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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7473487" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 187</p><p></p><p>Bredan lay slumped against the solidity of the Darkfall Gate, utterly exhausted. His arms and legs felt as though they had been banded with iron weights. His wounds burned, but they were not too serious; a dwarf medic had examined him briefly earlier but had passed him up for others when it was clear that he was not going to bleed to death. It could have been worse; if he hadn’t been wearing his armor he might not be there to feel the pain.</p><p></p><p>He had lost track of how many trolls he had killed. They died hard, but they did die, eventually. Quellan had told them that surface trolls regenerated, their bodies healing even deadly wounds in moments. These trolls lacked that property; at least that was something, Bredan thought. With their unnaturally thick hides, frenzied strength, and resistance to magic they were otherwise terrible foes.</p><p></p><p>The fight atop the wall blurred together in his mind, a memory already becoming hazy. He might forget the details, but he doubted he would ever forget the sheer intensity of it, the surging horde of trolls, the struggle to take even one step forward against that violent rush. Xeeta and Quellan had completely expended their reserves of magic, the former in explosive displays of magical power, the latter mostly in healing those who otherwise might have died from their wounds. But both of his friends had been there in the front line as well.</p><p></p><p>It had been dicey there for a moment, and Bredan remembered thinking that the trolls would sweep them away, that nothing could stop them. But dwarven reinforcements had arrived just in time, beating back the horde. Koron had been among them, apparently recovered from being shot through by a ballista. The dwarf had swept through the troll ranks like a berserker, knocking the bigger creatures back over the wall with blows from a huge hammer. The weapon had to have been at least twice as heavy as Bredan’s sword, yet Koron had wielded it like a switch.</p><p></p><p>Bredan was thirsty, but the effort of getting up and going into the adjacent guardhouse seemed impossible at that moment. He managed to lift his head a bit and look around. Quellan had gone to the infirmary to help the dwarven clerics treat the wounded; even with his magic depleted his skill and knowledge were still needed. Xeeta had disappeared somewhere. Bredan might have been worried about her if he hadn’t seen the look on her face as the fighting began to wind down. He understood that she needed some time alone.</p><p></p><p>He didn’t see his friends, but he did see Darik approaching. The dwarf warrior looked as beaten and battered as Bredan felt, but that didn’t stop him from moving briskly and with purpose. He saw Bredan and hailed him.</p><p></p><p>“Are you all right?”</p><p></p><p>“It looks worse than it feels,” Bredan said. “How about you?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m not looking forward to later, when I have time to hurt,” Darik said. Bredan chuckled. The dwarves as a whole might be mysterious and troublesome, but this one was all right.</p><p></p><p>“You seem to be in a hurry,” Bredan said.</p><p></p><p>Darik nodded. “We’re sending a small force out through the Small Gate,” he said.</p><p></p><p>“To make sure they’re all dead?”</p><p></p><p>“That, and to see if we can learn anything.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan nodded, then with an effort he pushed himself up. He did not want to admit how much the presence of the wall behind him was keeping him standing. “I’d like to go with you.”</p><p></p><p>“That’s not necessary,” Darik said. “You’ve already done enough. More than enough. If you and your friends hadn’t been there when they gained the wall…”</p><p></p><p>“Still, I’d like to see for myself,” Bredan said. “I promise I won’t get in the way.”</p><p></p><p>After a moment, the dwarf nodded. “Fair enough.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan was the last one through the fortified corridor that led to the outer door. His height allowed him to see over the heads of the seven dwarves in front of him. Seven again; a fortuitous number. He wondered if his presence spoiled the luck.</p><p></p><p>The outside door ground open. The sally port hadn’t come under serious attack during the troll assault, but there was an engineer among the company who carefully checked the mechanisms as the others tromped through. Bredan turned to the side and carefully edged through to avoid getting in the dwarf’s way. The others had already fanned out, though they remained close enough to help each other if necessary.</p><p></p><p>That support wasn’t immediately necessary, as nothing stirred around them. Bredan felt some of the hard tension of the fight return as he stared out upon the battlefield.</p><p></p><p>Dead trolls were everywhere, some embedded with stubby crossbow bolts, others with terrible gashes from dwarven axes. He could separate the ones that had been flung off the wall, they were in worse shape than the ones that had been shot from above. Some lay in blackened ruins in the midst of scorch marks; the dwarves had used fire bombs as part of their siege defenses.</p><p></p><p>The trolls were bad enough, but Bredan’s attention was quickly drawn to the giants.</p><p></p><p>He’d seen them from above, but it was different from this vantage, close enough to reach out and touch them. There were two right next to the sally port, in the shadow of the main gate. The huge stone battering rams that they’d used to assault the gate were lying on the ground next to them. Bolts from crossbows and ballistae jutted from the corpses, even the latter looking tiny against their sheer mass.</p><p></p><p>Bredan felt his gorge threaten as he came closer to the fallen hulks. They were about the size of the hill giant he had encountered on the road to the Silverpeak Valley, but that was where the similarity ended. These giants were hideously malformed, their bodies twisted into contorted forms that Bredan knew was not the result of their injuries. One had a massive hunchback, while the other had arms that were of different length, the smaller twisted unnaturally in a way that had to have been an agony when it was still alive. Their faces looked like a sculpture that had been deliberately mangled, the flesh lumped and misshapen.</p><p></p><p>“Formorians,” Darik said.</p><p></p><p>“What makes them like this?” Bredan asked.</p><p></p><p>“No one really knows for sure,” Darik said. “Some say they were cursed, others that they were mutated by the strange radiations of the underworld.”</p><p></p><p>“Are they customarily allied with trolls?”</p><p></p><p>“No,” Darik said. “Needless to say, this is not a good development.”</p><p></p><p>They continued past the two fallen giants. There were a few others scattered across the battlefield, their bodies looming over the comparatively tiny trolls that lay fallen all around them. Bredan could clearly mark the spot where the trolls had gained the wall; there was another dead giant there, a ballista bolt sticking through its neck. The remnants of the wooden ramp it had held for the trolls lay around its body, charred and blackened. The giants had also been responsible for hurling the husk balls full of trolls over the wall.</p><p></p><p>“Did any get away?”</p><p></p><p>“We’re not certain. There are five giants here altogether, and maybe a hundred trolls. There might have been more.”</p><p></p><p>“Seems like a well-planned attack,” Bredan said.</p><p></p><p>“That fact has not escaped us,” Darik said.</p><p></p><p>They were interrupted by a terrible cry, followed by a gurgling sound. They turned to see one of the dwarves standing over a fallen troll, a bloody knife in his hand.</p><p></p><p>“No quarter,” Bredan said.</p><p></p><p>“They would not have given us any,” Darik pointed out.</p><p></p><p>“Do you think they’ll be back?” Bredan said.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t know,” Darik said.</p><p></p><p>They didn’t linger long on the battlefield. The dwarves were quite thorough, but Bredan had seen enough blood for one day.</p><p></p><p>Darik went back in with him. There was a messenger waiting when they got back into the guardroom, a young dwarf who took Darik aside and spoke with him quietly. When he left, the dwarf warrior called Bredan over.</p><p></p><p>“What is it?” Bredan asked.</p><p></p><p>“It’s the Council,” Darik said. “They want to see you and your friends again, as soon as possible.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7473487, member: 143"] Chapter 187 Bredan lay slumped against the solidity of the Darkfall Gate, utterly exhausted. His arms and legs felt as though they had been banded with iron weights. His wounds burned, but they were not too serious; a dwarf medic had examined him briefly earlier but had passed him up for others when it was clear that he was not going to bleed to death. It could have been worse; if he hadn’t been wearing his armor he might not be there to feel the pain. He had lost track of how many trolls he had killed. They died hard, but they did die, eventually. Quellan had told them that surface trolls regenerated, their bodies healing even deadly wounds in moments. These trolls lacked that property; at least that was something, Bredan thought. With their unnaturally thick hides, frenzied strength, and resistance to magic they were otherwise terrible foes. The fight atop the wall blurred together in his mind, a memory already becoming hazy. He might forget the details, but he doubted he would ever forget the sheer intensity of it, the surging horde of trolls, the struggle to take even one step forward against that violent rush. Xeeta and Quellan had completely expended their reserves of magic, the former in explosive displays of magical power, the latter mostly in healing those who otherwise might have died from their wounds. But both of his friends had been there in the front line as well. It had been dicey there for a moment, and Bredan remembered thinking that the trolls would sweep them away, that nothing could stop them. But dwarven reinforcements had arrived just in time, beating back the horde. Koron had been among them, apparently recovered from being shot through by a ballista. The dwarf had swept through the troll ranks like a berserker, knocking the bigger creatures back over the wall with blows from a huge hammer. The weapon had to have been at least twice as heavy as Bredan’s sword, yet Koron had wielded it like a switch. Bredan was thirsty, but the effort of getting up and going into the adjacent guardhouse seemed impossible at that moment. He managed to lift his head a bit and look around. Quellan had gone to the infirmary to help the dwarven clerics treat the wounded; even with his magic depleted his skill and knowledge were still needed. Xeeta had disappeared somewhere. Bredan might have been worried about her if he hadn’t seen the look on her face as the fighting began to wind down. He understood that she needed some time alone. He didn’t see his friends, but he did see Darik approaching. The dwarf warrior looked as beaten and battered as Bredan felt, but that didn’t stop him from moving briskly and with purpose. He saw Bredan and hailed him. “Are you all right?” “It looks worse than it feels,” Bredan said. “How about you?” “I’m not looking forward to later, when I have time to hurt,” Darik said. Bredan chuckled. The dwarves as a whole might be mysterious and troublesome, but this one was all right. “You seem to be in a hurry,” Bredan said. Darik nodded. “We’re sending a small force out through the Small Gate,” he said. “To make sure they’re all dead?” “That, and to see if we can learn anything.” Bredan nodded, then with an effort he pushed himself up. He did not want to admit how much the presence of the wall behind him was keeping him standing. “I’d like to go with you.” “That’s not necessary,” Darik said. “You’ve already done enough. More than enough. If you and your friends hadn’t been there when they gained the wall…” “Still, I’d like to see for myself,” Bredan said. “I promise I won’t get in the way.” After a moment, the dwarf nodded. “Fair enough.” Bredan was the last one through the fortified corridor that led to the outer door. His height allowed him to see over the heads of the seven dwarves in front of him. Seven again; a fortuitous number. He wondered if his presence spoiled the luck. The outside door ground open. The sally port hadn’t come under serious attack during the troll assault, but there was an engineer among the company who carefully checked the mechanisms as the others tromped through. Bredan turned to the side and carefully edged through to avoid getting in the dwarf’s way. The others had already fanned out, though they remained close enough to help each other if necessary. That support wasn’t immediately necessary, as nothing stirred around them. Bredan felt some of the hard tension of the fight return as he stared out upon the battlefield. Dead trolls were everywhere, some embedded with stubby crossbow bolts, others with terrible gashes from dwarven axes. He could separate the ones that had been flung off the wall, they were in worse shape than the ones that had been shot from above. Some lay in blackened ruins in the midst of scorch marks; the dwarves had used fire bombs as part of their siege defenses. The trolls were bad enough, but Bredan’s attention was quickly drawn to the giants. He’d seen them from above, but it was different from this vantage, close enough to reach out and touch them. There were two right next to the sally port, in the shadow of the main gate. The huge stone battering rams that they’d used to assault the gate were lying on the ground next to them. Bolts from crossbows and ballistae jutted from the corpses, even the latter looking tiny against their sheer mass. Bredan felt his gorge threaten as he came closer to the fallen hulks. They were about the size of the hill giant he had encountered on the road to the Silverpeak Valley, but that was where the similarity ended. These giants were hideously malformed, their bodies twisted into contorted forms that Bredan knew was not the result of their injuries. One had a massive hunchback, while the other had arms that were of different length, the smaller twisted unnaturally in a way that had to have been an agony when it was still alive. Their faces looked like a sculpture that had been deliberately mangled, the flesh lumped and misshapen. “Formorians,” Darik said. “What makes them like this?” Bredan asked. “No one really knows for sure,” Darik said. “Some say they were cursed, others that they were mutated by the strange radiations of the underworld.” “Are they customarily allied with trolls?” “No,” Darik said. “Needless to say, this is not a good development.” They continued past the two fallen giants. There were a few others scattered across the battlefield, their bodies looming over the comparatively tiny trolls that lay fallen all around them. Bredan could clearly mark the spot where the trolls had gained the wall; there was another dead giant there, a ballista bolt sticking through its neck. The remnants of the wooden ramp it had held for the trolls lay around its body, charred and blackened. The giants had also been responsible for hurling the husk balls full of trolls over the wall. “Did any get away?” “We’re not certain. There are five giants here altogether, and maybe a hundred trolls. There might have been more.” “Seems like a well-planned attack,” Bredan said. “That fact has not escaped us,” Darik said. They were interrupted by a terrible cry, followed by a gurgling sound. They turned to see one of the dwarves standing over a fallen troll, a bloody knife in his hand. “No quarter,” Bredan said. “They would not have given us any,” Darik pointed out. “Do you think they’ll be back?” Bredan said. “I don’t know,” Darik said. They didn’t linger long on the battlefield. The dwarves were quite thorough, but Bredan had seen enough blood for one day. Darik went back in with him. There was a messenger waiting when they got back into the guardroom, a young dwarf who took Darik aside and spoke with him quietly. When he left, the dwarf warrior called Bredan over. “What is it?” Bredan asked. “It’s the Council,” Darik said. “They want to see you and your friends again, as soon as possible.” [/QUOTE]
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