Sara — Gate Rampart

  Sara gripped the splintered wood of the rampart until her knuckles turned white. Below, the kobolds hammered at the gate in a frenzy, claws raking iron and wood alike, crude weapons smashing against their last line of defense. Each impact sent a shudder through the wall beneath her boots. The great ironbound doors bowed inward, groaning as if they were alive and in pain.

  Casting spell after spell at these never-ending monsters had drained her stamina and magic to nothing. For every creature they brought down, two more seemed to take its place.

  Through the cracks in the wood she could see them: yellow, slitted eyes gleaming, slavering jaws snapping at the spear points they were thrusting desperately through the gaps. Every thrust bought another heartbeat. The air reeked of the sour musk of the horde.

  A boy beside her loosed a shaking arrow that vanished into the tide. It didn’t really matter anymore; they were out of time; she realized. There were just too many. Sara’s heart pounded in her chest at the realization. The boy who loosed the arrow, Michael was his name, looked to her, and she tried to project a semblance of strength as a mage of Blackfern. She whispered a prayer into the sky that none most likely would ever heed.

  Then, over the din, in the distance, she heard it, the thunder of hooves, the crack of reins, and a voice shouting orders. She turned, eyes wide, as a wagon crested the hill, canvas gone and two figures stood in the back. One figure wore bright armor that pulsed with light, drawing several of the monsters’ gazes, the other was launching golden bolts into the horde.

  Hope in her soul, sharp and sudden, cut through her fear. She looked down at those holding the gate. “Spearmen of Blackfern, you must hold! Help has come; don’t lose hope! The capital has sent reinforcements.” She continued to watch the two as the kobolds peeled off from the horde that was attacking her home. She almost had a heart attack when the wagon went over the hill.

  For a breathless few moments, she feared they had been abandoned, until the wagon crested back into view, with the same two figures blasting away. She focused and noticed a third man guiding the horses, someone she knew very well indeed. Will had brought them help.

  Sara snatched up her spear and hurried toward the gate to help those already holding the line. We must hang on just a little longer.

  She was almost there when the reinforced wood groaned, splintering under the relentless pounding. She fell in beside the others, thrusting their spears through the narrow murder holes. They were all bone?tired, arms trembling, but the sight of reinforcements had lit a spark in them. “Hold fast, everyone!” she shouted, voice raw but steady. "Hold fast!"

  RIVEN

  The canvas came off the wagon with a rough yank, dust and grit scattering into the wind. Will was already at the harness, his hands moving quick and sure as he hitched two more horses to the team. Eight now, big brutes with muscles bunching under leather straps, snorting like they knew they were about to be driven straight into the shit.

  I climbed in the back with Balt. The Sgt. glanced back at me. “Riven… are you sure about this?” I met his eyes with my own. “As sure as I can be.”

  Will gave a sharp nod. “There are mostly women and children left in the village, including my wife. I’m willing to try anything, no matter how crazy.”

  “Then let’s set the hook.” My armor flared to life; mana flow kept tight at the armor’s lowest draw. I just wanted the extra light the armor gave off to draw the monsters’ eyes. My grin was humorless; all grit and steel. “Time to cast the line and reel in some fish.”

  Balt rolled his shoulders beside me. “Please stop with the fishing metaphors. This isn’t any kind of fishing I’ve ever heard of.”

  I only grinned wider, thrusting my arm forward. “Cast!" The wagon lurched forward, wheels biting into the dirt with a bone?rattling jolt that slammed me against the sideboard.

  Dust whipped up in our wake; Will was not screwing around; we were moving. The horses thundered down the slope, their sweat?sharp musk carried on the wind to my nose. Balt was braced beside me, staff gripped tight, the wood humming with spell?light.

  Together, we hurled Force Jolts and Mana Balls into the kobolds clustered at the edges of the horde, the acrid tang of scorched scales already drifting back toward us.

  It worked. Heads snapped toward us, snarls rising. The first pack peeled away from the tide, chasing after the live bait that was us.

  I gathered mana into my palm and hurled it forward. The sphere cracked into a kobold’s face with a wet crunch, dropping it mid?stride. I received a notification and silenced it. Out of the hundreds down there, maybe twenty had broken off, and they were coming hard, following us over the hill as me and Balt blasted them. Will knew how to handle a team of horses, and we crested the hill.

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  The wagons we had unloaded and left below had already formed a defensive circle, leaving a narrow gap open for us to ride through. Will cracked the reins, and our team of horses barreled straight for it. We shot through the gap; the kobolds shrieking mindlessly as they poured in after us.

  Balt and I vaulted from the wagon, landing beside the soldiers braced with spears and shields. Together we met the charge, steel and spell cutting into the pack. The kobolds slammed into the line, but this time they weren’t the hunters.

  Behind them, our wagon wheeled wide and swung back around, sealing the gap. Too late, the kobolds realized they were the prey, trapped inside the circle with us.

  Steel rang, and spells flared. Balt’s staff cracked against a skull as my blade punched through another’s chest. The soldiers closed ranks, spears thrusting in perfect rhythm. The kobolds screeched, but inside the circle they had nowhere to run. One by one they fell until the last collapsed in a heap at our feet.

  The circle opened again. Will snapped the reins, and our wagon surged out, bait on the line once more. We threw wide bolts into the horde, peeling another pack away. Fifteen this time. They chased us over the hill, straight into the waiting spears. Again, the trap snapped shut. Again, the kobolds died screaming.

  We ran the maneuver again and again. The kobold corpses piled up faster than the soldiers could drag them clear, clogging the circle with blood and bodies before we could bring the next batch through. Several times, Balt and I blasted the corpses aside to make way. Each cast forced us farther out, each reel pulling the horde deeper into our trap.

  And every time, the circle held, soldiers braced, spears steady, the line unbroken. Spears shook in tired hands, but not one-man broke rank. They fought for their home, and none of them quit on one another.

  As we thinned the kobold numbers, the hordes attacking the gate never stopped pressing. And as we wheeled the wagon around for another run, a deep, booming crack split the air. I looked up in time to see the great gate shudder under the weight of the assault, iron bending like wood. All that remained was the massive inner wooden gate.

  None of it was going to hold much longer. “Will, go back and rally the men to the gate!” I barked.

  His head snapped toward me, eyes wide. “What about you?”

  “Balt and I are going to the gate right now. We’ll hold the line until you can bring help.”

  Will’s face twisted, looking at all the kobolds. “That’s suicide.”

  “Maybe,” I said, tightening my grip on the hilt. “But if we don’t try, those monsters will pour through and wipe out the village.”

  “Bring the men up with their spears; we’ll catch these bastards in a pincer and end this.”

  Balt and I jumped from the wagon as Will snapped the reins and tore off toward the wagon circle. I landed hard, armor humming low, and Balt came up beside me, staff ready.

  I glanced at him, a humorless grin tugging at my mouth. “Let’s show them bastards what we’re made of.”

  He gave a sharp nod and set out.

  As we sprinted toward the shuddering gate, I couldn’t help but admire our handiwork, we’d already bled the horde quite a bit. In the last half hour, we’d peeled away nearly half their number. With just a little more time, we might have whittled them down to nothing. But the bastards never stopped hammering at the gate.

  There was something off about this whole attack. They weren’t just raging beasts but felt driven by some unknown force. As if someone had ordered them to breach the village gate at all costs.

  I shifted my weight forward, power already coiling in my legs. The ground blurred beneath me as I Flash Stepped; the world snapped past in jagged frames. I maximized the distance of flash step, pushing the talent to its limit. My increased stats roared to life as I ran, my new boots chewing up the dirt, each stride shooting me forward. The air cracked around me, the sudden acceleration leaving a wake of dust and debris in my wake.

  Balt, ten levels higher than me, still struggled to keep pace. I was avoiding every monster that came at me for the time being. I could see cracks in the gate's wood now as I got closer. It could break apart at any moment. The villagers’ spears jutted from the murder holes in the gate, trying to keep the monster’s back. Every now and then I could see a spell rain down on the horde with little effect.

  No telling how long they had been fighting.

  Balt’s voice carried after me, steady even in the chaos. “I’ll soften them up, Riven!” I didn’t need to look back. His staff was already sparking, the ozone tang of charged mana chasing me as I tore toward the gate. A blast of force parted the kobolds, killing several and opening a narrow path for me.

  My armor hummed low, and I activated Limit Break. The kobolds ahead barely had time to register me before I was on them, blade flashing, momentum turning every strike into a killing blow.

  The hum of my armor deepened as I shoved the mana into it wide open. Light bled from every seam, a blinding aura that wrapped me in a halo of raw power. The pressure of it pressed against my skin, heavy and electric, like standing inside a storm about to break.

  I pulled it tighter, forcing the aura to cling close, sharpening it into a killing edge. The world slowed. Every kobold in front of me seemed to move through syrup, their snarls stretched thin as I drew my blade back. “Limit Slash!”

  The strike ripped forward, my aura exploding outward in a crescent of fire. Kobolds were carved apart in swathes, bodies tumbling like wheat before the scythe off the bridge into the water. The bridge I was on shook under my force, dirt and blood spraying high as I carved a bloody path straight toward the gate.

  Behind me, Balt’s voice rose in a battle?chant. His staff cracked like thunder, bolts of force hammering into anything I missed. We were surrounded quickly, but Balt guarded us while I cleared a path forward. The ozone tang of his magic mixed with the copper tang of kobold blood.

  I didn’t slow down. With every step I controlled my aura; every swing of my blade, another arc of destruction. Kobolds lunged, but my armor protected me, and Ember flared hotter, burning them away before their claws could touch me.

  By the time I reached the gate, the path behind me was a trail of corpses and shattered ground. Balt was there next to me.

  He threw up a barrier. “What now?!”

  I breathed in and centered myself. “We hold, because if we break, the village dies.”