Fenna accepted the drinks from Zell, examining the shot before bringing it to her lips. Manticore spit, how typical of Zell to bring back something weird like this. The liquid was much darker than anything she had seen before and the smell was, well, it was no Jägermeister. The cautious part of her was not yet convinced she wanted to try this. Zell, on the other hand, wasted no time and downed the shot. She could see the regret almost instantly and it would have been funny if she didn't have the same drink in front of her. Clive too downed the shot and seeing how the big man reacted didn't leave her with much confidence. The sane part of her wanted to refuse, put the drink aside and forget about it. All the evidence pointed to it being a very bad idea. But... what was life if you couldn't take a chance sometimes? "Here goes nothing," she muttered and brought the glass up, tilted her head and downed the liquid. It burned down her throat, shot needles into her head and left a vile taste on her tongue. "Gah," she sputtered and she coughed. "Sodeju," she croaked. "That'sstrong." She coughed again and croaked. "Never...again..."
Next time, Fenna decided, next time Zell would come back with something that sounded dubious and smelled dubious, she would not drink it. But she was glad she did, because this was something they would remember forever.

It was a few hours after midnight.

Captain Hrond Lewell, Chieftan of the Luna Clan and Head of the Elite Strikeforce stood deep under the tree line, one clawed hand on the gnarled bark of an ashwood. His nightvision pierced the darkness easily as he watched the city of Valhiem. He could smell the fear and his blood boiled in anticipation of the coming slaughter.

His team were a seperate detachment from the main force, boasting sheer quality over quantity. Every one of his number were easily as strong as any adventurer in that city, which was exactly what he needed for the task. Their job was get inside the city on their own, causing confusion and mayhem. They would spread through the streets, using howls to coordinate their pack movements as they sniffed out Source Crystal Bearers and used their tactics to single out and assassinate the adventurers in Valhiem's defense.

And if they could find and kill any of those who smelled like they came from another world, then there would be grand rewards in their future.

Hrond eventually left his position and went further back into the woods where his unit were. All were sharpening their swords, axes and gauntlets. All except one of them: Zacharius, Drinker of Divine Blood.



Hrond looked upon the Elite Demi-Jinn Hybrid with distaste but also a measure of caution. The wolfman did not like that he had to bring along a warrior who wasn't born of the Luna Clan. The Source Crystal User wasn't even a Wolfman. He just sat there, silent and still, but Hrond could sense his anticipation all the same.

In spite of lacking a Source Crystal, Hrond was an exceptional specimen who was more than a match for any adventurer of any class. In addition to his amazing physical attributes, his racial abilities included being able to use a sort of Identify Magic through simply his sense of smell. In sizing up Zacharius, Hrond believed he could take him. Zacharius would surely have the edge in terms of sheer power and Source, but Hrond was confident in his own speed and cunning. He would like to put it to the test one day, but now was not the time.

Now was the eve of battle. The signal would come soon.

They'd been warned. By James Sirius who had the displeasure of knowing Saladin well. By Adam Philips who had let them know that Saladin might well know his plans were leaked. They'd been warned to stay vigilant and closely watch for any tricks that the attackers may try to pull. But Saladin was too clever.

The assault came two days earlier than originally planned. At 4AM during a lull in catapult fire. This much was to be expected. What was not expected was just how close to the River Eisen that the assault would be. Saladin had pitched his camp on the northeastern side of city and ravaged Greenglow Woods for resources, but the siege towers he was constructing for the assault were being built seemingly to attack along the longer more easterly parts of the city walls. One by one the siege towers sprung up over the days, until there were 10 and counting. But the towers were constructed cleverly to be able to be disassembled with ease so that Saladin could reassemble them anywhere he pleased. And that is exactly what he did.

The Dark Domain ritual magic had maintained a shadowy illusion of the towers once night time came. The towers disassembled. Another shadow shield was thrown up to cover the ruse. And now suddenly there were 10 seige towers and a wheeled battering ram approaching in staggered lines, with the River Eisen at their western flank, heading right for the wall and North Gate.

.

The sound of Valhiem's siren filled the air.

.

Commander Thorn's fortified position on Citadel Mountain's north eastern cliffside began to populate with Valhiem's High Command.

.

The city began to stir in the darkness.

.

Kleon, a powerful Spirit Mage in High Command, fired a giant magical flare into the air like a firework, exploding into a giant ball of light that instantly illuminated the city with brilliant white light.

.

And what could be seen in the sky, soaring towards the city was horrifying.

.







Ghouls began falling from the sky onto the northeastern quadrant of the city. The roofs of buildings, the streets, the Mage Support Platforms all began being hit with the thud and the splunking sound of corpse-flesh crashing upon it.

The assault had finally begun. The Southeast quadrant of the city that was due to start being evacuated after sunrise... the citizens there were now in a vulnerable position. Ghouls roamed the very streets where the Valhiem Garrison Blocks of 100 were designated to form up, organize and make for the walls. Chaos had erupted in the city. And outside, the siege towers and battering ram advanced.

The fight against extinction was now or never.

The platform was wider than he thought it would be, it also felt more narrow than he thought it would feel. It was the nerves he could recognize, for more than a week they had been preparing for this but for some reason, his dumb ass was caught blindsided the moment the alarms sounded to actually participate in the siege. It was funny, this wasn't his first siege but it was the first time he was on the defender's side, he couldn't say he was fond of it, unlike the nervous excitement that filled your body when you were an attacker for these last hours there were only anxiety and long periods of time sitting in silence, vigilant but with attention wavering every so often.

Already he had seen some people start to chafe, starting arguments or having quiet breakdowns in a corner.

If Zell was here he would have likely cracked a joke and improved the morale, if Mac or Fenna they would know what to say, if Kass or Clive were here their mere presence would reassure others, if Alisson was here she would probably share some obscure trick to calm the nerves.

But it was him here and he was speechless.

That is until the dead started raining from above.

He watched as the beast flew through the sky, a "Corpse Dropper" half his mind cursed, to have one of those things here... was Saladin really pulling some cards from his sleeve this early? No, it wasn't the time to think about that.

Instead, he grabbed his anchor and swung it at the closest ghoul, he had been too slow to create a barrier around his platform but he could correct the issue "To arms! Melee fighters kill the ghouls before they cause more damage! Light Domain bring down the Corpse Dropper! Earth and water target the troops! Everyone else go for the towers!"

The momentum was firmly in Saladin's grasp and they wouldn't be able to switch for now.

As much as he hated it the best option for now was to wait, this was just the opening move

What is that noise, his mind wandered for a moment. His body was too late to react, and then he realised it was the alarm. “No… Not now,” he told himself, but he knew deep down inside that there would have never been a good time for the battle to start. There would have always been more they could have done to prepare for the siege.

He donned his equipment and armed himself with his tower shield and claymore. He rushed out towards the tavern door and ran towards the chaos near the NorthEast section.

A whole swarm of ghouls, running and toppling over roofs and knocking over garbage bins and chairs, stands crashing to the floor. Hissing filled the surrounding space. They were everywhere. As he closed in on the enemy, a ghoul jumped onto his back from a crossing alleyway, marking the first combat of the day. The magelight brightened up the streets, making it visually as if daylight struck from the sun.

Barracker felt for a grip of an arm of the ghoul and swung the ghoul full pelt towards another ghoul attacking a party member of Silver Arrow from his rear. It was the tiefling, Gordon Watson, Silver Arrow’s archer. As they slayed the ghouls that they both were occupied with, they exchanged a nod and then set off in opposite directions both covering different areas of fighting in the streets.

Barracker’s goal was to get to his men and start the shield wall.

As Barracker got to the NorthGate, he was met by his second in command of ‘The Bats,’ Warren Burns. “Fuck, finally, lets get this started.” A loud confidence from Warren bolstered The Bats.

“Indeed, we shall ready ourselves,” he replied and everyone ran up the stairs to take position on the wall. Once they were in a tight formation, Barracker began shouting loud for everyone to hear. “Stick to the fundamentals and play your part.” The Bats switched into shield wall stance. Barracker stood, filling in the very end, right position of the shield wall, a position he could give tactical instructions from and as well get stuck into the action, making sure of the strength and health of the wall also. He gave Warren the same position on the second row and then bashed the hilt of his claymore against his shield. “I have faith in you all! Your training has come a long way, now for the real test. Keep in mind your loved ones! Keep in mind your neighbours! Keep in mind your priest, your councilmen and shopkeepers! This makes us strong, we are not forgotten in all this. We are the wall between them and this horde!”

Tag team match. In the red corner... tiredness and a hangover. In the blue corner... adrenaline and fear.

It was a one sided slaughter that may have been the quickest match of all time.

The moment the city sirens reached Zell's ears, his eyes shot open. His skin tingled from the sheer speed that his body's internal systems had gone from a state of sleep to hyper-awareness and a racing heart. He got up and sat on the edge of his bed, taking a second to try and calm his heartrate - control his breathing. It didn't do much good, so he jumped up and hastily suited up for action.

Zell was out of his room around the same time of some of his friends. He clapped the first one he came into contact with on the shoulder and nodded, seamlessly turning to rush down the stairs. Barracker was in front. He clasped the vampire on the shoulder as they made for the exit of The Mended Drum and started running through the streets.

"This is us, guys!" he shouted as they ran. "We've got this! They don't know who they're fuckin with!" Booted feet pattered the cobblestones, the group staying together until the point where their individual assignments would force them to split. "Stay swift, bro," were his words for Barracker as they parted at an intersection. "Be careful. Later," or some form there of for the others, no time for a deeper and more caring message. He could only hope that they were used to his ways enough that they'd know just how much they all meant to him.

He was on his own by the time he met any resistance. Zombies. Even on his approach, more were dropping out of the sky, somehow still alive and struggling up to their feet to join in chaos. So that's what were falling out of that thing, he realised now. He didn't miss a step and sprinted straight into the action, drawing his sword off his back. He left the flimsy lightweight buckler hooked on his hip. The shield was purely to block magic, completely useless against physical attacks and therefore pointless at the moment, but it was light enough to be of minimal annoyance on his belt, ready to punch his left arm down into the hand hold the moment he needed it.

He fought his way down the street among allies, the bright white light coming from the flare above helping him keep his bearings as he progressed towards The Lions' meeting point. In spite of the intensity in his heart and mind, the technical difficulty of the foes before them was pitiful. They were slow. And if not slow, then straight lined and single-minded. Easy work. And yet it was wildly difficult on the stamina and the senses. It didn't matter how much knowledge of melee combat and field battle that the Source Crystal forced into his lexicon, it was all just theory and could never compare to the real deal. He had to control himself. He was expending too much energy on nerves alone. But the urgency to find his fellow Lions and rally them around him was too great.

Once he was only a single street away from the meeting point, he began to see familiar faces. "Lions!"

Bit by bit, he picked them up - "Lioooons!" - his group slowly growing as they made it to a crossroads. Here there were a large number of enemy, but ruthlessly, Zell ordered his men to leave the other soldiers to deal with the mob. It had to be done. Sure, the defenders on this intersection were outnumbered, but these dumbass zombies were just a distraction. Just here to cause chaos.

The real threat was the danger that Valhiem's walls were not adequately defended. If Saladin managed to take the walls without losing the absolute maximum number of his troops then Valhiem would most certainly fall. Every layer of fortification had to be utilised to the fullest. And anyway; if Commander Thorn wanted the Centre of the Defensive Line to stay in the streets, then it would have to come down the chain of command. "Move now!"

The looks in the eyes of some of his soldiers was hurt as Zell forced them to follow him down the much safer street, away from the fighting, but the hardened eyes of a couple of his vets gave him heart. "Liooons! To meee!"

They arrived at the meeting point and formed up. Ten ranks of ten was easy enough to count and the Lions held their position to wait for the stragglers. Zell knew he couldn't wait all day, but luckily none of his soldiers forced his hand. Everyone showed up and the made for the wall.

...

Five ranks of twenty. Higher troop quality in the front ranks and the flanks. No archers in his particular block. He'd been given the assignment of a pure melee centurion, flanked on either side by The Pits and The Scarabs who would be firing at will once present and ready. The Lions stood looking over the battlements, among the first of the blocks on the walls. The view was awe-striking, the sheer scale of the enemy host was so grand that each would have to swivel his head almost 180 degrees to see it all. Amongst the slowly advanced siege towers were just fucking MASSES of baddies. A million glinting metal blades of various shapes and sizes. Armour. So much armour. Monsters. Those fucking dino-cavalry. All sorts.

Zell was lost for words. For a time, he'd forgotten his place. He wasn't captain of The Lions. He was plain old Zell Brooks, stood in awe with tunnel vision as fire, ice, earth and air and plenty of arrows were traded between the mages of both sides. "Christ," he muttered shakily under his breath. He didn't even realise he was shaking his head slightly, his thoughts betrayed by his subconcious body language. His men and women stood faced front, so hopefully none noticed that their captain had frozen. Still... they were waiting for some words of encouragement from their boastful, boistrous beacon of courage, who usually carried himself like he was a legend of the Mythic Age.

And then...

Zell's eyes flared as a big firebolt came like a comet toward their position.

"WATCH-" there was not even time enough time for Biff in the front rank to get out the warning.



Zell appeared on the battlements with his buckler up, a millisecond before the firebolt struck, angling his shield in such a way to take as much off the punch as possible. There was an explosive crackle as the bolt was deflected in a high arc way over everyone. Zell was blown off the battlements into his men who didn't have any time or choice in catching him. The collective strength of a dozen or so Lions managed to cushion Zell's momentum and thankfully no one was knocked flying off the wall or anything. The firebolt went soaring into the background and landed on a distant empty section of wall south of them. Another stroke of fortune.

Zell's entire left arm was numb and shivering. He was breathing heavy and he was still yet to fully come to the realisation that his efforts had paid off.

"Captain," Chip said in a tone that spoke of great awe and gratitude. There was a similar sentiment from others as Zell was helped to his feet.

Thank fuck for that, Zell thought. He could not, under any circumstances, take casualties before The Lions had gotten some kills of their own to bolster their morale. It was terrifying enough just having to stand there and wait for those siege towers, with plenty of time to think about just how daunting the task in front of them was.

He felt like his arm was about to fall off, but thought of a great way to hide his pain. Aswell as capitalise on this close call.



...And the siege towers rolled closer.

The alarm sounded. Fenna jolted up. At first she was confused about what was happening, it was too soon, it couldn't be the attack. But what enemy would stick to their schedule if they could use the element of surprise? She cursed under breath as she quickly put on her armour, grabbed her bow and spear and rushed out of the room. Zell was there — of course he was — and clasped her shoulder. He nodded to her and she nodded back. Of course he shouted words of encouragement, Fenna wasn't sure if he really believed it, but it was good to know that at least one of them was confident. Or, in the very least, acted confident. It helped. Sil joined her and flew alongside her.

As she ran to the appointed place, horrors rained down on the town. Ghouls. Fenna looked up to see a creature fly overhead and for a moment thought about shooting an arrow, but she didn't even know where the weak spot would be. Instead, she bashed in the skull of one ghoul and stabbed another as she moved through them. every ghoul that came on her path met one of the ends of her spear. City militia approached to deal with the ghouls and Fenna saw fire balls and lightning bolts being fired at flying creature.

Along the way their group split up, but Falcons joined her. When she reached her appointed location a part of the Falcons were already in position. Others arrived and quickly took place. When Sil soared over their heads, they cheered. As Fenna gave them a moment to assemble, Fenna climbed up the battlements to see what the situation was, and cursed. So many enemies, siege towers approaching, and they needed to somehow win this? They had to, it was fight or die, and Fenna was not about to die in some far-away land.

'All right,' she said, turning around. 'We'll have to give it everything we got.' Her eyes moved over her troops. Some people were missing. Were they late? Killed by ghouls? Had they deserted and fled the city? She turned to her second in command. 'Make sure to write down who didn't join us,' she told him, and after receiving a confirmation she turned to the troops again. 'As we planned. Arrows first, when they get too close the archers fall back and we'll use spears, when they get within reach we use swords. We will fight them with every step they take. Get ready!'