Just another Mythos one-shot, but I've wanted to write a siege for a while. Enjoy! Warning: GORE.

The Citadel stood high on a hill, almost a shimmering dream in the distance. It's sparkle could be seen from miles away, and even leagues if the day was clear and the viewing point was high enough. Around it, great fields stretched, crops ripening under the sun. There were woods too, small glades growing into verdant forests that jutted their territory into the fields. Small settlements and towns sat between the fields, farmers' homes that had stood for many generations, their doorsteps worn nearly flat to the ground.

And in the center of it all, the Citadel rose upon a hill, the largest city of the state. One of three built during the Auran Era by the Aurai, that bastion had stood against floods, fire, storm and war. It's brothers to the south and west had crumbled long before, their inhabitants fleeing corrupt governors and plague. Their numbers had swelled the already overcrowded city that was the Citadel then, and so they expanded outwards, down the slopes of the hill, building ever further.

Eventually, expansion slowed, and the Citadel became a uniform circle, many walls dividing the city into a bulls-eye when seen from above. It was a metropolis, the center of the empire that it had helped to found. And empires always had enemies.

"SLAY THEM ALL!"

The lands now are sunken under a haze of dust and smoke. The settlements and fields, once idyllic in their beauty, now scorched by the flames of war. Bodies lie three deep in the ditches, but the fighting has moved towards the new epicenter of the battle, the Citadel. Huge, flowing armies mass at the base of the Walls, and the cries of battle echo from miles away.

==O==

Goddammit! They just keep coming... How many of these bastards can there be? High above the Walls, on a stone arch just wide enough for three men to stand abreast, Sergeant Larin took a stand against the raiders invading from the outer wall. A quarter of a mile away, he could see his other unit on the second of the two bridges flanking the West Gate.

"Come on lads! Show them that this Citadel cannot, and will not be taken by the likes of them!" His hammer reached for the sky, and came crashing down, bringing the weight of the heavens with it.

The raider's head disappeared in a red mist, and Larin kicked the body away, sending it tumbling over the edge, down to the battle-torn city below. We must retake the West Gate if we've got any shot at taking down their siege engines... The squadron moved as one, pairs sprinting towards their goal, that arch at the end of the bridge. Raiders stood in their path, and more than one man was lost, but no one faltered, and the opponents were always cut down.

Larin paused at the end of the bridge, regrouping his men atop the gatehouse for the West Gate. "Now, we move for the siege engines. They've set up just outside the walls, and-" A new enemy appeared, five warriors clothed in red robes.

"Come at us and see where it gets ye!" Telthis, a young recruit, but one Larin had taken a shine to, readied his pike and lunged at one of them, howling a war cry.

Blood spattered on the floor, and Telthis was the one impaled. He looked back at Larin. "Y-you did always tell me I was a bit overconfident."

The red robed warrior stood with a single finger pushing the base of the spear. The gauntleted hand flicked down, the spearhead went up, and Telthis fell, cut from waist to head. Larin didn't blink, his mind a war between emotion and logic. That man moved faster than I could even follow, and impaled Telthis with his own spear before the poor boy could blink! We're not up against a regular grunt here...

"Stay wary, and stay together. They're faster than you could ever hope to be." Larin grunted, and raised his hammer.

The first attack came as expected, blindingly fast and without any mercy. It was mere incredible luck that Larin's hammer intersected the arc of the spearhead. The metal tip and it's wooden mount snapped off, leaving Larin's opponent with a staff. A blur of brown wood and a hammer blow struck his left thigh. Must... stay... standing, for my... men. He lashed out blindly, turning the hammer head around to the spiked end, and felt something wet give under his strike.

"Got you, you slippery bastard." The robed figure stood transfixed by the hammer's spike. A sigil etched in black on their hood suggested a position of leadership. Larin pulled his weapon out with a sickening squelch, and surveyed the parapet around him.

Two other robed figures lay dead, one lacking a head. As for the body of his defenders, less than half of the thirty still stood, and a portion of those were wounded. Only one red robe remained silhouetted against the sky, as the warrior leaped into the air from a cornerstone. Obviously, their inhuman speed and agility didn't extend to, as the robe was pierced by four crossbow bolts. The enemy crumpled to the ground and lay still.

"That's new. No matter, we have to keep moving. If you can walk, do so, or help someone who can't. We're finishing this."

"Sir! The second company!"

Larin spun to see another body of men running towards him. They wore his regiment's colors, and he was glad to see familiar faces among them. They were caked in gore, but still able to fight. We might have a shot at this after all...

==O==

At the top of the Citadel, in front of the highest tower, an elite regiment of mercenaries and military prepared to repel the largest force the Citadel had ever seen. The streets, not so steep as to be inconvenient but steep enough to allow something to roll down, would be the deciding factor in this battle. They were more like chutes, more heavy traffic running down the center while pedestrians strolled along the rims. During peacetime, they were an oddity, but during war they served a different purpose.

"Alright you all, get the boulders into position. There ain't a single friendly soul on this road now, so let em have it!" Commander Tharus had fought more wars than he had children, and that was no small feat for a man of his age.

A few tons of stone were rolled into place, large pieces of scrap metal protruding from it for maximum damage. No army has ever made it up these streets... With a blast of black powder, the boulder rolled down the street, gathering speed as it went. It was horrifying, and yet incredibly satisfying, to see the wake of the projectile as it barreled through siege engines and men alike, crushing and shredding all obstacles into a reddish mist. Finally, the boulder lost it's momentum in the moat that had been built just within the outer wall, specifically for this purpose.

"CHAAAAARGE! We have 'em runni-hkkkkkk" The inspiring cry unleashed from Tharus' throat was cut short by an javelin jutting through his larynx.

Projectiles from siege engines crashed down all around, throwing the formation into chaos. Men were pierced by ballistae bolts, and crushed by massive stones. It was all falling apart as the commander collapsed to his knees, his eyes turned to the sky. Why have you forsaken me, Great Blade? Was I not generous in my sacrifices to thee? If you have a soul, and a wish for the spirit of battle, save me here. Tharus coughed, choking out his dying breaths, until the arrow slid cleanly out of his throat, leaving him free to speak.

"B-but, how?

Think of this as a... renewal of your faith.

Tharus knelt, and then stood, hefting his crossbow, and swinging his waraxe above his head, rallying his men yet again. "BREAK THEIR CHARGE, AND RUN THEM DOWN!" His voice dropped to a whisper, "Your blessing will not be squandered..."

The battalion rode forth, the enemy army breaking apart before them like flotsam thrown before a wave. The vanguard of the barbarians was in disarray, severely diminished by the boulder that scythed through their midst only a minute before. Tharus fired a bolt through a man's chest, and beheaded another two with a single stroke before the enemy reacted. Even when they did, they could do nothing to stop Tharus and his men. Strikes missed their mark, arrows flew astray, and the mens' skin seemed hard as iron.

They would say after that the hand of a great being hovered above Tharus as he rode down through the city, and it's mighty grasp smote down enemies that opposed him. Tharus himself simply fought like a demon, his face spattered in gore. Just in front of the gates however, a complement of warriors clothed in red stood.

"Halt! Halt, damn you! These are not who we have faced before... They have not fled. Strike quick, and do not falter. The day is nearly won!"

The figures blurred, and weapons clashed as the groups met in combat. Tharus's men were being cut down around him, but he was too slow, too imprecise in his attacks. They aren't human, they can't be... Every once in awhile, the attacks would abate, whether because of a lucky strike landed on a red blur, or simply because the warriors were tiring. Bodies piled high, a disheartening amount of Tharus's men interspersed with red here and there. This is a losing battle.

==O==

"Load the blasted thing! Tharus needs our help!"

On the outside of the walls, Larin and his ragged team were pushing a ballista towards the gate, where Tharus's men still fought. The siege engines had fallen long before, and Larin men carried the head of the enemy general in a sack at his waist. If Tharus fell, however, the enemy would rally. I pray we are fast enough... We MUST be in range now!

Make haste.

The men of the company looked wildly around for the source of the voice, before focusing on a gleaming sight. A new figure stood in their midst, holding a new ballista bolt. It glowed brightly, like a ray of light made solid. Everyone averted their eyes from the light, for fear of blindness. Larin felt the urge to kneel, but resisted, and took the bolt from the heavenly... thing's hand. He loaded it, aimed, and felt a gauntleted hand on his shoulder, guiding him.

The bolt loosed like a lightning bolt, and struck with the sounds of thunder.

Hope you liked this, I wanted to write a siege, and I had an interesting idea for the city that would be under attack. More to come for the Mythos!