Chapter Sixteen: Shantay Pass
Warmaster Athellenas took off his helm, wiping off his forehead with an already-dirty rag. The hot desert sun was out in all its glory today, beating down upon the thousands of Centralian soldiers who dared to defy it by marching through the desert under its powerful glare.
"Warmaster," Sir Derren was pointing up ahead. "One of our scouts is reporting back."
Sure enough, a man on horseback came into view, galloping at full clip towards Athellenas's position at the head of the advance.
The Warmaster spurred Onyx on, riding forward to meet with the scout so they would be able to converse in private. "Greetings, Sir Gellart!" Athellenas called over to the approaching scout.
Sir Gellart gave a respectful nod and salute in reply. "Warmaster, sir…my men are within sight of the Shantay Pass. We're about an hour's march away."
Athellenas nodded. This made sense. The Centralian 1st Element had been marching south through sporadic hills and the occasional mountain for the past day, now. It was certainly a welcome change from the dune-filled, bleak desert they had been forced to slog through since they left Iunu. There were two large mountains just up ahead that seemed to fill up the sky, and the 1st Element was heading for the pass that ran in between them. It was the only way to get from the northern section of the Menaphite Empire to the southern reaches.
"What does it look like down there?" the Warmaster asked next, gesturing for the scout to fall into step next to him as he continued to ride forward.
"Two sheer walls of rock rising up on either side, with a large white stone wall blocking the way-"
"No, I know what Shantay Pass looks like," Athellenas corrected the scout. "I mean what does the enemy presence look like?"
"Substantial…for lack of a better term," Gellart replied hesitantly. "Thre's…sir, that is…there's a lot of them, sir. Vampyres, death knights…undead…some monsters I don't even recognize…"
"Did you see who is heading up the defenses there?" Athellenas asked that, stopping the scout from drifting off.
Sir Gellart quickly shook his head, clearing his mind, and answered. "We—uh…I think so, yes. It was a demon…a big one...yellow skin, black eyes, five tails…ring any bells?"
"Sounds like our old pal Fel-Ugrroth…" Athellenas murmured. The scouts description did strike a chord in the Warmaster; Athellenas and Jerrod had clashed with a five-tailed yellow demon during one of their escapades into the Wilderness. The Warmaster still had a scar on his chest to attest to that.
"Sir?" the scout asked, not understanding what the Warmaster meant.
"I fought this demon a couple decades ago…" Athellenas started to explain, but he then shrugged and brought his mind back to the present. "Bah—it matters not. We've killed demons before, and we'll do it again. Report back to your observations," the Warmaster ordered Sir Gellart. "If anything critical arises, make haste back to me."
"It will be done," the scout nodded. He reined in his horse and dug his boots into its sides, speeding off into the mountains ahead.
Athellenas gazed across the wide-open stretch of land that lay in between the ridge he was on and the solid white wall of the Shantay Pass. The wall extended up sixty or seventy feet into the air, and it spanned the entire gap between the two cliffs that formed the Pass, a distance of roughly three miles. Every inch of it was manned by groups and lines of roaring, jeering monsters, calling for the blood of Athellenas and his men. The land in front of the pass was a mixture of fine sand and granite stones. It was all flat. There was also a wide dirt road that ran through the center of the Pass, which was used by all individuals who traveled through the area.
The road was empty now…but it was about to be filled again with soldiers. It wound its way through the Pass until it reached the Shatay Wall's gate. None could see the road continue past that point…though they would if the battle on the morrow was won.
"What do you make of this?" Athellenas asked the other members of his impromptu council of war, gesturing to the land ahead. "I have my own conclusions, but I would like to hear your opinions as well."
The others took a few minutes to scrutinize the future battlefield, formulating their own opinions. Sir Havarell was the first to speak.
"Cavalry is not going to be of much use, here," the old horsemaster murmured. "Too closed in for wide-scale operations. The only time I think we could be any help would be after the Wall is breached…we can push through and mow down retreating monsters. But other than that…"
"He's right," General Sinclar, who had finally recovered from the wounds he had received in Iunu, agreed. "This will be a footsoldier's fight."
"Agreed," Athellenas nodded. "Sir Derren; when we are finished here, have the surgeons set up the hospital tents behind this ridge. Sir Havarell, I want your men to be our rearguard. They will be posted around the hospital tents and the supply wagons. They will dig trenches in front of this ridge, which will serve as our fallback point should the battle go ill."
"They will not like this, sir," the cavalry commander chuckled.
"They shall have their turn," Athellenas replied. "We all will. See to it."
Sir Havarell and Sir Derren both nodded.
"Now…back to business."
Sir Brezhnov, the hulking, bear-like, dark-haired artillery commander from the Fremmenik Provinces of northwestern Centralia gave a throaty grumble as he eyed the various vantage and angle points in the Pass. "With your permission, Warmaster, I would place my trebuchets on this here ridge, as well as the long-range mortar. Does this conflict with any of your plans?"
"It does not," Athellenas shook his head.
"I shall have my captains deploy our field gunneries below. We will advance with your infantry. If the Zamorackian scum dares to face us on the field, we shall crush them like glass beneath our boots."
"And what of Fel-Ungrroth?"
It had been Paladin Anesti who had spoken. Athellenas glanced up at the Saradominist warrior. "How did you know-"
Paladin Anesti held up a hand, quelling the Warmaster. "How I know is irrelevant. What matters is that the horde guarding this pass is under the command of a powerful demon who I can assure you is definitely not going to turn tail and flee. Never mind breaching the Wall; if we want this Pass, we are going to have to kill Fel-Ungrroth."
"The five-tailed demon could make short work of a company of footsoldiers," General Airoh sighed. "Our boys are good fighters; we all know they are…but greater demons are out of their league. This is a job for…professionals."
"Let me have the bastard," Sir Brezhnov grunted, the fire in his coal-black eyes beginning to spark. "Bring 'im in front of one o' my guns, and BOOM!" the grizzled artillery commander clapped and spread his hands, simulating an explosion.
"I hardly think gunpowder and metal will be enough to bring down a greater demon," Paladin Anesti interjected. "This is a job for-"
"For what? Magic? Pah-" Sir Brezhnov uttered the word like a curse, spitting on the ground for emphasis. "Our cannons are brand-new, the fruits of our advancing technology. That demon has walked this world for millennia, and never before has it encountered anything like our cannons. In all that time, magic has not been able to bring it down. Time for something new, says I."
"How amusing, Warmaster," Anesti gave a forced smile. "I did not know that the Centralian Army employed simple-minded savages as commanders, much less common soldiers. Allow me to put this into simple terms so that he can understand."
Brezhnov's lip curled in a savage snarl. He drew his blade and took a step towards the Paladin. Anesti settled down into a defensive stance, raising his hands in front of him, one hand curled in a fist and the other resting on top of it. Small tongues of flame appeared at his fingertips.
"Enough." Athellenas stepped between his two subordinates. "Brezhnov, while you are in a council of war with me, you will restrain your temper. And you-" the Warmaster turned to Anesti. "When your mouth opens, I expect to hear nothing less than the sound of you positively contributing to my war effort. I'm afraid insulting my artillery commander does not fit within those parameters. Am I understood?"
Both Anesti and Brezhnov muttered a reluctant, "Yes, Warmaster."
"Good. Now that we are all close and dear friends with one another once more, let us return to the matter at hand. Deploy your gunnery, Brezhnov. As for the demon…" Athellenas cleared his throat and made sure he had the attention of all of his commanders before continuing. "As for Fel-Ungrroth, you are right, Anesti; we must kill him before we can proceed. However, we no longer have Jerrod with us…and even if he were still here, I doubt even he could bring the five-tailed demon down on his own. We are going to have to work together to succeed. Brezhnov…I'm going to need a few of your cannons…"
Athellenas proceeded to outline his plan to take down Fel-Ungrroth to his commanders, particularly to Brezhnov and Anesti. They would both be instrumental.
"Of course, this is only after we manage to breach the wall and break the back of the enemy horde. If we can do that…" Athellenas's voice trailed off.
There was silence for a few seconds before Paladin Anesti spoke up once more. "I have reservations about your plan, Warmaster…but I believe it is a sound one."
"Anything that involves my guns blowing the dickens out of Zamorak's meatbags is a good plan in my eyes," Sir Brezhnov said gruffly. "I'll see to it."
"I believe that concludes things here," Athellenas announced finally. "Our boys have been marching through the hot sun all day; I will not send them into battle in this condition. Have your men set up camp and turn in for the night. Eat a good dinner. At first light tomorrow morning…we attack. Dismissed."
"Warmaster!" all of the commanders bowed their heads and clasped their fists to their hearts in a salute, then turned on their heels and headed down the ridge to the valley below, where the soldiers were encamped.
Athellenas remained alone at the edge of the ridge, observing the monster-infested wall. He decided that it would be best to open with a customary artillery barrage, then send one of the legions forward with a battering ram. They could force the gates open.
The angles of the gate in relation to the 1st Element's position made it very difficult for Brezhnov's long-range mortar cannon to line up a shot that could hit the gates, so the job would have to be done the old-fashioned way. Make no mistake, though; that gate would fall. The monsters may have managed to take it from the Menaphites, but they had not yet faced off with the Centralian legions.
When Brezhnov's men arrived on the ridge with their wagons and equipment and began to set up the trebuchets, Athellenas took his leave. He returned to the rapidly-forming army camp of the 1st Element, found Onyx, and quickly set up his tent. The Warmaster climbed into his bedroll and shut his eyes, waiting for the calming darkness of sleep to claim him.
It was going to be a big day tomorrow.
"Forward! Forward!" Athellenas drew his runite blade, holding it up to the sky. The sword flashed cyan as the light of the rising sun caught it. The men of the IV Legion quickened their pace until they were advancing towards the wall at a light jog.
Athellenas rode alongside General Sinclair, leading the attack on the Shantay Pass Wall. Monsters of Zamorak lined the Wall as well, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Athellenas's men. More Saradominist blood to spill.
The earth trembled and the air roared as a storm of flaming comets tore through the sky from above, soaring over the advancing soldiers' heads, and slammed into the Wall. Sir Brezhnov was firing his opening barrage.
Athellenas glanced over to the left. The 1st Element's battering ram was being pushed towards the gate; it was a sight to see. The ram was a large contraption comprising of an armored carriage containing a swinging wooden log, which was capped with adamantite metal. The soldiers called it Reaper.
"General!" Athellenas called over to Sinclair. "Send a man over to the I Legion's advance—tell General Airoh to tighten up his left flank! His boys are getting too spread out!"
General Sinclair didn't even bother replying to Athellenas's order. He simply acted, sending out one of his aides to do the deed.
Another barrage of Brezhnov's very best surprises rumbled through the air, tearing into the Wall. Great chunks of the white rock were torn asunder, flying every which way. Monsters that were in the way were savagely pulped by the flaming projectiles.
The gate began to open suddenly. Athellenas hesitated; he had not been expecting the monsters to sally forth from the wall. It was too late to muster the cavalry—they were too far behind. The infantry was going to have to face the Zamorackians alone.
Well…maybe not completely alone.
"Muster the cannons!" Athellenas bellowed. His command was relayed down the advance until it reached the artillerists, who were pushing the cannons up along with the legions. At the Warmaster's command, the infantry halter while the cannons continued to move up.
While this was happening, a large group of death knights, twisted Human cultists, werewolves, and undead were pouring out of the gate, forming up into a huge horde. More and more monsters were bubbling forth from the gate, joining in the charge forward.
"Archers! To the front!" Athellenas ordered next.
The boiling mass of Zamorackian filth kept on charging across the open sand towards the 1st Element's line. The centurions called for a volley. A loud collective twang was heard as thousands of archers fired their payload at the same time. A cloud of arrows sailed up into the sky before curving back over and shooting straight down into the charging Zamorackian horde.
Dozens of monsters howled in pain as the arrows took them down. Many of the enemy fell…but in the grand scheme of things, the losses incurred by the volley of arrows was painfully dismal.
No problem, though. Arrows weren't the only weapon in Athellenas's arsenal. He had technology on his side.
When the charging horde came within range, the field cannons in Sir Brezhnov's forward gunnery all roared to life. They fired grapeshot—a type of round that fragmented after being fired, turning into a hail of smaller projectiles that, at certain distances, could take down entire crowds of people. Or monsters, in this case.
The grapeshot tore into the horde of monsters, this time dealing horrific damage. Anything that was in the forward fringe of the advance was instantly cut down, and anything behind that did not escape unscathed.
"Reload!" an artillery captain was shouting.
"Archers! Give 'em another one!" Athellenas bellowed.
More arrows whizzed through the sky and into the oncoming tide of monsters, taking down the wounded from the cannon barrage. It didn't stop the rest of the horde, however. They just kept on coming like the tides of the sea, disregarding their dying comrades.
The soldiers all drew their weapons, getting ready for some close-quarters fighting.
The cannons roared again, cutting giant swathes through the monsters…but it still wasn't enough. Athellenas also knew that there wasn't enough time for them to reload before the monsters crashed into them. He hurriedly ordered the artillery to retreat to the ridge, where the heavier field guns had been entrenched.
Athellenas risked a glance upwards towards the Wall and saw that monsters were still pouring out of the gate. There was no end to the beasts…they just kept on coming…
The monsters crashed right into the soldiers' front line of pikemen. The werewolves that had been leading the charge were skewered, but there were dozens more to replace them from behind.
The pikemen abandoned their spears and drew swords, but many were cut down before they could successfully complete the transition between the two weapons. Within a full minute, the tight formations of the three legions of the 1st Element was broken into a massive bloodbath of savage monsters and soldiers desperately fighting for their lives.
Athellenas lost count of how many times he brought his blade cleaving down into a werewolf's skull, or stabbing through a gap in a death knight's armor. The undead were the worst—the only thing that killed them was a blow to the head. Decapitation worked as well, but a secondary blow was required to destroy the severed head, which would still be very much alive. Athellenas, when dealing with undead ghouls, did not decapitate them. He simply lopped off the tops of their heads, destroying the brain. Or at least what had used to be their brain.
Athellenas's rust-red armor was splattered with the blood of the monsters. His shaggy gray beard was soaked through by the time he was able to risk another glance up. The monsters were still coming through the gate, and there were already tens of thousands of beasts arrayed against Athellenas on the battlefield, not to mention the ones that were already mingling with his embattled soldiers.
A loud cracking noise coming from the left attracted Athellenas's attention. He looked over just in time to see Reaper, the 1st Element's battering ram, collapse in a mess of splintered wood and shattered beams. The men pushing it were all dead, butchered by death knights.
Athellenas had just lost his ticket through the Shantay Wall's gate. Any further fighting on this field was now pointless until he could find another way, which left him with only one viable option.
"Sound the retreat!" Athellenas shouted to one of his aides, who was in the process of lopping off the head of an attacking death knight.
"Warmaster?" the aide hadn't quite heard him. Or maybe he had, and he couldn't quite believe the order.
"Sound the retreat!" Athellenas repeated himself, louder this time. "Do it now!"
The aide hesitantly raised his horn to his lips and blew three long notes. Centurions and the generals heard the signal and passed it on. "Fall back! Fall back!"
The cry was taken up by the soldiers themselves. Slowly, gradually, the Centralians broke formation and hurried back towards the ridge where the field hospitals had been erected. Any wounded who were able to travel were carried off. Those who were too far gone were…put out of their misery before the monsters could have their way with them.
The retreat took a full hour. Getting every soldier detached from the fighting was not an easy task, especially with bloodthirsty monsters on their tail every step of the way. The archers were able to keep some of the monsters slowed down with volleys of arrows, but they were not organized, deadly volleys. It was more made of individual archers turning and firing as they ran away.
Athellenas beheaded one last death knight before reining in Onyx and galloping back towards his lines. The majority of the soldiers had gotten themselves settled in the trenches, with only a few hundred more still climbing into safety. Athellenas was one of the last to climb past the trenches.
The very moment the area in front of the trenches was clear, Sir Brezhnov thundered the order to fire all of his cannons.
All of the field gunneries, including the forward gunnery which had been advancing with the legions, shook the ground with their massive reports. Not all of the cannons fired grapeshot, however. Athellenas noticed that some of the shots impacted their targets and detonated in a huge, fiery explosion that vaporized anything within a twenty-foot radius. It was almost frightening how utterly devastating the destructive forces of these cannons were. Almost frightening. When the cannons were on your side, it tended to be more exhilarating.
Soldiers whooped and cheered as the monsters kept trying to breach the impenetrable defense thrown up by the cannonfire, but ended up getting repulsed each time. Finally, there was a loud, bone-shilling roar that came from the other side of the wall. It was a sound only a demon was capable of making. Fel-Ungrroth was giving orders.
Every single monster on the field, still roughly fifteen thousand strong, turned where they stood—or crawled—and fled back in the direction of the Wall.
"Warmaster!" Sir Derren rode up alongside Athellenas as the soldiers continued to voice their jubilation at still being alive. "Casualty figures are coming in as we speak. Last I heard, IV Legion suffered about-"
"I don't want to hear it, Derren," Athellenas cut his second-in-command off. "This battle is not yet over; the figures will only increase. We've just lost our battering ram, which was our only way through that damn gate…" Athellenas, even as he spoke, was beginning to formulate a backup plan In his mind. All he could think of were the huge explosions of the cannon rounds on the field… he still needed a way to the gate unmolested, however, which was impossible without the battering ram. Unless…
"Call another council of war," Athellenas ordered Sir Derren. "I think it's high time we rethink our strategy."