‘What A disaster,’ Lucera grumbled to himself as he watched the two bodies be pulled towards him.

He could still feel the pair so they must still be alive, however diminished. Their underlings had done as was demanded. Quite why the pair of knights had decided to explode and catch fire in a hole, he did not know. And he did not care.

“Fix those failures. Kalesi, potions,” Lucera ordered as the pair of burned and maimed knights were placed before him. Their skin was blistered and boiled. Destra’s eyes nothing but runny streaks sliding down his cheeks.

“It won’t bring his eyes back. Give the hearing a lil bit. I hope.” The mage sneered in protest, but she wasn’t stupid enough to deny Lucera. Potions of healing magic were forced down the pair’s gullets. They would bring him his victory. No matter the price. 

“As long as they can hear what they must do. Or must we demote them to darklings too?” he questioned, disgustedly.

“Yeah sure, and don’t you fucking dare. Not after giving ‘em my potions. I’ll eat your fucking liver,” Kalesi snapped. 

Lucera believed the threat. Every bottle’s worth was measured in lives.

“Understandable.” He had not the time nor energy for dealing with the mad witch. Nor what remained of his competition before him. He supposed he should be pleased; fate had played him a risky hand, but a good one nonetheless.

Helvaran had posed a credible threat to his long term position. Not after tonight, though. He would not make it out of this battle alive. Lucera would see to it, personally if necessary. 

The pair before them screamed and writhed as skin re-knitted into ugly scars and mis-colored patches of dry, bare flesh.

‘I suppose they were not brewed for burns. Very well. Noted,’ he pondered as he worded his intent as best he could, then he waited. 

The screaming turned into gasps and groans, then complaining and yammering. The pair sounded like sniveling cubs. Destra curled into a ball, clutching a blade that was catching on his cheek. Helvaran looked up at him as if awaiting his execution.

‘Disgraceful.’ 

“Are your ears working, boy?” he questioned, murderous intent dripping from every word as he knelt just slightly before Helvaran.

“Yes, I can hear you. W-what happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. ‘Cause the way I’m looking at it, you have misstepped. Very badly indeed.”

“No no, the tunnels. We were going to use the tunnels for a covered assault.”

“There are no stinking tunnels up here, whelp. That’s the mines below. What did you think they would just leave something like that open for you?”

“I-in their rush they-”

“They are not in a rush. They were ready, so it seems at least. I’m in charge now. Disobey me, you will regret it. Just like the old days. That means you too, Destra.”

The blinded knight nodded promptly.

“And you’re gonna buy me some breathing room now. Raver is gone. Take his place. Keep ‘em there, push them, do not let them get any breathing room. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir,” the suddenly quieter Helvaran replied. Kalesi let out a chuckle behind him. 

“You get what’s left up there and the scraps of what survived your command. Good luck. You there!” he shouted, pointing to one of his accompanying vargulf riders. “Get Destra to the top of the tower. I do not care how.”

“But Luce-”

“MOVE! Or I shall retract your chance!” he roared into his lesser’s face. 

Helvaran sprang to his feet and set off for his objective. Behind him the four-eyed beast leaped upon the unsuspecting Destra, who flailed and writhed as he was grasped.

“Best be still before it stings you,” Lucera chuckled, the knight freezing in place. In a brief flutter of wings, he was whisked away. He could at least be counted on to stand and fight. It was the last thing he knew after all.

“How noble,” Kalesi scoffed, as the replacement force for the upper attack climbed into the night. She sounded downright disappointed.

“Of course, nothing but the best for our dear knights. Nalkech, pry open that door. Whatever killed the first terror, they cannot have many. Test the winds with some footsloggers. See what happens. Nilisa, lend him a wing, would you?”

“Of course. It is only timber. I will shatter it. Come, witch. Quick step,” the fellow knight ordered. Nilisa followed silently, head held low. With them went a sizable number of their remaining ready troops. 

“That leaves us, dear Kalesi. What say you? Want to find out what hides behind the dragon doors?”

“Call me that again and I will bite your cock off.”

“Bold of you to assume it would come out for you. Now, focus… Please.”

He could feel her weighing her options. Pondering if she could get away with killing him. Perhaps make it look like an accident. 

The answer was of course no. They could not lie to the master, so he would know what she did soon enough.

“There is no game to it: the black dragon. How do we kill it, though?”

“I was hoping you would have something that might help with it. Or shall we break out the lances?”

“I do not have enough poison for one that big… I’ll need one of the terrors.” 

“Of course you do.”

“Or maybe three… and get the lances anyway.”

---

“Gun ready!” Shiva roared as the charging handle slid forward with a reassuring thunk. The front line strained against the fresh onslaught. Some fresh shithead must have taken charge and they were coming on again. 

They had only just retaken the upper floors and had quickly been pushed back out of them. They lacked the numbers to hold all of the breached side rooms and corridors. 

“Duck and cover, ears!” Dakota shouted. Those in front did as they were told, kneeling down and hiding beneath their shields. The line of long arms stood and fired. Then the front line ran, wounded darklings nipping at their heels as they fled.  

Shiva waited patiently for her opportunity. Beside her stood Dakota and Anchor, the wounded husband returning to the fray. They would need to hold the enemy when they fell back. But now, it was time for their work to shine. Her work. Her metal…

“Fire!” Dakota shouted, slapping the smith on the shoulder. Her ears were guarded by Tom’s devices, and  all others covered theirs.

Shiva depressed the paddle and fire lit up the room. Twisted angry ruined faces stared back at her as thump by thump metal spikes split through the air. Blood and gore erupted as limbs were torn and armor buckled. 

The gun fed from its belt like a starved soldier, and it ran like fine clockwork. Swiveling side to side she kept the muzzle level, cutting through bedrooms, memories, enemies. They would purge their home of the invader. They would survive. And never again would she be the last one standing.

click

“Gun jammed!” she called out, without alarm. They knew it would. Their work was not yet complete. She pulled the pin from the tripod and put on the heavy glove from her belt. 

Dakota and Anchor stepped up to defend her as she hefted the weapon, a whiff of smoke pouring from her glove as she made for the next floor down. Behind her, Tink picked up the tripod and made to follow. It wasn’t so heavy. The man would manage.

Not much was heard from behind them, blessed silence brought by fire and steel. Even a dark knight would do well to be cautious against such a display of power. Now if only that bitch of a dragon would be kind enough to land in her sights.

---

“What the fuck was that?!” Helvaran shouted out as he cowered behind the stone pillar. Fire and fury had torn the whole floor apart. He had been saved by a stout stone column. Around him was nothing but the dead or dying. He had never witnessed such a spell, such a weapon. Whatever it was.

Gingerly, he peeked around his column. Down the corridor was only darkness and smoke. What little light there was came from outside. Fire and torchlight. Like so many pinpricks, the holes in the inner walls were clear, shining their dim light into the smokey air. The whole floor was a block of cheese… his darklings included.

Bodies lay scattered everywhere. Behind the shieldwall lay Destra. He had hidden behind the troops. Even that and his plate had not saved him. The invaluable set of lich plate was as ruined as the knight himself. Gaping holes were torn in the back of the plate as if by lances running him through, but smaller.

‘What in the lord’s name is this place? What is going on?’

He hid back behind the column, trying to think of what to do. He had more troops in the tower, but not enough to have them all wiped away like this. Another mistake and they may wipe his force out entirely. That would be the end of him one way or another.

He considered fleeing, turning to run. His mind merely brushed the thought. And then something brushed the back of his neck, a chill shooting down his spine as he straightened. The armor, letting him know he was dangerously close to displeasing his master. 

‘I-I promise I will not run. My orders. Advance, keep them here. I-I can do that. Push them, poke them. They didn’t destroy everything before we pushed them hard. How do I do that?’

He looked to his belt, flipping open the leather satchel at his side. There was nothing but broken glass and a dangerous goo inside. ‘I need… I need,’ he looked around him. It was carnage. You could always hide in carnage. He needed more carnage.

Yes… Yes that is it… ‘I need more darklings. Hide among the dead. They won’t dare advance. If they do, we will surround them. Axes, go through the floor, drop down amongst them. They cannot use their spell if they hit their own. Keep dwellers don’t shoot their own. Yes. Quickly, quickly.’

He hurried for the stairs. He would survive, whatever it took, he just had to hang on.

---

“Here they come again!” Esmeralda cried out as she took aim. Marching up the outer stairs came darklings, clad in heavy armor and bunched up into a shield ball. Spears and blades bristled like the spines on a hedgehog. “Shield ball!” she called, the others preparing to fire.

Flames flickered outside, showing the way for friend and foe alike. The message echoed from room to room down the hall to the floor below. There could be no doubt. They were coming for the doors.

When she judged the range right, she squeezed the trigger and a cloud of pellets was flung faster than the eye could see. There was a clang from down below, but like rain on a tent they skipped off into the night. Her only chance would be to slip through a gap and take an eye or throat. 

‘Damn those wretched creatures,’ the mother cursed as she opened the gun, smoke wisping from the breach as the next round was loaded. She did not have many left. It was no use to shoot for chances; they needed results. Arrows whizzed into the night, meeting the same fate. She could tell by ear. Some stuck, others did not.

“Now would be a good time to show off, Sapphire! We know you like to!” she shouted. An arrow sprung from the slit to her left, carrying a heavy load as it sailed into the night. And with a resounding thunk it hit and fell to the ground. 

“You bastard!” the silvered huntress roared in dismay, her weapon failing once again.

“It is okay, again!” Essy called out encouragingly. The wait was short. As the enemy marched on, another arrow streaked into the night, its strange howl betraying its presence. But there was no sound. No impact.

‘She cannot miss,’ Essmeralda thought, her confusion total for a mere moment. Then an explosion made her stagger as the walls trembled. It had come from below, directly below.

“They threw it back!” Sapphire called, terror in her voice. “Mage!”

---

“Oh that is what it was. Fascinating… seems smaller than the last,” Nalkech chuckled as he watched the now half-shattered door. It was never good when he chuckled. Only suffering was amusing to him. A twisted mind like the rest of them. Like everyone.

“Bit smaller than the first one. Nilisa, throw the first one as well.”

She did not answer. She had already drawn her circles, her runes. Another feather caught alight as the magic glowed in the night, blood dripping from her fingers. A darkling held the arrow for her to see. Fat and heavy. She strained, her knees growing weak as it rose into the sky. One hand clasped the arrow, another caught her source by the throat. The vargulf whimpered as its life was spent. Another flash, and the roar of an explosion rang through the night. 

She stared with empty eyes and an empty soul at what she had done. The door was broken. They could advance… She let them advance. More pain, more suffering… She was no different from the others.

The strange things flashed from the keep again. Weird weapons barking with fire. The shields and armor of their troops apparently withstood it. 

“Another, Nilisa!” Nalkech called out, as an orb was tossed from the keep towards their darklings. A firebottle, perhaps. She raised her hand, drew on her magic. Her spell glowed with stolen color as it stopped in its path. She would smash it against the slits, burn the archers within. She could contain the fire later or Rashan would make her do terrible things again, as a reward for the others.

‘He will do it anyway… won’t he?’

Then pain. Her spell flickered and faltered as she lost control, the orb dropping to the ground beside the keep. She fell to her knees surrounded by her guards and her living donors. She coughed and sputtered, unable to breathe. She clutched her neck and her hand came away blackened with blood. She stared at it. And she smiled, then she grinned.

‘Please let it be over, please. I will never ask for anything els-’ She spasmed and writhed as her crown drove spikes of pain into her skull. Her eyes streamed as she writhed, the pain whiting out her vision. They could not help her like this. They could not save her. She would defy them all. She would slay her master, she would show him his worst nightmares. She would strangle him in his sleep as she praised the gods in the skies above! 

The crown did not relent, and she felt hands on her. Tugging at her, forcing her to the ground. To be still. A familiar sensation. They overpowered her, forced her to do what they wanted. They put pressure on her neck. They would try to save her. She smiled at them, delirious from the pain and she cried with happiness.

She couldn’t breathe! She could not breathe… She gasped, her chest heaving for something that wasn’t there. Pinned on her back, she looked to the stars as the last lights began to fade. 

‘Thank you! Thank you. Thank you… Thank yo…’

---

“Oh thank the gods,” Tom said to himself as he raised his head off the scope. That had been a bit on the long side for what he felt comfortable hitting. He did not see where he had hit, but the spell stopped, so he had hit something. “She took the bait.” 

“Shall I throw a grenade next?” Esmeralda questioned, her serious demeanor betraying that she was working hard to keep her composure as well. “Or another rock to see?”

“Yes- Wait one moment. Should check if she’s dead or just down,” Tom replied, flipping down the night vision optic and looking into the darkness. The witch had hidden beyond where any light could reach her, surrounded by her darkling guards and her beasts. 

Luckily she had needed to see the keep to hit them, giving Tom his chance when the spell illuminated her. Now, though, she was obscured as her guards huddled tight around her body.

“Hard to say, actually. They are protecting her. She might not be dead. No shot… oh here comes the guy in charge… I won’t hit ‘em out there without light.”

“I have an idea! Sapphire!” Esmeralda called out as her claws scraped marks in the floor, launching her for the door. “Sapphire, we need fire arrows!”

‘Oh shit, that’s a good idea… Why didn’t I think of that? Either way, while they fix that…’ he murmured to himself, leaning to try and look further down at the ground through the slit left by the shutters. ‘They look about in position.’ 

He was standing at the window directly above the entrance to the armory below. Reaching into a box placed before the battle even started he pulled out a grenade. Wrapping the string around his finger a few times, he pulled and it came away. 

Fire and smoke sputtered from the top as he threw it out the window. “Grenade out!”

He stepped back into cover and plugged his ears. He waited with bated breath. Was there more than one mage? Had she recovered already perhaps? Then the explosion rang out from below, splinters and fragments being thrown around at blistering speeds.

“Good nade. Thank fuck for that. Best of luck down there, we did our part,” he muttered as he looked into the green tinted night once more. There was still commotion by the mage. 

---

“You four remain by the keep’s base, throw the fire bottles away from us, towards the keep if possible. Rest of you, follow me,” Nalkech ordered as the explosion rang out, blowing the vanguard to bits. Some seemed still able to fight, but they had sprung the traps well enough, exploding arrows and exploding fire beetle bombs. 

Without Nilisa they were exposed, and something had ripped her throat to bits outside the range of any bow. And in the black of night. Even if he succeeded, the punishment would be severe.

Putting faith in his shield and his subordinates, Nalkech charged the keep. He did not make it far before a strange clang rang out against his shield. But the mithril held. Then another clang, frighteningly quickly, as he ran. He had seen what befell those who flew too close to the keep. This was safer, but he must be swift. 

An arrow landed behind him, and fire flew above as his feet pounded the ground, ducking and dodging between the dead, darklings screaming out behind him as they took hits. Better them than him. A hissing ball landed beside him, sputtering smoke and sparks.

He kept running. The darklings would pick it up, if they had the time. He threw himself inside the gate house, past the first door, already blown apart. Then another explosion was heard, this one from above. They had managed to throw the bomb back. Excellent news.

Inside the space were two mostly unharmed members of the first vanguard, adorned with heavy steel plate armor and well sharpened weapons. They would do nicely. They needed to pressure the defenders.

“Step away from the door, make room,” he ordered as he got back to his feet. He could hear voices from inside. Inspiring speeches, no doubt. From his belt he pulled the small flask of sticky grey goo, and with a fluid movement threw it at the door. 

It shattered, spreading its contents across the wood and iron. Hissing and bubbling as it started to eat away the door.

He waited with bated breath, glancing between the door and the following troop of darklings clustering outside. They did their best to seek cover, but the pained screams and screeches showed they had not all managed to.  

Another explosion rang out in the night far away from the keep. Another bomb, this time thrown clear.

One of the iron braces fell away from the door and clattered to the floor. It was time. “You! Ram it,” he ordered coldly as he prepared a potion. The darkling wore only gambeson armor and a simple helm. It was no soldier, of little use anyway.

He stepped back, watching as the darkling rammed the door with all its might. But the door held. The darkling screamed as the acid ate away at its arms and face, the foul smelling sludge dripping onto the stone floor.

“Again. Bring it down.”

The screaming, seething darkling did as it was told. It moved back for another attempt, and with a run up threw itself at the door. Planks came loose but the door did not budge. It was barricaded from inside.

The darkling staggered back, its jaw and base of its skull now exposed as the acid ate away.

“Run away,” he ordered to it specifically. It turned to comply, a forearm falling away as it retreated. He did not want it dying here. It would be in the way.

“Rest back outside, cover under shields,” he ordered and his entire force cleared out to face the withering fire.

“I will make you pay for this,” he sneered as he downed his potion of dragon lightning. He had explosives too. It stung and pricked all the way down his throat, as he felt the power well up inside of him. It burned and it clawed at him as he drew his breath. And he let loose a blast at the ruined door.

---

“Brace that door. Keep them outside and let the others pepper them,” Rachuck called out. Kokashi and the young Kalix, from Deriva, leaned against the barricade to help brace it. On the stairs Ethera and Maiko stood ready, bow and rifle in hand. 

“It was just a little knock. Nothing to worry about,” the very young man said confidently, Kokashi looking less certain as they heard the desperate screaming from outside.

“It smells like acid, Rachuck.”

“It is, they are eating through,” the captain replied grimly. They would get through. They knew that much. But they must hold them as long as possible. “Careful not to touch it.”

There was another pound against the door, and the trio exchanged glances. “They have a battering ram?” Kokashi questioned, throwing a nervous look towards their door.

“Perhaps that is what the shield ball was hiding,” Rachuck offered. He had received brief reports from up stairs, the only eyes they had. How he wished he could have been able to see with his own eyes what awaited them. He still had no idea how they even got past the first door.

They pounded the door. Again then again. They were going quite slowly by Rachuck’s count. Either way, it mattered not. They would hold them and buy time. “How long does one of those strength potions last?” he questioned, forgetting in the heat of the moment his sister’s explanations.

“A few minutes I think she said. More if you aren’t doing anything,” Kokashi replied with evident nervousness.

“I have always wanted to try this.” Rachuck chuckled darkly as he got out the thin vial of luminescent potion. He knew the plan. There was every chance they did not make it out of this alive… He just hoped someone would tell tales of him in years to come.

“What’s that noise?” Kalix questioned as a strange hum was heard. Too late did Rachuck realize what the sound reminded him of.

“Get awa-”

A blast broke against the door, and the barricade along with the two guards were thrown into the room as Rachuck tried to cover his face.

As quickly and as violently as it arrived, it stopped. A lantern lay burning on the floor, smashed to pieces. Dust and rubble was all he saw as he took in the carnage. Then in a flurry he downed the strength potion and sprang forward.

“Kokashi!” 

He ripped and tore at the rubble, quickly uncovering his friend’s head. To his eternal relief there was  a cough and splutter as Kokashi started to kick himself free. “We need to go, now!” The captain started to dig out the rest of the man, wood and iron flying away with contemptuous ease.

He threw a glance at where Kalix may well be. A couple boards slid away as something stirred beneath. 

He couldn’t abandon him, could he?

“A little late for that, don’t you think?” a voice came from behind him, armored footfalls echoing. “Let’s see about you taking away our entertainment.”

The captain spun, raising his sidearm as a shot rang out from the stairs. Before him stood a pair of heavily armored darklings. One jerked back at the blow as they both raised shields to protect their master.

He sounded gleeful at what he was going to do next.

There was no time for thinking nor for plans. He aimed for the knight on instinct, but there was no path to the target. A slight adjustment left and he pulled the trigger. Lead shot sprayed into the face of a darkling, hopefully taking its vision away at the very least. 

It screamed and staggered as Rachuck drew his blade, moving to meet them. He must buy time as Kokashi frantically tried to crawl away towards safety, towards the stairs. Rachuck could not let any more enter the room. Three were already far too many.

“Oh I need to get myself one of those. Surround them! Get in close!” the dark knight bellowed as Rachuck braced his shield and charged. He put every ounce of strength he had into the hit as he shoved back the remaining armored darkling with such force it was sent flying back into its master, the pair falling back into the ruined doorway.

To his left the wounded darkling was looking around blinded, blood and gore running from under its helmet. With a quick side step he brought the tip of his blade up under its chin and thrust it through the thin mail, protecting its gullet. Fine craftsmanship, but not fit to stop such a brazen attack.

A flick sent the limp creature falling to the ground as he turned to re-engage the knight.

The knight showed no fear despite the setback, directing his underlings forward. They wasted no time as they charged him, two wide in the doorway. That he may well be able to manage. 

Blow for blow he traded, his enchanted blade battering aside the enemy parries and strikes like a maul, its inertia changing on command. The dark knight issued order after order as his irritation grew.

“Magic warriors! Wear them out!”

He smirked to himself for a moment. He had far longer than they believed. And while the plate armored darklings were clearly skilled sword fighters, the same could not be said of the lesser ones.

He managed to slay two of them in short order as the elite trooper thwarted his every attempt to put it down.

“I can do this all day!” he bellowed as he managed to run his blade up the wrist of the elite darkling, drawing blood.

“Duck!” the knight then bellowed to Rachuck’s total surprise.

The darklings responded immediately, falling to the floor like well drilled kids playing a game.

Rachuck raised his shield and made to crouch as the knight stood amidst his minions, already mid-throw. Behind him a shot rang out, followed by a roar of pain from the knight. 

“Dang it, bit left,” Maiko cursed, sounding quite unworried as the acid vial shattered against Rachuck’s shield. He closed his eyes as it sprayed about him, hissing and burning, acrid fumes ripping at his nostrils. He dared to open his eyes, seeing the darklings rise once more before him.

“Advance! Get me that staff!”

Rachuck staggered back, trying to open the range and buy some time to get rid of the shield. They were on him in a flash. Pouring through the doorway now.

“This way, sir! We have to go!” a young male voice called out from what must be the stairs. 

Backpedaling towards the stairs, he shook his shield, trying to release it, but the enemy would give him no reprieve. One weapon after another came in as he was forced to use both the blade and his disintegrating shield to parry.

With each battering hit, the pain grew and he moved too slowly. He was becoming surrounded. “Is this the best you can do? Four to one? Where is the fifth?” he roared out in challenge as the one to his front over exposed itself, a shield parry leaving its side open.

He thrust his tip up under the armpit and drove it home. The arm went limp and he smirked grimly as he pulled back once more. Too late did he notice that his shield had obscured an unarmored attacker advancing on his left. Its ax was already swinging around in a flat arc.

An arrow pierced the creature in the chest, but it did not relent. He bore the hit to his left arm, just above the elbow. The blade cut deep, bone shattering beneath.

He screamed in pain as he stumbled backwards, legs moving on instinct as pain made thought impossible. More shots rang out behind him, and the darklings screeched in chorus with him. The large axewielding woman grabbed his shield as a second arrow lodged in its snout. Its cold, beady eyes bore down on him, face twisted into a snarl. 

The shield had melted into his arm. It would not come away. Death was here for him as it pulled him in closer. He yanked himself away with all his might, claws digging into the floor and scoring marks as his arm tore and pulled away. 

He fell backwards, caught by caring hands which pulled him away towards safety. Guns barked, sending the darklings staggering once more, then shields came down in front of him.

“To the stairs. Hold them there! I’m taking charge. Get him to Quin!” Maiko bellowed as he popped up with the rifle shouldered and let off another round.

‘Sweet Tula… I… I lived… My arm… Why.’