A Knight's Lilies

“They crashed through the undergrowth as quickly as they could. The flickering of Minerva’s holy shield only grew increasingly erratic the deeper they went. They needed to reach the nexus before her energy failed them. Gunmar could scarcely imagine a worse fate than what had almost befallen Lutzon. The dwarf carelessly charged too far ahead and when the party caught up, he was in the middle of being torn limb from limb by tendrils that had snuck up from the undergrowth to restrain him. Only through the judicious use of fire and divine magic were they able to free him. In this curse tainted land, they needed to faster. ”

- The Adventures of Gunmar and Aurelia: Song of the Forsaken - Chapter 16: Horns of the Sacrificed

Thunk.

The volley of arrows slammed against their shields as more stones sailed overhead. The catapults were hard at work even as they made themselves the targets of imperial ire.

“Return fire!” A guard sergeant shouted.

City guards, mercenaries and adventurers popped over the parapets and quickly let loose their own volley of projectiles. With a hefty fwip, Daren’s own arrow was let loose. He watched as it sailed down towards the advancing legionaries before spearing two soldiers through a gap between their shields.

Much like his own projectile, those of the adventurer’s generally had their own modified weapons, allowing them to cause sustained casualties against the attackers. Whereas their mercenary counterparts tended to rely on standardized equipment. Most of their bolts found purchase against imperial shields and occasionally against Imperial soldiers. And with every charge, the imperials get closer.

Briefly looking to his left, he could tell the frontline was much the same. All across Abenstadt, thousands of arrows, siege projectiles and spells were being exchanged as a new day only meant renewed attempts by the Traxian army to attack.

“Take cover!” Someone else shouted.

Like clockwork, militia shieldbearers rushed forward with their thick square shields raised. Daren and the other archers ducked behind them as an Imperial volley clattered against the walls.

“Incoming! Watch out!” A shrill voice cried out.

A few defenders held onto the shoulders of the shieldbearers in front of them to help them brace for the volley.

Before Daren could even breath, the men and women to his left simply vaporized as a trebuchet shot slammed against the wall, ripping flesh and bone with rock and stone apart as bits of debris sprayed at him. Horrified, he took a moment to compose himself. He gave the militiaman ahead of him a reassuring nod, the trooper’s terrified expression surpassing even his own. But they had to be ready. Such is life under siege. Luck, huh, luck plays as much of a role as the skill of those fighting. What rubbish. Another shoulder length to the right and we would’ve been the one’s gone.

“Over there! Imp ladders!” A guardsman shouted a warning.

“Shields down! Return fire!” The sergeant from earlier called out.

As the militiamen ducked and backed away for the archers, Daren could see them.

Across the field, shielded imperial formations were surging forward carrying ladders, hooks, and various pieces of climbing equipment. That’s suicide! Abenstadt’s walls are beyond them! He grit his teeth, whatever the case, they were attacking and needed to be stopped.

“Ready! Aim!” Another sergeant directed them.

Daren joined the others as they aimed at the advancing imperial columns, locking onto a solider in the third rank. Cut the formation in half.

“Fire!”

His fingers felt the brush of the bowstring as it slapped forward. The arrow sailed past his face and towards the soldiers. It struck true, the arrow threading an opening between the shields and sending the soldier tumbling. His fall opened up the lines, the crossbow bolts slammed into the gap and more of the imperials dropped to the ground.

Up, shoot, retreat, duck. Repeat. One, two… nine more times. Then they were cycled off, allowing others to take their place on the walls. Nine more lives taken by his hand and dozens more caused by their loss. Only then did the imperials begin staggering their attacks, the initial momentum buoyed by the realities of a siege. For the adventurers like Daren, it meant their part in the defence was over for now. The assault had been blunted enough that the ducal militia could now take over.

Armed and equipped with their own weapons. Most of the ones located here, at the Adveturers Guild headquarters tended to have more advanced equipment that had either been enchanted or modded. It meant their potential as shock troops or elite defenders were best employed to either carve a hole in the imperial ranks ro eliminate high value targets. But their weapons and ammo didn’t come cheap, and though the Grand Duchy of Abenstadt was rich, even when their capital was threatened, it seemed the duke didn’t want to spend all his assets at once.

Not that Daren minded, he and most of the guilders had already agreed to help hold the city. It was a second home of sorts, one that they would very much like to see out of imperial control. Though the city itself was already a fortress in its own right. Towering fortress walls, thick battlements a dozen people wide and dozens of towers guarded the approaches, interspersed with dozens more places for catapults and trebuchets. Even if a handful had been destroyed in the siege so far, Daren guessed that the Duchy had more than they let anyone know in spare.

The city rumbled as another round of siege projectiles slammed against it. Responding in kind, the defenders launched their own furious volley. Daren could only imagine the damage they had inflicted in return. If there was one thing the Grand Duke spent extravagantly on, it was his defences, his mercenaries, and sponsoring magitech workshops throughout the city. Though many of the catapults were relatively mundane, more than a few were using magical explosives supplied by those workshops. Deadly weapons whereupon the shield projectile would have a small fireball or equivalent explosive core embedded into it. When the projectile would hit, it would activate the ensorcelled core and shatter the stone or projectile. Against buildings, it was woefully pitiful. But against oncoming infantry, a guaranteed way of halting advances.

Thunderous booms echoed throughout the city. Ah, the dwarven cannons. What magnificent marvels. He had only seen them twice before. Once with his party, ‘The Verdant Blades’ while they were touring the city. The next had been early in the siege. Upon a rampart where they unleashed a ferocious volley against key targets threatening the city, leaving them nothing but craters of splinters, blood and bone.

The city used them sparingly, never keeping them in one place. Only rolling them out when they had identified something akin to a siege tower or had sighted siege weapons within range. As they had since the siege of Abenstadt began, it likely meant that today’s imperial advances were over, a tower or key weapon having just been exploded into bits.

Daren sighed and relaxed a little. And so today’s attacks end, just to begin again tomorrow. Just when the hells will these bastards finally give up? He just tried to ignore the screams of pain from those less fortunate than he was.

The next two weeks came and went much the same. Wall duty, repel an attack, rest until tomorrow. It had already been two months since the siege began and while supplies were fine, morale was not. With the recently opened Imperial-Guilder agreement route. A way out had been granted to members of the various guilds of the city. Most of the smaller guilds had already left almost in their entirety, including the Pathfinders and Merchants guilds. Most mid ranking and junior members of the Adventurers guild had also been evacuated, with only the most senior staffers and some higher ranked parties remaining in the city, an act that earned them considerable ire from those less fortunate.

But the deal was a solid one. Take the passage out and be excused of whatever had happened. Even one of the most recongisable defenders, the adventurer called ‘The Crimson Witch’ had taken the offer. As she left, the imperials kept to their word and simply let the witch walk away. An act that prompted the more dispirited adventurers who remained to follow.

Daren jumped to the ground as a shadow flew overhead, knocking over his tankard of ale over himself. Beside him, his party leader Velia also ducked, her amour letting out a terrific clank as she connected with the cobblestone, practically putting out the small campfire they were next to with the impact alone.

Boom.

Stone, debris and rubble plummeted to the street nearby, sending a cloud of dust and rock washing over him.

“Morea’s tits!” Velia cursed, the rusty screech of metal resounded in the rubble strewn street as she flipped down her visor, “That was close.”

“Fucking hells.” Daren joined her, wiping off some of the dust as the smell of smoke and the pungent malty smell of the beer invaded his senses.

The world was covered in a sea of grey dust as he tried to analyze what had happened. What did they hit?

His question found a quick answer as the pain groans and cries of the injured drew his attention down the street. Ah, damn. He let out a tired sigh, how unlucky.

The boulder had smashed into a nearby tavern. One that currently hosted a decent amount of off duty defenders looking to take the edge out of their stressful days. So much for that.

Revellers, tired soldiers, and civilians alike lay scattered amongst the rubble. The lucky few died from the impact or the collapse, their mangled forms no longer having to worry about the siege. Those less fortunate writhed in pain as a plethora of splinters, stone, and metal pierced through their bodies. Stars.

He helped out here and there, trying to dig a few people out of the rubble as medics and priests rushed to the scene. A few other guardsmen and mercenaries joined in, quickly extracting those that they could.

His already dour mood was soured a little bit more when she stumbled to where the bar counter ought to have been. Where it used to be was part of a large stone, the counter itself flattened to pieces as had the barman, a singular arm having escaped the collapse and lay in a pool of its owner’s blood. He was a nice man, who served all the troops. Shame. Hope his wife and kid are alright.

The tragedy unfolded further where the kitchen had been. One of the tavern wenches was now quite headless, her corpse suggesting that she had been crushed during the impact as well. The tavern’s chef was hurrying somewhere when he had perished, a wooden beam having taken out most of his torso.

As he passed by the kitchen, he heard a dull thud from under

the rubble. Survivors? This is… wine cellar?

“Vel, give me a hand here.” He called out.

The metallic clanking of armour brought him a strange sense of calm. It was a sound he recognised in the field and one he appreciated when she was around.

“What is it? Someone trapped?” Velia asked.

“Sounds like it.” Daren grunted as he got to work, “Tyne and Navi alright?”

“Aye, the two were also out fucking in an alley. Shielded them from the strike. Pfft.” Velia chuckled, “Of all the things.”

“Heheh.” Daren chuckled with her

The two were used to death. Having advanced to Gold Rank meant their fair share of commissions that involved exploring unsavory ruins, oftentimes with less experienced parties and watching helplessly as rookie mistakes got people killed. Or even when they had to clear out recently inhabited areas occupied by monsters. Though he supposed it was a little different now, no mistake besides being in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

“Daren. One, two, hup.” Velia ordered as they lifted one final beam.

The wine cellar door was somewhat caved in but mostly intact. Lucky.

“Anyone down there? The door’s been cleared. I thought I heard you banging against it earlier.” He called down.

Some faint footsteps were heard as someone raced for the steps. A solid clack was heard as the bolt holding the door in place was unlatched. Worried eyes stared back at the duo as a brown haired little girl looked up fearfully at them. The owner’s daughter, shit. She looks disheveled and messy, poor kid.

“You okay?” Velia asked softly, the paladin removing her helmet.

A timid nod.

“Anyone else down here?”

A subtle shaking of the head

“Alright, let’s get you out of here, okay?”

A fearful nod.

“Here, see?” Velia unholstered her shield and raised it above the girl, “Stay under here and I’ll protect you. Alright? Daren, keep looking for survivors.”

She then motioned to Daren to check the rest of the cellar as she moved away, the girl wobbling under her shield. What is that about? Did she think that something was off? Or does she want me to try and sneak off with some supplies? Daren just nodded and waited until they turned a corner past some rubble, putting them out of sight.

Descending into the cellar, he could smell only the overwhelming scent of spilled beer and wine. Fusing together to create a malty, fruit, and somewhat damp scent. It’s certainly seen better days.

Amidst the darkness, he could make out traces of battle damage. Bits of the ceiling now plugged in by stray fragments of boulders. More than a few casks and bottles had been shaken loose thanks to the initial impact, his boots causing a small sticky splash with every step. Taking his time to examine some vintages, his ears slowly grew more aware of how silent it was getting. The sounds of the world above, the cries of the wounded and the panicked rescuers had faded into nothing more than a dull buzz, even with the cellar door wide open.

Stars, it’s like a fucking maze down here. Didn’t think a tavern would need this much storage space. The ground above shuddered as it reminded him of the current situation, sending a layer of dust descending from the ceiling. Then again, they might’ve been prepared for a siege, huh. I wonder where the food is?

Avoiding a few more puddles, he found crates and ration sacks, many of which showed minor signs of being opened. Ugh, rats even here. Goddess, have we been eating food with rat shit in it? Daren’s face curled in disgust as he pressed on, navigating through the cellar until another rumble shook the earth. This one was more violent than the last and forced him to duck by a sturdy barrel, just in case.

Moving deeper, he frowned as he heard the sound of running water and a foul odor cutting through the smell of dust and alcohol. Following the scent, he found himself staring into a part of the cellar that had been breached. A large stone embedded itself on the ceiling, likely cutting into the street and edge of the tavern itself. Parts of it, however, had breached the side wall of the cellar, revealing a connection into the Abenstadt sewers.

Daren stared into the sewer, his eye immediately noticing the lump by the wall. Pulling out his shortsword, he scowled. Archers aren’t meant for trouble up close. I’m good with a blade but… he wondered how fast he could run, quickly trying to remember the way back out.

Getting closer, he recognised the desiccated husk of bones that still wore a dress. A pale yellow brown dress was mixed with large splotches of now dried blood. The bones and leathery skin that remained indicated something had been feasting. Worse yet, beside the adult sized corpse was a child’s skeleton wearing a blue dress. Wait a minute. His mind flickered back to what few memories he had from this tavern. Scattered by the ground next to the small skeleton was a green ribbon. The same the daughter wears. A dark thought slinked across his mind. But didn’t she say there was no one with her? Then these two… aww fuck. What the hells went above ground?!

Daren scrambled towards the exit of the cellar when a heavier rumbling sent him tumbling into a puddle of spilled bear. Annoyed but worried, he hurried to his feet and ascended back onto the surface. Damned siege.

The first thing he could hear were the screams. But unlike the ones that were in pain, these were ones filled with fear and panic. Something had gone horribly wrong. Most people generally ran away from the walls, knowing that the Traxians were trying to blow them down or secure them, making them prime targets. When he saw a few townsfolk were fleeing towards him and by extent the garrisons on the wall. He was absolutely certain it was whatever disguised itself as the little girl and was now on the loose. Ahh hells.

“Daren! Over here!” Someone called out.

He spun around to find Tisiphone, his party’s healer, beckoning towards him. Under her, Martel, his party’s other warrior lay there groaning, his chest having seemingly been torn open and barely held together with magic. Next to him was Veilia, the warrior having likely been taken by surprise and stood little to no chance. At least not enough of a chance, judging by how half here body was nothing more than a charred husk.

Sickened but understanding of their current predicament, he clambered over some debris to reach them. Tisiphone was a nervous wreck, the wolfkin’s ears almost completely flat against her head as she stood shaking in place.

“I-I stabilized his wounds but Vel…” Tisiphone mumbled.

“Are you alright?” He asked the healer.

“M-m-me? I-I think so.” She stammered.

“Will he make it?” He gestured to Martel.

“I-I–huh? M-maybe?”

“Shit.” He grunted as he spent only a second glancing at their former leader. There was little to learn from Velia’s mangled form beyond the fact that whatever they were dealing with was extremely dangerous, having defeated a former paladin with ease. Surprise or not, it was a terrible situation.

“I-I don’t know what we, uh, what we, we should do.” She whimpered, her hands instinctively moved to flatten her ears further, “It all happened so fast.”

“That kid-thing still out there?” He grunted.

“Kid-thing? So you knew?”

“Suspected, found the real body down in the cellar.”

"The..." Tisiphone shuddered and lowered her head, “It happened so fast. Just, one minute we found Velia and the thing. The next, it had already cut through her. It tried to attack me too but…” Her gaze drifted to Martel, ah, I see.

Daren’s shoulder sagged as he surveyed the scene around them. They were protected in an alleyway, likely thanks to Martel having dragged the other two here before he received his injuries. Outside though, most of those that survived the tavern’s destruction were far less lucky.

“I take it that it kept going.”

Tisiphone nodded. Damn.

“Wait here.” He ordered.

“W-w-what?!” The wolfkin shrieked.

“Shh, shh. With Vel gone, I’m acting party leader right?” He tried to project a sense of calm to little effect.

The wolf was hyperventilating but she managed a meagre nod.

“I love Abenstadt, but fuck this. As acting party leader, I’m saying we get the hells out of here. Whatever that thing was-”

“T-the kid-”

“Yeah, it’s already killed Vel and busted up Martel. I doubt it’s just going to stop. Wait here, I’ll find us a cart, then we are leaving. Got it?”

“But… I… we… okay.” Tisiphone let out a mournful whine.

“Just wait here. We’re getting out of here.” His mouth tasted bitter as he spoke, the foul sting of defeat tainting his words. But what else can I do? If that is a demon, and with the siege… hells, it’s not worth even thinking about. There’s nothing we can do, he told himself, nothing more.