Wulfric stood alone on the worn road, staring across the fields at the walls of Camphorae. A line of travelers and pilgrims filed through the town's gate after a cursory inspection by the town guards. He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his feet forward. When he reached the gate, the guard looked him up and down, taking in his dusty monk's habit. "The cathedral is just off the main street, brother," the man said before waving him through.

Wulfric let out a breath he didn't know he was holding after he passed through the portico and into the quiet cobbled streets of the small town. Instead of heading for the Arcean cathedral, despite how much he wanted to pray, he made himself walk down to where the a tributary of the river flowed through a wide grate into the city. The shadows were lengthening as night set in, making the fortress north of the town grow more imposing. Wulfric slipped into the tunnel at the riverbank and down towards the opening on the other side. Torvald, Skaldi and Ivarr crouched on a small stone lip next to the water while Wulfric struggled with the rusted iron padlock that would allow the grate to swing inwards.

"Wait a moment," Torvald hissed before clicking his tongue at Dismas. The Chatot fluttered down from Wulfric's shoulder as Torvald muttered a handful of commands. "You'll want to stand back," the warrior advised Wulfric. Dismas's wings began to glow as he channeled his inner power, making his muscles and feathers stiff and rigid as steel. With a squawk, he beat at the lock until it fell from the grate with a clatter.

Ivarr shoved the barrier open, its hinges protesting with a long, drawn-out shriek. His Beartic lumbered in after him, the massive white beast's shoulders stooped to fit in the cramped darkness of the tunnel. "Let's hurry and get the fun started, eh?" Ivarr chuckled, clapping one hand on Wulfric's shoulder as he crept by.

Skaldi splashed through the shallow water, his Breloom and Ampharos bounding after him. "I'll set a few fires," he called back to Torvald. "That should buy you some time."

Torvald waited until Ivarr and Skaldi had disappeared into Camphorae to set about their assigned tasks before turning to Wulfric. "I'll admit, I'm impressed that worked."

Wulfric shrugged. "Most towns on a river like this have a way to let the water flow through, and they get used to smuggle things in and out. I doubted Camphorae would be any different."

Torvald smirked. "It's better than Halvard's plan." The jarl had thought to conceal several warriors in the bed of a wagon pulled by Steinarr and driven by Wulfric so that they could infiltrate the walls of Camphorae and open the gates for the larger assault when night fell. He had hit a snag when Wulfric pointed out that wagons were very likely to be searched by the guards, and their ruse would undoubtedly be discovered. However, barring an alternative, Halvard was willing to forge ahead. Wulfric had managed to dissuade him from this course by proposing a different solution that would put fewer men at risk but ultimately achieve the same goal.

A Kalosian army would be unlikely to try and infiltrate a city from the river tunnels, because it would be terribly difficult to bring in a substantial force and deny them the use of any of the large pokemon that were staples in Kalosian warfare. As such, the tunnel was likely to be unguarded as it posed no defensive risk to an inland city under the king's protection. And so, Wulfric had infiltrated the city and was preparing to throw its gates wide open for the northmen.

Torvald and Wulfric waited by the riverbank until they saw thick plumes of smoke rising from across the city. On the high street above them, they heard the rapid footfalls of town guardsmen as they raced to fight the fires before they could spread. Torvald flexed his fingers and Skerast wrapped around his arms. Wulfric palmed a dagger he had worn beneath his robes, figuring that even on the slight chance he was searched at the gate, it would not be far-fetched for a lone traveler, even a monk, to be armed.

Torvald raced to the guardhouse, Wulfric close on his heels. The northman crashed through the door to the small room at the base of the tower before Wulfric could catch up. The monk heard a strangled cry and two heavy thumps. When he peered around the doorframe, he saw Torvald standing before an overturned table with two corpses bleeding out on the floor. The city gates had been shut at sunset, and the locks were sturdy constructions of wood and metal. Torvald gestured at the heavy doors. "Figure out how to get those open before someone notices we're here."

After a moment's examination, Wulfric instructed Torvald on how to throw the bolts back while he operated the levers that guided the mechanisms. Together, they pushed the left door open wide enough to admit a man, allowing in a stream of northmen waiting in the shadows beneath the outer wall. By now, the city guards had taken notice, but their shouts of alarm came too late. The northmen silenced them with arrows and blades as they spread out into the city.

When Ulfi and his Druddigon squeezed through the gates, he and Hjodtr helped Torvald push the doors wider, allowing Halvard and Steinarr to ride through. Ragnhildr and Svein ran alongside the Gogoat with Geirr and Talvar, the two fire-aligned giddy with excitement. Halvard nodded to his warriors and grinned. "To the castle!" The northmen cheered as they took off up the high street.

By now Skaldi's fires had spread, despite the best efforts of the town guards. Wulfric figured they had to be a suitably terrifying sight for the guards stationed outside of Duke Verron's fortress, a shadowy horde appearing suddenly from the flames. Halvard raised his axe high while his handpicked band of warriors formed a shield wall in front of him. "Charge!"

The northmen screamed as they raced at the castle gates. Verron's knights ran to meet them, their armor glinting in the firelight. They crashed into the Shieldwall, and the warriors of Rovngalad began to push them back after the initial charge broke on their shields. The northmen parted to allow Torvald through, Skerast's two blades glowing with white light. Steinarr soared over their heads, landing just before the portico of Verron's castle. Several members of Verron's guard were trying to lower the heavy metal grate to bar the northmen from entering, but Ulfi saw their strategy. He and Hjodtr ran underneath the falling metal curtain and braced themselves, supporting the crushing weight of the steel with their muscular forearms. "Hurry up!" the boat builder shouted. "I can't hold this forever!"

Torvald and Aesgir ran inside and efficiently butchered the men lowering the gate before raising it back up. Ulfi massaged his arms and grimaced as Ragnhildr and Halvard coordinated the rout of Verron's knights back towards the burning town. They were pursued by a detachment of northmen, leaving the main gate of the castle undefended but for the corpses of the slain. Wulfric tried to steady himself and waved Halvard over. "If this castle is anything like the one at Coumarina, what we're looking for should be in the armory, and that should be near the guard station."

The jarl nodded and led his remaining warriors inside. Other guards within the castle itself ran out to meet them, but the northmen dispatched them with casual ease. Due to the nature of their attack, many of the knights were unarmored and, despite their skill with the blade, tunics and nightshirts did little to deter the northmen's swords and axes. When they finally broke down the door to the armory, Halvard directed his men to take anything they could fit into the sacks they carried. Wulfric watched as the northmen snatched helmets, gauntlets, breastplates and swords in a frantic haste, their sacks clanking with the weight of the metal.

Torvald glanced at his brother. "I'm sure if we looked, we could find enough gold to make our ships ride low in the water."

Halvard brusquely shook his head. "There's no time for that. We need to leave."

The northmen came up from the castle catacombs only to find the doors to the outside had been shut and the two sentries they had left to guard their retreat had been cut down. A broad-shouldered man in gilt-edged armor sat mounted on the back of a Rapidash in the middle of a company of knights. "You'll go no further, pagan savages."

Halvard stepped forward and swept into a low bow that still managed to come off as sarcastic. "Duke Verron, I presume?" he asked in accented Kalosian. "I am sorry we had to meet like this. In my own homeland, I am something of a duke as well."

The duke's scowl deepened, and Wulfric had to fight down the urge to step backwards. Verron stroked his beard. "A savage who speaks a civilized tongue, but a savage no less." He gestured at the sacks Halvard's men carried. "You have something that belongs to me."

Halvard shrugged. "Ah, but you had something that I needed. I found these lying in your armory unused. Surely I can put them to better use than gathering dust. Your men all seem to be armored already. Surely you can part with these?" When Verron's scowl deepened, Halvard winked. "Why don't we have a wager? If I win, we leave with our spoils. If I lose, we surrender the armor back to you."

"What would the wager be?"

"In your land, knights ride at each other and try to unseat the other one. They… they…" Halvard snapped his fingers at Wulfric. "What do they do?"

"They tilt."

"They tilt. Yes. We will have a tilt."

Verron's face split into a sinister grin. "Yes, we shall have a tilt." Wulfric swallowed the lump in his throat. Duke Verron had never been unhorsed, and his skill as a rider was known all throughout Kalos. Wulfric had told Halvard this, but the northman seemed blithely unconcerned as he swung up on Steinarr's back and drew his sword and axe. Verron tapped his heels against his Rapidash's flanks and trotted forward. His men parted before him and stood at attention.

At Verron's word, he and Halvard galloped at each other, their mounts' hooves clattering on the stone floor of the great hall. Just before they collided, Halvard jerked Steinarr away, and they raced off to the left. "Coward!" Verron bellowed. "You filthy coward!" The duke turned just in time to see Halvard raise his axe and throw it. The weapon spun through the air and buried itself in the thinner armor of the duke's back, making Verron lurch and fall from his horse. Steinarr continued his charge, slamming his horns into the doors to the castle and throwing them open.

Torvald roared as he rushed the line of Verron's men at arms, Skerast's glowing blades ripping through the mail of the first unfortunate man. The other northmen in Halvard's company followed, throwing the Kalosian ranks into chaos. When they emerged from the castle, Wulfric saw the town to the south was entirely engulfed in flames. "Hurry!" Halvard called. "If we don't move now, we won't be able to get through!"

Ragnhildr stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Sigrund dropped from the sky and several warriors pressed their sacks of armor on the Noivern. She took as many as she could carry in her claws and lifted off with several powerful beats of her wings, straining under the weight of the iron. "It will take her a while to get those back to the ships," Ragnhildr told her brothers. "We're on our own for now."

Halvard nodded and led his men back towards the town gates. As they ran by the burning cathedral, Wulfric saw Skaldi standing on the stairs, his arms bedecked in the holy golden bangles that had once adorned the back of the altar. The northern priest laughed uproariously as the flames made the beams of the church creak and groan. "Get away from there!" Torvald bellowed as the first of the supports crashed down. Skaldi kept laughing as he raced after them, and Wulfric saw that the priest was covered head to toe in blood. He forced himself not think of what had happened to the Shepherds and monks who had no doubt sought shelter in the sacristy.

Branna screamed as she flew on ahead, swooping and diving through the leaping flames. A small contingent of surviving city guards stood in a semi-circle around the city gate with a troop of Pawniard and Bisharp. The northmen formed up a shield wall to engage them when a loud bellow rang out over the roar of the flames. Ivarr and his Beartic crashed into the guards from their flank, scattering their ranks. Halvard sounded the charge, and the shield wall advanced in the confusion, splitting to allow Hjodtr and Geirr through to box in the Pawniard troops. A flock of Murkrow were released from the top of the guard tower, no doubt to inform the neighboring lords that the northmen had invaded.

"Branna!" Torvald shouted. "Stop them!"

"You too, Dismas!" Wulfric added.

The two birds soared off into the night, their wings glowing as they stiffened their muscles for aerial combat. Dismas released a concussive burst of sound that disoriented the flock while Branna soared upwards only to stoop again, picking off the stunned dark aligned one by one.

Wulfric would have loved the opportunity to watch Dismas display his newfound combat prowess, but a Bisharp had managed to approach the shield wall and was currently battering Wulfric's shield. The monk braced himself and shoved back, knocking the steel aligned off-balance. He brought up the edge of his shield and brought it down hard on the Bisharp's head, and the steel aligned collapsed. The shield wall pressed forward, and the Kalosian defenders gave way, allowing the northmen to get through to the gate. Once they had reformed the shield wall in the arch of the gate, the captain of the Kalosian guards shouted something. With a rattle of chains, the heavy iron portcullis above the gate began to lower to trap the northmen within the city wall. Reinforcements spilled out from the burning streets, hemming in the warriors of Rovngalad.

As the iron grate crashed down, Ulfi and Hjodtr positioned themselves to try and catch it as they had the one in Verron's castle. "No!" Wulfric cried. "This one will be much heavier. Get clear!" Hjodtr moved much faster than his trainer, tackling the old boat builder out of the way, and they both tumbled outside of the gates just as the metal portcullis finished its descent. "Get clear!" Halvard shouted to Ulfi. "Go back to the boats and be ready to sail off! If they come for you before we do, just leave without us!"

"Jarl Halvard…"

"That's an order, Ulfi! If they come for you, we'll all be dead!"

Ulfi nodded and together he and Hjodtr vanished into the darkness outside of the city. Torvald glanced at his brother. "We don't have a lot of options here. Even if we could fight our way down to the river gate, there's no way we could all get out."

Halvard gritted his teeth. "And trying to fight our way through might result in more losses." He swore and shook his head. "I don't know what to do. I'm all out of clever plans." He turned and locked eyes with Wulfric. "Please. I need your help."

Wulfric's mind worked furiously. There was no way they could hold off the Kalosian soldiers and break through the portcullis. Their backs were literally to the wall, and it seemed as though Halvard's much-vaunted luck had run out. Wulfric couldn't shake the feeling that this was his fault, that with a clearer plan of retreat he could have avoided this, could have gotten all the northmen out safely. But he could see no way out of this.

"Northern savages!" Duke Verron boomed from the middle of the high street. The duke was supported by two of his men, and obviously in pain, though he had obviously only taken the minimal treatment for the wound in his back. "When you're all dead, I'll hang you from the walls of Camphorae to show the world what happens when pagans invade my land! Onward!"

His soldiers and knights advanced on the narrow gateway arch, and Wulfric shrank back against the metal grate. "Shield wall!" Ragnhildr shouted. "Form up and brace yourselves!" The northmen hurriedly got into formation, overlapping the edges of their shields and shifting their weight to best repel the attackers. A few muttered things to their neighbors, hushed goodbyes and well wishes, promises to meet again in the Cold Halls. Wulfric placed a hand over his chest where his iron ring sat and whispered a brief prayer for a mercifully quick death.

"Kill them!" Verron shouted. "Kill them all!"