The hour was growing past "late" and into "early" when Galen was woken by the barbarian's none-too-gentle nudging.
- "Your turn, blood brother. I'm going back to my bedroll."
The paladin grunted as he got up and began putting on his brigandine.
- "Why did you not wake me to join you on your shift?"
- "Because I knew you'd much prefer the pretty blonde's company over mine," Ko'kal replied. "I'll leave you two to share the last watch."
- "Any trouble during yours?" Galen asked as he fastened his sword belt's buckle.
- "It's a quiet night. So much for the corpse-mage's foreboding."
- "Can't be too careful", the paladin retorted, but his companion was already curling up in his furs, signaling the end of the conversation.
Stepping out into the brisk night air finished waking him up. He headed towards the tent the two ladies in the party shared, catching out of the corner of his eye the changing of the guard. Crawling into the small space of the tent, he paused next to the amazon.
A now familiar feeling of fondness stirred in him as he looked upon her sleeping form; her long, sharp features were softer now, almost girlish in the unguarded peace of slumber. The stream of her golden hair splashed lazily around her head and down her back, framing her in a picture of still beauty that he was loath to disturb. That picture was quickly dispelled as she mumbled and shifted to a decidedly less ladylike sleeping position, her limbs splayed haphazardly around her. Galen chuckled to himself and gently nudged the amazon awake.
- "Care to join me on a moonlit walk on the beach, milady?" he whispered.
She opened one bleary eye that looked up at him reproachfully.
- "Liar," she whispered back. "You're just trying to trick me into guard duty."
- "I mean, the beach in question is a thousand miles wide and we will have grumpy guardsmen for company, not to mention the constant threat of death, but I'm told I'm a good conversationalist."
- "We really need to work on your courtship when this is all done," she replied with two light taps to his cheek as she got up to fetch her scale mail.
Dana had donned her full war gear when they joined the rest of the guard, though neither of them wore their helms; they couldn't afford to impede their hearing during their vigil, especially in a dark desert where the only sources of light were fading watchfires and the dim light of a waning moon.
The night was still and quiet, broken up only by the sound of their own footsteps in the sand and the occasional snoring crossbowman they had to reprimand. The two slowly fell behind the guardsmen as they walked the perimeter of the wagons, both eager for some time alone; there was precious little privacy in a wagon train.
- "I was having a nice dream when you woke me up with your promises of moonlit beaches," the amazon piped up. "I dreamt I was back on the home isles, swimming in the Great Ocean. You better make it up to me when we reach Lut Gholein."
- "I would love to," he answered a bit too swiftly, which made her smirk. "I…I too miss the sea," he continued, trying to qualify his enthusiasm. "I grew up on the docks of Westmarch. But I'm afraid it will take us about a week before we reach the shore, at least according to Warriv. Lots more nights on watch."
- "I'm used to it. Half of my time living as a mercenary with Lydia was spent protecting merchant caravans. But such things are below a gallant knight like yourself, I wager," she finished with false obsequiousness.
- "Actually, the very first paladins were glorified bodyguards," he countered. Her only response was a quizzical look, so he decided to elaborate. "The west was far less civilized at the time; priests sent there to spread the word of Akarat were unaccustomed to the rigors of travel and often fell victim to savages, bandits and monsters. That is why the Zakarum church trained holy men in the art of battle and sent them to escort their fellow missionaries on their journeys. These Protectors of the Word ended up being better at proselytizing than the men they were tasked to defend."
- "Of course they were," she replied with unexpected venom. "A gauntleted fist is more compelling than an open hand."
- "You misunderstand," he protested. "Their heroic deeds were simply more inspiring than the priests' sermons. Not one of them would ever have abided the use of violence to spread the faith. It would go against the very principles of Akarat."
- "That didn't stop their successors when they cut down any who would not bend the neck to their vaunted church. Where were those principles when Askari mercenaries across the lands were butchered for refusing to forsake the gods of their ancestors? My grandmother lost her sisters to the rabid dogs of the Inquisition."
The silence of the night reasserted itself as the amazon regained her composure. Her voice had come out stronger than she had intended; not the hallmark of a good sentry.
- "I'm so sorry, Dana," Galen said earnestly, his head bowed. "I know your people suffered at the hands of mine. My creed has much to answer for."
The amazon stopped and grabbed him by the arm.
- "No, I'm the one who should apologize," she rejoined. "You are not to blame for any of it. Kurast has spread much hatred in the world of late."
- "It was not always so, you know," he sighed wistfully. "For a thousand years the church of Zakarum stood as an example of goodness and virtue to all mankind, yet something changed at the turn of this century; a darkness crept into the heart of the High Council. That's what my grandfather used to say. Or it may be that the corruption started even earlier, as the enlightenment of an ascetic became the state religion of an empire and faith was tainted by politics. I have thought long and hard on the matter, yet I'm no closer to an answer. Perhaps…if we triumph against Diablo and manage to save the world, I will go to Kurast to find the truth of it, and, Heaven willing, redemption for my long-lost brethren."
She looked him in the eyes, her gaze now much warmer.
- "If anyone can do it, it's you," she declared.
- "If…" he repeated, doubt still clouding his features. "Even if I survive our current quest, how much of a difference can one man do alone?"
- "You won't be alone," she asserted, placing her hand on his shoulder.
The doubt dissipated as mist before the sunrise and he beamed at her; even in the dim light she could see the familiar warm smile and honest eyes. She was growing terribly fond of them. He was about to express his gratitude when she placed a finger on his lips. He felt himself turn red, though thankfully she could not tell, yet when he searched her face for an explanation, he did not find the playful, seductive gaze he was expecting. Instead, her eyes were fierce and alert, scanning the dunes behind him.
- "Trouble," was the only thing she said before she took out her bow, knocked an arrow and fired in one swift motion. There was a yelp in the distance, and at once the night exploded with guttural shrieks and feral growls, interspersed with the sound of shattering glass and the flash of alchemical fire upon some of the wagons.
- "To arms! TO ARMS!" the paladin yelled at the top of his lungs as he drew his sword and faced down what looked like a swarm of shadows rushing in.
The roar of charging foes and spreading fires was joined by the shouts of men and the twang of crossbows as the guardsmen sprang into action. Pikemen formed a frontline while the rest of the camp stirred to answer the call to battle, but the enemy was already closing in on all fronts.
Dana's bow sang. One of the arbalists perched atop the wagons fell down at her feet, a javelin through his neck. The attackers were almost upon them, and she could see now they were wiry creatures, easily as tall as the barbarian, dressed in tattered bits of cloth and armor; but their most striking features were their four sinewy arms, each of which wielded a bladed weapon of some kind. She had fought these things before. The locals called them sand raiders. Among them were also bipedal felines which she recognized as Lacuni, an intelligent species of cat people who were said to descend from the amazons, though she never put much stock in that particular legend. She put away her bow and picked up her spear, adding it to the row of jagged steel just as the enemy crashed into it.
The first line of foes ended up impaled, but more swarmed on top of their bodies as the pikemen desperately tried to fend them off while the crossbowmen continued to thin the herd as best they could. More guards also joined the fray, but it was a trickle compared to the flood of assailants.
The human formation was beginning to buckle when they felt a sudden surge of strength as the paladin's golden aura enveloped them, and they pushed back with renewed vigor. Said paladin was busy deflecting attacks while scoring crippling or fatal slashes with each counterstroke; though his opponents had four times as many weapons as he did, he was much faster and his blows much stronger, allowing him to redirect every strike into an awkward angle that provided him with an opening. Still the creatures kept coming, and he could hear screams coming from the other side of the wagon fort, where little defense had had time to muster.
- "Dana!" he shouted and the amazon turned to him. "They're breaking through on the south side! Go! I'll hold the line here!"
The amazon merely nodded and bolted back towards the camp, leaping over a wagon's driver seat without breaking her stride. Pandemonium reigned within as disheveled men-at-arms rushed to defend the perimeter against what must have seemed to them a waking nightmare. The southern side had been breached, with sabre-wielding Lacuni swarming the wagons while others of their kind remained perched on top to throw javelins and vials of poison or liquid fire. Many wagons were ablaze, and the flames were spreading fast.
Thankfully Ko'kal was already there with a handful of guards, cutting down the sabre cats that made it in. Even when his wide axe swings missed their nimble targets, they still held them at bay. A vial exploded at his feet and a rancid cloud engulfed him and his allies, who began coughing and sputtering. One guard rand out of the cloud and was immediately set upon by the Lacuni warriors, who tore him to pieces, but as they did so the barbarian emerged with a roar, spinning his battle-axe in a great whirling arc that dispersed the toxic vapor and cleaved the felines two at a time. A javelin struck him then, then another, though neither could punch through both layers of lamellar and mail armor. More javelins began raining down, felling another one of the guardsmen, but Dana was already there, her arrows finding their mark as she began shooting the peltasts off the wagons.
The northman barely had time to recover when an exploding potion burst on his helmet, burning the left side of his face. His cry of pain turned to fury as his good eye searched for the offender and landed on a perched slinger cat who was already preparing to throw another vial. The damned thing was too far to reach in a single leap. Ko'kal pulled his arm back before throwing his axe with all his might. The double-bladed weapon spun through the air and embedded itself in the slinger's skull. Seeing him unarmed, two more Lacuni charged at the barbarian, yet he merely smiled and raised his hand. They were about to reach him when the axe came whistling back, decapitating the first cat before he caught it and used the momentum to swing it around and deliver a huge chopping blow that bisected the second in midair.
Meanwhile, Galen was struggling to hold the line as more of his allies fell to the relentless onslaught. A backhanded sickle tried to relieve him of his head, but he ducked low, stepped left and parried the scimitar that followed it, deflecting it downwards and into the third and fourth incoming strikes. His opponent barely had time to register its guard was now completely open before a rising slash with Providence's false edge took its throat. Another jumped to replace its fallen comrade, but the paladin was already batting away its initial attacks, knocking it off-balance. It swung its two lower swords desperately but Galen stepped into the attack, causing the creature's arms to bounce harmlessly on his armor as he thrust Providence into its gut. Before he could free his blade yet another raider pounced, and he could only block one strike on his vambrace while another slashed his upper arm and a third tried to pierce his brigandine unsuccessfully. He pulled his sword free and severed two appendages in the same motion, then parried two more and cut his assailant from neck to groin, blood splashing his already crimson-stained armor.
Two more creatures were already upon him, and more behind them. He realized the guards to his immediate right and left were dead. He stood alone in a breach, trying to hold off a flurry of steel without giving ground. The position was untenable, and he knew it.
- "Fall back to the camp! FALL BACK!" he called.
Sparing but a glance to make sure he had been heard, he advanced upon the enemy in a burst of zeal, his blade flashing like lightning, disarming, slashing, maiming, hewing down one raider, then another, then a third. But always there were more, and he was not coming out of the exchange unscathed, though his armor got the worst of it. He didn't know how long he could keep up the pressure, but he had to give his remaining men time to retreat into the wagon fort. Parry, counter, block, bind, thrust, deflect, redirect, hack; blow after blow he pushed himself harder, felling foe after foe, driving deeper into their lines.
Taken aback by his initial onslaught, the creatures now recovered and surrounded him on all sides, cutting off any chance of escape. Three of them were about to attack him from behind when a spray of ghostly streaks tore through the air and into their exposed backs. Galen turned to find the necromancer standing on a supply wagon with a trio of feline skeletons rushing to his aid. Talia stood to his side, her arms open, her head turned skyward, her eyes closed in deep concentration.
- "To us, Zakarumite!" Cyrus shouted as he loosed another volley of ectoplasmic fangs.
The foe currently engaged with the paladin attempted to take advantage of his distraction by hacking down on his unarmored head, but Galen caught the blade with his own, bound it with his crossguard and turned it downwards before smashing his pommel into the creature's face and delivering a powerful kick to its midriff that sent it crashing back into its allies. Using the space created the paladin disengaged, pushing past the wounded attackers behind him with a mighty shove as the Lacuni skeletons engaged those who tried to stop him. As he ran, he felt drops of rain hit his face, and he realized the air was getting colder…much colder. With a dash and a leap, he had reached his companions.
- "Alright, I believe you now," he told Cyrus.
The latter did not respond as he raised his eerily glowing hands with great effort, as though he were lifting some great weight. His minions were already being hacked down as the four-armed creatures rushed the wagons. Suddenly, the ribs of some long dead gigantic beast burst from the sands, impaling the foremost raiders and blocking the way forward for the rest.
- "That won't hold them for long!" the necromancer warned with a sidelong glance towards the sorceress.
The young woman in question opened her eyes, and they shone with a cold blue light. The soft rain turned into snow, and the snow soon turned into hail. A fierce, chilling wind picked up and blew the blizzard into the ranks of the enemy, the pieces of hail growing larger until they were shards of jagged ice. The monstrous army wavered under the magical assault, their numbers decimated by the ceaseless battering of bitter frost. It must have seemed a strange and terrible sight to these desert dwellers, Galen mused as he turned to look at Talia appreciatively; he saw her swoon under the strain of her own spell and he caught her before she collapsed.
- "Sorry," she said in a thin voice. "Using ice magics in this arid climate really takes it out of me."
- "You're a miracle worker," he rejoined with a hint of awe, and she noticed for the first time that the blue of his eyes was somehow warm.
Then he closed them in meditation. Bemused, the sorceress wondered what he was playing at when his aura turned the color of a summer sea as it enveloped her. She felt a sudden rush within her, as though the light shone and echoed in depths she never suspected. There was something familiar about the sensation. It was her well of spiritual energies, replenishing. For most arcane users, it is a trickle. For a prodigy like her, it is a stream. But now, it was a dizzying torrent that left her lightheaded, and she was glad she was still clinging to the paladin.
- "Well," she stated, "I think you and I are going to be fast friends."
- "Hmm," Cyrus interjected as he looked at his own body aglow with the same light. "Useful. But let's not tarry, they're already reforming for another assault."
- "Let's regroup with the others," Galen agreed.
The necromancer tarried just long enough to cast another spell; dark energies coalesced around the dead bodies on the battlefield, and they began to rapidly decay, emitting a sickly green vapor that spread across the carnage. With a flick of his wrist, he blew the roiling poisonous mist into the advancing raiders.
With that, he followed the other two into the wagon fort, where men-at-arms were crowding the noncombatants into the center to keep them away from the fight. The draft animals were less lucky; tied as they were, they were easy prey for the Lacuni. Only a few managed to break free, stampeding their way past a burned down wagon and into the night. Dana and Ko'kal were holding their own, but enemies were now swarming on every front.
- "To me, men!" the paladin cried. "Reform the lines around the camp!"
- "Pikes in front, crossbows behind!" Dana joined in as she helped muster the remaining guards.
The troops rushed to form a ring to protect the rest of the caravan huddling together in terror. The Lacuni already within the wagon fort tried to pounce on the retreating pikemen but the barbarian was there, holding them at bay with great sweeps of his axe that slew any that dared come close. The cats began flanking him, hoping to overwhelm him with numbers, but just as they closed in, a dread aspect came over his features and he unleashed a war cry of such ferocity and magnitude that the Lacuni's hairs stood on end and they instinctively fled from him. Shouldering is axe, he spit on the ground in front of him before nonchalantly rejoining his allies with a cocky grin.
- "Don't prepare the roast before you've hunted the boar," the amazon chided. "This isn't over."
As if to confirm her words, the night echoed with the sound of crashing wood as the enemy broke through parts of the wagon fort and stalked forward, howling with bloodlust. The human line braced, ready to hold as long as nerve and sinew allowed, or else sell their lives dearly.
- "Talia, stay with the backline," Galen ordered as his aura shifted back to gold, illuminating the men around him.
- "I can still do this much," the sorceress retorted and began whispering into the top of her staff, which glowed red.
Embers flew from it and floated on the wind; in a flash the humans' steel burned the same red, a sorcerous flame blazing around pikes, bolts and Ko'kal's axe. Even Dana's spear raged with a fiercer fire than usual. Only the paladin's sword remained unaffected, the spell fizzling against its blade as the magic was nullified by Charsi's enchantment.
- "I feel left out," he complained, but Talia merely shrugged and made her way to the back of the formation.
The crossbowmen began picking off the lead attackers, and many were felled before they could even close the gap. Those who made it were met with a wall of burning steel, yet still they threw themselves at it with savage glee, as though their victory were inexorable. The blood of man and monster mingled in the sand, but every time the human line buckled one of Andariel's slayers was there, devastating the foe with martial or magical skill.
The arbalists were putting a bolt through any Lacuni slinger that tried to climb the wagons for a clear shot at their lines, but as more of their comrades in the frontline fell, many of them were forced to drop their crossbows and join the fray with swords or maces drawn. A couple of cats made it up and threw noxious vials at the melee, indiscriminately hitting friend and foe alike. The pikemen who were hit fell back out of the cloud retching, trying to escape the poison.
- "Hold the line!" Galen cried as he rushed to close off the breach, heedless of the toxic vapors. "Hold!"
Dana saw the slingers preparing another volley, this one aimed at the unarmed folk in the center. Among them was the boy who had gawked at her earlier, clinging to Warriv who was doing his best to shield the lad. She pulled back, planted her spear in the ground and took out her bow, but when she reached for her quiver it was empty. It had been a long night, and she had used up all her arrows. Acting quickly, she aimed her bow and touched her fingers upon a rune carved into its side; as she drew back the string, the rune flashed and an arrow of pure, crystallized magic was manifested across the string's trajectory. She let loose at one of the cats just as it was about to throw a fulminating potion. The magic missile hit the vial and it exploded, immolating both the Lacuni in chemical fire.
On the other side of the defensive ring peltasts were also climbing atop wagons to throw javelins, but they were met with fireballs and lightning bolts from Talia's staff. When they tried to retaliate a shadow fell upon their eyes as Cyrus uttered a blinding curse upon the wind.
The enemy was relentless, crashing in waves upon the beleaguered defenders, yet still the latter held firm. The sky grew pale as the monsters continued their assault, but no matter how many bodies they threw at the human formation it would not break. Still, it was slowly being forced to yield ground as men died and the ring grew smaller.
Between dispatching foes Galen spied one of the raiders hanging back, barking orders at its kin as it moved forward with a cadre of warriors. It was bigger, and it wore more elaborate armor, at least compared to the patchwork leathers of the others. Its eyes reflected the vicious fire that burned across its four scimitars. Its gaze met with the paladin's, and a silent challenge passed between the two. Both sides were depleted and exhausted, and both of them knew it. The last push would decide it, one way or another.
Just then the sun peeked from behind the horizon, and there was a brief lull in the fighting as something shifted in the air. Galen found a second wind with the day's return; he raised Providence to the sky as he glared at the leader of the raiders and yelled in victory. His blade caught the sun's first rays, and the rest of the humans took up the cry, shouting with renewed defiance. Their collective roar shook the morning air. The issue of the battle was now a foregone conclusion in their eyes.
The remaining monsters stepped back over the corpses of their fallen, fear gripping their hearts irrevocably. Like a herd on the plains they fled in unison, as if moved by a common survival instinct. The chief raider watched his minions desert him with a mix of anger and disbelief; even his bodyguard were joining the rout, trying to drag him along. He pulled back reluctantly, though not before turning one last hateful glance at the paladin.
The retreating monsters received a parting salvo of missiles and spells, as well as jeers and cheers, but despite their bravado the defenders were too exhausted to give chase. As their enemy vanished into the sands their clamor died down, and they were left standing in the bloody aftermath of their ruined camp. Over half of their number had fallen, and those left standing were in scarcely better shape. Many of the wagons lay burned or broken, the draft animals that pulled them butchered or fled. They had survived the night, but now the day ahead seemed almost as daunting.
