UnDrank

"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!"