Ink drips onto the coarse paper, and the metal blade of the pen weaves it into words, symbols, and images. The book's pages turn, and in her mind's eye, she reads from it, unable to tear her eyes away...

Alison's eyes opened again, her breathing somewhat calmer, the pain in her stomach lessening. Glancing down at her right hand, the Source crystal glowed, a dark purple radiating softly from the mystical stone. Something had changed, and she felt different than just moments before. Her body was lighter, her arms, stronger, and most importantly of all, the vision again returned to that book.

As if the very instructions of that new incantation were inscribed onto her very being, Alison could feel the voice stronger now than ever before.

It was time to end this.

---

Captian Hrond stalked through the warehouse, cursing. The air was thick with Source, practically smothering everything around him. It sickened him and the relish of finally getting this kill was made all the stronger. The thick Source, however, failed to hide his prey as it had in the alley. His Luna state allowed him to cut through the mirage of scents and zero in on her. He could hear her heavy breath, and smell the life blood draining from the wound his claws had created. Yes, there was no escape now.

He rounded on the pile of wood and saw his prey. The desperate woman had activated her cloak, and to an untrained pup, she'd probably slip by, but not to Hrond. The cloak shimmered slightly, hunched in the corner. Blood pooled just below it, and its camouflage continued to flicker as heavy breathing came from underneath. He grinned and stalked forward, claws bared.

"It was a good chase, prey. It has been many moons since my blood has been raised so high. But your life ends here now. No more tricks, no more traps. You've lost to the overwhelming might of the Luna Clan, of Captain Hrond." Hrond boasted as he came up behind the hunched figure. He grabbed the shoulder and yanked back, ready to take the woman's head, when shock, then anger filled his mind.

Before him was a tattered cloak, blood, and the sound of heavy breathing, but nobody! His ears flicked and whirled as he heard the rushing of footsteps, but again, nothing!

"Gah-!"

---

"Well, it seems I've been volunteered. I just came with a friend to check out the place, and now I'm here." Alison said with a shrug. She let her hands then rest on her hips as she continued. "Miss Shields tells me you with our Guild and have been cooking up some new gadgets that might be useful to us. So what kind of developments are we talking about here?"

Titus looked up again from his work, the thin man nodding. "I have been granted access to several resources otherwise outside the guild's... means... but even still, we have little time to capitalize on it." he gestured firstly to a large box sitting on a wooden table, surrounded by what seemed to be pipes capped with cloth and fuses sticking out the back. "We've always struggled with the more armored types in our line of work, I have developed solutions with what little we have and even less time. This is a launcher of sorts. Bolts encased in firepepper pulp mixed in lamp oil with striking-steel shavings. We can make a few of these, use them carefully, and set entire cavalry regiments to flames..." he finished.

"And that? The piece you're currently working on?" Alison said, gesturing to his work table. Titus gave a small smile and nodded to her.

"Well, Miss Walker, the Guildmaster authorized this for you. Keeping in our problem, I have developed a... novel solution," he said, stepping back to let her take a closer look...

---

Alison watched as the Captain was distracted by her new ability. She lept down from atop the woodpile and landed behind him. At that moment, she saw it. Something instinctual clicked and it was as if the Source itself guided her swing as she slammed her left fist into the center of the captain's back. As she did so, the cloth unraveled around her arm, revealing a strange machine. With a loud and heavy "whump", a charge was detonated and a steel stake shot forward. It pieced through the wolfman's plate, then his flesh, before causing a dent in the front plate from the sheer impact.

The wolfman let out a gurgled cry as, with a click and then a hiss, Alison retracted the steel stake. The wolfman fell to his knees, staring down at the large dent in his armor. His eyes widened as he saw the blood dripping from his mouth. Alison stepped back, pulled another charge from her belt, and loaded it into the gauntlet. The cartridge locked into place as she stepped around the kneeling wolfman to face him. The wolfman began to chuckle before coughing.

"You think this is over? We are already in the city, as I die, the Luna Clan is still hun-" Another bang sounded as a stake shot through the wolfman's temple and out the other end.

Alison stumbled back a few steps and slid down the side of the warehouse wall, staring at the wolfman's corpse for a moment then looking down at the piledriver on her arm, dripping with blood and brainmatter. Shaking her head, she rose and began slowly making her way back towards the larger fight at the walls.

It wasn't over.

---

"NOW OLAF! GET BACK!" Pete roared as he lept behind the cart. An explosion, followed by several more, ripped through the previously quiet camp. Night became day as the incendiary explosives detonated on the food stores, weapon depots, and even tent rows of the invading army. Debris flew everywhere and Pete yelped as a burning turnip landed on his shoulder. Olaf quickly batted out the flame as Pete cursed profusely.

"Ya'd think this undead army wouldn't need so much damn food." Olaf grumbled.

"Yous think so... ows the slaves. We got em on the run?" Pete said, brushing the last of the burnt vegetable off him. Olaf nodded. "We got most of em out. Guards got wise. Took casualties, but you'd be amazed watching what recently freed, armed, and cornered slaves can do to an undead soldier. Seen wild dogs with less tenacity. Anyway, once they overwhelmed the rest of the garrison, they scattered. Only a few stayed to help and fight." Olaf said shaking his head. Pete shivered, but his face smiled into a cruel grin.

"They likes us. Backed into a corner, nufin we can do but tear em limb from limb. Shame they didn't wanna taste some more, but glad we ave a few." he said. Before he could say anymore, a scout came running up, breathless.

"Sirs! They noticed finally. We got half the damn general's guard and Death Riders coming for us! Just heard their horns blow." he finished. Pete nodded and turned to the rest of the gathering raiders.

"Right then! Steady lads, wez got ourselves some big game tonight! Barkley, take your squad and get up in the trees on the south side. Lasil, the mines been set? Good. Get your men into whatever tents weren't burned and wait. Olaf, take the sharpshooters to the East side and wait for em death riders tu land. Givem a good ole welcome. As for the rest of yous lot. H'ope you wazn't plannin on survin, cause when them mines go, we go in on the guards. Whoever gets that posh gen's ed gets a free drinks fo life in the afterlife on me! Lets go!" Pete finished, pointing his long, bloody dagger into the sky. The raiders cheered before dashing off to their positions.

Mines were set, Titus's Wonderous Box of Flames (trademark pending) was set up, and the ambush was laid. Now all that was left was the trap to be sprung.

The recovery was as miraculous as always, magic was truly a wonder, an injury that could take years if not a lifetime to recover (maybe unsalvageable) was gone in a few minutes, it helped that the Lesser Restore was concentrated in a single limb, yes it wasn't going to restore any of the other wound he could see in her body but at least she was back in fighting order again even if he would rather have her resting and safe.

"If you are going to fight again then be careful, your arm is going to be fine but the healing was focused on your arm so don't expect a sudden recovery" He didn't have another Restore so the next injury would have to be addressed with increased healing. A whorty trade to get Mac back into shape "As for the retreat is going well, I am afraid we may be playing straight into Saladin's hands but there is not much else we can do at the moment" It irked him to say it aloud but if there was someone he could trust with the reality of the situation was the person in front of him.

"You should be going too, no?"

He gave her a shake of the head.

"Maybe but there is still work to be done"

He wasn't being dramatic either, the enemies were overwhelming, and retreating all support while leaving the defenders would lead some squads to be overrun. Any dent in their defense could and was already being exploited, to show their injured side without a trap prepared would end in a bloodbath.

"I can wait no longer. Adieu, mon amie."

"Good Luck!"

It felt like too little but for the moment that was the best he could do.

Once Mac was out of his field of vision his attention focused back on the walls, the fighting was gruesome and every second his worry for his party members grew, he was still conscious enough to make decisions with a detached head but he feared the longer the battle went the more his affection would cloud his judgment, already he had disregarded everything to heal Mac, leaving other mages to be picked off by enemy forces.

The situation was dire.

Despite whatever was happening at the enemy camp they were still getting slowly overrun, every one of their fighters was worth five of theirs but for each one Valheim had the enemy had ten. The walls were slowly becoming traps, kllboxes were being turned around and used against the defenders.

There was only one true option, for now, it would be costly but it would allow their forces to regroup and it could be what they needed to turn the tide of battle.

"Marcus, send the flare, I am ordering a full retreat to the Bazar"

His fellow mage complied, using one of the spells carved into his soul to send a Red Flare high in the sky where it exploded into a red explosion with a distinctive sound. A distraction for the enemy and a signal to their allies at the same time. It was time to abandon the walls.

But he still had a card he could play.

"I beseech thee, Mother Iris, thou who are radiant and wise, ruler of the skies and bearer of the sun, Guide us with thy luminous light's gentle sway so that in thy name victory may be attained!"

Again the faith surrounding him gathered but where Undaya's pressure created waves Iris's light was dazzling and warm, light a ray of sunlight peeking through a tree's shadow.

Even without being able to see it, he knew that the weapon of every member of his party was alight with Holy Fire.

The Dark Riders: Hailing from the Dark Elven lands across the sea, these cavalry forces are multi-purpose units that are lightly armoured and, even in large groups, can outrun the fastest horsemen. They can be deployed as scouts, can move ahead of the main army and look to blitz war machines, make precise flanking attacks or act within the main forces as shock troops, usually bolstering the smaller-numbered Lizard Cavalry.



The two wedges moved across the plains like the wind. In spite of being the furthest away, the Dark Riders arrived at Saladin’s camp first. One wedge skirted around the camp perimeter while the other rode straight in, an attempt to make visual contact, fight or retreat if necessary.

Of the 150 strong wedges that rode straight in, their captain rode with horn held in hand, ready to blow once eyes were put on the enemy. They rushed through the burning tents but there was no sign of anyone. Until they heard the thieves shout…



Saladin watched closely as he and the Fell Knights rode to catch up to the Dark Riders. Men of Rudiger, tough heavy infantry who were closely related to Sibliconian blood and just as nomadic, lagged behind.

The General was not picked as one of the Witch Queen’s 5 Antiquinites for nothing. He was of rare intelligence and shrewd with age. His mind ran through possible scenarios and he felt strongly that this could not be a full-sized army, but he did have a few guesses as to the reality of the situation. But he didn't have time to make an action because a 2nd explosion went off in the camp ahead, this one more powerful than the last.



He pulled his mount to halt and looked with shock and anger at the size of the explosion and cloud. He did not need to see to know that he had just lost an entire wedge of Dark Riders.

“It’s a trap,” he rasped. With quickness and decisiveness, he took out the crystal sphere he'd enchanted with his magical relay and gave out orders to what Dark Riders he had left. He sent a runner to the Beastmasters. And another to the Orc Shaman. Then he dismounted, retrieved his staff and spellbook from the saddle of his horse, then turned to the camp…



Olaf and Pete had successfully executed their boss’ plan. Not only had they delayed the assault, but they had also taken out almost a third of Saladin’s cavalry forces. But now they were in trouble. Their choice to wait stick around after drawing attention was valiant, but it would be their undoing.

They would quickly find themselves surrounded, enclosed by a circle of well-spaced, fast-moving horsemen who sped around the perimeter of the camp in a Cantabrian Circle of constant movement. In less than two minutes, the wedge would have spread out enough to form the circle, leaving nowhere to run without making contact in fairly open terrain.

Upon receiving their orders, the Beastmaster would whisper words to the Crebain, creatures of close relation to crows, who were then released from their cages and flew up into a flock and headed toward the destroyed camp to search out the enemy saboteurs.

20 Orc Shaman would mount hogs and ride to the camp.

Saladin had several high level spells prepped in his book and his staff was charged with Source. Within a short space of time, he was able to solo-cast a summon that would have ordinarily taken a small troop of expert wizards to bring about. Grey storm clouds formed out of nowhere in the sky above, then bolts of jagged lightning began striking down on the camp, creating small explosions with each hit and chaining off to anything close with conductivity. It was not over until 25 bolts had stuck.

Saladin closed his book and turned about to mount his horse again. “Kruger. Stay and wait for the Men of Rudiger. Wait for the direction of the enemy and move to cut them off.” He got a reply from Kruger, a lieutenant in the Fell Knights, and then added with express importance…

“I want at least one of them alive.”





The gap of pressure on the walls was a small one and James Sirius was sharp to take advantage of it, because it disappeared quickly. And even still, it would be a close call because the walls on the former Right Wing were completely flooded with enemies who had been coming down the stairs in numbers and piling up in the streets.

Orcs, goblins, men, elves and dwarves, thirsty for destruction, started setting fire to buildings and pouring through the streets. The temporary checkpoints defending the 2nd half of the Tactical Retreat started to get hit with attacks. At first it was manageable.

But then the Bone Legions awoke. Thousands of them. Armored to varying degrees. They moved to the North Gate, the ladders and the siege towers.



Without the immediate reinforcement of the Bone Legion and the Dark Riders, the 50 strong Lizard Cavalry unit was in some trouble. The initial charge was devastating, and the tanky nature of the mounts and their ability to bite back, plus the heavy armoured riders atop them, made them an amazing unit. But numbers were numbers, and their's were few.

Now, isolated and immobile, not to mention fighting a unit led by the strongest Paladin in the city, there weren’t many left. They had taken out twice their number but were so few by the time that the Bone Legion were coming in, that The Bats and The Dire Stags would have a chance to retreat with minimal casualties if they were quick.

As for all other blocks, they would likely be best finding their way through the mazy small streets of the North-East Quarter, as the main roads were becoming increasingly hostile. Between enemy forces and the defensive blockades, many of the quickest routes to the center of the city were blocked off.

Vice Commander Jeremiah was grateful that the order for full retreat had been given finally. He did not realise it was the result of a streak of insubordinate initiative from one of the Heros from Another World. He had taken 200 men from the Bazaar and gone to fortify one of the main checkpoints that would best protect the 2nd Half of the Tactical Retreat. And now he had his hands full.

The fighting was tense but just about manageable. 200 men was just enough to beat back the outnumbering invaders on Desalines Lane, a key carriage-way that would protect Beam Street North. When flames began to rise all over the Quadrant and he got reports that the checkpoints closest to the walls had fallen, he knew things were about to get rough.

But he did not realise just how rough, until a group of pyromancers appeared on the rooftops right above their chokepoint. His eyes widened as he saw the fireballs grow in their hands. And then they pointed down on their position.......



The Bone Legion was like a sea. An unstoppable tsunami that would swallow up anything it swept over. With the poise of the city's best defences broken, nothing could stop them in the North East Quarter. Even the best checkpoints could stand for no longer than a couple of minutes, because there were enough of the invaders that they could just take a side street, go around and flank the checkpoint from several sides.

The last defence before Citadel Mountain was the Bazaar and all defenders now were making a speedy beeline for that defensive island.

Big Bridge: In the north, connecting the North-West and North-East Quarters had been destroyed before the battle had begun. This was an attempt to funnel the enemy to The Bazaar. Of course, not all of Saladin’s forces would be opposed to swimming across the river and shortcutting to Citadel Mountain. There were enough reserve forces on the Mountain to deal with some. But the Bone Legion had come in numbers larger than anyone could possibly imagine. And if one were to look at some of the armour and decor of the skeletons, they would realize why.

Many skeleton warriors were garbed in the sigils of Eredge, Dantuin, the merchant city of Jhosiria and Juda… Osca and Perth. Many of these that had come to exterminate Valhiem were once friends, possibly family. Citizens and soldiers of fellow cities in The Empire of the Free Peoples. Killed and bid to rise again as slaves for the war machine of The Witch Queen.

And several thousand crossed the river, their armour heavy enough that they could simply walk along the riverbed and climb out of the other side. The rest of the Bone Legion would reinforce the numberless horde of Saladin’s other forces, as they descended on the Bazaar.



Anyone who had not made it to the island defensive-point in time, would without doubt be killed.