Chapter 3: Battle of Helm's Deep
(updated 7/17/2005)
As the army of Uruk-Hai marched into the valley that fronted Helm's Deep, Faith was congratulating her returning rear guard units. Thankfully, all fifty Slayers were still alive, even if a few had serious looking cuts and gashes. Though the injuries looked serious, they were mere flesh wounds for a Slayer.
"Report, squad leaders!" barked the dark Slayer. She noticed that the surrounding Rohirrim were waiting to hear how the 'little girls' had done in battle. Boy, were they in for an eye opening experience.
"Aye, Faith," mock-saluted captain Jade. Her fellow squad captain and sister Slayer Cynthia stood by her side. "As ordered, both of our units engaged the enemy in a series of retreating ambush maneuvers, to provide the bulk of our forces time to prepare a defense here in the fortress. In that, our mission was completely successful."
"Totally!" agreed Cynthia. "We kicked some major demonic ass! Upon Jade's suggestion, the two squads made a series of piggy-back moves, the rear unit providing cover fire as the forward unit fell back and secured a new position. She's brilliant at the war maneuvers!"
"During each period of fire, our girls took down between three and five of the enemy. We did our best, but I'm afraid that a total of seven arrows were fired without killing the intended target. Luck was with us on two of those occasions, as the arrow was able to take out a second demon to the rear of the targeted one." Jade looked thoughtful for a minute. "Our final tally stands at three thousand, two hundred and fifty-seven demons killed."
"Don't forget about the additional forty-two who were killed by their fellow demons, before they realized that we were the ones firing arrows into their ranks," laughed Cynthia. "There was this totally awesome fight that broke out when one of those Uruks thought their own archers were firing off arrows. Besides the forty-two killed, they injured several hundred more before the fight was broken up."
"Were any of the injured killed by our girls?" Faith demanded.
"Of course not!" countered Jade. "Injured enemies helped to slow their march. We targeted only the fastest and strongest of those we faced. By my estimates, we eliminated roughly ten percent of the enemy."
Apparently, one of the Rohirrim was fairly good at math. "You expect us to believe that each of these little girls has already killed over sixty of Saruman's Uruk-Hai?" he asked. "And that between them, only five arrows fired failed to bring down an enemy?"
"Pathetic, isn't it?" agreed Faith. "I want every girl who fired one of the stray arrows to man the supply wagons for this engagement. And ladies, next time I instruct you to mount a rear guard, I'll expect to hear a much higher kill count! Do I make myself clear?"
"Five by five!" called out her troops.
Lord, how she loved hearing that from her Slayers!
"Ugly bastards, aren't they?" Faith turned to see the dwarf, Gimli, standing at her side. They were standing along the outer wall, watching as the demonic forces of Saruman began to form into nice orderly columns. He was able to see over the high wall, because the Slayers had erected a wooden platform all along, so that they could see over the edge… and so that they would have room to fire their arrows.
"You think they are ugly, you should see some of the nasties I have taken out back home. I'll admit, though, that back home they rarely gather in such a large force as this." She then grinned her evil grin. "On the other hand, my girls weren't around in our present numbers, either. This should be a fun little battle."
"Tell me, Slayer," began the elf, Legolas, "do your warriors keep score?" He and Gimli shared a glance. "Master Gimli and I have a wager, on which of us shall have the highest count."
"Are you kidding?" she asked in wonder. "Slayers always keep a count! How else to decide who is the best among us, if we failed to tally our kills? Tell me, green-eyes, do you weight your count by the strength of your enemies, or do all kills count equally?"
"We had not decided that as yet, since it will not matter for this battle. All below are Uruk-Hai."
"That is fine for now, but I have heard that ring-boy has other beasts under his dominion. The weaker ones called orcs, and larger beasties called trolls. I really want to fight one of these trolls!" Both elf and dwarf could see the flames of battle lust in her eyes. "Have you ever seen a troll?"
"Indeed, lass, we fought one such beast in the mines of Moira," informed Gimli. "Not only did out group manage to kill the troll, but we also faced a balrog!"
Faith began to tremble with battle lust. "You got to fight a balrog? Oh, I hope we get to fight a balrog before this war is over! Such a fine addition to my score a balrog would make!"
"You're a bit scary, you know that?" asked a fearful Legolas.
"On the contrary," she argued, "I'm a lot scary. Well, looks like it is time for me and mine to start this battle."
"The enemies are still outside of arrow range!" yelled Legolas.
"Your arrows, maybe, but not mine, elf. Slayers!" she called out to her forces. "The demons think they are safe where they stand. Let us show them that they should not underestimate a Chosen one! Open fire!"
At her command, all the Slayers along the wall began to fire upon the army below. Unlike the armies of man, they did not launch volleys to rain down on their foes. Each Slayer fired at her own pace, after carefully selecting a specific target. Faith herself was firing arrows almost as fast as an elf could manage, hitting targets at a greater distance than even one of the fair folk's bows could reach. Every single shaft that left her hand ended the life of a creature on the field below. Within minutes, there were gaping holes in the enemy lines.
And then the warrior women ran out of ammunition.
Turning to the interior of the fortress, Faith yelled out, "Ladies! Reload!" Even as she yelled, there was a group of her girls rushing up the stairs. Each bore a rather surprising number of arrows, bound in large bundles that they carried with ease despite their bulk. The Slayers along the walls started claiming sufficient arrows so as to refill their quivers, most grabbing additional handfuls of arrows and placing them in piles down at their feet. The men of Rohan were then amazed when the re-supply runners leapt off the wall and down to the ground below, landing as if they had fallen several feet instead of many yards.
"Well, what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?" Faith asked of her troops. "If you've been re-supplied, resume firing!" As the Slayers resumed their slaughter of Uruk-Hai, the enemy suddenly realized that if they stood there, they would die before taking the fortress. In a rather unorganized manner, they began to storm the walls. "Primary targets are anyone carrying a ladder or arming a siege weapon!" barked Faith.
"When they are in our range," called Legolas in the elven tongue, "begin firing at will! The Slayers are focusing on the ladder bearers and those operating the engines. Our targets will be the rest of the army! Focus on their archers, and keep the ladies from coming under counter fire!" The elven longbows sought out their Uruk-Hai counterparts, and made significant inroads to dropping their ranks.
Seeing both of their allies firing and slaying the enemy, it wasn't long before the Riders of Rohan began to open fire as well. Unlike their more skilled friends, the human archers assumed their standard practice for sieges, launching waves of arrows in unison. The elves and Slayers almost immediately modified their tactics, to exclude the area the humans were covering, so as to more fully cover the field of battle.
With such extensive firing, the Slayers soon exhausted their own supply of arrows. By that time, it looked like over half of the enemy had been laid low. The women began tossing their bows down to the re-supply squad, who took them back to their wagons for safe storage. Those on the wall without bows were quick to draw their scythes, and awaited the first siege ladders that rose without Slayer arrows to stop them.
"I've got thirty-five so far, green-eyes!" grinned Faith, standing with her scythe in hand. "How about you?"
"This one makes seventeen for me!" he said, frowning. Then he brightened up, "but poor Gimli has no one to kill!" he laughed.
As a ladder hit the wall before her, Faith flashed a glance at the dwarf. "I'm ahead of elf-boy on the bow. Care to compete with me in the axe, Gimli?"
"Ay! You are a lass after my own heart, girlie. Here they come!" roared the dwarf.
"Death to the dark ones!" bellowed Faith. "Death is our gift!"
"Death is our gift!" roared the Slayer forces.
The first Uruk-Hai to top the wall lost his head to Faith's scythe. The second had his head cleaved in by Gimli's axe. All along the wall, as ladders touched stone, Slayer blades began to spill black blood. One could almost feel sorry for the enemy, as they had no way to plan for the Slayers' inclusion in this battle. Not only were they failing to make a presence on the wall, they were beginning to run low on reserve forces.
"Faith!" yelled one of the Slayers she had watching the storm grate. "Faith! You were right! The demons are stacking some type of containers under the wall!"
"Shit!" she growled in response. "Gimli, you'll have to take my spot in addition to your own. I'm needed elsewhere. Let's go!" she ordered the Slayer. Dropping off the wall, the pair quickly made their way to the grate, where several large metal urns had been piled up on the opposite side. "Well, this can't be good. Go and get the re-supply troops. We need to get those containers out of there."
"Are we going over the wall?" queried the second grate watcher.
"Fuck that!" snapped Faith. "We're going to rip this grate out, remove the containers, and charge the enemy front! Help me break these bars loose!" The bars were thick, and made from strong iron, but the demon-forged steel of the scythes cut through them well enough. When the re-supply group arrived, most of the bars had been cleared out. "Girls, start carrying these urns out of the way!"
The strength of the Slayers quickly cleared the newly formed passageway. "Faith, I think this stuff is a primitive form of gunpowder!" exclaimed one of the girls.
"One way to be sure," Faith muttered, taking a pinch of the black powder and tossing it onto a nearby torch. The powder burst into flames, causing a brief flash and burst of noise. "Certainly looks like gunpowder to me. Take the urns and put them in one of the empty wagons. This stuff might be useful later on." She turned to face the remaining Slayers. "Start gathering our sisters, and inform our allies! We're going to charge the enemy lines!"
From the Slayers near enough to hear her words, cheers began to erupt. Finally, instead of firing arrows or holding a wall, they were going to fight the demonic forces in battle. Slayers soon began to flood down off of the battlements, gathering behind the tunnel to await the charge.
"We go!" ordered Faith, leading the charge outward. Immediately upon clearing the tunnel, she faced a charging demon carrying a strangely sparking torch. "Ain't gonna happen, bub!" she grunted as she lopped his hideous head off from his shoulders. "Death is our gift!" she cried once more.
"Death is our gift!" answered the Slayers.
From atop the battlements, it looked as if a river of death began to pour forth from the storm drain. As more and more Slayers raced through, the wave of dying Uruk-Hai spread like oil on the surface of a pond. In a battle such as this, the women were invincible. By the time the enemy had started battering down the gates, they had Slayers slaughtering them from behind their own lines.
When they had charged, there had been at least ten times their number still alive. While sustaining many small to moderate injuries, the Slayers laid waste to the army of Saruman. The women even formed a line to the rear of the monsters to prevent any from escaping. Such was the degree of their battle lust. Before too long, the horse lords mounted a charge into the killing fields, helping to mop up the survivors.
Long before dawn, the last of the enemy was struck low by the blade of a Slayer.
While the men celebrated, the Slayers were busy on the ground. Dead enemies were stripped of all weaponry and armor, which was then stacked in large piles of plunder. Arrows were salvaged for future use in later battles. The bodies were heaped into great rotting piles for later disposal, after each was beheaded to guarantee the kill. Very few were still living when that blow came.
"There you are, Faith!" called a slightly inebriated Gimli. "I managed a count of twenty-seven with my axe!" he crowed triumphantly. The overgrown tree squirrel is off sulking, since his final count was still two bodies shy of your tally on the bow!" He laughed in glee. "How did your axe fair, battle maiden?"
"I am no maiden, short stack," she growled, "and my scythe claimed thirty-nine of these ugly brutes. So, did you come down just to talk about our scores, or do you want to claim your share of the plunder?"
"You would use their weapons?"
"Well, probably not. These Uruk-Hai do not make the best blades. The steel is nice and strong, however, and we plan to melt it down to make our own weaponry. No sense in letting the stuff rust away."
"You Slayers are too focuses on the battle, lass. Take some time to celebrate!"
"Oh, we'll party down," she assured him, "just as soon as we finish taking care of the dead." As she gestured to the rapidly clearing battlefield, Gimli took his first real look at just what the ladies had accomplished. The majority of the bodies had already been stripped, beheaded, and stacked up into great piles. There were enough weapons and armor to outfit a large army, all nicely sorted and piled for later retrieval.
"How about I get some of the squirrels and men to help finish, and then we can have a grand feast in celebration?" asked the dwarf.
"Do it, and I just may have to find a way to thank you properly," she leered at him. "Tell me, master Gimli, are dwarves short and stout all over?" She laughed as the bearded one blushed like a bonfire. "You get the help, while I see about the feast."
"Cordelia!" called Faith. Almost immediately, the agent of the Valar appeared before her. Faith had moved to the far end of the valley, so that she might hold this conversation away from local eyes. "Hey Queen C! How's tricks?"
"Hello, Faith. Nice work here."
"You were watching?"
"A great many beings were watching this battle. Not many believed that you Slayers could make such an impact in this battle. Most were expecting the wizard to come rescue your butts in the morning. I heard your little talk with Gimli earlier, Faith. I took the liberty of having the Council prepare a little surprise for your girls. Just a token of our appreciation."
"Oh? What are we getting?"
"A party," Cordelia grinned in reply. "Buffy's loading several wagons with food and drink. Knowing you as I do, I had her load one entire wagon with kegs of beer and cases of liquor. Not the swill, either. Your girls deserve the good stuff."
"Fuck, Cordy! I love you!"
"Thanks for the sentiment, Faith, but I'm straight," laughed the emissary.
"A night with me would change that," smirked the Slayer, "but I suppose I can find another warm body to get my freak on with. When's the beer coming over?"
"It should be ready in an hour or two."
"Great. When you open the portal, can I send a wagon for two back through? I figure that the blacksmiths your bosses sent to the Council might like to melt this junk down and make some real weapons out of it."
"Let me check…" She vanished, only to return moments later. "The PTB will allow you to send the weapons back. Get some of the wagons loaded, and we'll do a swap once you're ready."
"This is going to be one killer of a party!" laughed the dark Slayer.
Two hours later, the Slayers had piled up all of their wagons with plundered weaponry and armor. Each wagon was fully loaded with steel, as most of what they had retrieved would be going to the Council and their demonic smiths. When Cordelia opened a portal at the far end of the valley, and equal number of wagons passed each other as they crossed realms. Food came out, while metal went in.
After the victory feast, the emptied wagons would be re-filled with the Slayers' supplies.
Despite the continuing rain, the riders of Rohan came out onto the cleared field to drink and eat with their female allies. Even the more reserved elves joined the celebration. Gimli was greatly impressed with the varieties of ale provided. The elves preferred the wines, and the men drank anything with alcohol in it.
Those Slayers who could play instruments and had them in their trunks pulled them out and started amateur bands. Where they played, dancing started. The Slayers, now freed of their armor in favor of tighter clothing, moved with the wild, savage grace their kind naturally possessed. For the males who dared to join them, the night became an endurance trial. Oddly enough, not a one of them complained about it.
When dawn's first light crested the horizon, the Slayers began rising from wherever they had settled for a night's sleep. Despite the drinking, dancing, and loving they had enjoyed after the battle, the ladies were fresh and alert when they rose. The ones who had been injured in the fight were already mostly healed. The one girl who had been grievously injured by an Uruk-Hai arrow was on the mend, and should be ready to travel in a day or two's time.
Faith had just finished getting dressed following her horizontal dance with Gimli when riders entered the valley. At the head of a large force of Rohirrim was an older man dressed all in white. This new force seemed shocked to find a celebration instead of a battle. Faith grabbed her scythe (even in casual clothes, few Slayers let their precious scythes get far from sight) and strode off to meet the man who just had to be Gandalf.
"Hey, Whitey!" she yelled. "You're late!"
"And who might you be, my dear?" asked a cautious wizard. From the look on his face, it was clear that Gandalf wasn't certain whether or not to trust this stranger.
"She is only the fiercest fighter I have ever had the pleasure of joining in battle!" exclaimed Gimli, coming up from behind her. "Faith and her warriors have gained us a victory! They fight like dwarves when they use those axes of theirs!"
"And like elves with their bows!" countered Legolas. "Placing the Slayers against Uruk-Hai is like an army of hobbits fighting ents! You should have seen them in combat, Gandalf! Faith, how many did you slay in last night's battle? Over seventy, I hear."
"It would have been more," she claimed, "except we ran out of demons to kill! Lucky for me, Gimli was here to help me burn off the rest of my restless energy." Once again, she caused the dwarf to blush crimson. "Great endurance in a dwarf, I must admit."
"My, my, master Gimli," teased Legolas. "Who would have thought it?"
"After the next battle, it's your turn, green-eyes," she teased the elf. "How else will I determine which of you is the best?" She laughed wickedly when both elf and dwarf began to blush. "You guys are too easy!"
"I must say, you are quite an interesting woman," Gandalf smiled down from upon his horse. "I welcome you, as a fellow defender against Sauron."
Faith eyed him up and down, a speculative look to her eyes. "You're a bit older than I usually like, but I could give you a test drive, Whitey. How does a wizard compare to elf or dwarf?" The riders surrounding them laughed with Legolas and Gimli. "Can I rock your world, wizard?" She stood in a sexually aggressive pose, challenging him to resist her charms.
"I fear you are too much woman for any man to handle, regardless of his race," he replied diplomatically.
"You got that right, gramps. So, would you and your boys like to come break fast with me and my girls?"
"I fear that our work is just beginning, my lady," countered Gandalf. "Our enemy will retaliate, and when he does he will strike quick and hard. We must make a trip to Isengard, for Saruman cannot be let free to cause further mischief. Then, we must make haste to Gondor, for it is the last defense against the hordes of Mordor."
"No rest for the wicked, huh?" replied Faith. "I'll start rounding up my girls, while you have a chat with Théoden king. Slayers! Get your shit together and prepare to march! Time to get back to work, ladies! And somebody make sure Éowyn joins our ranks!"
Faith marched off, leaving an amused and somewhat bewildered wizard behind.