-51-
The motive of their retreat had been fulfilled. The orcs had ceased their boulder-hurling tactic, and began marching closer when a horn rang. War cries erupted among the invaders, the beating of war drums providing a rhythm for it. Hunters and spearmen readied their bows and javelins respectively. The orcs were almost within range now…
The Prontera forces had made a smart move. Not only did they draw the orcs within range of those manning the walls, but fighting in their premises proved to be an advantage as the green beasts would eventually suffer the wrath of the sacred powers, provided that the monks from St Caprina did not fail holding back northern assaults, if there happened to be. And of course, the two warlords could see the fruits of their labour finally.
Those atop the walls did not hold back their awe when the powerful frame of Lord of Death could be distinguished in the distant. Among the sea of greens loomed a mounted silver knight, so bright as though he was blanketed in a holy aura. When the first line of orcs came forward, they suddenly broke into a run. Those behind followed, heading straight for the shut gate. The hunters waited no more. They unleashed a double strafe as a kick-start, before the stronger and thicker javelins rained on them.
The hunters swore when no more than ten orcs fell. The invaders cleverly tightened their ranks, bringing their shields up to cover themselves as much as possible. Very soon, a wall of shields was formed as the orcs crouched low. The arrows either bounced off the wall of shields harmlessly, or became imbedded into it. A few javelins managed to fly through gaps in the shield wall not protected by a few careless orcs, striking them dead.
Smith Hammertop immediately hollered to a Fiendbane standing just outside the workshop.
"Load 'em up and launch at will!"
The ninja-like warrior in turn yelled down the basement, and those below quickly dumped bottles into a pumper, which sent it through the pipes and eventually out of the launchers. They watched in anticipation as the walls seemed to come to life. The orcs did not realize what was going on, when dozens of red and yellow bottles flew out of the walls. The red bottles burst into flame when in contact with the first orc, spreading rapidly to immediate neighbours. The yellow ones damaged the armour of the orcs, even searing their hide as acid splattered over them. The orcs flustered, and another volley of bottles were ejected.
"Dump every damn thing fast as if you're taking one yourself!" the Fiendbanes yelled underground.
The front orcs stopped hacking away at the gate. Now, they had the dousing of flames, or stripping of their armour to busy themselves with. They certainly did not have it coming, and they were not prepared against this. The Lord of Death did not appear at all affected by it. He merely watched the walls as more bottles caused much confusion at the forefront. A considerable number of them writhed painfully on the ground as the fire consumed them whole. The acid bottles had made them vulnerable by reducing their armour to a shrunken piece of metal.
The bottle frenzy ended abruptly. Apparently their supply of the bottles had depleted, and Death wasted no time urging his forces to break open the gate. Making good use of the opportunity that the shield wall had been cancelled by the bottles, more orcs were felled from a barrage of arrows and javelins. The battle would in favour of Prontera until the orcs breached the west gate. The men inside the city yelled as more death cries from the orcs rang out clear.
"Fools… by the time the gate are opened, we would have lost gloriously!" Lord of Death roared.
The silver knight at the back pooled aside several groups of orcs in his way as he rode forward. Raising his head high, Death held up his large shimmering lance. He took an aim –and hurled the lance across the orc army. The orcs ducked involuntarily when it whizzed past their head, an unknown wave of power made them cower.
Death was truly a force to be reckoned with. The orcs had expected the lance to strike open the firmly secured gate, but results clearly sent them marvelling in awe. The lance went through the spot slightly above the gate, and it disintegrated into millions of wood chips. The walls cracked and shook violently, sending most of the hunters and spearmen falling down the falls, their cries startling the Prontera forces.
The lance finally stopped its charge as it planted itself into the ground right before the defenders. A blast rocked the ground, and those at the front died instantly. A shockwave followed, reeling a great number of men flying backwards.
"Why are ya stoppin'!? Throw 'em all!" Smith yelled to a Fiendbane.
The warrior shook his head.
"Ran out of it."
With the gate totally ripped apart by the lance, the orcs swarmed into Prontera, but they faltered suddenly. The sentient powers of the grand church began to take effect, crippling them to very limited capabilities. The defenders recovered quickly to meet the charge, the foot soldiers making up the vanguard swinging their swords over the green beasts. Orc blood spurted madly as the invaders fought to counter their foes. They hoped that their higher ranking comrades, the blue skinned high orcs, would crush the church as soon as possible.
A boulder flew over the walls and down onto the defenders. A few were smashed under it, and it almost killed a nearby Larzen. Muttering a prayer to Odin, the warlord slashed at an oncoming orc warrior.
Commanders shouted for the mounted knights to provide support. Prontera's own monks took down the orcs with several chains of martial arts, however, they have yet to master the fatal move, the Asura Strike. Only a couple of them managed a successful one, eliminating groups of orcs instantaneously. Not even a trace of their corpse remained behind.
Orc marksmen slew what few remained of those atop the walls. This unwelcoming sight brought despair on many. At this rate, Prontera would be finished despite their church. The orcs fought with all their might in spite of their disadvantage, revealing no compunction in their onslaught. The defenders did not let the powers of the church go to waste, battling away the orcs furiously. They even accepted death, for making full use of the sacred powers was necessary.
A couple of high orcs outside at the Prontera fields launched another boulder. The other catapults were moved by other high orcs to the north-eastern fields outside Prontera, where they hoped to destroy the grand church. The defenders stepped aside, making a path for the boulder to roll past them. Nobody was injured from this round, but that gave the orcs some time to steal attacks on them. Knowing that the next boulder would not come too soon after the recent round, Larzen shouted an order to the commander of the riders.
"Get in line, and run them down!"
The mounted knights stood abreast, the others quickly making way for them. The commander riding at the forefront gave a roar, and they reined their Pecopecos forward. The giant birds crashed right into the orcs, a few knights commanding their steed to trample on the beasts. All except the commander was uninjured. During the charge, an orc had stuck out his sword, grazing the commander's shoulder. The rider would have fell if he did not hung on to dear life. The knights cheered briefly as the orcs were killed by the stampede. However, they were still pushed backwards, the orcs gaining more ground.
The Lord of Death was not at all pleased at his troop's performance. Ordering more launching of the boulders in his frustrations, Death watch indifferently as the last few lines of orcs swarmed past the broken gate. Perhaps he was too caught up in the invasion, or perhaps he was eager for a speedy victory. From afar, a young teenager wearing a tattered tabard glared balefully at the silver knight, scrutinizing him until he was ready.