do I. He sees in the night, so do I. I shall keep our skies clear. You bring me everything of value inside that pile of rubble. Burn the rest. And find Helvaran and Destra. I still feel them both. Let them try to atone for their failure if you think it useful.”

“Of course my lord. They will be very useful,” Lucera replied as he beheld the keep. He had not failed before. He would not fail today. As long as he did not get any ideas about who was in charge. “Nalkech, reinforce the top floors. Keep them busy, sell ground at a high price. We shall spread them thin.”

---

“Oh look at you Anchor. What did you do?” Nunuk lambasted, as if scolding a child. “You best heal well. I will not have an ugly mug for a grandson.”

Anchor did not respond as he sat down on the bed, looking weary.

“I only jest, now let me have a look at you. I take it this is very painful.”

“Yes Nunu, It is extremely painful… I believe I have broken my jaw. Luckily only one side.”

“Right, brace yourself,” she said, giving him a moment to use his magics before she touched his jaw. Applying pressure it indeed moved if only just a touch, confirming his suspicions. “Yes, you have indeed. I will have to set this. Then I believe a bottle will set you straight for the rest of the night.”

“Is this truly necessary? We do not have many.”

“And we have only one Anchor. You are necessary,” she responded. “But don’t you dare think of staying here… How goes it?”

“Well enough. I have been struck in the face as you can see and shot in the back of the knee. Their first attack was stopped and we are advancing. They will come on again. Most likely harder…”

“I see. Just be glad you stood up so well to the first test. You clearly do not hide behind your command. And most would not claim to be doing well enough looking like this. I am very proud of you. I knew you were a good pick. Dakota is rarely wrong,” Nunuk said, hoping to reassure the downtrodden man.

“That is not quite how I remember those early days,” the guard replied dryly, but not without some humor. He was not at death’s door then.

“I did have someone else in mind at the time… And no one likes to have their plans dismantled… besides, I have been told he has since fallen from grace a touch. Something about tax evasion,” she lied. In truth she had not heard a word from the Kylind family since she had been forced to reject their offer all those years ago. 

It had been for the best. Anchor had been a wonderful husband for Dakota. It would have been a damn shame to lose him now, just as she would need him most. 

“Are you ready? I am going to set your jaw so the potion may do its work.”

“Yes Nunu.”

“You know not to call me that when there are people around. Now be still. And do not speak.”

He made no further objection as he sat perfectly still. She clasped his jaw, pulling it outwards then setting it properly back into position. Closing her eyes she felt the flesh, she felt the bone. Pulling and tugging she started to knit. It wouldn’t be perfect. She had neither the time nor the strength. She would have a long night.

“… There, it will hold for now,” she said after a minute’s work. “Do not move your jaw, I will see to this arrow head.”

Arrows she had dealt with many times. Kneeling beside the man, she felt up his knee and the stump of shaft protruding from where it had pierced the padding of his armor. The lucky shot had evaded the plating fit to stop it. The hole was small, not much wider than the shaft, and even sided.

“It is a bodkin, I can pull it out. One, two, three.” With a quick yank, she ripped out the arrow, inspecting it for a moment, it was indeed a four sided bodkin. Running the tip against his armor it scratched well. “They are shooting steel. Well equipped, these darklings.”

Achor did not speak, remaining unnaturally still. He had felt nothing. The lucky bugger. Unbuckling the greave, she lifted the plate away and pulled aside the padding to lay her hand upon the leg. Reaching up she concentrated, feeling around inside the knee. Extensive damage had been done. Damage she did not have the time to mend.

“You will be in pain until we can mend this properly. The potion may help but try to be gentle on your knee. I will look at this later.” 

The man nodded gently as she held up the healing potion.

Now. Drink this. Carefully, or the bone may break as you drink”.

Anchor did not say a word as he took the bottle. She helped him drink, holding his jaw to keep pressure off the break. 

She closed her eyes to feel if it would do its job. And to sate her curiosity. It had been many years since she had felt a potion heal bone. Her work done by another hand. A stupid hand that acted with strength rather than brains. But the effects were profound as bone and tissue stitched back together again in seconds. 

“There, it went well. Now. You are needed, go on. You are free to go.”

“Thank you. Excuse me.” With that Anchor stood and she watched him leave the infirmary. She had feared they would already be swamped in wounded, but here things remained relatively calm, for now.

“So Nunu, do I get a bottle too?” The insufferable voice of Balethon was heard as Unkai worked on his wounds. Not long before he had been screaming like a child. 

“No you do not. Is he fixed yet?”

“No I am sorry Nunuk, it cut up the muscle quite badly.”

“That will not kill him. Balethon, out you go. He will need his strength later.”

Unkai looked a touch ashamed as Balethon glanced between the pair of them. “You know, not being able to raise your shield arm can kill a man last I checked.” 

“Yes, it can. Now go, and pray you don’t find out how.”

He didn’t argue any further, taking his shield that stood leaned against the bed and proceeded on out the door. 

‘Blessed Itova I beseech you. Do not let me regret saying that.’

---

“Tom, Jacky, they want you back up top. They are not giving in without a fight. Dakota, if you would not mind?” Junior beckoned as he came down from above. He was serving as Rachuck’s messenger. With Anchor wounded the captain had taken charge of regaining the top floors while those who had fought already were given a moment’s respite down in the grand hall.

“No, that is too many eggs in one basket. Tom and Jacky remain here, I shall go. Lothal,” Dakota shouted, looking at the young man who was busy washing out some of the minor cuts and scrapes Luke had suffered.

“If the situation changes I want you to fetch me at once. I do not find it likely they will only seek one path. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” came the prompt reply, the young man not abandoning his duties, sparing her only a quick look as he worked.

“Very good. Junior, inform Shiva and your father. Bring the big gun. Let us remove these pests.”

“Awe come on,” Jacky all but whined at the thought she wouldn’t be there for the main event.

“Go easy on it. We’ll need every round, and it will tear the place to shreds,” Tom reminded the gilded huntress.

“So will they. I do not want them having a foothold inside the walls when they come on again.”

“Not saying it’s a bad idea just… You know, short bursts.”

“I shall refer to the assigned gunners. But we shall try,” she all but snapped at him in reply from behind the dainty looking visor. She picked up her shield from the stout oaken table, Mithril armor glinting in the firelight as she went to join the fray.

“Don’t forget to hold your ears, Dak, it fucking hurts!” Jacky shouted after her, looking to the halberd leaned against her.

“You’ll get your share, I’m pretty sure of that Jacky,” Tom tried, feeling like he would rather avoid any more fighting that he had to. 

Those bastards were a scary prospect, but at the same time. There was nothing human about them. Normally it was the look on their faces as they saw their friends die that kept you awake at night. Darklings just climbed over the dead. A different kind of terror… At least nothing was lost putting out their lights for good.