Chapter IIX: The siege begins

War was coming to Bowerstone. The once a peaceful place, now a scene of panic. Frantic villagers hurriedly boarded up windows and locked all of their doors, as they urged their unmindful children to come into the little safety that their homes gave. Men and women ran hysterically to their homes tripping over themselves and each other. Thunder roamed the walls of the city giving commands to reinforce the gate, or light the braziers. Whatever needed to be done would be done. The city appeared impenetrable. Its walls were high and thick; only ladders could breach it, but even if this occurred almost a hundred swordsmen were ready to slice the opposition in two. Almost twice that many archers stood at the ready in discipline lines. Beside them lay a row of braziers to set their pitch-coated arrows aflame. "How long Thunder?" Lady Grey had left her manor to see to the defenses. Her petite dress whipped violently in the wind, and as always she kept a dainty yet in a way stern posture. Thunder let out an angered sigh, "M'lady you MUST stay at least within the gates of the north sector." The governess waved his comments away with a dainty gesture, "This is my city I will see to its defense. Now don't keep me waiting when will they be here?"

"They should be here soon, maybe within a few hours."

"That's not good enough. You haven't even started with the north gates reinforcement."

Thunder looked annoyed, "In good time m'lady." Lady Grey looked barely pleased, but stopped her inquiries.

A wide river acted as a moat on one side of the city, and over it ran a bridge almost twenty meters long. Thunder let out a cry to the men on the bridge, "READY BOYS?" Five barrels of explosives lay on the bridge. Lady Grey stepped forward astonished, "STOP IT!" Thunder wheeled around, "But m'lady. We can't let those tyrants cross the moat or-" "They will cross it anyway. We might as well make them cluster together on the bridge." Thunder shook his head but did not argue. He ordered the explosives to be removed. Lady Grey almost left, but asked one last question before leaving, "Are the others here yet?" Thunder looked down the river searching for a sign of their allies, but the horizon bore nothing but a sunrise.

Meanwhile…

Tarus and his men were assembled in their formations. It was turning out perfectly. The men were ready to fight, and finally they appeared disciplined enough to do so. A bandit ran down the path that led from Bowerstone. "M'lord," The spy spoke between gasps, "There are rangers everywhere throughout that forest… Half of us 'd be dead…before we got there." Tarus, the captain, and Cyloncrius all sat on horseback at the head of the army. They all looked at each other for ideas as to their passing through the forest ahead.

Tarus glared at the final stretch of woods as if it were an enemy. He then looked up as if he had an idea "Burn it." The king and the captain looked at him dumfounded, "How are we to get through m'lord?"

"The path is wide we will make it."

In moments a dozen or so men went about dousing some nearby trees with pitch. They then lit torches and prepared themselves to burn Greatwood forest. Tarus took hold of a torch also, and with one final glance at the woods, he flung it towards them. The others did the same. The forest began to burn at an astonishing rate. A loud roar preceded the destruction. Soon after, the flames spread like a wave as it plowed through the dry autumn trees. No one spoke. They only looked in a morose awe at the ancient forest was quickly burnt to the ground.

Tarus inhaled deeply. Now that the forest was aflame there would be no turning back. His eyes closed slowly. The roar of the flames grew distant as he reached for his blade. He was alone now. It was only he and the Sword of Aeons. He slowly grasped the hilt, and drew his sword. He took a short moment, and then came out of his trance at the sound of hundreds of swords being drawn. His eyes shown grander than the inferno before him. He was invincible now.

The three commanders dismounted their timid steeds. Tarus turned to face his army. Their eyes glared almost as fiercely as his. They were ready to fight. "KEEP MOVING," he shouted. That was his only speech to his men. The captain stepped forward and thrust his sword violently into the air as he yelled a bloodthirsty cry. The army did the same. Their faces were contorted into pure hate. They beat their chests and shouted in a mass flurry of crazed anger. Tarus was content. He rose his sword also he cried in rage, "DEATH!" with that, the demise of Bowerstone began. The entire army ran with ungodly speed into the blaze before them, thirsty for blood.

Thunder stood perched on the top of the wall awaiting his adversaries, when he suddenly had an uneasy feeling. A frenzy of birds dashed out of the woods, followed by an odd silence. Then the horror began. A few men scurried out of the forest bathed in flames. They flailed about in sheer madness until they finally fell to the ground. The army grew restless. Murmurs filled the ranks, but besides that no sound was heard. Thunder urged their silence, but stopped abruptly. At the same moment they saw the smoke rising, they heard a peculiar roar in the distance. It grew louder, until finally they saw a glow emanating from the woods. The front of the forest burst into flames with a loud "WHOOSH". The men panicked. The oncoming force was more than expected.

The flames scorched Tarus, but he was mad with rage, the edge of the forest was near. Past that he could see a clearing, and then the bridge leading across over the fjord. He felt like taking on the town single handedly, for the power of his dark blade pumped its energy more furious than ever before. He let out another cry of rage, which was echoed by the other men. This was it.

As soon as he crossed the tree line a wave of arrows rained down upon the men. But the opposition would be responded to. A column of archers followed closely behind him. Their missiles flew by his ears, narrowly missing him, but Tarus maintained his stance. The arrows sped towards the wall. Dozens of men tumbled over the side, but the arrows continued to pour back. The sky was dark with arrows as the first stage of battle ensued. The archers of Bowerstone timidly launched off as many arrows as their quaking hands could. The sight of an army dashing out of a flaming wood scared them into thinking this army was not human. In addition, they kept coming. After the archers came out of the wood the group of ladder bearers burst out of the flames in shrieks of rage. Close behind them came the infantry. Men continued to drop dead on both sides. The oncoming waves of arrows ended lives at an increasing rate, but the victory tilted in Tarus' favor. The ladder bearers were not targeted at once thanks to their surprise entry, but the defending side soon realized the dilemma. The ladders were advancing across the bridge and would soon arrive at the wall. A few ladders fell, but the advance did not slow. Tarus could stand it no longer. He could not stand there as the others were getting all of the kills. He hurriedly grabbed a bow and quiver from a dead archer with an arrow in his gut. Tarus focused himself as he drew his first arrow. He began sending a well-aimed barrage of death to those on the wall. He released arrows quicker than any other could. One after one, the defenders of Bowerstone fell from Tarus' shots, all of which met their target between the eyes. He soon ran out of arrows, but just in time. The siege weaponry flew out of the forest. They smoked menacingly from small singes, but they were still loaded and ready to demolish the city. The catapults quickly gathered in a line. The captain ordered their attack. At his command twenty massive boulders hurled themselves into the air. They departed with a loud roar and slowly disappeared behind the wall. Tarus released a laugh of contentment as the barrage continued. He then looked to the wall. The ladders were up. He cried a yell of joy as he and the others ran to the wall. Now the real fight began.

Tarus lept high enough to reach the wall on his own, as he jumped onto the ladder. He readied his blade, for a moment before leaping onto the wall. Then he made the leap into an ocean of soldiers. He stood wide eyed for a few seconds as he observed the splendor of his war. The bandits had flown over the wall like a wave. He saw the battle rage on the other side of the wall. Tarus soon realized what he was doing and turned towards the cluster of enemies. When the pirates and bandits saw that look in his eye, they lept down to begin pillaging the town, knowing of the coming wrath of Tarus. He was upon the guards in an instant. His fury of the past endeavor flew forth with a mighty force of sheer malevolence. He swung his blade hard as he brought it down on the first man's skull. He then spun his sword in a wide arch, inflicting deep wounds on all of the fearful combatants. The wall was relatively narrow allowing only a couple of men to attack Tarus at once. Because of this men fell like rag dolls onto the ground; their life brought to an abrupt end. Tarus began moving across the wall, constantly hacking through the droves of men. His sword sunk into one guards chest and then spun while hewing down four more. The ground was covered in blood and decapitated bodies. The onslaught of Tarus was overwhelming, but the guards were pressing ever on. Tarus killed a few men on the wall, but after them no one else came. Behind the now fallen men, stood a row of pike men. As soon as Tarus realized what was happening, the guards ran forward with their spear wall pressing towards Tarus in an effort to skewer him and end this onslaught. Now that the guards were using new weapons, Tarus would have to do the same. He focused for a moment, building up all of his rage. His face contorted into a hellish glare, as the wall of spears drew within striking distance. He raised his fist high, and let out a blood lusting roar. He brought his arm down with an ungodly force, which rocked very stones out of the wall. An explosion of fire rose from the earth, with as much menace as Tarus. The spear wall was launched back, now merely scorched embers.

The wall, clear of men, Tarus lept down onto the real battlefield. Dust choked the air as it was stirred up by an army of warriors. Tarus walked through the battle, none daring to fight him, as he looked at the raging fury. Men were literally being chopped to pieces, splashes of blood occasionally flew into the air, and arrows could be seen pelting the fight. The dust cleared enough for Tarus to see the inner wall of the city. Archers also lined the wall, but what caught Tarus' eye most was the sight of a long lost acquaintance. Thunder was at the helm of the archers sending down his own barrage of arrows. Tarus and Thunder met glances for only a moment, but those few seconds were enough. Both heroes knew that their paths would cross soon.

The raid continued successfully. In a matter of minutes the last of the outer defenses had fallen. All that remained was the inner wall. The ground was littered with bodies. Hundreds of men lay strewn about, their blood drenched the earth. Death was in the air, the smell of blood was in everyone's nostrils. The smell was combined with the smoke of the forests that still burned with fury. The smoke was blowing into the air, which was becoming black. The archers on the wall still shot arrows in a small but steady barrage. No one was being hit, but was always on their guard. The three captains regrouped behind the cover of the remains of a house that had been hit by a catapult. None of the commanders had been harmed; except for Cyloncrius whose wounds were slowing him down. He panted ferociously as he groped at his neck. Tarus looked at him for a moment, "Cyloncrius. It is time for you to be of use. Give the guards a chance to surrender." The captain looked at Tarus in slight confusion. The guards would surely kill him. The bandit king stood for a moment, staring at the ground. He then stood up, and struck a proud stance. He straightened his armor, turned to the gate, and began a sad march to the gate.

It was a heartbreaking sight as the bandit king slowly marched to his death. He walked with glory, as a king. He would die with honor. The bandits watched in a painful stare as their beloved king walked. The captain was near tears also, but Tarus watched with a blank stare. Thunder stepped up to the center of the wall, with a furious look in his eye. Cyloncrius stopped his march and stood tall, "My lord wishes me to tell you…" The bandit king coughed a bit and winced in pain. His neck throbbed painfully, "We are graciously asking for your surrender." Thunder would not except his city to give up. He reached for a spear and held it above his head. Cyloncrius closed his eyes. The once simple journey that had filled him with anticipation was mutilated into a hell. He was ready for it to end. As the spear flew towards him he thought of Tarus. Cyloncrius now saw the evil within him. He did not want to see what Tarus would do to the world, what evils he would bring. The world would fall into evil, under his reign, and the king did not want to see that. The spear was coming ever closer, but Cyloncrius was ready for the end.

And so passes Cyloncrius, lord of the swine. I do hope that was sad enough. I'm not very good at charecter development so i wasn't sure if you felt for the bandit king. Please tell me what you think. I'd also like to honor Sir dik-dik the great for reviewing my stuff. COME ON GUYS I NEED SUPPORT!