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Spring, 1375
Quietly the surviving defenders filed into the church. Noncombatants- the very young and very old, women with children, sick, injured, wounded and disabled- sat clustered in small circles along the protective stone walls or deep among the seats in the nave. They looked over the outcome of the earlier fight with worry: perhaps half of the Stanton Militia had fallen in the combat outside, and the remainder were battered, bloody, exhausted and demoralized.
There was nothing to do but endure. Sonia stood at the altar with Father Mackie handing out cups of mead while Gren and Rebeka handed out loaded latchet crossbows with quivers holding three score bolts.
“How many folks can still fight?” The Stanton Elder quietly asked her husband.
Logan looked around. “I’d say three hundred.”
“We must hold here. The rest of us can fight.”
“We’re not there yet, but be prepared.”
“We survived as a town before the dragon, and we’ll survive without him.”
The Forester gave a small smile at the encouragement and nodded. As he sat on the floor to catch his breath, Logan nevertheless worried about a sudden attack from the Ragged Legion catching his battered defenders unaware while they regrouped and recovered. Mercifully though the enemy took a pause as well; despite his advantages, Pizzaro could not bring his entire force to bear against the defenders, for many of his best fighters had fallen and most of the rest were busy looting. Iron-willed and disciplined the legionary leader may be, most of his men were bandits and ruffians and vagabonds who in his presence would charge a castle but out of his sight would mostly look to enriching and enjoying themselves.
For fifteen minutes, all the town militia regrouped in the stone church, resting and rearming. Logan organized the new defensive strategy as best as he could.
“Rabia, take a hundred of the best fighters and hold the front door. Patel, take fifty warriors and protect the back ways. Sonia, have a hundred crossbowmen defend the windows. I’ll stay in reserve with another fifty and move them wherever we are needed most.”
“And me?” Fink suddenly asked. He had somehow appeared after surviving the fall of the Eastern Blockhouse.
Logan handed him a latchet crossbow. “You hold that nave window.”
The farmer was incredulous.“I am a better leader than Patel.”
“No you aren’t. Otherwise you would have helped the Guesters, who are sorely missed now. Atone for your crimes without risking the rest of us.”
Fink scowled, but snatched the crossbow and stormed over to his assigned post.
The Forester silently watched the farmer follow orders, before continuing.
“Finally, someone needs to go up to the steeple and keep watch over the situation. We need to know where and how the Ragged Legion are attacking. Someone else will need to communicate the information to us on this floor.” He shook his head. “These are very dangerous positions. I wish Paul were-”
“I’ll go to the bell tower.” Kena immediately volunteered by raising her hand.
“Thank you. You’re a brave lady, Kena.”
The cooper’s apprentice gave her signature grin. “Your son isn’t a bad person, Forester of Stanton. I just want you to know that.”
Logan nodded. “Understood. But you don’t need to do this for my benefit, or his.”
“I’m doing this. For everyone.” Kena replied defiantly.
“Very well then. Who can act as messenger?”
“I will.” Timothy stepped forward, exchanging a smile with the cooper’s apprentice. “Friends will stick together.”
Logan patted the young baker on the shoulder. “You are a good man, Timothy. I wish Paul were as good as his friends.”
He looked over his people, tired and battered but defiant townsfolk and farmers, and nodded. Good people, generally. “Now, everyone goes to take their positions. Good luck.”
The defenders positioned themselves and waited.
The Forester, no longer having the strength to utilize his bow effectively, tensely readied one of the latchet crossbows. He glanced out the window. Shadowy figures appeared out of the darkness and gloom, then quickly disappeared.
The Stanton Militia knew what was up next, readying their weapons.
Soon enough the renewed attack came, starting with a sudden volley of arrow fire from all sides. “Drop to the floor!” Logan immediately called out as he dived down, projectiles flying across the room in every direction. Reacting too slowly, Farmer Crane was struck by six arrows, standing awkwardly hanging like one of his scarecrows before crumpling to the floor. This attack was followed by small parties of the Ragged Legion attacking the side windows of the church and then as the defenders fired back, a large storming party appeared.
“Battering ram heading for the main door!” Came the yell from the steeple.
“Brace it!” Logan called Rabia as he led his reserve to the narthex as a mass of screaming warriors carrying a tree trunk to act as a ram quickly materialized out of the gloom. “Get that!”
A volley of bolts zipped out toward the attackers. Three Legionaries toppled to the ground causing the rest to drop the ram with them, but after a short pause more bandits from the back helped lift the weapon back and carry it to the door. With a cry, the ramming crew drew the beam back before thrusting it violently at the door. The ram slammed against the wood, the blow glancing due to poor initial synchronization. Nevertheless, the impact caused the door to shudder. Other bandits returned fire to the church and soon more defenders began to fall.
As arrows and bolts whistled through the air Sonia funneled more militia to take the place of those who fell, but reinforcements were quickly being used up.
Suddenly Fink toppled over, grasping his throat where an ugly bloody arrow now appeared.
Logan silently watched him breathe his last.
“Help him!” A voice called out.
“It’s of no use. He’s dying.” Logan muttered, reloading his crossbow. “And he deserved worse.”
A second blow from the ram hit the front door, a good impact that caused the entire structure to buckle.
As Rabia’s forces reinforced the entryway, Logan and Turin risked exposure to lean through the windows and fire at the rammers point blank through the adjacent windows. Two more Legionnaires fell, and again the trunk toppled. The attackers were nothing but persistent however, trying to pick up the ram yet again for a third effort.
“The back!” Kena suddenly called from the roof, quickly followed by the clash of arms in the rear of the building.
Logan cursed. He gestured to a dozen of his company to follow him to the other side of the building before ordering Turin to remain with Rabia: “Keep that thing down!”
Running through the church with his company under a gauntlet of projectiles flying in the air, the Forester found Patel's troops at the back door pushing their polearms through the gaps of a half-broken door, enemy pike heads similarly erupting out of the damaged barricade to try to slash at the defenders. Finding gaps within this tangle, Logan and his reinforcements took point blank pot shots through the holes, which were immediately accompanied by screams and an ease of pressure from the attackers.
“Attacks along the sides!” Kena’s directions came again.
With a deep breath, the Forester and the others ran down the nave. Small groups of Legionnaires had reached the wall of the church, firing blindly through the windows or even attempting to crawl inside. Clinging to the side of the wall, Logan led his defenders to return fire, occasionally grabbing enemies through the windows and dragging them into the church to kill. It was a messy, chaotic duel, but again Pizzaro’s forces were finally driven back.
Then a massive shudder erupted through the structure, immediately followed by the sound of cracking wood. Logan promptly took off back towards the narthex to find Rabia on the ground, bloody and stunned with a half dozen wounded or dead troops around him, while Turin and other defenders engaged in another brutal pike push against Pizzaro's forces through splintered, half buckled and broken doors. Pulling out his awlpike, the Forester joined in the fray, impaling one Legionnaire, then another. After a few minutes, Patel arrived, followed by more troops and together the unified defenders overwhelmed the attackers once again, sending Pizarro’s forces fleeing back into the dark.
Logan knelt by Rabia.
“How are you doing, man?”
The blacksmith nodded as he got back up, brushing the blood flowing down his forehead.
“They broke through, but I can still fight after a breather.”
“Take care, big guy.”
“Well, we beat them or we all die.” The blacksmith looked around over his command; a dozen dead, twice that injured.
“I need more folks here, I don’t know if we can withstand another blow.”
“I'll send over everyone we can spare.”
John Carpenter - Opening (The Fog)
From
TheDinosaurMann!
Quietly the surviving defenders filed into the church. Noncombatants- the very young and very old, women with children, sick, injured, wounded and disabled- sat clustered in small circles along the protective stone walls or deep among the seats in the nave. They looked over the outcome of the earlier fight with worry: perhaps half of the Stanton Militia had fallen in the combat outside, and the remainder were battered, bloody, exhausted and demoralized.
There was nothing to do but endure. Sonia stood at the altar with Father Mackie handing out cups of mead while Gren and Rebeka handed out loaded latchet crossbows with quivers holding three score bolts.
“How many folks can still fight?” The Stanton Elder quietly asked her husband.
Logan looked around. “I’d say three hundred.”
“We must hold here. The rest of us can fight.”
“We’re not there yet, but be prepared.”
“We survived as a town before the dragon, and we’ll survive without him.”
The Forester gave a small smile at the encouragement and nodded. As he sat on the floor to catch his breath, Logan nevertheless worried about a sudden attack from the Ragged Legion catching his battered defenders unaware while they regrouped and recovered. Mercifully though the enemy took a pause as well; despite his advantages, Pizzaro could not bring his entire force to bear against the defenders, for many of his best fighters had fallen and most of the rest were busy looting. Iron-willed and disciplined the legionary leader may be, most of his men were bandits and ruffians and vagabonds who in his presence would charge a castle but out of his sight would mostly look to enriching and enjoying themselves.
For fifteen minutes, all the town militia regrouped in the stone church, resting and rearming. Logan organized the new defensive strategy as best as he could.
“Rabia, take a hundred of the best fighters and hold the front door. Patel, take fifty warriors and protect the back ways. Sonia, have a hundred crossbowmen defend the windows. I’ll stay in reserve with another fifty and move them wherever we are needed most.”
“And me?” Fink suddenly asked. He had somehow appeared after surviving the fall of the Eastern Blockhouse.
Logan handed him a latchet crossbow. “You hold that nave window.”
The farmer was incredulous.“I am a better leader than Patel.”
“No you aren’t. Otherwise you would have helped the Guesters, who are sorely missed now. Atone for your crimes without risking the rest of us.”
Fink scowled, but snatched the crossbow and stormed over to his assigned post.
The Forester silently watched the farmer follow orders, before continuing.
“Finally, someone needs to go up to the steeple and keep watch over the situation. We need to know where and how the Ragged Legion are attacking. Someone else will need to communicate the information to us on this floor.” He shook his head. “These are very dangerous positions. I wish Paul were-”
“I’ll go to the bell tower.” Kena immediately volunteered by raising her hand.
“Thank you. You’re a brave lady, Kena.”
The cooper’s apprentice gave her signature grin. “Your son isn’t a bad person, Forester of Stanton. I just want you to know that.”
Logan nodded. “Understood. But you don’t need to do this for my benefit, or his.”
“I’m doing this. For everyone.” Kena replied defiantly.
“Very well then. Who can act as messenger?”
“I will.” Timothy stepped forward, exchanging a smile with the cooper’s apprentice. “Friends will stick together.”
Logan patted the young baker on the shoulder. “You are a good man, Timothy. I wish Paul were as good as his friends.”
He looked over his people, tired and battered but defiant townsfolk and farmers, and nodded. Good people, generally. “Now, everyone goes to take their positions. Good luck.”
The defenders positioned themselves and waited.
The Forester, no longer having the strength to utilize his bow effectively, tensely readied one of the latchet crossbows. He glanced out the window. Shadowy figures appeared out of the darkness and gloom, then quickly disappeared.
The Stanton Militia knew what was up next, readying their weapons.
Soon enough the renewed attack came, starting with a sudden volley of arrow fire from all sides. “Drop to the floor!” Logan immediately called out as he dived down, projectiles flying across the room in every direction. Reacting too slowly, Farmer Crane was struck by six arrows, standing awkwardly hanging like one of his scarecrows before crumpling to the floor. This attack was followed by small parties of the Ragged Legion attacking the side windows of the church and then as the defenders fired back, a large storming party appeared.
“Battering ram heading for the main door!” Came the yell from the steeple.
“Brace it!” Logan called Rabia as he led his reserve to the narthex as a mass of screaming warriors carrying a tree trunk to act as a ram quickly materialized out of the gloom. “Get that!”
A volley of bolts zipped out toward the attackers. Three Legionaries toppled to the ground causing the rest to drop the ram with them, but after a short pause more bandits from the back helped lift the weapon back and carry it to the door. With a cry, the ramming crew drew the beam back before thrusting it violently at the door. The ram slammed against the wood, the blow glancing due to poor initial synchronization. Nevertheless, the impact caused the door to shudder. Other bandits returned fire to the church and soon more defenders began to fall.
As arrows and bolts whistled through the air Sonia funneled more militia to take the place of those who fell, but reinforcements were quickly being used up.
Suddenly Fink toppled over, grasping his throat where an ugly bloody arrow now appeared.
Logan silently watched him breathe his last.
“Help him!” A voice called out.
“It’s of no use. He’s dying.” Logan muttered, reloading his crossbow. “And he deserved worse.”
A second blow from the ram hit the front door, a good impact that caused the entire structure to buckle.
As Rabia’s forces reinforced the entryway, Logan and Turin risked exposure to lean through the windows and fire at the rammers point blank through the adjacent windows. Two more Legionnaires fell, and again the trunk toppled. The attackers were nothing but persistent however, trying to pick up the ram yet again for a third effort.
“The back!” Kena suddenly called from the roof, quickly followed by the clash of arms in the rear of the building.
Logan cursed. He gestured to a dozen of his company to follow him to the other side of the building before ordering Turin to remain with Rabia: “Keep that thing down!”
Running through the church with his company under a gauntlet of projectiles flying in the air, the Forester found Patel's troops at the back door pushing their polearms through the gaps of a half-broken door, enemy pike heads similarly erupting out of the damaged barricade to try to slash at the defenders. Finding gaps within this tangle, Logan and his reinforcements took point blank pot shots through the holes, which were immediately accompanied by screams and an ease of pressure from the attackers.
“Attacks along the sides!” Kena’s directions came again.
With a deep breath, the Forester and the others ran down the nave. Small groups of Legionnaires had reached the wall of the church, firing blindly through the windows or even attempting to crawl inside. Clinging to the side of the wall, Logan led his defenders to return fire, occasionally grabbing enemies through the windows and dragging them into the church to kill. It was a messy, chaotic duel, but again Pizzaro’s forces were finally driven back.
Then a massive shudder erupted through the structure, immediately followed by the sound of cracking wood. Logan promptly took off back towards the narthex to find Rabia on the ground, bloody and stunned with a half dozen wounded or dead troops around him, while Turin and other defenders engaged in another brutal pike push against Pizzaro's forces through splintered, half buckled and broken doors. Pulling out his awlpike, the Forester joined in the fray, impaling one Legionnaire, then another. After a few minutes, Patel arrived, followed by more troops and together the unified defenders overwhelmed the attackers once again, sending Pizarro’s forces fleeing back into the dark.
Logan knelt by Rabia.
“How are you doing, man?”
The blacksmith nodded as he got back up, brushing the blood flowing down his forehead.
“They broke through, but I can still fight after a breather.”
“Take care, big guy.”
“Well, we beat them or we all die.” The blacksmith looked around over his command; a dozen dead, twice that injured.
“I need more folks here, I don’t know if we can withstand another blow.”
“I'll send over everyone we can spare.”
John Carpenter - Opening (The Fog)
From
TheDinosaurMann!
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Human
Size 2313 x 1947px
File Size 2.6 MB
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