After sharing a meal in the fort's mess hall the three friends returned to the barracks. Gathering their things they once again stepped into the courtyard. The glowing fungus on the cavern ceiling high above them had dimmed slightly, indicating the end of the day. Most of the garrison was asleep, the only soldier's in sight were manning the wall or standing post at various points throughout the fort. Across the courtyard they spotted Dannica emerging from the fort shrine, and Trent already waited closer to the gate.
"Good luck. I'll be ssseeing you sssoon," Seth said, nodding to his two companions.
"Till then Seth. Play nice with the other soldier's while we're out," Markham grinned wryly at him. Scratch murmured a farewell in his own tongue. With a nod to the bigger Slith and a rueful grunt for the ranger, Seth turned and made for the steps leading up onto the fort's battlements.
Markham glanced back at the priestess who, after returning his sour look, marched over to stand beside Trent. He sighed in resignation and glanced at Scratch.
The big lizard shrugged.
"Nothing for it. Ssstabbing a priessstesss iss bad luck."
Markham smiled at that.
"Yeah well let's get this over with I guess."
The two friends hefted their bags and trudged over to their two waiting companions. Markham carried his sword sheathed at his waist, his hand gently resting on the pommel, and his bow unstrung and strapped to his back with the quiver of arrows. Scratch carried his long spear over his shoulder and a larger quiver containing three long javelins strapped to his back. Both carried their packs as well, not unused to the load as neither were strangers to traveling through the tunnels.
As they walked up Markham examined Dannica and Trent with a critical eye. The priestess wore a pack similar to him on her back and was now wearing a good traveling cloak over her mail and robes. Her sword and mace were once again strapped to her waist and she stood gazing at him imperiously, her nose raised just enough that she managed to look down on him despite being the shorter between them.
Trent wore his worn blue robes with a fine leather belt cinching them at the waste. Arrayed around the belt was an assortment of pouches, likely containing all the bare necessities of his trade. Herbs, powders, human ears… whatever it was mages used. Across his shoulder was slung a leather sack and his bedroll was rolled around the strap.
Nodding in satisfaction Markham looked at them both and forced a grin.
"Ready to get dirty?"
Dannica sniffed. Trent merely nodded, the serious expression never leaving his face. Scratch eyed them both warily.
Markham felt his forced good cheer ebbing away and sighed in defeat.
"Great. Let's head out then."
The ranger took the lead as the group headed for the fort's heavy gate of wood reinforced with iron. As they got closer Markham noticed one of the men standing guard at the entrance was one of Brent's unlucky companions from earlier in the day, the one Scratch had sent flying. Seeing the group walking toward him the man scowled at the Slith and the ranger, his dislike for them brought sharply into focus by the fact that he was standing his second watch for the day.
"Going out lizard lover?" the man growled.
"That's the rumor," the ranger replied tersely.
"If you don't get eaten hurry back. Me and the boys wanna have a talk with ya."
"Hopefully it goes better for you than the last one. I doubt it though… Hey you should check into work as a human javelin. Might be a good alternative since this whole soldiering thing is a bit much for you."
The man opened his mouth with an angry reply but his words were choked off with a wet gasp as the arrow punched into his throat and pinned him to the wooden gate.
This turn of events came as something of a shock to the ranger and for a moment he could only gape at the man, who was choking on his own blood, eyes wide with panic.
Then another arrow whistled past his ear, thudding into the gate next to the dying man, and Markham whipped around in time to see dozens of Nephilim pouring out of the fort's storerooms.
The cat men were shorter than men for the most part, generally no taller than five and a half feet. Usually lean creatures, they weren't particularly strong as a rule, but they were fast and had a knack for killing at a distance. The specimens spilling out of the storeroom were a ragged bunch, their fur filthy and matted. Most were naked save for a loincloth but here and there was a leather jerkin. For weapons they carried crude swords made of stone, or brass and wooden clubs. However in the back there were several archers firing cavewood bows with deadly accuracy and as the fighters rushed toward whatever soldier's they could find they unleashed a hail of darts and javelins that brought down a half dozen men in the first few seconds of the fight.
"To arms! Grab your weapons and get to killing boys! The kitties want to play," Sergeant Horn emerged from his quarters near the barracks in his coat of chain mail, his sword and shield ready.
"Rally around me!"
One of the guard's shouted something into the barracks and soldiers began spilling out the door. Some armored and some half naked and wiping sleep from their eyes. Soon Horn had a good dozen men around him. Waiting for more to emerge from the barracks, he formed his men into a defensive line.
"Shield wall! Get in line you fuckers. They're coming!" The soldiers around him stumbled into ranks. Shields coming up and overlapping with the men on their right.
The Nephil wasted no time in closing the distance and soon a howling, hissing, spitting wall of fur clashed with the waiting shields of the Avernite soldiers. Screams and the sounds of dying men and nephilim filled the air as the soldiers struggled to hold their line against the raging cat men.
Wasting no time Markham pulled his bow from his back and with quick, practiced movements restrung it. As he worked he saw several of the cats run up the stairs and engage the men on the walls. Two came at Brent and at first it looked like he'd be overrun, but with a bellow of anger the man slammed his shield into a cat's face, splintering bones and spraying his shield with blood before stabbing under the shield rim and into the cat's chest with his sword. Then Seth was beside him, a reptilian roar escaping him that startled the closest cat. Then he was pushing them back down from the wall, stabbing with his short spear.
One cat seeing the big Slith coming, chose instead to look for an easier target and leapt off the battlements, it's bronze blade held high for an overhand chop at Dannica's head. The priestess was too fast though. She quickly stepped back and as the Nephil landed in front of her she whipped her curved blade out of it's sheath and in a smooth movement brought it up to parry the cat's blade upward, then brought hers back down in a viscous slash that cut deep into her attackers face and chest, cleaving through flesh and bone. Pulling the red blade free she let the corpse fall, drew her mace, and charged after Scratch who was making a beeline for a line of Nephil archers who stood behind the main melee firing arrows into some of the soldiers scattered around the fort.
One of the archers saw the big Slith and priestess coming and turned his bow toward the charging pair, an arrow ready to fly straight for Scratch's chest.
"Scratch! Down!"
Hearing Markham's warning Scratch dropped into a roll just as an arrow flashed from behind him and into the eye of the Nephil archer, who instantly collapsed dead, the arrow he'd knocked streaking off wildly and bounced off of the dirt of the courtyard floor.
Scratch's roll brought him the last few feet to the group of archer's and with a loud roar he came up to his feet, his spear held horizontally, and he shoved the closest cat in the gut, lifting the surprised Nephilim into the air to crash into a nearby wall with a bone jarring thud. As the cat collapsed, the other Nephil archers turned their full attention on the massive Slith. Too late, they realized the other threat closing on them in the form of Dannica, who was suddenly among them, weapons moving in a blur.
Stepping in she jabbed the butt of her mace into a cat's face sending it reeling back, clutching the ruined remains of it's nose. With her sword she parried another cat's stabbing blade. Stepping in closer to the yowling creature she parried another stroke then brought her mace down right between it's ears shattering it's skull in an explosion of blood, brain, and shards of bone.
Another arrow came in from behind her taking an archer in the neck and she risked a glance behind her, seeing Markham reaching for another arrow which he sent streaking into the ranks of the cat's attacking Horn and the other soldier's. Turning back to the business at hand she saw Scratch spit another archer on his two-tined spear, the two sharp points ripping out the back of the Nephil's chest, splattering blood on the last archer behind it. The cat turned to run, deciding to fight another day, when it was suddenly engulfed in magical flames.
Seeing the archer's were no more, Trent moved slowly toward the Nephilim smashing against Horn's shield wall. Though the men were holding, their situation was desperate. The cat's had succeeded in pushing them back to the point where they were almost against the wall and they had bottled up the other soldiers in the barracks, cutting off any reinforcements. Trent sent streak after streak of fire into the mass of Nephil. The effect was immediate. The cat's that were hit immediately went up in flames, their matted fur only serving to fuel the magical fire. Yowling in panic, they tried to run but blinded by pain they only managed to cause chaos, running into their comrades and spreading the flames.
One of the flaming cat's managed to get turned around and ran screaming back toward the storerooms when suddenly it was knocked flat to the ground by a shield. Standing in front of it was Captain Vidican, still dressed in her pants and tunic but with her two rapier's ready. Two soldiers came with her, including the one that had knocked down the fleeing cat. Stepping to the side of the downed cat Vidican slit it's throat with a flick of her left hand and then lead the two soldiers in a charge into the rear of the remaining nephilim.
"To me! To me soldier's of Avernum! The cat's are breaking!"
Her battle cry was a little premature. Though the Nephil's attack had stalled they were still putting up a fierce fight. Finding enemies closing in from all sides the fighting only became more desperate as they realized their avenue of escape had been cut off. In the middle was a large cat spitting commands in a high-pitched feline voice as it strove against Horn's men with an iron hatchet and short sword. Vidican pushed further into the Nephil ranks, Scratch and Dannica beside her, and arrows still flashing in from Markhams position to the left. The big cat managed to hook the hatchet on one of the soldier's shield rim and with a viscious yank shoved the shield downward, clearing the way for the short sword which came stabbing in over the top and into the man's unarmored chest.
And then the sound of chanting filled the courtyard as Warren and the other magi came pouring out of the mage chambers. Muttering words of power, Warren raised his hand and several bolts of lightning flashed from his outstretched fingers with an earsplitting crack, hurling several of the Nephil back with smoking holes in their chests.
With a shout the remaining men of Horn's shield wall pushed forward, cutting down the cat's that had been holding the entrance to the barracks. Immediately men began charging out of the building and into the fray. Seeing that the fight was lost the Nephilim champion tried to lead a desperate charge back toward the storeroom only to find Vidican and the other's blocking their way. Grim faced, the red haired Captain came at the big cat, rapier's flashing. For a moment the two exchanged a furious series of thrusts and parries. Finally Vidican, seeing an opening, stepped in and brought a blade pommel into the cat's face. Her other hand darted in, plunging a gleaming blade into her opponent's chest, soon joined by it's twin. With a growl she brought her foot up to the dead Nephil's chest and viciously kicked and pulled, bringing her blades out with a loud sucking sound.
With their leader down, the remaining cat's tried to flee in a panic and were cut down in short order. The last brought down by Horn who took it's head clean off with a sweep of his broadsword.
Everyone stood still for a moment, panting from the exertion of the fight and surveying the scene of carnage around them. The fort's courtyard was littered with bodies, blood and gore soaked the dirt, and the moans of the wounded and dying echoed off the walls eerily.