Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
This is Part XI & XII of a story set in the World of Greyhawk.
It's based on my own campaign, so some persons, places and things are not
in line with the published setting. Any helpful comments or suggestions
are welcome.
Thanks
Jason Zavoda
Bodies lay fallen all along the bridge. Goblin archers atop the
wall had found their marks and brought down the rushing troops as they
sought to scale the rough stone blocks.
The giants had slain many more with spears, mere darts in their
gigantic hands, and boulders, which they had in plenty. These rocks had
left crushed and mangled bodies all along the road. The surviving troops
had been pulled well back, disheartened at their losses and demoralized by
their defeat.
Kyle was near the end of the column, busy keeping his men up to
pace and in line. They passed two fresh companies whose troops who sat on
either side of the road. Spit and polish regulars, well armed and rested.
These soldiers would follow up the Eigth auxiliaries, if the Eigth could
take the wall, but by then the real fighting would be done.
The column halted and spread out. The range of the giants'
throwing arms had been worked out with the lives of the soldiers in the
first assault. Kyle's broken century moved to the right, while Waddard
took his to the left, well out of the giants' range. The captain jogged
aside and joined a small group within a large tent. Several lights shone
brightly and the glint of polished armor could be seen.
Jagiello, the first monitor of Kyle's command, came up and stood
beside him as they waited.
"I've found you a signalman." the old Rhennee said. The man's
voice still held a soft accent. He'd spoken only a few words of common
decades before when he'd joined the Gran March guards.
"Who?" Kyle asked.
"Dediulin." Jagiello replied. "He is a beast with the horn. I
would not have it tortured so, but he knows the signals. He'll learn to
sound the notes true with some practice."
"I'm glad for that." Kyle said. "We'll need that horn tonight. I
know I always feel less scared when the charge is being blown."
"You and everyone else." the Rhennee nudged Kyle and pointed to
the tent. "That was quick."
"At least they're not going to keep us standing around here all
night." Kyle blustered.
Captain Fintan walked over to Waddard's command. He spoke to the
sergeant then barked out orders to the gathered troops. One man in five
ran off, but they soon returned with climbing poles and crude ladders.
The first century formed up in groups of five. One man standing
behind the other. Four such rows took their place along the road, and
behind them four more, till the entire century was strung out in line.
They faced the bridge. The old stone arch was broad, big enough for two
wagons to roll along and never touch.
The wall, which the giants had built, was nothing more than huge
blocks of unmortared stone, but each so large and heavy that it would take
a siege engine to knock them down. Atop the broad blocks, goblin archers
swarmed. They'd made wooden barricades waist high to their small forms,
as cover, to fire down with some safety onto any who tried to storm the
wall. Above the goblins, the giants could be seen, only their head and
shoulders visible. They used huge wooden clubs or staves made from the
boles of trees. One flourished a two-hand sword of giant make. The blade
was at least a dozen feet long and broader than a man's waist. One blow
had cleaned the wall of troopers during the first assault, cutting down
goblins and men with one pass, like a farmer scything down stalks of grain
during a harvest day.
Kyle could hear Waddard's voice as he called the men to order.
The captain came up while the monitors checked each fiveman hand of
troops.
"We will be using the fist." Captain Fintan said.
Five men make a hand, five hands make a squad, four squads make a
century, thought Kyle. A Century sent out in five-man hands is the fist,
used to batter down a gate or take a wall or smash through a line of men.
"You will follow with your century," said Fintan, a broken fist.
"Keep close, and have your slingers at the front."
"Yes Sir!" Kyle replied. "Are we to take ladders as well?"
"No, you either follow us up or take them from the ground
where they've fallen." Fintan looked Kyle in the eye. "Your orders are
to take that wall, regardless of the cost."
"Yes Sir, standard orders then." said Kyle.
"Hah." Fintan barked out a laugh. "I've heard that is how you
auxiliaries think. Well good then, standard orders."
"Sir I have found someone to sound the calls." Kyle said before
the captain could turn away.
"Did you. Good, good. Have him stand with you." the captain
smiled. "That is how you led the charge before. With the horn
sounding at your side."
"I would prefer to be leading this charge as well." Kyle said.
"Sir." he almost forgot to add.
"That is my honor this time around." The captain said. "Now form
up your men sergeant. Have your signalman sound the horn on my command."
* * *
A young woman in a dark blue robe stepped from the tent. She
walked to the edge of the road and faced the bridge. Goblins began hooting
and shouting from the wall. A stone arched out and slammed into the ground
near to where she stood, but it did not seem to faze her or slow her pace.
Arrows began to whiz toward her, but fell short, they snapped and sparked
against the stone paving of the bridge.
She came to a slow paced stop, standing still for a moment, but
had to hop aside as a stone came hurtling by. It exploded into a thousand
knife edged chips. The gathered troops gave a cry as they saw the woman
twist in pain and grab her side. With fierce determination she straitened,
and held herself still. She did not flinch as another stone crashed down
nearby. Her arms raised up and her voice called out, and as she spoke, a
swirling mist began to form high above her head and out across the bridge.
A wall of fog obscured the giants' view. They threw their stones blindly
and to no effect as the young mage turned and ran at full speed from the
hail of rocks.
"Now! Advance!" came the call.
Kyle nudged the signalman and he gave forth the charge. The horn
squealed like a spirit in hell, but the troopers understood. The first
ranks were already running for the bridge.
Though blindly thrown, the boulders took their toll. A stone flew
through the wall of mist and struck a man full in the head. Empty
shouldered, the body stumbled, the stone kept going. The man behind was
killed. His chest took the stony blow and caved in like a fist smashed
down on a jam-filled cake. The three others in the hand were knocked from
their feet. None rose as the following rank advanced over the bodies of
the dead.
Arrows came sailing out from the mist. The goblin shafts struck
several men. Waddard was hit, he ignored the stinging pain and snapped off
the shaft that stuck from his left arm. A soldier took an arrow in the
throat and fell. Another felt something clip him on the head and reached
up to find his ear was gone.
And then more stones came smashing down. One that hit no one, sent
flying shards and brought three men down with wounded legs. Another
bounced and took a soldier from the bridge. His lifeless corpse splashed
into the rushing stream and was driven deep below the surface of the
water. A boulder landed short and rolled down the bridge, a trooper stuck
out a foot to stop it like a ball, and lost both foot and lower leg as the
massive block rolled past.
Then the misty shield was gone and the wall lay close at hand.
A goblin set a torch to a bale of hay and pushed it down upon a trooper.
The soldier was knocked flat, the burning straw engulfed him, the wooden
scaling pole he brought fell across the flames. The man behind grabbed for
the wooden pole and was struck three times by goblin shafts. He fell atop
the burning bale.
A giant leaned down above the wall and dropped a stone straight
down upon another man who'd climbed halfway up. It broke him and the
ladder both and threw another to the ground. The giant laughed, then bent
back behind the wall to get another rock.
On the right, two men had reached the top. One took an arrow in
the face and fell back. The other dodged a short, dark sword and cut a
goblin down with a sweeping stroke of his own blade. A massive club
shattered a wooden board on his left and killed the goblin archer there as
well. The trooper jumped forward and cut at the giant's arm. A small
dagger cut into his leg. He turned to see a goblin give it a twist, then
the giant's backswing smashed him from his perch. His body was sent
sailing forward. He was first across the wall, dead upon the giants' side
of the bridge.
* * *
(To Be Continued...)