"Hold the walls! Archers, aim and fire at will! Apothecary, I need an apothecary!" Zarina's voice filled the air as she knelt down beside a young fledgling, hands pressed over a shoulder wound inflicted by the damned Sarafan's arrows. Krellin, the youngest of Zephon's officers, had stayed behind to organize the defense, but it was Zarina who had quickly taken charge. At the moment the sorceress was pulling out the arrows on the fledgling's body as a young healer rushed to her side, bandages ready.
"Milady, you need to get away from this area," Krellin shouted into Zarina's ears to be heard over the roar of the cannons. "It's not safe here!"
"Apply pressure here," the healer commanded to Zarina as the young vampiress wrapped the cloth around the fledgling's wound.
"My lady-"
Zarina turned to face Krellin, her usually pale face flushed, hands covered in black blood. "I heard you the first time. I have to oversee the defenses and help the wounded! Can you walk?" Krellin realized she had directed the question to the fledgling that nodded weakly. With the vampiress helping him, the two made their way down to the courtyard below where the other wounded were being laid out.
A particularly loud crash made the massive eastern walls of the Cathedral shake, jarring the archers and sending a few over the edge or making their shots go wild. Zarina and Krellin looked through one of the slits to the ground below and found the reason to the quaking. Two rows of Sarafan foot soldiers, under the cover of their shields, were pounding the Cathedral's gates with massive battering rams. Just across the moat stood the archers for the humans, raining down their own deadly missiles and beyond them siege towers were being lined up, ready to be filled by the zealous vampire hunters. Zarina could make out the rest of the army, a long line of white stretching in the darkness. She had not expected a third army to come in from along the river; it had been inconceivable. Hoping against hope that the scouts had reached Zephon to tell him of their plight, Zarina turned to look at Krellin.
"What should we do?" Krellin's voice had a strong undercurrent of fear, his red eyes wide. Zarina grabbed his claw as he tried to rise from their hiding position, pulling him back down beside her.
"Get the hot oil and tar and we'll pour it over them at the gates. It should hold them off for a while! Be careful, Krellin. Go." The officer nodded and scurried down the battlements as the Clan could do. At least, Zarina reflected, the walls had not been breached. We could hold out for a bit longer, at least until the Sarafan bring in the siege towers.
Crouching low to the battlements, Zarina moved along the line of archers, grabbing new arrows for them that had come over with the Sarafan, telling the wounded to hold on just a bit longer until the healers could come and holding the vampires that would soon die, comforting them in their last moments. She could see Krellin directing a group of servants and vampires holding the vast pots of bubbling oil over to the gates; with a strength born of determination, the large pots were tipped over, the hot liquid splashing over the Sarafan.
Horrible screams filled the air, along with the smell of charred flesh; things that Zarina hoped to never hear again. The Zephoniem vampires cheered as they saw the hunters flee back across the bridge; spears were thrown into the backs of the humans and arrows hissed through the night sky to find their targets. The siege towers were now being pulled towards the Cathedral, foot soldiers running alongside the constructions of war with their cursed battle cries ringing through the air. In the higher levels of the Clan's holdings, the cannons roared out again and managed to bring down two of the towers.
On the west side of the Cathedral, it was not going as well. Most of the Zephoniem archers had been killed by the magic of the Sarafan's magi, the high walls indented with the rocks being catapulted at it. Pieces of vampire bodies lay strewn about the walkways and more than once Zarina had to push through a pile of the corpses. Her eyes were running from the smoke in the air, her nose was assailed by the smells wafting up over the battlegrounds, and her clothing and hair was matted with dried blood. With her appearance, Zarina was nearly killed by a group of adult vampires taking recess behind the ramparts who mistook her as a devil.
"Who's in charge here?"
"No one, sorceress. A bolt of lightning killed our sergeant and then they sent over a rain of fire upon us! We're all that remains of the original defense here," a burly vampire said, scars crossing his pale face.
"Do you still have any arrows or spears left," Zarina peered behind the destroyed rampart at the four iron catapults and the two straight lines of Sarafan wizards looking back at them.
"Only forty arrows lefts and about twenty spears."
"That will be good enough, sir. Would you be able to cover me as I prepare a spell?" The vampires nodded, arming themselves with the last of their weapons. Zarina closed her eyes and brought her hands together as if praying. Blue light began to seep through her fingers and sparks of energy danced along the backs of her hands. Opening them, a tiny orb floated just above Zarina's palms. She nodded to the burly vampire.
"Fire," he yelled, rising from his hiding spot and throwing his spear towards the sorcerers. The other vampires moved in perfect unison, arrows creating a small and deadly cloud of black as they managed to hit the mages or crews manning the catapults. Zarina took the small ball of eldritch energy and tossed it into the center of the catapults; an almighty explosion followed with dirt being thrown into the air. As the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the iron machines save a few twisted piece of metal and nothing of the sorcerers.
"That was excellent," a vampire slapped Zarina on her back. He realized the gravity of his mistake, but Zarina motioned him away. She was tired, spent from condensing so much magic at once. But the west side would now hold; already she could see reinforcements coming from the courtyard and the higher towers. They would be able to hold the Cathedral until Zephon returned, Zarina was sure of it.
"Lord Zephon and his army approaches," Krellin yelled, pointing towards the canyons. Zarina gazed toward the ravines and saw a swift moving line racing across the wide fields. In a moment of unlady-like behavior, Zarina gave a loud whop of joy that startled a fledgling next to her. They could win yet.
* * *
"Ride! Kill them all; none are to be spared," Zephon shouted over the din of battle. His army had come upon the backs of the Sarafan so quickly that the humans could only stare in surprise as their well ordered lines collapsed about them. Snarling faces, pale and drenched in blood, leered at them through a haze of smoke. The siege towers had been set aflame by a small group led by Siglar, and Oscot had managed to grab the cavalry in a pincher move; the Sarafan cries and pleas for mercy went unheard as they were torn down.
Zephon's own blade was slick with blood and more covered his armour and face. Wherever the thickest fighting lay, he was there. More than enough heads rolled on the ground because of him. Zephon carved a blood path towards the Cathedral with his bodyguard, hacking at anyone that stood in their way. There was only one problem that plagued him.
Where was the Sarafan commander?
Giving a very brief glance towards his palace, Zephon saw that it remained unbreached if damaged somewhat. Turning his horse around and making the animal rear into the air, a Sarafan knight fell beneath the animal's hooves. Zephon left the human to be killed by his bodyguards as he kicked the horse to move faster, climbing up a hill awash in blood. The humans looked ready to break; if their leader was killed them they would all fold easily enough. For a brief moment there was a lull in the battle and the Clan leader's piercing gaze finally fell on the commander.
Clad in golden armour, those damned runes of protection ablaze, the commander rode alone with his bodyguard unit either destroyed or left behind. The commander turned his head to look at the position of his own troops and found Zephon staring back at him. Even with the distance separating them, the hate between the two commanders was palpable. Raising his sword, Zephon charged down the hill at the Sarafan leader.
Both of their blades clashed with such strength that a resounding crack could be heard. A fracture appeared in Zephon's blade, but he could also see another in the Sarafan's. They both disengaged at the same moment and brought their horses about for another pass. Zephon came in with a low sweep aimed for the Sarafan's throat but was blocked once again by the damned human. Another crack appeared in the vampire's blade.
"Have the decency to die," the commander hissed as the two came face to face. Zephon pressed forward with his blade; the resistance of the vampire hunter was beginning to crumble. Another fracture appeared in Zephon's blade, but an even larger one made itself noticeable in the Sarafan's.
"You cannot hope to win. I am your death, and this battlefield will be your grave." Both disengaged and came around for one more pass. Even before the sword had found its mark, Zephon knew that the arrogant human was dead. Both blades struck once more, the two warriors wrestled, but Zephon's blade went true to its mark while the Sarafan's shattered. The vampire lord's cutting blade pierced through the armour and entered into the human's heart, killing him instantly. Zephon would of laughed out loud as the Sarafan leader's body fell to the ground, but an agonizing pain caused him to scream out.
The Lieutenant looked down and saw the broken edge of the Sarafan's blade embedded in his chest. Black blood oozed out from his armour and Zephon felt himself feeling dizzy and light headed. Pain coursed through him as he touched the broken blade. Zephon felt the world tilting beneath him, his grip on the reins becoming unsteady.
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the gates to the Cathedral being opened and Zarina, along with Krellin and Natarek, running towards him.
"Milady, you need to get away from this area," Krellin shouted into Zarina's ears to be heard over the roar of the cannons. "It's not safe here!"
"Apply pressure here," the healer commanded to Zarina as the young vampiress wrapped the cloth around the fledgling's wound.
"My lady-"
Zarina turned to face Krellin, her usually pale face flushed, hands covered in black blood. "I heard you the first time. I have to oversee the defenses and help the wounded! Can you walk?" Krellin realized she had directed the question to the fledgling that nodded weakly. With the vampiress helping him, the two made their way down to the courtyard below where the other wounded were being laid out.
A particularly loud crash made the massive eastern walls of the Cathedral shake, jarring the archers and sending a few over the edge or making their shots go wild. Zarina and Krellin looked through one of the slits to the ground below and found the reason to the quaking. Two rows of Sarafan foot soldiers, under the cover of their shields, were pounding the Cathedral's gates with massive battering rams. Just across the moat stood the archers for the humans, raining down their own deadly missiles and beyond them siege towers were being lined up, ready to be filled by the zealous vampire hunters. Zarina could make out the rest of the army, a long line of white stretching in the darkness. She had not expected a third army to come in from along the river; it had been inconceivable. Hoping against hope that the scouts had reached Zephon to tell him of their plight, Zarina turned to look at Krellin.
"What should we do?" Krellin's voice had a strong undercurrent of fear, his red eyes wide. Zarina grabbed his claw as he tried to rise from their hiding position, pulling him back down beside her.
"Get the hot oil and tar and we'll pour it over them at the gates. It should hold them off for a while! Be careful, Krellin. Go." The officer nodded and scurried down the battlements as the Clan could do. At least, Zarina reflected, the walls had not been breached. We could hold out for a bit longer, at least until the Sarafan bring in the siege towers.
Crouching low to the battlements, Zarina moved along the line of archers, grabbing new arrows for them that had come over with the Sarafan, telling the wounded to hold on just a bit longer until the healers could come and holding the vampires that would soon die, comforting them in their last moments. She could see Krellin directing a group of servants and vampires holding the vast pots of bubbling oil over to the gates; with a strength born of determination, the large pots were tipped over, the hot liquid splashing over the Sarafan.
Horrible screams filled the air, along with the smell of charred flesh; things that Zarina hoped to never hear again. The Zephoniem vampires cheered as they saw the hunters flee back across the bridge; spears were thrown into the backs of the humans and arrows hissed through the night sky to find their targets. The siege towers were now being pulled towards the Cathedral, foot soldiers running alongside the constructions of war with their cursed battle cries ringing through the air. In the higher levels of the Clan's holdings, the cannons roared out again and managed to bring down two of the towers.
On the west side of the Cathedral, it was not going as well. Most of the Zephoniem archers had been killed by the magic of the Sarafan's magi, the high walls indented with the rocks being catapulted at it. Pieces of vampire bodies lay strewn about the walkways and more than once Zarina had to push through a pile of the corpses. Her eyes were running from the smoke in the air, her nose was assailed by the smells wafting up over the battlegrounds, and her clothing and hair was matted with dried blood. With her appearance, Zarina was nearly killed by a group of adult vampires taking recess behind the ramparts who mistook her as a devil.
"Who's in charge here?"
"No one, sorceress. A bolt of lightning killed our sergeant and then they sent over a rain of fire upon us! We're all that remains of the original defense here," a burly vampire said, scars crossing his pale face.
"Do you still have any arrows or spears left," Zarina peered behind the destroyed rampart at the four iron catapults and the two straight lines of Sarafan wizards looking back at them.
"Only forty arrows lefts and about twenty spears."
"That will be good enough, sir. Would you be able to cover me as I prepare a spell?" The vampires nodded, arming themselves with the last of their weapons. Zarina closed her eyes and brought her hands together as if praying. Blue light began to seep through her fingers and sparks of energy danced along the backs of her hands. Opening them, a tiny orb floated just above Zarina's palms. She nodded to the burly vampire.
"Fire," he yelled, rising from his hiding spot and throwing his spear towards the sorcerers. The other vampires moved in perfect unison, arrows creating a small and deadly cloud of black as they managed to hit the mages or crews manning the catapults. Zarina took the small ball of eldritch energy and tossed it into the center of the catapults; an almighty explosion followed with dirt being thrown into the air. As the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the iron machines save a few twisted piece of metal and nothing of the sorcerers.
"That was excellent," a vampire slapped Zarina on her back. He realized the gravity of his mistake, but Zarina motioned him away. She was tired, spent from condensing so much magic at once. But the west side would now hold; already she could see reinforcements coming from the courtyard and the higher towers. They would be able to hold the Cathedral until Zephon returned, Zarina was sure of it.
"Lord Zephon and his army approaches," Krellin yelled, pointing towards the canyons. Zarina gazed toward the ravines and saw a swift moving line racing across the wide fields. In a moment of unlady-like behavior, Zarina gave a loud whop of joy that startled a fledgling next to her. They could win yet.
* * *
"Ride! Kill them all; none are to be spared," Zephon shouted over the din of battle. His army had come upon the backs of the Sarafan so quickly that the humans could only stare in surprise as their well ordered lines collapsed about them. Snarling faces, pale and drenched in blood, leered at them through a haze of smoke. The siege towers had been set aflame by a small group led by Siglar, and Oscot had managed to grab the cavalry in a pincher move; the Sarafan cries and pleas for mercy went unheard as they were torn down.
Zephon's own blade was slick with blood and more covered his armour and face. Wherever the thickest fighting lay, he was there. More than enough heads rolled on the ground because of him. Zephon carved a blood path towards the Cathedral with his bodyguard, hacking at anyone that stood in their way. There was only one problem that plagued him.
Where was the Sarafan commander?
Giving a very brief glance towards his palace, Zephon saw that it remained unbreached if damaged somewhat. Turning his horse around and making the animal rear into the air, a Sarafan knight fell beneath the animal's hooves. Zephon left the human to be killed by his bodyguards as he kicked the horse to move faster, climbing up a hill awash in blood. The humans looked ready to break; if their leader was killed them they would all fold easily enough. For a brief moment there was a lull in the battle and the Clan leader's piercing gaze finally fell on the commander.
Clad in golden armour, those damned runes of protection ablaze, the commander rode alone with his bodyguard unit either destroyed or left behind. The commander turned his head to look at the position of his own troops and found Zephon staring back at him. Even with the distance separating them, the hate between the two commanders was palpable. Raising his sword, Zephon charged down the hill at the Sarafan leader.
Both of their blades clashed with such strength that a resounding crack could be heard. A fracture appeared in Zephon's blade, but he could also see another in the Sarafan's. They both disengaged at the same moment and brought their horses about for another pass. Zephon came in with a low sweep aimed for the Sarafan's throat but was blocked once again by the damned human. Another crack appeared in the vampire's blade.
"Have the decency to die," the commander hissed as the two came face to face. Zephon pressed forward with his blade; the resistance of the vampire hunter was beginning to crumble. Another fracture appeared in Zephon's blade, but an even larger one made itself noticeable in the Sarafan's.
"You cannot hope to win. I am your death, and this battlefield will be your grave." Both disengaged and came around for one more pass. Even before the sword had found its mark, Zephon knew that the arrogant human was dead. Both blades struck once more, the two warriors wrestled, but Zephon's blade went true to its mark while the Sarafan's shattered. The vampire lord's cutting blade pierced through the armour and entered into the human's heart, killing him instantly. Zephon would of laughed out loud as the Sarafan leader's body fell to the ground, but an agonizing pain caused him to scream out.
The Lieutenant looked down and saw the broken edge of the Sarafan's blade embedded in his chest. Black blood oozed out from his armour and Zephon felt himself feeling dizzy and light headed. Pain coursed through him as he touched the broken blade. Zephon felt the world tilting beneath him, his grip on the reins becoming unsteady.
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the gates to the Cathedral being opened and Zarina, along with Krellin and Natarek, running towards him.