Grillby knelt crouched between a pair of trees, his flame cast as low as he could manage it as he waited for Amathea to give the signal. To his right, Gaster knelt beside him, a skeletal hand gripping the elemental's shoulder as if it could reassure him. It clawed nervously at his armor, but Grillby knew better than to ask Gaster to move it, not now while there was nothing to distract him from the feeling of dread building in the air. Behind them both, Grillby could hear the soft crunching and scuffling as the rest of the army shifted nervously, waiting for the other commanders down the line to give their final order. They were just beneath the crest of a hill, hidden from view in the thick trees that rimmed its surface. On the other side of it, the battle they'd been meant to intercept had already begun. They were late.
But their lateness did afford them an opportunity - an opportunity Amathea and the other commanders intended to exploit. The humans had no idea they were en route. They wouldn't know they existed until the new army was swooping down on top of them. That was what they were setting up now. As the shouts and clashes of battle rung muffled in the distance before them, and the smell of magic and smoke pervaded the air, the commanders enacted their one last scheme before joining the fray. They had gathered up every ice-using monster in the shambling force, instructing them in making a slow creep of frigid magic. It poured down into the valley below in a slow creep that glazed over the grass, just barely visible as a shimmering coating in the midday sun.
A whistle sounded low up ahead and Grillby snapped his head towards it. Amathea was loping over to him, her body stooped low just in case someone should catch the glint of her armor over the hillside. She slid to a halt in the pine needles and dying leaves that carpeted the ground, grinning at Grillby with that golden smile.
"Ready to go tinderbox?" she asked in a harsh sort of whisper, ear frills twitching with glee, "They'll be sounding the charge in a few minutes."
"Is this really necessary?" the elemental hissed back at her with a quiet spark, "We could already be down there you know!"
Amathea let out a growl of a chuckle, "Trust me Grillby, this is worth the extra minutes. Cover will keep our momentum going."
Her face split open in an exhilarated grin, "And it'll make one hell of an entrance!"
Grillby shook his head, sparking in annoyance, "Whatever you say."
"As long as it doesn't get us killed, I'm all for it," Gaster muttered with a nervous laugh.
Amathea gave Gaster a hearty pat on the back, "You just stay close to me and Grillby. We've seen enough of this mess to get you through the other end of it. Just for heaven's sakes, don't go chasing some fool human and getting yourself trapped with a bunch of them! More good monsters fall to that mistake then I'd care to admit to."
Gaster nodded, his hand squeezing Grillby's shoulder one last time before finally letting go. He stuffed both his hands in his pockets and frowned at the crest of the hill before him. A loud thump shook the air, knocking twice into one of the trees above them. The hulking form of Brigg rose to his full height on the hilltop, the dragon's tail hitting a final knock into the tree beside him and echoing down the hillside. Amathea sprung up instantly, dashing forward.
"Everything's in place!" she chimed over her shoulder, "Let's go!"
Grillby was on his feet in an instant, following in the commander's footsteps with Gaster fast on his heels. Behind him he could hear the shift in the forest as every monster behind them did the same, orders slowly relaying themselves down the ranks. A creeping feeling of nervousness twisted its way around Grillby's core, gripping him ever tighter as he reached the crest of the hill. For a ways below him, sprawled out like pieces on a game board he could see humans and monsters battling. The line of them stretched for as far as he could see across the valley below, an undulating mass of mixing banners, creatures and magic. The sun glanced across weapons and armor, moving flashes marking the paths of the fighting. Scattered at the backs of the front lines reinforcements marched and messengers ran, relaying orders and readying to spring forward should any point across the line break. Grillby was impressed by just how many bodies were down there. Though he realized with a malcontented flicker that in the mess of people below, there was no way he could decipher if the mage he was looking for had even made an appearance yet.
Amathea motioned for Grillby to move, and the elemental nodded, switching his gaze to the grass down the side of the hilltop they stood upon. The fine layer of ice that coated it was hardly noticeable, a dew-like shimmer that was quickly melting in sunlight. The elemental sighed out a breath, sending snake-like tendrils of fire down to it, the white-hot attacks singeing the grass before meeting the cool ice and erupting into a cloud of smoke and steam. The hissing cloud cascaded into the valley, and with a final order the monsters standing on the hill moved to follow it.
Any humans who saw the cloud would have no idea the host behind it, nor what creatures helped it come into existence. They could hardly pick out the straggling figures as the last of the group began their descent to join the rest. It was a good plan, worth the wait for the extra moment of surprise where any generals of the human's armies would be unawares as to what exactly was entering the field past the creeping cloud. Grillby still thought it was a bit showy though. And it impeded everyone's vision, not just the humans' they were trying to outflank.
They were three-quarters of the way down the hill when the call was made to run, and suddenly their concealed march rolled into a forward charge. Grillby felt the wind fan his flame hotter, sparks and tendrils of it spreading in the air behind him as the nervousness in his core hardened into a rush of determination and cool acceptance. He could feel Gaster at his side, the skeleton's fleet steps keeping pace with Grillby as they charged. Just shortly ahead of him, Amathea punched a fist forward, an enthusiastic screech on her teeth, clawed fingers wrapping around one of her spears as it crackled to life. Grillby huffed out a smoking breath, fiery spear-like attacks sparking to life near his shoulders. He slipped his shield from his inventory and onto his arm just as the first human sprung into view, materializing just as their makeshift fog began to disperse.
Grillby hunched his shoulder behind his shield and crashed into the unawares human with his full momentum and weight, sending him flying to the side with a crunch of breaking bone and a startled scream. In a fluid motion the elemental pivoted around to the next he saw, sword rising into his hand and striking fiercely into the weak spot in the human's armor right where his arm met his torso. With a harsh sigh, Grillby released the flaming spears he'd been holding in reserve into the crowd before him, slamming one into a clump of warriors who had just turned to meet the new menace, the second scattering a few more. By the time his momentum began to ebb away, Grillby was in the middle of a crowd of humans, sword and spear points bristling in his direction as the startled host finally managed to turn and face the charging mass of monsters that had slammed into its side.
The bright shimmer of blue and teal blossomed to life then, Amathea's hail of spears diving from the heavens a staggering rain of armor-shattering intent that sent humans diving out of the way and lifting shields wearily above their heads. In its wake bone attacks leaped from the ground, impaling human bodies on their sharpened points as Gaster took advantage of the opening in defense that Amathea created. The skeleton kept his hands stubbornly in his pockets, a nervous smile dancing on his teeth as he skirted away from the falling sword-stroke of one of the surviving humans. With a purple flash of the skeleton's magic, Gaster had the human shattered on a dozen bones.
Grillby marched stubbornly forward, patterning parries with his shield and lunges with his sword alongside vicious fire attacks that ravaged both the creatures close to him and those he could see to shoot farther away. His whole body echoed a grim frown, his fire stoked hot enough to burn his armor in smelted reds and golds and scorch the ground he stepped on. It boiled and seared away the blood that spattered on him whenever his sword fell and stung him with the bittersweet smell it left behind. There was a tireless hum reverberating in Grillby's core, driving him step by persistent step forward. And while he worked his eyes darted back and forth between Amathea and Gaster, keeping a sharp look for if either of them stumbled or reeled from the shock of losing HP.
His friends were strong though, and for all his worries about Gaster the skeleton seemed to be holding his own. He was a flurry of movement, dancing steps that deftly evaded sword strokes and spears and a keen eye that reserved attacks only for the most opportune moments. Gaster sent as many humans to their graves as he incapacitated with clever stabs to the joints at their legs. After all, a man who fell injured was just as useless in a fight as those who fell dead. It was only a matter of making sure the wound was severe enough to keep them down.
Meanwhile Amathea was making herself a beast of a warrior, timing her attacks in crushing waves that sent humans staggering away from her, reeling and regrouping in an attempt to find safety in numbers. The few that made it through her seemingly impenetrable fortress of crackling spears were met with the grip of green magic, or the most soul-rending magical screech that Grillby had ever heard. Twice he felt the sound of it go off with a heavy concussion nearby him, and each time he glanced over bewildered to watch as whatever human Amathea had been fighting with fell back lifeless before the grip of the magic in her voice, face contorted into looks of pain and awe from the shock of the sound.
It was disheartening watching how well they moved, how viciously they fought, only to have two, three, four more humans spring up where every single one fell. The further they cut into the forces before them, the denser the army of humans became. Slowly yet surely their momentum died off, drawing their entire force into a bitter stand-still of exchanging blows and magic as the humans rebounded and fought back tooth and nail. This was when battling got trickier, when the final shock of their forward charge made way for the press of bodies and the slow grinding loss of life. This was when you had to stay conscious of your surroundings and pray that some turn in the tide of the battle didn't see you stranded amidst a sea of your enemies, alone and ready to be dusted.
It was then that the battle slowly started turning for the worse on the monster side, when their rugged standstill made way for the reinforcement troops standing behind the struggling line of humans to regroup with a plan. Grillby wouldn't have noticed it happening. He was too intent on the group of humans before him, on dashing their sword strokes away and reaching fiery attacks towards them, seeking to stagger an opening to split their ranks apart. It was Amathea, ear frills twitching and keen eyes glaring, who noticed the imperceptible shift in the way the line before her fought, shields made a little more ready and ranks closing a little tighter.
"Bowmen!" she screeched, her magic-laced voice carrying farther than any other commander Grillby had ever worked with. She instantly dropped to one knee, that magical shield of hers crackling to life as the high, shrill whistle of flying projectiles keened to life overhead. Grillby snapped his head up towards the sky, grimacing at the dark needle-thin lines that crossed each other in the sky. All down the line, humans lifted their shields to take shelter for a moment. Behind him, Grillby could hear shields and magic crackling and shifting as monsters scrambled to do the same. His gaze flicked to Gaster, the skeleton staggering back a step fearfully as his pinprick eyes locked on the flying projectiles as they traveled on their arc downward. He had a look of sheer panic plastered on his face, confused magic trying to decide how it was supposed to shield him from the coming onslaught.
Grillby jerked forward and grabbed him, clamping a hand around the skeleton's arm, throwing him to the ground and crouching beside him. The elemental hefted his shield higher, using it to shield Gaster's face and chest while the rest of his armored body stood between the falling bolts and his friend. There was a breathless pause as Grillby braced himself, before the bitter hail slammed down on top of them. Monsters behind them screamed and fell, but Grillby was too intent on holding his shield in place to bother looking back at them. His arm jarred with each arrow that pinged off his shield, his body shuddering from the impacts of the angry bolts. Those that hit his shield broke or skittered away, save for one that managed lodge itself shakily in the dents caused by the others. The tip of it stabbed bitterly at Grillby's hand through the back of the shield itself. A few more heavy hits jabbed themselves into Grillby's molten body, piercing through his chainmail with all the intent of the humans behind them. He stuttered out a sharp gasp as they punched into his core.
"Grillby?!" Gaster hissed, eyes darting nervously around at the arrows decorating the elemental into a molten pincushion. Grillby rolled his eyes.
"Oh I'm fine," the elemental spat past a shudder as he clamored to his feet, "That just feels so uncomfortable."
Gaster stumbled to his feet after him, a nervous grin on his teeth, "Well uncomfortable is better than dead I guess."
There was a lingering, panicky sort of worry clinging to the edge of Gaster's smile, and Grillby struggled not to scoff at it. He was an elemental for heaven's sakes! And the arrows sure weren't made of ice or water.
"If you two ladies are done chatting about the weather!" Amathea shouted at them, bringing their attention back to the present. She'd dropped her green magic, and with what remained of their line she was backing up, regrouping amongst the injured and dusted monsters caught in the hailstorm of arrows.
"Gaster! Target practice!" she ordered, pointing with her spear in a vague direction ahead to their right, "Grillby get ready to follow it up! We need to take out those archers before they throw another volley!"
"Right!" the two of them shouted in unison before scrambling into action. Gaster threw a hand out, directing the slow buildup of magic as it curled around him and piece by piece opened around his body in a cage of bones and slowly forming teeth. Grillby stepped close to him as a handful of humans surged towards them, alerted by the reek of powerful magic as the beastly blaster crackled to life. The elemental went to work with his sword and his fire, keeping them back as the last pieces of Gaster's skeletal dragon clicked into place and the blast of concentrated magic fired. The air was ripped apart by screams and the overwhelming stench of burning flesh.
The blast fizzled out, leaving a gap in the line of humans that quickly scrambled to reform itself again. But not before Grillby could get a good look at the line of archers standing back behind them, bows raised and arrowheads glittering just before their release. Grillby leaped into motion, a wave of fire coursing in the opening Gaster's attack had left behind. This time when the arrows released, only half the number of the last volley made it into the sky.
Gaster and Grillby sunk into a clockwork kind of tandem, filling the void the other left behind while Amathea gave them direction, her spears flooding in where they missed or rested. Grillby guarded the skeleton when he charged his heavy attacks, obliterating small portions of the line of humans before them, punching holes in their defense. And when he rested between attacks Grillby filled the magical void with waves and lances of flame. They stood together until their footsteps grew tired and their magic less ravenous and consuming.
Thankfully, mercifully, the sun began setting before exhaustion could shake them apart. A retreat was called, and as the remaining skirmishes on the field killed themselves off, each side retreated back.
"I don't understand," Gaster panted exhausted, "We're stopping? Did we win?"
"They retreated first," Grillby muttered, "I say we won the day."
"Nobody's won, numbskull," Amathea growled, glancing nervously back over her shoulder as she led them back across to field where one of the larger groups of monsters was amalgamating itself together, "Not yet anyway. Just everyone knows you can't fight in the dark unless you're a ghost… or insane."
"So we just… stop? Take a break for the night?" Gaster laughed incredulously, "You're kidding."
Grillby shook his head tiredly, "Oh trust me, if you can sleep with that bundle of joy just across the field, then you're crazier than the monsters fighting in the dark."
"Oh just be happy it's not a full moon," Amathea spat, her voice bitter and tired, "Give them enough to see by and humans will find a reason to keep tearing things apart."
She shot one last look over her shoulder before mumbling under her breath, "Damned determined things."
They stumbled their way along in the failing light, Grillby quickly becoming the only thing to illuminate their path. As they went, Amathea would occasionally pause to point Gaster to one fallen monster or another, checking to see if they'd fallen too far to make the walk back where they could get some form of mediocre help that could be afforded. Not many joined them.
Their camp for the night was a bitter makeshift shelter at the base of the valley, really only sheltered by the trees that grew nearby. It broke any wind that could sweep through, but still left them feeling strangely exposed without any barricades or walls to give the illusion of safety. A quick headcount was made, a basic scope of injured and fallen taken note of. They'd lost nearly a third of their number in one day to death or injury. Some nasty hope in Grillby's chest prayed the humans fared the same.
"I don't understand though," Gaster said, finding a flat enough piece of ground to sit on and settling down, "Isn't this battle supposed to end when you kill the mage? We didn't even see one."
"Well of course we didn't," Amathea tutted, ushering with her hand for Grillby to sit beside Gaster, "And if that mage is smart, they're going to cause as much grief as far away from Grillby as possible. Help me pick these arrows out of his armor, Gaster, he looks like an old maid's pin pillow."
Grillby flickered a smirk, holding patiently still as Gaster and Amathea went to work on his armor, wiggling arrows free of their clinging holds and breaking a few of the fragile shafts in the process. Meanwhile Grillby got to work on the one stuck in his shield, grimacing as he tried to pull it free without damaging the thing even more.
"Fighting won't stop just because the mage dies either," Grillby hummed, "Well… it might. It'll hit their moral pretty bad. But they've still got the numbers left to ravage us if the battle goes right for them. If their commanders can maintain enough control they'll keep fighting."
"Well that sucks," Gaster growled as he ripped an arrow free from where it had lodged itself by Grillby's neck. He twisted the deadly little point in his hand for a moment, frowning slowly.
"Uh… thank you… by the way."
Gaster chuckled a crackle, sparks shimmering away from his form, "For what? Throwing you in the dirt?"
Gaster gave him a soft shove, "For saving my life. I'd be dust right now if it weren't for you."
Grillby shrugged, dragging an annoyed growl from Amathea as she tried to yank another arrow from its place, "Don't worry about it. Everyone freezes up at some point. Fighting like that gets to you, especially when you're pretty sure you're about to die."
The ridge above Gaster's unbroken eye rose, "Really? Everyone freezes up like a complete moron when they're fighting?"
Grillby flashed in nervous, hesitant colors, "Well I mean… I didn't. But… I'm really weird. I'm sure Ammy's done it before. Right Ammy?"
"Aye sure I have," the fish monster growled triumphantly as she finally broke free the arrow she'd been menacing, "At the absolute worst time too."
Gaster gave an incredulous laugh, and Amathea grinned.
"Don't believe me do you? Ask Thetis, she'll let you know about it all right. My siblings and I came south on a boat, looking to destroy ourselves a couple of seaside villages on a little adventure. Got ourselves caught in a storm right of the coast. And to make matters worse, a big scaly sea dragon decided we were a tasty morsel!" the commander let out a satisfied tut as she pulled the last arrow in Grillby's armor free, "So there I was on the prow of our fine sea beauty. Staring into the big eye of that overgrown beasty. And Thetis and my brother Irade were yelling at me to sing. If ya just sing at the beasty you stupid girl it'll let us go and we can make shore!"
She heaved a dreamy sigh, remembering, "And I froze up like ice. Couldn't even scream I was so scared. Of course, that's when my older brother Ghirdam swooped in to save the day with those magic chains of his. Tied the great beasty's mouth shut while Thetis poked it full so full of holes it couldn't float anymore. A couple of the crew set us onshore gentle as a feather. I was so shaken up when they set us down I started bawling like a wee lass who's just had her heart broken at the spring fair."
Both Grillby and Gaster blinked at Amathea for a moment, watching as she smiled wistfully at the memory as if she were talking about a Sunday breakfast.
"You're joking," Gaster breathed incredulously, and Amathea rolled her eyes.
"Oh alright, so maybe I exaggerated the crying a bit," she harrumphed, "But I did cry when we made landfall. Tears of disappointment. You know how long Ghir lorded that damn rescue over me?!"
"She's not joking," Grillby chuckled.
"Say Ammy, is there anything you do that doesn't involve some wild death-defying adventure?" Gaster snorted. The commander fixed him in a vicious grin.
"Not if I can help it!" she chimed grandly, getting to her feet, "Now you two cumberworlds get yourself some rest while you still can. It'll be a long fight tomorrow, and you've a better chance of living through it if you've slept even a little."
Author's Notes:
I'm counting this as a Thursday update because I haven't been to sleep yet so obviously it isn't Friday yet. Right? I can do that. That works.
So first thing is I really really wanted to get some audio for you guys to play during this chapter but gosh darn it if I couldn't find something that fit. Hit me with ideas if you have something that does though!
And onto our history lesson for this week:
All the fighting/troop movement information I've used for this has been a strange slash/mix of American Civil War stuff, Roman advancements and battle tactics, and what I can find of Medieval battling basics. It's really hard to actually write this stuff without doing extensive study, and most of the information I'm finding online is vague. I did watch a few reenactment clips though, and possibly some LofR battle scenes. Probably not the most accurate but hey, I can try.
Anyway what I'm saying here is my battles are written mostly for coolness levels and not for accuracy levels (or as accurate as you can go with a war between magical creatures and humans) like I've been doing before.
First thing I've got for ya is: most troops didn't see battle. Those 10,000 people armies? A fraction of them actually saw fighting. That's the front lines of the fight, where two armies meet. The lines behind them will hopefully act as reinforcements and switch out with tired soldiers in the front who have been fighting for too long (which historically, according to Roman conquest, meant fighting for 20-30 minutes at a time. But this is fantasy dang it and I say they can fight half the day and no one can stop me! Real talk though - Grillby in this story canon can keep going until his magic exhausts itself, which is hard for him to do unless Gaster is forcibly yanking it out of him. And normal monsters I believe would function in the same way, but just with a drastically smaller pool of magic at their disposal. I mean, Sans fights for 10 minutes straight and he's in mediocre shape and has a medium(?) pool of magic at his disposal. Think how long a monster like Undyne or Asgore could keep fighting you at!). Anyway! Other uses for the back lines involved moving wounded to safety, relaying messages, and depending on the army sometimes that meant the generals were back there. The monster armies keep their commanders at the front with the fighting (obviously) but a lot of battle tactics had commanders sitting in tents at the back, watching and making calls from there.
Another coolthing you'll like to know is for every day a soldier spends in battle they spend like 2 weeks going between camps and transitioning to the battle field. Most soldiers actually didn't see that much drama. Now long sieges are different, but we're not counting those right now.
And yes, battles did stop at nightfall. Sometimes that decided who won actually! It was kinda like an elaborate game of chicken. Whoever decides its too dark outside and runs first loses.