"NOCK!"
At the raise of his sabre the
monarch's countless archers drew their arrows, raising them high as their
strings tuned together.
"DRAW!"
Squealing twine echoed down the
line, a row of men from cliff to cliff cutting off any hope of escape from the
ravine. The City fortified beyond the barren field glowed mockingly from across
the way. The archers pulled as far as they could, angling for maximum distance.
"LOOSE!"
Staccato twangs throw the cloud
of arrows deep into the field, none passing higher than the foot of the City's
impenetrable walls. Holes gouged in the sheer rock prevented them from
advancing further, lest they be picked off from above. Buried in the corner, it
proved a worthy adversary.
This only irritated King Erald.
First they had tried to send an
emissary, only to render him a pincushion. Siege engines met ballista bolts,
Towers met flaming arrows, and the white flag was allowed to reach the gate
only to be covered in boiling tar. After the momentum he had found from
capturing that realm-walker, the ruler now saw only walls and corners,
obstacles all. This siege had dragged on for entirely too long – twice he
needed a shave since he had arrived, and twice he cursed his enemies in his
mirror.
"This city will be mine.
By hook or by crook, it will."
The city itself meant little,
while the tomb it protected meant more. More than religious dominance was at
stake, however – if rumors were to be believed, rituals of resurrection were
being prepared for some profane purpose, potentially forcing a returned savior
to choose, or worse, proving that he never was. The King could not let it
happen. Ignorance was the only way to maintain any harmony in his kingdom, and
this was knowledge they had lost for a reason. It was worth any price to
obtain…or prevent.
His highness turned from the
box canyon in frustration, trotting back to his camp irritably and throwing the
curtain to his tent aside. His table was buried beneath heaps of plans, maps
and messages haphazardly scattered about.
"I need…something…"
Somehow, he needed to get past
their defenses, yet there was no way in his mind he could find that would keep
his men alive. It didn't help that the fight with that Realm-Walker had ruined
his…
Wait…
A whistle and a command sent a
lackey from his quarters to the back of the encampment, a trio of guards
returning with him, carrying a small cage glowing with a faint blue hue. Inside
the cage a lean individual rested against the side, looking bored with his
current situation. The guards set the cage down and stepped back, flanking the
exit as one remained immediately behind the enclosure. The king looked to his
captive with a serious expression, trying to hide any and all emotion for fear
of exposing a conversational weakness.
"I need your help."
The 'walker raised an eyebrow,
his voice measured and cold.
"And?"
Erald's royal scowl cracked in
reply.
"I need you to put a hole
in the wall protecting this city."
Disinterest was all the
planeswalker could manage.
"Why can't you do
it?"
His scowl deepened.
"Their defenses are too
great. Their fortifications are insurmountable for my forces. However, I
believe you can get through and at least make a path."
The planeswalker's other
eyebrow raised, curiosity starting to bubble.
"What makes you think I
can do it?"
Shifting uncomfortably in his
seat, the monarch explained.
"I may not remember
everything you did to us…"
"-You're welcome, by the
way-"
"…but I remember enough to
recall you effortlessly dodging literally everything we could aim at you."
The prisoner smiled wide.
"Funny you put it that
way, but I see what you're getting at. Yeah, I could probably do what you require. How do you know I
won't flee as soon as you free me?"
The king gestured to a chest
beside his desk and continued in ignorance of the question.
"I have your effects here.
Some faded within the first few days following our capture of you. I would
apologize, but I assume it is intentional."
"Well, yeah, but-"
"I know you will do this
thing because I am asking you to do so. It is a minimal price to pay, and if
you agree to it, I know you will not run without reason. I have spent much of
the past few months puzzling the nature of your existence. It occurs to me that
with no need for riches or land, you are beholden to whim and honor alone. Whim
brought you to me, so will your honor let you leave?"
"That's tenuous logic at
best. What if I'm a sociopath?"
"Then the fight would have
ended differently."
His eyebrows lowering, the planeswalker
rose to his full height and stood at the door to the small cage.
"What is so valuable to
you that you would lose a prize such as myself willingly?"
"Knowledge we do not need.
I want to stop them from asking."
The captive narrowed his eyes,
thinking it over briefly.
"Alright, I'll do it for
you."
The king motioned to a guard
who bent over the lock to disengage the various magical mechanisms. With a
click, the front panel came loose and lost its glow. The planeswalker stepped
through it, opening the trunk and kneeling to retrieve his things. He placed a
filigree sphere within a buckle adorned with a chevron pattern, tying his sash
through them both before he looked to his captor and smiled again.
"You intrigue me. I never
caught your name."
The king showed no change from
his grave expression.
"Erald."
"You may call me Roz.
Well, your Majesty, I think you should take me to the front."
Slamming the trunk shut, the
Guards led the procession from the royal tent through the encampments, several
of the soldiers they passed dropping their things and gaping at the prisoner
walking free. Roz smiled casually, striding towards the killing field with an
aloof air. The group pulled up to the edge of the range and stopped, Erald
pointing out the features they had encountered thus far.
"The field is long, and
the reach of the arrows should be obvious from their scattered remnants. If you
can put a hole in the wall large enough to get two men through simultaneously,
I can take it from there."
Roz cracked his knuckles for
dramatic effect, smiling wide.
"This never gets
old."
Coolly he strode into the
danger zone, a lone figure framed by corpses. The guards atop the tower took
note of his approach, rounding a Ballista to slow him. The massive bolt buried
itself deep into the earth immediately beside Roz, who showed no interest in
its sudden appearance. More of them ran to the crenelations, their bowstrings
whining as they drew. Rapid twangs rang out, the cloud of points falling neatly
around the 'walker, a smooth circle keeping them mysteriously at bay. As he
stepped over the debris the archers tried once again, another rain of arrows
missing him completely. A final attempt ended exactly as the first two, the
arrows sticking halfway between Erald and the wall as the defense abandoned
their weapons and readied the boiling oil.
Roz paid them no heed, looking
over the wall curiously. The first pot tipped over, oil seeming to consume him
but pooling around an invisible circle at his feet. As it began to cool, it
slowly seeped towards him, no longer dangerous. The tried another, again unable
to directly hit him. Roz reached out to the wall and rested his fingers on it,
closing his eyes as he leaked an eldritch utterance.
A loud crack of thunder tore
through the sky, striking behind the wall to great fanfare. Screams broke out
on the other side, scuffles and cries of steel on steel betraying something
deadly on the other side. One soldier came flying over the wall, landing on the
ground hard enough to finish a partial bisection as his two halves rolled
through the dirt away from each other. Roz turned back to the distant Erald,
whispering something across the field that reached his ears undistorted.
"Watch this."
He knocked on the wall five
times, punctuating it with a yell.
"HEY KORLASH!"
Thunderous crashes shook the
stone as Roz stepped out of the way, the rocks and mortar exploding outward as
a zombified knight in full platemail came crashing through, his voice resonant
and deep.
"OH YEEAAAHHHH!"
