One and All

It was an uncomfortably familiar feeling that washed over me, standing watch on the elevated walls of that fortress. Despite the age of the structure, much of it still held steady and firm, much of the faded wood still unblemished by the passage of time. What little bits of rot had formed in the wood appeared almost frozen solid, reinforced by the frost encroaching on it like a parasite. Small openings were periodically spread out among edges of the walkways, each topped with a single torch and only just large enough for a single person to look through, or fire an arrow at advancing invaders. I'd been positioned on similar fortresses many times early in my service as Warden, and during my brief tenure with Blackstone. That it reminded me so clearly of such days unsettled me in ways I couldn't quite understand.

Atop the wall itself was a small team of rangers, three locked in place beside the openings with weapons ready, arrows held tight. Two others, Berrat being one of them, patrolled the remainder of the wall, watching the surrounding tree line from every angle they could. Just behind the gate were twelve of my Iron Legion, separated into two rows of six and standing at the ready on horseback, ready to charge if the gates were to open. Beside the second row was what remained of the militia, five spear and shield toting souls on the right, and six on the left. Despite their efforts to appear uniform, their discomfort was plainly visible, between the clattering of their weapons and constant shifting of their heads, watching for a threat that they knew was coming. I understood their fear, and my heart ached for them. As did much of the rest of my body. Only a single scout group, one cavalryman and one ranger, had ventured beyond the wood, and there were still no signs of them.

In an attempt to keep my mind off the growing discomfort, I gently pulled Deborah's knife from its sheath at my side, and looked down to inspect it more closely. It was an interesting thing, to put it plainly. It had clearly begun as a simple cooking utensil, I could tell from its meager length, only slightly longer than half a foot. Despite this, I could still see the works of a blacksmith tuned to war. The once vibrant oak handle had been modified for a better, sturdier grip, and two small circular pieces of steel had been added to act as a pommel and as a cross guard. The blade itself was single edged, and well cared for, coming to a fiendishly sharp point. The entire construction seemed a strange, yet effective mixing of cooking knife and rondel dagger. Turning it over in my hands, I wondered if it had been her father that had commissioned such changes to the weapon, or Deborah herself.

Even amidst the growing chill of evening air, and the lingering aches of my body, I could not help but be enraptured by the blade. How many times had Deborah been forced to use the weapon? Had she ever taken a life of her own volition with it? Had this knife been given to her before her father's murder, or had she taken it after his passing? I suppose it made little difference, at the moment. She had entrusted it to me in an hour of great danger, it was a sign of her affection, and her trust. A gift of that magnitude was no small thing, and just staring at it was enough to remind me of the intensity of what we had said to one another.

"Good to see you up and about, brother." I suddenly heard from the right. Looking towards the well worn steps leading up to the wall, I could see Stone gingerly making his way up towards me. For a moment I considered hiding the knife. I had never been romantically involved before, and it felt like a private matter, not the sort of thing to be presented in a boisterous manner. I was also in no mood for Stone's taunting, however good in spirit it may have been. Still, if this were to proceed as I expected, and even hoped, Stone knowing would certainly be inevitable. So, I turned to acknowledge my friend, making no move to either hide, nor flaunt the weapon.

"If I am to lead, then I will do so from the front." I said in response to him. Stone simply nodded as he skipped the final step, more leaping onto the crosswalk than stepping. There was a calmness, a serenity to him even in the face of what was coming. Part of me wondered if he was genuinely at ease, or if he was simply acting as unworried for the sake of the others. Either way, I was grateful for it.

"Sign of a good warlord, that is." He said approvingly, steadily coming to a halt in front of me. Almost immediately his attention turned to the knife, and his demeanor seemed to shift.

"Oh? What do you have there, brother?" He asked in a half inquisitive, half mocking tone. I looked towards the knife briefly, brief flashes of Deborah granting it to me playing over in my mind.

"This is Deborah's knife." I admitted quickly, looking back towards Stone and carefully placing the knife in its sheath at my side. My friend crossed his arms and feigned surprise, though it was clear to all that it was far from genuine. I was already regretting my decision not to hide this from him.

"I see! So you're saying that the paranoid bard, who never seems to trust anyone, gave you her only means of protecting herself?" He asked. I could tell immediately what Stone was implying, though I suppose I had known ever since that first march back to Herongale, so many weeks ago. I suspected he was taking great pleasure in this, despite, or perhaps because of how uncomfortable I felt.

"She has entrusted it to me, yes. Until I can return to her at the battle's end." I confirmed my tone quiet and admittedly strained to sound more assured than I felt. Stone nodded and stood idle for a moment, faking contemplation. I had seen him do such a thing a number of times before, and was well aware of what was coming. Bracing myself, I winced a bit as his heavy hand suddenly slammed onto my shoulder, releasing a wave of dull discomfort throughout my arm.

"Well good for you two! I'm sure you'll be happy as can be together!" He said, half joking as the pain subsided. A sigh escaped my lips as I tried to keep my composure, amidst Stone laughing. I suspect he saw me as sufficiently embarrassed after this, for he dropped the mocking attitude, and shifted once more, speaking more gently this time.

"In all seriousness, brother, I am happy for you. You've needed someone for a long time, and she seems like a good fit for you." A strange sensation bloomed in my chest as he affirmed my choice. I had been worried he would call it too hasty, unwise. I had only known Deborah for a number of weeks, a month at the most. Knowing that Stone approved was… something of a boon, for me. Still, I knew the road ahead was long, and to walk it, we would first need to overcome Blackstone.

"Let's save any congratulations for the time being, first we must survive this assault." I said, forcing myself to focus on the coming battle. Stone nodded, then seemed to look behind me as I came to notice soft footsteps from that direction. In an instant he seemed to tense, pulling away from me and retrieving his weapon, holding it tightly. Unsure of who would cause such a reaction, I turned slowly towards the steps, keeping my weapon ready if needed. Instead of a threat, however, I came face to face with Elder Kharion, a strange mix of contempt and acceptance written across his features. His eyes seemed dull, heavy bags underneath indications of some level of exhaustion, even amidst a well presented, and clearly well kept uniform.

"Elder Kharion." I said politely, hoping to God this conversation could be kept civil. The Elder seemed to inspect me for a moment, his expression unobstructed as his hood remained unused. More than contempt, I realized there was a quiet accusation in his eyes, something I had become all too familiar with. After a moment, he inhaled and nodded to me, though I could still see him making an effort to hide his frustration.

"Warden, I see you have made something of a recovery." He half muttered. I could not tell from his voice whether this further frustrated or relieved him, if not some combination of the two. I only hoped he had not come here to cement further aggression, now was hardly the time for a divided force.

"As much as I could manage, yes. Enough to fight, at the very least." I confirmed. Behind me, I could hear the chain of Stone's weapon rattle gently, as though it were a warning. Even without seeing, I knew he had not let go of the weapon, but he was standing at the ready. Though I doubted the need, I was grateful for his silent support all the same. Kharion seemed to realize Stone's intentions as well, glaring past me as he narrowed his eyes at him. For a time, he said nothing, surely formulating his thoughts. I found myself eager to grab my sword handle as my heart began to race, but fought against the urge even as my grip on the weapon tightened. Any sign of hostility could be catastrophic, and had to be avoided at all costs. Even if he did attack, I would have to disarm him, to raise any lethal aggression against him would likely be the last mistake I made, even should I be in the right. Finally, Kharion spoke again.

"Just as well then, I merely hoped to tell you that I am still unconvinced of your purpose here. It is all too convenient for me, gaining a sizable force from the very enemy we face." I knew immediately what he was talking about, Obadia and his men. In a way, I could understand his reservations. Only days ago they had been riding against his men, and only my confirmed survival had convinced them to stand against the tide. Still, had they not bled beside them in the field of battle? Had they not died fighting their former brothers and sisters? Had they not proven their loyalty? What more could Kharion possibly ask for?

"I can offer you only the slain and absent members of my legion as proof of our sincerity. Seven dead or missing, confirmed even among your own. If that is not enough, I am unsure of what more I could give you." I said.

"And nothing you could do would be enough to convince me, Warden. You are tied to the men that took my father from me, from Herongale." He hissed. I could sense the fire in Stone as the chain fully rattled, and I knew it had been loosed. Not now, I thought, this would only further drive him away. Holding my free hand open, I held Stone at my side, watching Kharion closely for his reaction. Again he turned a hateful eye towards my friend, and for a moment I felt my own feelings of anger rise, wanting to stand up for my brother. But now was not the time.

"I turned away from those men many years ago. I beg of you, please understand that. This is not the time for strife, Elder." I argued. Kharion took a step back and inhaled deeply, though I worried my words had fallen on deaf ears. Even now he seemed barely contained, as though one wrong word would set him on a warpath, one based solely on me. That break never came, thank the Creator.

"And it will not be, Warden." He said, calmer, more subdued than before. I lowered my hand cautiously from my side, and was relieved to hear the chain jerking once more. Stone seemed to have relaxed, if only slightly. Kharion stepped back towards me, the resentment slowly disappearing from his features as he spoke again.

"Even if I am uncertain, I understand that Captain Berrat and his Rangers have sworn their loyalties to you, and your Bard has captured the hearts of my people. I trust Berrat, and I am sworn as Elder to my people. For their sake, I will put aside my suspicions for the time being." He began. Those words should have been the knife that cut the tension in two, and eased my worries. Instead, the discomfort in the air only seemed to intensify as he took a step closer, no indication of withdrawal or uncertainty in his eyes. I did not step back to give him room, and he did not stop, coming mere inches from my face as he continued.

"But make no mistake, you are not wanted here. Once this is over, you and yours will leave this place. And you will not return." He declared. There was no compromise in his voice, none in his stance, and none in his eyes. This was not up for negotiation, I could tell that in an instant. Though the idea of abandoning everyone here made me sick to my stomach, I could not stand against him. As Elder, these people were his responsibility. If there were no danger to them, my will could not supersede his own, lest I violate the oaths I held so dear, So, hesitant as I was, I relented.

"As you wish, Elder. We will leave when the fight is done." I asserted. Kharion looked at me a moment longer before nodding, then slowly turned his back on me. I watched him go as he took the longbow from his back, and carefully took an arrow from the quiver at his waist. Berrat the second patrolling ranger seemed to stare at him. To my dismay, there was not a hint of respect in either of their eyes as he came beside them. I worried for Herongale's future, if their feelings were shared amongst all of the hamlet.

"Why do we continue to placate that man? He's been nothing but trouble ever since his father died." Stone grumbled as I turned back towards the tree line. Still no sign of Blackstone.

"The eye of the storm is hardly the place to cast aside one's oars, Stone. We need all the help we can muster." I said to him, seeing him stand beside me out of the corner of my eye.

"Besides, there's a good man in there somewhere." I added, almost absestmindesly as I looked back towards him. Lit only by the torchlight, the man scowled as he observed the tree line, watching it closely.

"He did save Deborah's life, after all." I muttered under my breath. I recalled our arrival, being worried over her state when I'd learned what happened. Kharion had been quick to reassure me that she was okay, and I dreaded imagining what might have happened if he had not been there. If nothing else, he deserved my gratitude for that. Beside me, Stone sighed as he took in my words.

"Well let's just hope that good man shows up sooner rather than later." He joked. I could agree with his sentiment.

We said nothing to each other for some time, instead focusing on the distant canopy of lumber and ice, the sky clear save for a scant few remaining stars. Those few did little to illuminate the battle field, the still snow having long since stopped sparkling in the small patches within the light. Beyond the thicket of brown and green was pure shadow, not a single source of light or movement coming from within, and save for the soft whistling of the wind, not a sound. Only the low whines of anxious horses and the occasional uneasy jest from the cavalry or militia broke the near maddening silence. I know not how much time passed, watching, waiting. For all I know, it could have been as little as a few minutes, or as great as several hours.

Inside the fortress was perhaps even more deathly quiet than the wall. What was normally bustling with the constant activity of Herongale's people had become completely abandoned at first glance. Every pathway had been cleared, every piece of land deserted as the residents of Herongale hid away in the side rooms. Looking back, I saw that even the cabin, once so central a fixture of the construction, had gone completely and utterly dark, shades drawn with nary a hint of light escaping their clutches. This mass emptiness, save for the companionship of my fellow warriors, drove a weight into the deepest regions of my heart.

Turning back to the walls and the seemingly inescapable vision of trees, I rested a hand on the top of the wall, using it to steady my aching, and still sore legs. At first, I saw nothing that I had not already. Then, slowly, I came to realize a shifting in the shadows, a shape appearing and disappearing at regular intervals in the distance. Further beyond, I realized that the darkness almost seemed to intensify, pulling in the surrounding dark as if to empower itself. This encroaching shade seemed to magnify in size as the vanishing blot appeared closer and closer, overtaking startling amounts of ground as it spread. I had seen such masses before, and it was no ordinary darkness.

"They are coming." I said aloud. Beside me, I could see Stone turn, pulling his weapon up as he readied himself.

"Already?" He asked, sounding more incredulous than he did concerned. I did not respond to him and pushed myself off the wall, quickly marching towards the right, moving as quickly as I could towards Berrat. The man had clearly seen something as well, his bow had been half drawn, and he stood poised to raise his weapon and fire.

"Berrat!" I called, marching beside him. Without turning, he nodded and said;

"I see it too, the approaching dark. No small thing could cast a shadow that large." Looking to the rangers beside him, I could see they were on high alert as well.

"Tell your rangers to ready their weapons, they will be upon us before long." I said. Berrat nodded again and breathed deeply, no doubt trying to calm his nerves.

"We will give them a proper welcome, don't you worry. Rangers!" He yelled. All at once, the sound of several bowstrings being pulled to their maximum draw could be heard, and the call had not gone unnoticed below us. The shifting and clattering of spears, swords, and shields filled my ears, accompanied by the startled muttering of several warriors. It was time…

"Warriors of the Iron Legion! Soldiers of Herongale!" I shouted, moving towards the center of the gate. Below me, militia and cavalry alike looked on high, their attention slowly turning solely to me, until I stood front and center before them, every eye focused. I knew I needed to rally them, inspire them to stand strong. I only hoped I could rise to the task…

"Heed me, warriors one and all! Blackstone marches on us this very night! They come to slaughter and maim, to subjugate and to burn! They see you and our people as no more than cattle! Sheep to do with as they please!" I began, clenching a fist as I paced back and forth, doing what I could to look every man and woman in the eye. Some appeared scared, others infuriated at my words.

"But that is not what I see! I see brothers, sisters, fathers, sons, mothers and daughters, rising beyond what they were told! Rising to challenge these butchers, rising to stand for the ultimate truth! We are not their livestock to be herded and exterminated! We are not their toys to be cast aside and destroyed!" I continued, pointing at each soul as I paced, speaking not to a mass of warriors, but to each and every one of those assembled.

"They fear one day that they will lose all of Ashfeld. They fear one day they will be held to answer for breaking their oaths to the people of these lands! They fear one day they will be cast out, and be forced to pay the price for their bloodshed, their crimes, their atrocities against Ashfeld, against God, against every soul on this Earth! Blackstone sees you as sheep, nothing more than cattle, but I see you for what you truly are, warriors one and all!" I yelled. Beside me, Stone had marched to my side, standing tall and proud as he held his shield at his side. I was grateful to have him as my second.

"I see you as the warriors who will bring about that day! The warriors who will free Ashfeld from the Blackstone Legion! So I bid you to stand with me! Stand, warriors of the Iron Legion! Stand, soldiers of Herongale! Stand, warriors of Ashfeld!" I pumped my fist in the air with every declaration, and could begin to hear the triumphant shouting of the men below, some banging their shields, others banging their weapons against the ground.

"For justice! For our people! For honor!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, thrusting my sword high into the air, and holding it as high as I could. Every soldier cheered as I threw my sword up, others raising their spears and swords as they called out, chanting as one voice;

"For justice! For our people! For honor!" They yelled. At that moment, I felt pride in every single one of them. Legion, villager, it mattered not. They were warriors, proper protectors, and I would be proud to fight by every single one of them. After I allowed them to to cheer for a time, I lowered my blade and turned back to the tree line. The vanishing blot of darkness was nearly upon us, with the rapidly growing wall closing the distance between itself and the other with frightening speed. Not much longer now…

"Nice speech, brother." I heard Stone say from beside me. I felt him lightly tap my arm with his shield, and I turned to face him.

"What's the call?" He asked. Stone stood ready for any command, one foot pointed towards me, the other towards the stairwell leading down. For a moment, I considered the next act. I knew that Blackstone outnumbered us, and from experience knew they had prepared archers. However, so too did I know Cross, and I knew that like me, he valued the lives of his soldiers. He would keep his archers in the tree line, out of sight of the rangers, who he'd know were better shots. But he didn't know about the traps laid by Berrat and the others.

"Start working on the gate, once the first of Blackstone's vanguard stumbles on the ice, we lead the cavalry in a charge to pick off their front guard, then retreat before they can recover. Cross won't risk hitting his own men with his volleys." I ordered, keeping a close eye on the approaching shape in the tree line. Stone nodded and gave me another tap on the shoulder.

"You got it, let's take that first step to the big day, right?" He joked before pivoting and making his way to the stairs. At this point, I could hear the approaching legion, the dull roar of their warriors as they marched towards us. Before long, I could see the vanishing shape break from the tree line, and saw that it was our scouts. An Iron Legion cavalrymen, with one of Berrat's rangers behind him, bow drawn and ready to fire on her pursuers. The Ranger had her back turned away from the fortress, and fired freely into the tree line behind her as the shouting and pounding grew ever louder… and the first of Blackstone's warriors poured out of the tree line.

"They are upon us, open fire!" I could hear Berrat shout, followed by the cracking of a released bow. Several arrows flew rapidly towards the approaching enemy, and even from a distance, I could see several of them striking true. Blackstone soldiers fell quickly as they tried to chase after our scouts, only to be cut down by the flurry of arrows. These were footsoldiers, with no sign of the rams among them. I was hardly surprised by this, I knew Cross would not risk such crucial equipment without a proper foothold.

It was not long before the Rangers had a steady stream of arrows firing at the tree line, periodically holding their fire and waiting for more soldiers to show themselves. Leaning forward, I tried to spot any sign of Cross himself, or Belial joining the vanguard. Despite my efforts, there was no sign of them, or any other soldier beyond the few that had led the charge m. Were they holding back inside the dense thickets, by the ram? If so, then now was the time to strive. Without the long reach of their pole axes, our cavalrymen would have the advantage against the approaching knights. As I had these first thoughts, I realized that the first wave of Blackstone's assault had begun in earnest. Shield bearing warriors quickly moved to relieve their fellows, spears in hand and ready as they moved slowly forward, unaware of the traps before them.

"They're moving towards the ice! Iron Legion, ready your charge!" I yelled as I turned away from the fight, quickly making my way down the steps. My heart was already pounding by the time I was halfway down the stairs, the sound of arrows still ringing in my ears alongside the distant shouts of battle. At the bottom of the stairwell, I could see a single rider making his way through the crowd of soldiers, a masterless horse by his side as he guided it by the reins. I recognized the rider immediately.

"Captain, are the men ready?" I shouted, catching myself as I nearly stumbled off the last step. Obadia came to a sudden stop as the horses heeded one of his commands, each of them stopping mere feet from me as he pivoted to face me. Even with the visor of his helm obscuring his face, I could sense the determination within my Captain.

"All twelve horses ready to charge on your order, my lord! Just say the word!" He said back as he led the masterless horse, who I now recognized as Lefer. Thirteen horses, including him. Without a moment's hesitation, I leaned close to Lefer's ear and whispered the command word Stone had told me, and Lefer dutifully whinnied as he lowered onto his knees, allowing me easy access. With haste, I mounted the horse and readied myself, fumbling slightly with the reins as I heard a victorious yell from atop the wall.

Looking up, I could see that several of the rangers had begun hollering and yelling, with only Berrat turning towards me.

"Warden! The enemy has fallen! Get out there before they can get back up!" He yelled. I nodded back at him before he could turn back around, then turned to the front of the gate. Stone was standing by, poised to open the gate with his weapons carefully placed on the ground beside him. This was it.

"Stone, now! Captain, you're with me!" I yelled, pointing from Stone to Obadia, then turning back to the gate as I urged Lefer onward. With a single whinny, Lefer spurred into action as I charged forward, the sound of hearing hooves two fold as Obadia fell in behind me. My ears were practically pounding as I rode past the militia, past the first line of the cavalry, the horses growing restless as the riders worked to keep them steady. As the gate began to creak with a high pitched whine, I looked behind me, taking one last look at my gathered companions before our battle truly began. More than twenty souls, some of them stamping eagerly as they awaited the call, others trembling as they battled their nerves and their fears. Each and every one of them was counting on me, looking to me to guide them. It was a terrible responsibility, but I would not fail them, not again.

"Warriors of Ashfeld!" I yelled as I held my sword aloft, turning back to the gate as it slowly began to grind open. Inch by inch the gate slowly parted. Seconds crawled by as the opening slowly expanded, until finally, it was just big enough for a horse to slip through. No turning back now, I thought. Taking as deep a breath as I could, I pointed my sword forward and yelled as loud as I could manage;

"FORWARD!" Determined and ferocious yells flooded the air as I spurred Lefer on, kept my breath as steady as I could make it…

…And charged.