"Angela… Jesse isn't the only one here. We can't climb the walls, so we'll be going to you through the garrison. If you can, please clear us a path."
The winged cleric spared a moment to close her eyes and pray to Pelor as Genji's words echoed in her mind, clear as if he was standing right beside her. She wished it were that easy, but even mustering a sustained distraction proved to be a challenge. Fareeha was bold and decisive with her charges, yet magic barriers blocked her path at times when she was about to deliver the final blow. The injured mages could retreat and lick their wounds while the eldritch knights held the cavalier back with a wall of blades. Zenyatta fared little better. He danced in and around their enemies, metal limbs landing crippling punches and kicks while they tried desperately to catch him with spells of fire and ice. But he was little more than a nuisance to so many soldiers. Angela herself hung back, bobbing up and down in the air to avoid the worst attacks and diving down when she saw a chance to bludgeon an unsuspecting mage with her mace.
It was a battle of endurance, and while the warforged monk needn't worry about fatigue, the women had bodies of flesh and blood that would tire long before they felled every last mage and knight. If they pushed – like they would need to do to carve the path Genji needed – then they would almost certainly lose and forfeit the ability to retreat.
"Fareeha!" she shouted as the cavalier pulled back behind the rubble of what had once been a watchtower. Angela rushed to her side, healing spell on her lips to ease a burn gotten from a well-aimed fireball. The words flowed from her as easily as a sigh, turning red and black flesh back to its normal, healthy brown. Seeing her faith heal her friend didn't make her worry any less. "Genji found Jesse, but he's not alone."
"What?!" the cavalier gasped, panic clear in her eyes even partially hidden by her falcon-beak helm. "Tell me where! I will-!"
Angela raised her hand to ask for Fareeha to let her finish. "Genji wasn't worried, so I believe they're among allies, but he won't be able to climb the walls like he did to get in. They… need to exit through the gate."
Fareeha turned to look back at the garrison's southern gate. It had been wedged open by a gryphon's corpse when they found it, but the cavalier knew the secret words that opened it wide for them to rush in. Just like she thought, the mages had swarmed around the gate to block their advance, forming a fluid wall of bodies and magic between them and the rest of the garrison. The cavalier closed her eyes in thought, and Angela knew that they were thinking the same thing. "I will fight against the harshest of odds to protect my friends…" Fareeha sighed, "but I do not think we can break through their line before our friends arrive."
"I think you're right." The winged cleric looked back to the enemy forces, who were also regrouping. Zenyatta was still flitting among them, his hands and feet a blur as he unleashed flurry after flurry of blows. "But I won't abandon him either. Ready?"
Fareeha smiled, and Angela could almost feel the purr of excitement from Nassor. Readying a spell to give them both greater strength, she nodded. "Ready."
A piercing whistle echoed through the garrison, soon followed by a burst of light high above their heads. The women had to shield their eyes from it, as it shone like a sun in the middle of the night. They could only imagine the Vishkar mages were similarly reeling.
"Angela!" Zenyatta exclaimed, stumbling back to hide clumsily behind a nearby wall. "I do not deny the usefulness of such magic, but a little warning would do us all well."
"It wasn't me," the winged cleric objected, frantically blinking away the dark blotches that plagued her vision. "Genji… he's saying he's surprised, as well. It could be the Vishkari's doing…" But she highly doubted her own words. The curses streaming from the closest mages gave her the feeling that it wasn't their spell either. But… if it wasn't us… and it wasn't them… who could've done that? A Daylight spell is no small feat.
"Fear not, my friends!" A booming voice rang out from the direction of the gate. "I will be your shield!"
Angela wasn't one to believe in miracles. Ironic for a cleric, but she had always put more stock in what she could explain. She even rationalized her own powers, which came from her faith and devotion to the sun god, Pelor. Everything had a reason for happening, if one looked hard enough. But she couldn't think of any other reason for this besides a miracle. One of happenstance and coincidence, but a miracle nonetheless.
Because there was no way she could ever forget that voice, nor the warmth it brought to her soul.
"Reinhardt!" she nearly sobbed, turning towards his voice, though her eyesight still hadn't completely cleared. Tears were beginning to sting her eyes, but they were more tears of joy than of pain and hopelessness. "Reinhardt, I… I can't believe it!"
"Believe it! We are no illusion!" This time, it wasn't Reinhardt who spoke. As Angela's vision came back into focus, she saw that her old comrade wasn't the only one who had joined the fray.
Reinhardt was an imposing figure, his plate armor a small fortress surrounding his already towering frame. He marched forward with a purpose in his stride, hefting his greathammer in his hands. He was no paladin, despite how he always used to go on about honor during their Overwatch days, yet his presence made her feel comfortable and safe. Beside him, a similarly large woman with a shock of short, vividly pink hair fell in step with him. But most of her bulk wasn't due to her armor; she was decked in blue-tinted scale mail that hugged her torso as much as armor could. No, she was easily half again as tall as most human warriors, and with bulging muscles. In one hand, she easily swung a greataxe that rivaled Reinhardt's weapon in size. Is she… a giant? the winged cleric asked herself. There weren't many giants that looked quite like she did, though.
Their entrance hadn't gone unnoticed by the mages. Within moments of Angela's eyesight clearing, she heard a few of the nearest soldiers shouting arcane words, followed by rays of magical fire shooting towards the two. But the instant the spells hit Reinhardt's armor, they fizzled out, disappearing with an anticlimactic "pwooft."
The knight paused to brush the armor off where the magic had faded, chuckling loudly. "Was that all? Chimney fires have more bite than you!" His bluster was not in vain; those who were closest in front of the newcomers were visibly shaken, most bringing their staves and other mundane weapons up to defend themselves with. Pitiful defenses against those such as their new foes. Reinhardt let out one last laugh before charging in.
The earth shook beneath each of his footsteps, and both Angela and Fareeha turned to see one of the armored mages scream as the knight rammed him into the side of a building. Eldritch knights swarmed Reinhardt as soon as he'd stopped, but one swing of his greathammer was all it took to push them back, catching some in the arm or side while others were able to sidestep the giant weapon. Those who evaded the knight's attack were greeted with an equally unpleasant prospect, as the giantess wasn't far behind him, swinging her greataxe in short, precise arcs.
Angela felt tears sting her eyes. Just moments ago, she had been prepared to throw her life away in a vain attempt to rescue an old friend. Now… now, they actually stood a chance. She could see them all, bursting through the Vishkari defenses to meet Genji, Jesse, and whomever else they'd found. She could almost feel the draconic rogue's scaly arms wrapped around her shoulders, praising the gods that this night was not their last.
"The tide has turned, Angela. We need to go back into the fray!" Fareeha had to shake her shoulder to snap her out of the premature joy she'd been feeling. The cavalier kept Nassor from leaping to action with a steady hand on his reins, but she was just as eager to lend a hand to their saviors.
"Y-yes!" the winged cleric agreed, retrieving the words for her Enlarge spell from the recesses of her mind.
"Not so fast, lassies! I can't let you off before I give you some armor."
Angela suppressed a laugh, knowing immediately who else had joined them. He'd probably arrived just behind Reinhardt and the giantess, his short legs unable to carry him fast enough to keep up with such towering people. Torbjörn clomped up to the women with a third girl on his heels. The dwarf was adorned in simple leathers, but it was the toolbelt and pack that were truly his advantage in a battle. Grabbing a small rod out of a bandolier, he whispered in hurried Dwarven, weaving a spell into the wood, which he activated as soon as he was within a few steps of the cleric and cavalier. Warmth flooded into her chainmail, and she knew Fareeha felt the same happen to her plate armor. It wasn't the strongest of enchantments, but it was one she recognized well, as Torbjörn had cast it on her numerous times before heading into danger. If Reinhardt's presence had relaxed her, then the dwarven artificer's extra protection made her feel truly safe and secure.
Angela finished casting her spell, too, growing Fareeha and her gryphon to the size of a giant and mammoth respectively. With a single nod back to the cleric, she urged Nassor into the air, leaping upon a solitary mage who had somehow evaded both the hammer and the axe. Her work momentarily done, Angela whirled back to the dwarf and his similarly-dressed friend.
"I… I can't believe it! Torbjörn… Reinhardt… wh-why are you here?"
Before he could answer, Zenyatta seemingly appeared out of nowhere beside her. He had probably just approached during the insanity of the last few minutes, but it still startled her a bit. "Miss Angela, might I ask who our new allies are?"
The winged cleric looked to Torbjörn and the other lady to see if they would answer in her stead. Her tears were falling freely now, clearly visible in the light of the shining orb still above their heads. She didn't notice the grimace that crossed the dwarf's face the moment Zenyatta appeared. "The old man got a message from a town elder – Mira, I think – saying you might need help, and how could we turn down a chance to help such wonderful lassies like yourself?"
"Thank you," was all Angela could get out before realized that the diminutive man hadn't answered Zenyatta's question. Turning back to the warforged, who was waiting patiently beside her, she sighed, "Th-this is Torbjörn Lindholm. A-and the man fighting out there is Reinhardt Wilhelm. I don't know the others. I'm sorry!" She aimed her apology more towards the brown-haired woman who had yet to speak. The sounds of fighting were so distant to her in that moment.
"There's time for introductions later," the brown-haired woman replied, her voice loud enough to be clear without shouting it like Reinhardt did. "I'll patch up your warforged friend, so you can keep everyone else from bleeding out, Sister."
"Sister?" It took a moment for Angela to realize that her holy symbol was hanging in plain view around her neck. She had gotten so used to being called by her name that she had forgotten her official title within the clergy. "Oh! Yes. I still have some healing spells left."
The other woman nodded and grabbed some tools from her own belt, sidestepping Torbjörn to take a closer look at Zenyatta. "You just focus on healing then. We've got the spellcasting covered, but I can't knit flesh and bone as well as I can steel and stone."
Zenyatta didn't object to the other woman taking his arms to look for damage or as she ran her hands over the dents in his side to see how bad it was. He instead nodded to Angela. "I believe this is your cue to join the front lines. I will be with you momentarily, assuming your friend is a quick fixer."
"Don't rush me," the woman pouted for a second before smirking at the warforged. "But challenge accepted. You won't be out of the fight for long." Turning back to Angela, she shooed the cleric towards the battle. "What are you waiting for? Go! I'm counting on you to keep Sir Wilhelm intact."
"Right! Right…" Angela took a deep breath before stretching her wings and taking to the air, confident that she wouldn't be struck down by a rogue spell as Fareeha kept retreating into the air before each strafing run. There was hope in her chest that hadn't been there since the previous day, when she saw the garrison being attacked the first time. Now, there was a chance.
