TRIGGER WARNING:
I know that anybody who has read this far knows that I do not shy away from a bit of gore in writing. Death by medieval weaponry is messy. However, there is going to be more blood and more guts over the next few chapters. Maybe don't eat when you read, just for the time being…
Anyway, I have been looking forwards to this finale for a while. I hope you all enjoy it!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Siege of Dragon Keep
It was time.
Slyrak still felt mildly disgruntled, but had kept clear of Davion's thoughts. For once, he had not felt compelled to discourage or stop Davion from dallying with Marci. They could all end up dead very soon, and as reluctant as he may have been to admit it, he had developed a grudging fondness for the two of them, even for Marci.
Maybe it was because he was lodged in Davion's soul, experiencing everything he thought and felt. Perhaps he had learned to respect Marci.
He had done his best not to focus on what the two humans did. He had been busy using the time to reach out to his compatriots. Dragons and Eldwurms usually worked, travelled and fought alone. Lirrak and Aethrak might have been exceptions.
Tonight was a night of firsts though. The remaining Eldwurms would meet here, at the home of their enemies, now their allies, to do battle for the fate of the world.
Now, as Davion and Marci dozed, still entwined and entangled, he sent out the call, reaching into the Thunder.
It was time to fight.
Marci woke slowly, warm, blissful, momentarily forgetful of what lay ahead. She was enfolded in Davion's strong arms, her own arms wrapped around him.
He had woken before she had. He was looking down at her, a smile on his face. There was still a hint of regret in his dark eyes, a secret he could not bear to tell her.
She just wanted to stay like this for as long as they could. She wanted to keep him safe. She felt content, provided she did not think about the foe they faced.
Marci gazed into his face and smiled, lifting an eyebrow.
'Nervous,' he admitted.
Marci raised both eyebrows. She wasn't sure what he'd had to be nervous about. To say that she'd enjoyed herself… well, it would have been an understatement. Marci certainly had no complaints.
She wondered if he was actually nervous about the battle. His answer surprised her. 'I… kind of guessed that you hadn't done this before. I wanted it to be special.'
Marci beamed at him, shuffled up and kissed him.
Davion chuckled when she finished. 'I take it you're pleased?'
Marci nodded, still smiling.
Davion grinned. 'Good! I have a reputation to uphold.'
Marci huffed with laughter and gave his chest a playful swat.
Davion held her hand in place and leaned back, letting her rest her head against his chest. 'I kind of had this in mind when we met in Barreltown. Less doom and Demons though.'
Marci could hear his heart beating, the rhythm soothing.
'No matter what happens, I'm glad we met, Marci.'
Marci tilted her head, reached up and caressed his face. She adopted a mischievous look, smiling flirtatiously.
Davion raised his eyebrows. 'Really?'
Marci nodded eagerly, grinning again.
Davion chuckled, putting his arms around her. 'You won't hear any arguments from me.' He pulled her closer, drawing her in for a kiss.
Somebody pounded on the door. 'Davion? Davion!' the door burst open and Bram tumbled through, less than graceful and clattering in his armour. He gawped at them, prompting Marci to duck down and burrow under the sheets.
Davion sighed. 'Bad timing, Bram.'
'Blame Terrorblade.' Bram looked away. 'Sorry to spoil your fun.'
'He's here? Already?'
Marci peeped over the edge of the bedspread, her eyes wide with alarm.
'The scouts say he will be here in a matter of hours. The Fathers have ordered everybody to prepare for battle.' Bram cleared his throat. 'I'll… let you get dressed.' He stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him.
'Damn Terrorblade,' Davion muttered. 'He could have taken his time, given us a bit longer.'
Marci sighed. Terrorblade, the world's greatest spoilsport. Another reason to punch him.
Every available siege engine had been prepared. The walls were lined with ballistae, scorpions and spitfires. A trio of trebuchets and a few catapults had been set up in the courtyard, gifts from grateful lords never put to use until now.
Garudas circled the keep. Archers stood at the ready in the courtyard and the walls, the latter groups supported by arbalests and crossbowmen.
Every warrior was armed and armoured for battle. Davion emerged from the armoury carrying his new sword, large, black bladed, arrayed with crimson dragon scales about the hilt. His companions emerged behind him, arrayed for war. Luna was bedecked in full steel plate, the belt girded about her waist heavy with blades, her kriegsmesser freshly honed. Aiushtha had scavenged some armour for herself, a combination of plate and mail. Caewyn was still lightly equipped, opting to take a sallet, greaves and spaulders.
Even Mirana and Marci had taken some extra armour. Mirana was now wearing a breastplate and was carrying a barbute under her arm, with splint armour to protect her arms and legs. She had taken up a falchion for close defence, in addition to her dagger and the shard in her bracer. Marci had opted for a plackart, steel greaves, fingerless gauntlets studded with steel, and a mail skirt. She wore no helmet, instead taking a steel collar. She had replenished her throwing knives, and was carrying an extra dagger and a baselard at her sides, though Davion knew that she would likely fight with fist and foot as usual.
The sky was overcast and gloomy. It could have been mistaken for night, if there wasn't enough light to see by.
They also had another batch of visitors, also being treated with wariness by the Dragon Knights.
They were elves, clad in dark plate and riding strange, bird-like beasts. Mirana, Marci and Luna scowled, grimaced, bared their teeth respectively when they saw the emblem on their breastplates: the symbol of Mene.
'They're from the Dark Moon Horde.' Purist explained, noticing Davion's confusion. He shrugged when Davion just looked more perplexed. 'I know. The names are very similar.'
'We can't be picky about our allies right now.'
Mirana must have had the same thought, for she placed a restraining hand on Luna's arm as Fymryn approached the new arrivals.
'Dierdd,' Davion heard Fymryn call before she started to speak in rapid elvish. He only knew a few words, mostly insults. As they spoke, Davion counted the new arrivals. Fifty in all. Less than he would have liked, if they were here to help. He was grateful though.
'The Invoker must have sent them.' Purist murmured. 'His plans will be naught but vain hopes if Terrorblade defeats us.'
'If he truly cared about the fate of the world, he would be here himself.' Mirana muttered darkly.
As Fymryn and Dierdd conversed, Davion heard some of the Knights reporting to Jorsen. It transpired that others had arrived during the night whilst he and Marci slept: stragglers from Knight's Hearth who wanted to avenge their city and their people, thirty-one of them fit for battle. Ten Omniknights had also turned up, arriving from various directions. Purist did not know all of them personally, the Omniscience had several such Knights wandering across the world. Rarely did they meet, and they usually acted alone. As it turned out, there weren't that many of them either, and the ten the Omniscience had sent were all who could be spared. Others were needed elsewhere, and many more could no longer be perceived by the dimming sight of their patron.
The centaur warriors Aiushtha had been hoping for had also arrived, led by Taug. Fifteen in all, but hardened by skirmishes against beasts and men, and eager for battle.
It also seemed that Selemene had not forsaken Mirana, despite everything. Forty Dark Moon Order Moon Riders had arrived shortly before Dierdd had, sent from the nearest temple—there apparently was one on the Isle of Songs.
'I just heard the final count,' Eserren announced as she marched over, fully armoured, her bardiche honed. 'Seven-thousand, two-hundred and three, ready for battle.'
'Against one-hundred thousand,' Aiushtha sighed. 'Do you think we have a chance?'
'We've made it this far.'
'DRAGON!'
Every Dragon Knight looked skywards as a shape moved through the clouds. Davion heard Slyrak whispering and took note of the song in his head, the sound familiar to him.
'Wait!' Davion called. 'Stay calm! Tell the Fathers that these are allies.'
A runner blew two short notes on his horn. The Knights remained wary, some of the squires jabbered fearfully. Their newest allies reached for their weapons, fearful and suddenly disorganised. Only the Omniknights remained still, though they too were watchful.
Davion could not blame them. Not when a fully grown fire dragon landed in the courtyard, lifted his head and roared into the sky. He was not the only one.
Murmurs and gasps went up as more dragons appeared in the sky. More fire dragons, and there were others. Sinuous golden shapes wove in and out of the clouds, flying without wings, shining with light: radiant dragons. Amongst them came one larger than the rest, her scales astonishingly bright, light billowing from her form: Orrak, the Eldwurm of Light.
The ground trembled as the huge, bulky magenta and purple forms of void dragons landed, creating craters where they stopped. Towering over the rest, his eyes full of power, small objects rising into the air around him, Byssrak, Eldwurm of the Void, stomped to the fore.
From the coast came crocodilian dragons, with webbing between their claws, gills flaring on their necks, water dripping constantly from between their bright blue scales. The Eldwurm of Water, Lirrak, padded ahead of them, hissing and eager to avenge Aethrak.
Auroth had shed her human disguise. She now swooped down onto the ramparts, spreading her wings and screeching. Only Rylai remained calm around her.
'Steady!' Carliven, standing before the great doors of the Keep, called out to his men. Though he leaned on his staff as he moved, he seemed somehow tall and resolute. His plain robes had been replaced with a long coat fashioned from dragon hide, underneath which he wore the scales of a void dragon. 'Stay your weapons! These dragons are here to aid us.'
'It goes against our oaths to ally with dragons!' a Knight shouted.
'Silence!' Ritterfau barked. 'You have your orders. Get to your post.'
Orrak hovered over the keep, looking down upon them. 'It is as your leaders say, mortals. We may never be friends, but in this battle, we fight together.'
'Your call is heeded, Slyrak.' Byssrak rumbled. 'Here we stand. Or fall.'
'Can this get any weirder, Davion?' Jorsen muttered.
'I know you warned us,' Bram murmured, 'but hearing it and seeing it are two different things. We're actually going to fight with dragons now?'
'There's a first time for everything.' Fymryn remarked, winking at Marci, who blushed ever so slightly and smiled.
'I'd feel better if the Legions showed up too.' Mirana admitted.
'They will be here soon, Princess.' Garrisan promised. 'It's only a matter of time. All we have to do is hold until then.'
Davion swallowed, gripping the hilt of his greatsword tightly. This was a huge risk. Auroth was right. If they did not beat Terrorblade here, they never would.
Every surviving Eldwurm had heeded Slyrak's call. If even one of them fell to Terrorblade, the Demon Marauder would be one step closer to his goal.
There weren't as many dragons here as Davion would have hoped for. He supposed that the Eldwurms did not want to risk making their species extinct. It wasn't like every human in the world was here.
'A pity we don't have more men.' Jorsen grimaced.
'You go to war with the army you have,' Eserren said wisely, 'not the army you want, otherwise you would never fight.'
'Been reading that wyvern's books?'
'No. My father told me that.'
'Davion,' a squire approached, distaste evident as he gazed upon Davion. 'The Fathers wish to speak to you and your companions.'
Davion nodded in response. He and his friends headed towards Carliven and Ritterfau. Ritterfau's golden dragon scales gleamed despite the dim light. He was fidgeting with the hilt of his sword, also wrought with radiant dragon scales.
'I have taken your words into account, Davion.' Carliven said. 'You and your wurm-forged companion—'
'Her name is Marci.' Luna muttered.
'—will be kept from the fighting—'
Marci glowered, shook her head and smacked a fist into her open palm.
'We're fighting, Carliven.' Davion agreed. 'Holding us back won't help you.'
'You of all people should know that Davion is a skilled swordsman.' Mirana added. 'And we can all vouch for Marci's skill in combat, as well as her strength.'
'The Princess is right,' Eserren agreed. 'We will need Davion and Marci in the fight. Not out of it.'
Carliven glanced at Davion, his gaze shrewd. 'Very well.'
'I have no intention of dying, Father. Not until Terrorblade is defeated.' Davion vowed.
'And your friend?'
'She knows what is at stake. You can trust her to destroy the Direstone.'
Ritterfau grimaced. 'To think that we rest our hopes on the shoulders of two abominations.'
'Call my friends abominations again—' Aiushtha began, her pleasant face unusually harsh.
'Not now, Aiushtha.' Purist warned. 'If we fight amongst ourselves, we lose.'
Aiushtha pawed at the stone with her hooves, snorting indignantly.
Carliven looked over them all. 'You will take positions amongst the others. We prepare for a defence.'
'What about a charge?' Aiushtha asked.
'Against one-hundred thousand?' Mirana shook her head. 'We'd be slaughtered. No. We stand a better chance here.'
'Mirana is right.' Luna stated darkly. 'I know all too well what would happen.'
'Terrorblade will not be so foolish as to expose himself or his Direstone without need.' Mirana continued. 'He'll know that we're preparing to make a stand. He knows that we're desperate.'
'We need to deplete his army as much as possible,' Eserren nodded. 'Thin his ranks enough to give Marci an opening.'
'Perhaps if we do that, we can draw Terrorblade into range of our ballistae.' Caewyn concluded.
'We might have a better chance if these soldiers were not so fearful.' Luna noted. 'Look at them! The way some of them act, you'd think they were already dead.'
'Can you blame them?'
'If they have no stomach for this, we won't last ten minutes.'
Davion looked over the men and women assembled in the courtyard and atop the walls. The Omniknights were stoic enough, but the others were afraid and unable to hide it.
No, he could not blame them either. The new arrivals had been brave enough to volunteer for what seemed to be a hopeless battle, but they were starting to succumb to the tension, and they were realising how slim their odds of victory were.
As for the Dragon Knights, they had come here for a Great Hunt, not to fight a Demon and his vast army.
Carliven and Ritterfau weren't the sort to inspire their men. Kaden hadn't been the sort for speeches either.
Davion wondered what he could say. But would they listen to a traitor harbouring Slyrak's soul? Would they even listen to Eserren?
Marci tapped Mirana's arm and raised her eyebrows. Mirana gazed at her, considering something. After a moment, she sighed and held out her barbute. Marci nodded and took it. 'Luna, can you call for a muster?'
Luna half-smiled. 'I think I can manage.' She turned towards the courtyard. 'SOLDIERS! STAND AND TAKE HEED!'
Mirana moved up the steps, turning to face the warriors before her as they all faced her, startled by Luna's bellowed order.
They were such a motley collection, Davion thought. Dragon Knights and their squires, Omniknights, Imperium Legionnaires, centaur warriors, Moon Riders, Dark Moon crusaders, Warlocks and Fell-Speakers of the Ultimyr Academy, militia and soldiers of Knight's Hearth, Eldwurms and dragons, all brought together for one battle, one purpose, united for a final stand.
It gave him hope.
He felt a hand touch his. A tiny smile curled his lips as he held Marci's hand, feeling her squeeze his gently, not needing to sign or whistle.
Standing atop the steps, Carliven and Ritterfau slightly below her and to one side, Mirana seemed taller and more commanding than she had before. Gone was the cold haughtiness Davion had first beheld in her. He could almost feel her will, her hope, her strength, from where he and Marci stood.
Mirana cleared her throat. 'Soldiers… friends, you all know why we are here, and you all know what we stand against.
I know that you are scared. You'd be fools not to be afraid. I'm afraid too. I'm afraid of dying. I'm afraid of losing my friends, the people I care for, the ones I love. We are all afraid.
But if we do not make our stand, we lose everything. I won't ask you to stand for the sake of glory. I won't ask you to stand for the sake of honour. I won't ask you even to stand for duty. This isn't about glory, or honour, or duty.
This about what you love. That is what you should fight for!
We may be outnumbered, but we fight with heart and soul as well as steel. That is more than our enemy has!
Let's show them our hearts! Let's fight to protect what we love! Stand together, and we will overcome!' Mirana held up her bow and thrust it into the air. 'We stand together. All as one!'
Marci whistled loudly, Davion found himself holding up his sword, flames kindling about its edge.
'Ave Imperium!'
'Until the last falls!'
'Our love and our lives!
'Tie'vyen adress lirei!'
Sensing the moods of their riders, and the coming battle, the night-beasts roared.
'Ready yourselves!' Luna shouted, brandishing her blade. 'Sound the horns! Let them know that this is where we make our stand! Let them know that we fight!' She lowered her weapon, turned and nodded to Mirana. 'I'll follow you, Empress.'
Mirana started to descend the steps. 'One thing at a time, Luna,' she clapped Luna on the shoulder. 'First, we win this battle. Then I can worry about becoming the Empress.'
'You really believe that we can win?'
'As Eserren said,' Mirana removed her tiara, slid it into a pouch, and pulled on her borrowed barbute, 'we've made it this far. And we all have something to live for.'
Luna looked around at the others, noticing Davion and Marci clasp hands, Eserren and Caewyn embrace. 'I suppose you do. And I suppose that means we have something to die for too.'
'Stay alive, Luna.'
'Is that an order, Princess?
'Maybe.' Mirana smiled. 'You have something to live for too.'
Luna cocked her head. 'And here I thought you didn't like me.'
Mirana chuckled. 'You've grown on me.'
Luna chortled. 'Come on now. We're going to miss the battle if we stand around chatting, and after that speech, I'm ready for a fight. Get up on that wall and stick an arrow in Terrorblade's eye.'
The horns sounded as Mirana hurried up the steps. Luna called Nova and leapt into the saddle, riding towards the other side of the fortress. The garudas and griffons clawed at the ground, spreading their wings.
Luna wondered if fighting this battle would count as atonement.
She guessed that she would know soon enough.
'Would ya look at that?' Pudge laughed as he waddled forwards. 'A load of tasty morsels, all gathered in one spot!'
Terrorblade watched as the ranks of un-dead, humanoid or otherwise, stumbled and staggered past, dragging their rotting carcasses towards Dragon Keep. Enthralled dragons stomped amongst them, some flying overhead.
The Direstone was hauled into position alongside the siege engines they had plundered from Knight's Hearth. Ahead of them came the hell-engines. Wrought of corpses fused together with foul magic and filled with devilish power, these walking travesties of flesh, these semi-living weapons of carnage, were intended more to sow terror than break steel and stone.
Rank upon rank of revenants halted just out of shot of the walls of Dragon Keep, no feeling other than hunger within them, and the compulsion to follow Terrorblade's commands since he had bent the Direstone to his will.
He could see the golden forms of radiant dragons over Dragon Keep, and blasts of fire which betrayed the presence of fire dragons.
Good. Slyrak had done exactly what he had hoped for, and he could not help but chuckle at the irony.
'What's so funny?' Pudge grunted, pawing at the rusty edge of the huge cleaver he had fashioned for himself.
'The rest of the Eldwurms have arrived to face me.' Terrorblade explained, his avatar bearing its fangs in a parody of a grin. 'The dragons have come to die at Dragon Keep.' He craned the avatar's neck, peering at the walls. They were bristling with soldiers, no doubt terrified of the vast host which prepared to assail them.
There was no way they could defeat Terrorblade's army. They were doomed, and Terrorblade knew it.
He chortled. 'Let's give them a little false hope, Pudge, and test their defences. I think we can afford to lose a mere ten-thousand thralls. Send in the first wave.'
It was always the same before every fight.
Now on foot atop the wall, Luna felt the familiar anticipation, the whisperings of fear deep within. She always appeared to be fearless before a battle, but she believed that only idiots and the dead felt no fear.
How could they not be afraid facing a foe such as this?
The mismatched ranks of Terrorblade's host reached up the rise in the distance, just out of range of their bows and siege weapons. Amongst the thousands of revenants were the huge forms of dragons, as well as what appeared to be corpses fused together into grotesque new shapes, arms and legs formed into tree-trunks of muscle, bone and sinew, giving them the vague look of a quadruped. Rising from their lumpy backs were off protrusions made of weirdly shaped bones, the bones themselves seemingly melted and formed into bizarre new limbs, hollow, pronged, unhallowed symbols carved into them.
Luna kept her breathing steady, controlling every breath. Once the fighting began, the fear would vanish. There would only be the battle, no time to think about anything. A wait which felt like hours would become less than seconds when they fought.
Below, she heard senior Dragon Knights shout orders. They were preparing the trebuchets and catapults. Along the walls, the ballistae, scorpions and spitfires were manned and loaded. Garudas and griffons screeched and trilled, dragons roared and growled.
To think that they were fighting alongside dragons! Even Selemene could not have foreseen this!
Luna thought she saw something moving. Sure enough, a large, lumpy, mishapen form, vaguely humanoid, waddled towards the front of Terrorblade's army. It waved what appeared to be a giant cleaver and the front rank of un-dead began to shamble forwards. A pair of sky dragons took to the sky and an earth dragon burrowed into the dirt, vanishing behind a cloud of dust and flying stones.
So it began.
Luna slowly reached up, grasped the visor of the bascinet she had borrowed, and pulled it down, reducing her field of vision to a narrow slit. She could smell the steel encasing her head, pressing against her long hair, which trailed down under her collar. She could feel sweat under her arms, already beginning to soak into her tunic and gambeson, she could smell the sweat of the soldiers around her, she could feel her own as it trickled down her spine. She lifted the longbow she had appropriated from the armoury and nocked an arrow. She was not nearly as skilled an archer as Mirana was, but she hit more often than she missed.
Not that a miss would matter much now. The enemy was so closely packed together, with no instinct for survival, that she was bound to hit something.
It seemed her companions had similar ideas. Davion had also taken up a longbow, leaving his new sword propped against the crenellation he stood behind. Marci was holding a pilum, one of several brought by the legionnaires and placed along the walls in small piles. Bram and Purist were both clutching crossbows, and Eserren was ready with a selection of javelins. Fymryn had found herself a hunting bow. Aiushtha scraped at the stonework with her hooves as she lifted her staff.
Luna looked over at Mirana, standing alongside Marci and Davion, her recurve bow glowing faintly. She hoped that the Princess had some useful tricks to use. If ever there was a time for magic, it was now.
The Warlocks and Fell-Speakers started to chant, low and menacing. Radiant dragons hovered over the walls, growling and snapping their jaws, bursts of painful light flashing between their fangs. The Moon Riders began to recite a hymn.
'Oh gods!' one of the men next to Luna, a squire, she guessed, gibbered, clutching at his axe as a drowning man clings to flotsam. 'Oh gods! We can't win! We're all going to die!'
'Pull yourself together!' Luna snapped. 'You will die if you act like a coward. You might as well throw yourself off the wall.' She seized his arm, glaring at him through her visor. 'Are you a warrior of the Dragon Knight Order? Or are you craven? Make your choice.' She released his arm. 'But whatever you decide, there is no retreat. Not now. Our only escape from this is by death or victory.'
He shuddered, reached up, fumbled with his sallet's visor, and managed to lower it.
'Good man. If you're going to die today, die well, and take as many of the bastards with you as you can.'
'What about you? Aren't you afraid?'
If he could have seen through Luna's visor, he would have seen a grim smile. 'Of course I am. But I would rather die with a blade in my hand than end my life as a coward. Maybe death is the fate I deserve, but that does not mean that I will meet my end without a fight.'
There were at least ten-thousand of them coming. This was not the hammer-blow Luna would have committed to herself. Terrorblade was playing with them. He was probing their defences, assessing their strength with a disposable force. He could afford to lose some troops.
Even so, those ten-thousand thralls could still overwhelm them. The only advantage the defenders of Dragon Keep possessed was the fortress itself. There had been times in history in which a handful of soldiers within a castle had held off forces many times their number, with only starvation bringing them low.
Luna doubted that Terrorblade would simply wait for them to starve. He would want to crush them utterly, to truly win his victory.
He would send in the ten-thousand strong host to test them, to thin their ranks a little if they could, and then he would send in the rest.
Luna had meant what she said though. She would rather die fighting.
They shuffled onwards, coming ever closer. A horn sounded from above, blown by one of the garuda riders circling overhead.
'Trebuchets!'
The trebuchets were unleashed, flinging flaming stones high into the sky. They fell upon the enemy, crushing the unfeeling dead thralls, setting them alight as they tumbled through the ranks.
Another horn sounded. 'Catapults!'
The catapults thudded and clattered, hurling their own flaming boulders into the enemy ranks. Still they came, unafraid and relentless.
Luna glanced at the siege weapons along the wall, wondering why those hadn't been used yet. The enemy was easily within range of the ballistae.
'Archers, nock!'
Luna had already nocked an arrow. She saw the archers spaced along the wall nock arrows. They held their arrows over braziers, igniting the wool enclosed within the cage-like arrowheads they were using.
'Draw!'
Luna gauged the distance, raised her bow and drew back the string. The other archers mirrored her.
'Loose!'
Luna released the bowstring, barely feeling it slap against her bracer. Her arrow flew into the sky, one of thousands. She lost sight of it as it mingled with the others, falling upon the host below. Flames kindled, but still they did not stop.
'Nock! Draw! Loose!'
Luna loosed another arrow too. Again and again, they loosed arrows into the horde. But these foes were un-dead. It would take more than a few arrows to stop them.
Mirana loosed another arrow, glowing blue at the tip. When it struck, Luna saw flashes of light, tendrils of arcane power lashing out at other foes, striking them down, not quite lightning, but similar, and effective.
'Archers, in your time!'
The archers and crossbowmen began to release arrows at will as the enemy reached the walls. Marci and the legionnaires were hurling their pilum at them. Marci had already pinned a few of them to the ground.
They had brought no siege ladders, Luna realised as she took up her kriegsmesser. How were they going to scale the walls?
The answer came a moment later. The still moving un-dead below clumped together, forming a pile, climbing each other. Some had even dragged the fallen with them, to add to the pile. They were forming a crude ladder of flesh and bone.
'Dragons!'
Now Luna saw why the ballistae had not been used against the un-dead. They had been reserved for the dragons. The crews tracked and loosed their bolts against the two sky dragons as they swooped overhead.
Luna grimaced. Terrorblade had been clever. The sky dragons were not simply attacking them, they were carrying more un-dead thralls on their backs and in their talons.
They swept in low, dropping them on the wall and down in the courtyard. Many were smashed into bloody pulp on impact, but others survived. The garuda and griffon riders gave chase, and one of the dragons wheeled around to tear them apart.
One dragon halted in mid air, held in place, immobile and helpless, screaming as its bones were crushed and its scales shattered. A purple light surrounded it, the same light emanating from Byssrak. He was crushing the dragon alive.
A fire dragon pounced upon the other, bringing it down with its greater mass and ripping in at it, fire spilling from its jaws.
Lances of burning light speared the un-dead at the walls as Luna hacked a revenant apart. The radiant dragons were cutting swaths through the horde with beams of light.
A stream of red fire caught one of the radiant dragons, unleashed from one of the weird fused forms waddling about the field. The dragon screeched and tumbled, scales falling from its hide as parts of its body unfolded, twisted, turning outwards, bones erupting through hide and muscle.
Another blast struck a man close to Luna. She could only watch in horror as he wailed, his cries turning to gurgles. Blood erupted from the gaps in his armour and he fell into a limp, formless pile. He had been turned inside out. Literally.
'Hell-engines!' Auroth cried. She settled atop the wall, a dome of pale light forming around her, shielding her and those around from the demonic energies flung forth. 'Take cover!'
Rylai waved her staff, forming a wall of ice around her section of the wall. Purist and his fellow Omniknights knelt, holding aloft their weapons, forming glimmering shields of light about themselves and the people closest to them. The Warlocks cast spells to absorb the beams of foul power, redirecting them back at the enemy with horrific results. Amongst both sides, bones and organs flew from those struck by the hell-engines' power. Luna heard screams as the more lightly armoured among them were pierced by errant shards of bone, wails as others were doused with the blood of their comrades. Her own armour was bloodied, and she could smell gore everywhere, as well as piss and excrement as the fear and horror struck at the defenders.
The radiant dragon which had been hit earlier fell from the air, crashing down upon the battlefield, half of its body sundered and peeled outwards.
'Stand strong!' Luna heard Eserren bellow. 'Stand together!' She was hacking through several un-dead which had gained the top of the wall. Some of her allies had broken and fallen back, but Caewyn had drawn her baselard and was fighting at her side alongside Bram.
They could not stand alone though. Luna was too far away to help, and busy fighting her own foes.
'Sproink!' Aiushtha shouted, more to warn Eserren, Caewyn and Bram as she leapt over several warriors and ploughed into the knot of un-dead, crushing their bones with her hooves and her staff, blasting them with spells.
Luna saw trails of flame out of the corner of her eye as Davion fought to defend the gatehouse. Mirana had drawn her falchion and was fighting alongside him. Marci darted to and fro, fists and feet smashing the bodies of any un-dead foolish enough to attack her or her friends.
The earth dragon erupted from the ground before the walls. The builders of Dragon Keep had ensured that no earth dragon could tunnel through the foundations. Though it had been foiled, it had not given up. Instead of tunnelling under the wall, it instead dug into the stonework and leapt up, reaching the top in moments.
Luna ducked as it soared over her head, landing in the courtyard and smashing one of the trebuchets to pieces, crushing luckless men under its bulk, seizing and shredding anybody within reach.
Carliven, standing atop the steps leading into the keep, whirled his staff and aimed it at the dragon. Forks of lightning leapt forth and struck its snout, blasting scales from its head, searing its hide, stabbing into its eyes. Above, Ritterfau directed his garuda to fly overhead. He pointed his sword at the dragon, sending a lance of light spearing into its back. Lirrak hissed and spat, spraying it with acid.
The dragon howled and lashed out, enraged and blind. Byssrak calmly smacked it with his massive, mace-like tail, sending it reeling. Carliven cast another spell, sending a single bolt of lightning straight into the earth dragon's mouth, bursting organs from within. The dragon collapsed limply, its corpse smoking and smouldering, blood spreading around it.
Luna kept hacking at the un-dead around her, ignoring the ache in her arms and the pain of her armour pressing down upon her. Blades scraped her plate as she fought. Though the un-dead were numerous, felt no pain or fear, they had no skill.
A knot of them descended upon Davion. Marci and Mirana moved to aid him, but there was no need. Liquid fire erupted from his gauntlet as he thrust it forwards, and Luna smelt sizzling flesh as it melted holes in the revenants attacking him.
'So that's what it does!' Luna heard him shout in surprise. It seemed that every suit of dragon scale had a surprise in store. She didn't know that most suits of fire dragon armour could emit fire, yet even a veteran Dragon Knight would have been surprised by what Davion's armour had just done.
Mirana turned and rammed her blade through the head of a revenant about to attack Marci, piercing its skull. Marci grabbed another, threw it to the ground and crushed its skull with her boot, sparing Mirana a grateful nod when she was done.
Luna wrenched her blade from a fallen foe. the blade dripping with blood, panting heavily. All she could hear was heavy breathing, her own loud inside her helmet. Her hair was soaked with sweat, and her tunic was wet with it. Her limbs were shaking with adrenaline.
She was not alone. All around her, shaky soldiers stood, panting, sweating, bloodied.
Luna lifted her visor, breathing through her mouth to avoid smelling the reek around her. She could not shut out the cries of the wounded, the wails of the dying, the despair of the survivors mourning the deaths of their friends and kin.
It was over. The first wave, anyway. Terrorblade was not going to stop with one assault. He had known that his first attack would fail, he had wanted to test them.
If he had found their defences lacking anywhere, they would know soon enough.
Luna dragged herself to the steps of the gatehouse, sat down and removed her helm, resisting the urge to shake out her long hair. Instead, she simply wiped the sweat from her forehead and sighed.
Marci peered down at her and whistled softly.
'What?' Luna asked heavily.
Marci crouched and indicated Luna's side. Luna looked down and winced. In the heat of battle, she had not noticed a small shard of bone pierce her gambeson, just between her cuirass and tassets. 'Oh. Bugger.'
Marci whistled Mirana over. Mirana knelt at Luna's side and inspected the shard. 'Does it hurt?'
'Not really.'
'That's either down to adrenaline or it's not very deep.'
'Both.' Luna assessed. She reached down and took hold of the shard.
'No! Luna, don't—'
Luna yanked it out. Blood welled from the wound.
Marci whistled sharply and glared at Luna.
'Luna, you idiot!' Mirana hissed. 'You should know better than to do that!'
'Maybe I don't like having pointy things stuck in me.'
' And maybe you should think about whether it could have penetrated something vital, or snagged an artery. If you go ripping things out on a whim—'
'I know, I know. I could bleed to death or die of infection.' Luna rolled her eyes. 'Princess, I have been killing people for years, and they've been trying to kill me for just as long. I'm not dead yet.'
'Don't tempt fate.'
'What I'm saying is that I've taken apart so many bodies and been hurt that many times, I think I know what I can and can't pull out.'
'You should never take that risk.' Mirana stated. 'Aiushtha? Can you help me please?'
Aiushtha, her flanks still heaving, aimed her staff at Luna's wound. Luna winced as the greenish wisps zipped about her side, sealing the wound. 'Thanks, but I think others need your help more.'
'I wish that was true.' Aiushtha panted. 'But the most I can for many of the wounded is ease their pain.' She left without another word, seeking more wounded to aid however she could.
'How do we stand?' Davion asked.
'We've lost over one-hundred fighters.' Eserren reported as she approached. 'It could have been worse.'
'It's not over yet.' Luna stated. 'So we beat off ten-thousand dead things and a couple of dragons. Terrorblade still has a greater force than ours, and he knows it, and everybody here does too.'
Marci huffed and signed, managing a small smile.
Davion chuckled. 'You're right, Marci. We should be more optimistic.'
Luna sighed. 'Fine. Ten-thousand down. Only ninety-thousand to go. How's that?'
Marci smiled and nodded.
'Better.' Davion agreed.
Luna plucked a flask from her belt, took a swig, then handed it to Mirana. 'Drink up. We all need some.'
Mirana drank without protest, grimacing a little, then handed it to Marci.
'What's he waiting for?' Mirana whispered as Davion drank next.
'He's letting us feel the fear.' Bram answered quietly.
'Very astute, Bram,' Auroth murmured as she approached, back in her human form. 'You are right.'
Of course he was, Luna realised. If Terrorblade kept up a relentless attack, all the defenders would be able to focus on was trying to repel that attack. There was hardly any time to think in combat, if there was any at all. In the melee, it all devolved into instinct, action and reaction, reflex and the survival instinct.
Holding off even that first assault had been hard. It had cost them more than it had Terrorblade, for his pawns were disposable. And despite Luna's attempt at optimism, she knew what they all secretly did.
When Terrorblade committed to the final assault, he would flatten them. If he breached the walls, it would end in hours, if that.
'We have to hold the walls.' Luna spoke aloud.
Caewyn nodded and swept her bloodied, sodden fringe out of her eyes. 'It's not going to be easy.'
'That's an understatement, Caewyn.' Rylai remarked dryly. 'He has siege engines and dragons, and the dragons we have are vulnerable to his hell-engines.'
'Good thing we have the Warlocks then,' Luna drank from the flask again. 'Never thought I'd say something good about Warlocks.'
Marci huffed. The others chuckled with her. It was less due to humour, more out of nerves and the relief of surviving.
Along the walls, the Omniknights began to pray. The surviving Moon Riders started to sing another hymn.
Luna heard faint singing next to her too, and turned her head to see that Mirana had her eyes closed, her lips moving as she softly sang. At first, Luna thought she was singing with the Moon Riders. It took her a moment to realise that she was singing something else, in the old Imperium tongue.
Marci started to quietly whistle with her. Mirana put her arm around Marci's shoulders as she sang, and Davion clasped Marci's hand. Luna reached up from where she sat and held Mirana's hand. Fymryn said nothing as she approached, pausing to pat Mirana's arm before leaning against the crenellation and sliding down it. A hand encased in a thick, scaled gauntlet rested on her shoulder: Eserren's. She had her arm around Caewyn's shoulders as Aiushtha returned with Purist, Donté and Garrisan.
'I don't suppose the Omniscience has anything to tell us?' Luna said.
'Nothing that we don't already know.' Purist answered. 'At this moment, we can trust only in ourselves.'
'Sounds familiar.' Luna handed him the flask and he took a long draw from it. His formerly immaculate armour was covered in gore, as was his hammer.
'I know this seems like a lost cause,' Garrisan said, taking the flask when Purist offered it to him. 'But we have a chance.'
'A small chance.' Donté nodded.
'A very small chance.' Aiushtha added.
Marci whistled again.
'Optimism, friends.' Caewyn concurred. 'Go on, Garrisan.'
Garrisan smiled and looked to Mirana. 'Did I ever tell you about the Battle of Intention Hill?'
'You and Kashurra both did.' Mirana recalled. 'Five hundred Imperium soldiers against five thousand ursa warriors. A great victory for the Imperium.'
'Exactly. They won.' Garrisan handed the flask to her.
Mirana realised there was very little left and looked to Luna, who nodded, took the flask, and drained it as Mirana concluded glumly: 'But only three of them survived. Not much of a victory.'
'But a victory all the same. In this fight, so long as we stop Terrorblade, we win.'
'I would rather we all make it out of this alive.'
Marci whistled softly and signed.
Davion sighed and nodded. 'There's always a price to pay.'
Someone started to sing. Luna thought it was Mirana, but the voice was different and Mirana was silent, and she did not have a Ruelander accent. Caewyn was singing this time, a song which was familiar to Luna, a song about hope even in the darkest moments.
'Didn't I write that one?' Auroth murmured.
Caewyn nodded as she sang. Mirana started to sing with her as Marci whistled. Before Luna knew it, she was singing too, along with the rest of the wall. They started to sing in the courtyard below. Dragon Knights, Omniknights, Moon Riders, Dark Moon Crusaders, centaurs, Imperium soldiers, loyalists and zealots, exiles and outcasts, all united in one cause.
Maybe if they somehow survived this, some of them might become enemies again. Maybe they would not. Nobody could know for certain. But for today, they were united in one cause.
Luna could not help but smile as she sang. Even if they lost, they had achieved a small victory.
Sometimes a small victory was better than no victory.
'What the 'ell is that?' Pudge demanded, narrowing his mismatched eyes.
Terrorblade scoffed. 'They're singing, Pudge.' He started to laugh in earnest, confusing the Butcher further still. 'They still believe that they can win this. They still have hope.' His avatar bared its fangs in a cruel grin. 'Let's crush their hope. Prepare our forces for the next assault. This time...' he looked over his ninety-thousand strong host, greater than what awaited them in Dragon Keep, unstoppable and inexorable. This army had no need for hope, and it did not matter to Terrorblade how many survived. They could all fall for all he cared, so long as he claimed his victory. 'This time, we will leave them with only fear, and then we shall give them what they will crave in the end: death. It's time for the next assault.'
At Terrorblade's command, an even greater force marched forwards. Sixty-thousand strong, accompanied by more earth and sky dragons, as well as ionic and chaos dragons. Hell-engines lumbered along with them, and the siege engines were hauled into position.
The sixty thousand would enact a brutal slaughter the enemy could never hope to withstand. And even if they did, only a handful would remain. Thirty-thousand would be more than enough to finish them off.
