PART 6 – ENDGAME:
THE BATTLE OF ATLANTIS
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Tyrell’s eyes were immediately drawn to the brilliant and
deep green flare that rose up over the southern gate. The Sirens fell over as
if they were hit by a fierce wind. Behind him stood the Emperor. “Sir!” Then he
noticed Alec not far behind him. Tyrell greeted him with a smile, “You’re late,
you know. When did you arrive?” He paused to direct the next wave of archers.
Before the arrows landed, the Sirens fired their second wave of magic.
“Barriers!” The Col Magic corps, caught off guard, were unable to respond. As
the dark mages finished their chant, a person dropped from the sky and slew one
of the more powerful mages.
After that one, multiple soldiers seemed to drop out of
the sky at random. The Col Dragoons had arrived. The foe, missing their
generals, fell into unhindered disarray. “Heh, looks like we got the drop on them, hm?” Tyrell laughed at
Alec’s comment. The quick relief from terror was over and Tyrell resumed his
focus on the battle. Another burst of wind knocked over the Siren atronachs.
The Emperor’s eyes were glowing a sage green. “Are you doing this, Milord?”
“I’ve a bit of help.” He said as Xander walked up to the
battlement. The man’s eyes were glowing the same color as the Emperor’s. “We
shall handle things here, Sir Tyrell. Take Lord Alec and chase after those that
made it inside the city.” As the two men clung to the stones, the winds built
up to gale forces. “A breeze for our
allies, and a tempest for our foes.” The Emperor looked up to the now cloud
filled sky. “Come forth, Euroclydon.”
Both said as their foci moaned under the pressure. In a burst of green light,
magic infused the abnormally strong breezes that the two prophets were
creating. The winds grazed off the allied armies, but absolutely demolished the
opposing and broken Siren lines.
“Come, Tyrell.” Alec attempted to drag the Col general
away from the wall. “I can’t leave yet! My men…and Xander! Is he?”
“Norton will take care of that; we have bigger things to
handle.” Tyrell’s eyes returned to the location of the flare. He could faintly
make out the first of the Col Cavalry making it over the hill. Norton jumped
off a large war steed and rushed off into the fray alongside the beasts of war.
Grudgingly, Tyrell followed Alec through the fear-filled streets towards the
temple. Tyrell was able to drown out the screams and death, but the feeling of
the blood-slick streets under his boots twisted his stomach. A group of wounded
civilians was under attack by Sirens. “Tyrell!”
A cold feeling gripped him. The pain of his past and the
visions of the last few hours stung in his mind. He closed his eyes and
whispered, “There is no time.” Unwilling or unable to argue, Alec and Tyrell
rushed past their pleas for help. As a lone tear formed in Tyrell’s eye, he swore
that he would get revenge. The massive temple loomed overhead as the duo
approached the location of the enemy.
Norton hated the wind. Even if it was, technically, on
his side. It messed up his hair, ruffled his coat-tails, and generally made a
mess of his chainmail skirt. But, at least he didn’t have to smell the rotten
stench the Sirens gave off when they reverted back to their state of magical
ooze. It was like sulfur and death forgot to bathe for a month.
He also hated mud. The sticky mud of the south plains was
no deeper than his ankles. But it clung to everything and splashed about as he
twisted and parried. His once clean steel was now stained with blood, magical
residue, and now mud. He sighed as a horse raced by him, coating his left side
in the heavy semi-liquid. The next swing of his sword saw two Sirens fall.
He also hated Sirens. But then again, he was a Nihilist; he
hated everything. He took his pseudo-rational hatred out on another set of
twelve Sirens. Norton and a Dragoon teamed up to tackle this group. The two
danced between each other and the enemy, ducking and leaping over swings. After
the area was clear, the Dragoon glanced over at Norton. The general chuckled,
“I still hate you…but not as much now.” The soldier flashed a smile and took a
magic fueled leap over into another group of Sirens that were unprepared for
his assault. Norton shook his head and directed another set of soldiers to
engage some enemy infantry.
Even with their increased numbers and the benefit of a
magical tailwind, the Sirens still outnumbered and outmatched the army. There
were three Siren for every Col soldier and one Siren was worth five of Norton’s
men. However, Euroclydon’s power was assisting the defenders by occasionally
tossing a Siren like a fallen leaf. Norton thought he could win. A glint of
something in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned to block.
A small topaz bounced off his blade harmlessly. Another followed shortly after.
An ominous red cloud hung over Atlantis. Norton had seen this before. He
muttered a curse and began smashing the unformed Sirens. He managed to get
twelve before the topaz began to fall at an alarming rate.
If this keeps up,
we’re dead…Topaz Rain was the ultimate method of transporting troops. And
at a rate of one hundred a minute, the Siren’s ranks were growing rapidly.
“That cloud…” The red mass pulsated with power as magic streaked out from the
Temple. It was absorbed by a massive Obsidian focus. A focus…Norton set his jaw and ordered a retreat. Xander and the
Emperor took the moment to release a gust; the gale drove the enemy back long
enough for the Col Army to regroup for a second attack. Norton found the two
mages in the belfry, sitting against the wall. “I don’t know how much longer
we’ll be able to last, your majesty.”
“I hate your attitude, Xander.”
“An insult from the mighty Norton. I’m truly happy now;
you’ve completely made my day.” Norton rolled his eyes but still extended a
hand to help the man back up to his feet. “I’ve got a really stupid plan, but I
need some help. Can you and the other battlemages fire a single bolt of magic at
the cloud overhead? I think the power should destroy the cloud.” He paused for
a moment, “Or flatten Atlanis; I’m not quite sure.”
“And you are trusting this to me?” Xander said in shock.
Norton shrugged, “I just want someone I don’t like doing it in case they die.”
Xander actually laughed and clapped a hand on Norton’s shoulder. “We’ll make an
optimist out of you yet.” Before Norton could say anything, the younger general
organized his mages in a safe spot. “Your majesty, you may take a break here.”
The Emperor motioned for Norton to help him up. As he
rose to his feet, the Emperor pointed towards a discarded scabbard. “It’s
Chrystal’s…I’m going to fight. For her.” The man lifted his daughter’s blade
and looked at the general. “And I’ll do it without your leave, commander.”
“But Sire, you – “
“Enough, Norton.” A chant echoed through the belfry.
There was a short hissing sound, followed by a deep ‘ah’. This chant repeated
until the sound caused the stone walls to reverberate and tremble. “That’s a
primal chant. A Daylanian. Pre-war. Primal chant.” Norton said. The Emperor
smiled. “You are not the only one who was busy these last months.” The chanting
got louder, dropping the hissing and adding more grunts and exhales. Norton set
his jaw again, but this time to avoid smiling. They asked Daylon for help. These idiots…what am I to do with them?
Daylon’s soldiers had arrived though the north gate an
hour previous. They had fought through the terrified streets, slaughtering
thousands of Sirens with no apparent casualties. The guard was startled to see
the King Darian leading them. The soldiers pointed to the south gate, and the
reinforcements mingled among the Col soldiers waiting for a Siren counter attack.
Once they had lined up, the tribal people began their chant. It was designed to
get the soldier’s mind cleared and ready for battle. It did its job.
Oftentimes, too well.
“Bothers. Today, we go to war.” Only one or two soldiers
were able to remove themselves from the chant to cheer. The Daylanian Chieftain,
King Darian, pumped his tomahawks in the air to the tempo of the chant.
“Sisters, raise your voices!” The chanting got louder, more frantic. Women were
there, wearing modified tribal dress designed for combat. The men however,
instead of their ceremonial armor, wore trousers cut off at the knee and their
tribal ornaments. These were true Daylanian tribal warriors. Those with larger
headdresses were higher in rank. Children, barely in their eleventh year, wore
simple tribal headbands. The Chieftain wore his crown, but had his tribal
markings drawn across his face and chest. His wife stood by him, helping the
other women finish marking the grand warrior.
“Spawn of darkness, hear us!” The king spoke, and the
chanting stopped immediately. The women put down their brushes and rejoined
their families on the Daylanian line. The Sirens, now focusing on both armies,
halted at the sound of Darian’s voice. “You have seen the power of a Col
legion. You have felt the destruction a Loc judicator can bring. You have heard
the echo of the Ken war machines. Prepare to witness a greater force than those
combined!” The chanting resumed. Some Col soldiers joined in the chant,
pounding their spears on the cobblestone to add to the noise. The women began
to sing over the chant. Their song matched the tempo and beat of the chant.
Norton nodded to his captains, telling them to follow the
Chieftain. King Darian turned towards the soldiers, both Col and Daylanians.
“Come, Iltazian siblings! Let us go forth and win!” The chant broke into a war
cry; Col and Daylon ran into the fray. The Sirens rushed into the wall of flesh
and steel. The sounds of steel and flesh resounded over the plains. Now, while
the Sirens outnumbered the defenders, the attackers were badly outmatched.
While one Siren was worth five Col soldiers, a Daylanian tribal warrior was
worth three Sirens. Norton hacked through a Siren’s armor and punched at the
core. The Emperor followed through with a thrust, and the human form fell into
a puddle of sulfuric ooze.
Xander led his mage corps in charging a united spell.
They aimed at the large obsidian focus at the center of the cloud. Their chants
echoed louder than the Daylanian chant, enhanced by the power of wind.
“Alright, men! Let’s give ‘em a taste of Col’s fury!” The battlemages fired a
wind-based, bolt-type spell at the core. The stream of magic mixed with the
power seeping out from the temple. The excess of magic caused the core to
crack. A messenger arrived shortly after to announce that the Sirens were slowing
down and their topaz crystals were not forming into fighters. Xander joined his
men. “Continue firing!” He said, “The focus will break soon enough.” The mages
kept chanting, although some had to stop speaking to hold onto consciousness. A
thunderous sound shook the buildings and shattered whatever windows were still
standing. The crack in the obsidian became rent the focus in twain. The mages
let out a cheer as the hunk of stone fell from the sky and shattered on the
abandoned buildings of Atlantis. “We did it.” Xander whispered as he slumped
against a wall. Another messenger arrived. “Well met…how are the others
faring?” The boy paused. “Milord…General Norton…”
Norton stood in the midst of a swamp of mud and the
remains of a million Sirens. When the focus exploded, the Sirens just dropped.
The mid-afternoon sun retuned when the red cloud disappeared. Norton hated the
sunlight, but today it only mildly annoyed him. He slid his blade back into his
sheath and shifted his weight onto his left leg. “Well done, Xander. I almost
tolerate you now.” He turned to walk away when a sizzling sound caught his
attention. His ooze covered sword was smoking in its sheath. Fear hastened his
reflexes. Within seconds, he had his entire belt detached and sent it hurdling
through the air. The corrosion ate at the whole thing until only the leather
straps remained.
“Hey, careful: the liquid is –” A humanoid form lurched
out of the ground, dripping with mud and magical residue. Before Norton could get
a better look, its face split around where the mouth should have been. It
clamped down on the Generals right foot. Norton let out a cry of agony. As the
others flinched at Norton’s scream, Sirens rose from the oily substance and
easily killed half the army in their surprise attack. Norton fell back into the
mud and kicked at the monster. His boot passed through its chest and shattered
the core. The monster’s single eye lit up; but Norton could not distinguish
where his blood ended and the eye began.
A young Daylanian came from behind the general and yelled
something in the ancient tongue. A brilliant white light appeared in this hands.
The boy thrust forward, and with that single touch, the monster exploded into
dust. The lad, no older than ten, linked his arms under the general’s and
proceeded to drag him off the field. He let out a tribal call. More men came to
help the boy rescue Norton. Soon, King Darian himself was carrying the General.
“Put me down! I can fight!” The general’s demands were drowned out as his men
retreated back to the walls. The gates came crashing down just before the first
of the Sirens reached it. Norton and the medical staff set up in the courtyard.
“You are lucky my son came for you, Norton.” King Darian
whispered to Norton. “That’s fabulous.” He muttered. The surgeon looked at the
wound. Norton had shaken his boot off in his escape, but the acid had begun to
eat at the flesh on the foot. It had begun to eat around the ankle, with spot
appearing on the bottom of his foot and shins. Teeth marks dotted the top of
the foot, and they were corroding at a slower rate. “Get me some water,
antiseptics, and lots of bandages.” Norton waved his hand. “Get me a mug of
Daylanian Fire Brandy too.” The others looked at the General. “I’m going to
need it.” The surgeons began cleaning off the marks. Every attempt only seemed
to prolong the process.
“General, we are going to get you some escorts to Syl.
This leg needs to be amputated. We lack the supplies to do that here.” The
general shook his head violently and pointed to his mug. More Fire Brandy was
put in. He downed the whole mug in a single gulp. “No can do. Get me up and
moving. I’ve an army to lead.” Xander had arrived and was dealing with the
Sirens. He stopped by to see Norton. “Norton relax, I’ll take care of things
here.” Xander’s plea was to no avail, as the general pointed to his mug again.
“General, you can’t be here with that leg of yours. You will die.” Norton shook
his head and looked over at the prince. His war axe was unspotted, although it
had been used to cut up the Sirens.
“Boy. Your axe.” The prince looked at him. “Let me see
it.” The boy handed it over. The black steel and gemstone fused weapon seemed
to resist the Siren’s acidic powers. Norton shook his head before finally
grunting. “I’ll go.” He said softly. The surgeon got up and Norton finished off
his mug of brandy. He turned the axe in his hand and smiled over at the boy.
“It’s a fine weapon. You did good to keep it from the Sirens.” He glared at
Xander. “Could you adjust the tourniquet, I want to slow the corruption.”
Xander nodded and pulled the rope tighter. Right
below my knee. I’m going to lose this whole leg by the time I get to Syl.
Xander pulled away and Norton smiled. The other man cocked his head in
curiosity, a grim look slowly drawing out on his face. “Norton, don’t you –”
before the word ‘dare’ could exit his mouth, Norton had dropped the axe across
the infected leg. The corrupted portion fell to the cobblestone and dissolved
within seconds. The general frantically motioned for his mug, but ripped the
whole jug out of the server’s hands. Norton downed the contents within seconds.
“Thanks boy,” He stuttered to the prince between shivers, “I like you.” The axe
clattered onto the floor.
“Idiot!” The surgeons returned. “Get me bandages, and
some salve: now!” The general just sat there as the others tried to save him.
“Hey, Xander…” he leaned in to hear what Norton wanted. “Why in Q’Rohda’s name
would you do that?!”
“Too loud…always hated that leg. Broke ankle twice…the
west gate, lieutenant.” Either the pain or the alcohol was making it hard for
him to be coherent. “What? What about the gate?”
“Unprotected…” Norton went unconscious. The doctors
ushered the three soldiers out of the tent. “Darian, can you send a detachment
to the West Gate?”
“Not so, Lieutenant; half my men were killed.”
“HALF?!” It was
safe to say that Atlantis would fall. They barely stood a chance with the
Daylanian army. Now that half of it was gone, they were doomed. Other thoughts, Xander. How many can we
save? “Darian. Send two teams of ten and I’ll send twice that. Tell them to
round up any civilians by the west gate and escape through the north gate.” The
king smiled and nodded. “A good plan, lieutenant. We will save who we can.” The
two men organized their teams and sent them out. “Let’s hope this will work.”
Just as the king finished speaking, the Sirens broke through the gate. A funnel
of wind forced them to rush in single file. The Emperor stood focusing his
magic a short ways away. “I can’t hold them forever, Lieutenant! Get in there
and finish this quickly!” Xander nodded and created a field. The magic infused
his armies with speed and dexterity while causing his opponents to become
clumsy and slow. It would extend out to the southern plains. Xander smiled and
turned to the King. “Lead them Darian. We will support you from back here.” The
chieftain nodded and yelled a battle cry.
The west gate was
truly unprotected. Only twenty soldiers sat in the bell tower. They watched the
army of Sirens. The Sirens watched them. It was a gory and terrifying staring
contest. “Hey…why ain’t they attacked yet? It’s like…twenty to a thousand.” One
whispered. “I dunno.” Then, they just collapsed. The guards left the tower and
stood on the battlements. “Hehe! Look a’ that! We won.” They opened the gate
and walked outside. No sooner had they, then the army of Sirens returned. Almost
simultaneously, all of their eyes illuminated an ominous red. The thousand
rushed the twenty. A blood bath would ensue. The Sirens howled and extended
their bestial claws. The black, humanoid shapes reached forward with the intent
to kill. They had their opening. Atlantis had become theirs.
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