finding purchase on the thinnest ledges and cracks in the stones.
The warning bells were ringing in the background, and the doors of interior fortress of the castle burst open to disgorge dozens of protectors. Bridget gestured and called three quarters of the forces still in the courtyard to stop the new defenders, while she took the remainder near the gates.
Of the warriors she brought with her, a few had already fallen, but they were doing remarkably well against these enemies. A soldier with full field plate and a longsword and shield charged her just as she was trying to figure out why these men were such poor fighters.
She swung her light blade in an arc, knocking the soldier's lunge off course, and followed up with a casual lopping swing from her heavy blade. The soldier managed to raise his shield in time, and the steel banding held. The impact knocked the helmet off the man's head and left him stumbling.
The man appeared to not only be old and gray, but also underfed. Bridget frowned, tilting her head.
"You sure you want to do this?" she asked, walking lightly around the man as he re-set his fighting stance. "I don't want to kill you if I don't have to."
The man didn't reply, instead he moved in aggressively, swinging his sword left and right. Bridget hopped back out of his reach, and swung her large cleaver at the man's shield arm hard. The metal on the shield gave, wood splintered from her strike and the man's arm gave an audible crunch as bone was pulverized. She reversed her blade and swung it around towards the man's sword arm. He desperately tried to parry it, but the weapon bent and went flying from his grip.
She stepped up to the man and kicked him in the chest, sending the injured man sprawling. "Surrender if you can." she said, an anger burning in her eyes. "Because I am the only one who would show you mercy."
The man cried for mercy, grasping his broken forearm. Bridget sighed and shook her head as she walked away. There were two gates, one iron banded wood, and the other an iron portcullis. They were designed so the gates would open with a pull of two levers, but the portcullis had to be raised on a wheel crank. It had been designed to drop at a moment's notice, which meant that it would take time and manpower to retract. She whistled and pointed, sending two of her warriors.
They just had to hold the gatehouse long enough to get the doors open. Now, without the archers to rain death down on them, Wrach's troops could surge up the streets despite the slicked roads.
She turned back towards the courtyard, surveying the battle. Though there were nearly three times as many soldiers as there were fighters on her side, they were doing remarkably well. The wolfmen were literally tearing through the archers on the walls. They weren't actually as strong or hale as the Balatoran warriors, but they had many traits of the wolves that gave them distinct advantages. The older ones were actually harder to kill than the younger; it seemed like they healed faster and faster the older they became.
"Have we found the mage?" Bridget asked aloud of the six men and women guarding the gatehouse. One of the women shook her head, drawing a hatchet from her belt and throwing it into the melee across the courtyard with ease. The tumbling axe caught a soldier in the head, sticking an inch into the plate of his helmet and dropping him like a puppet with cut strings.
"Nope." she replied, drawing another hatchet and taking aim. "There was a guy in clothes running around, but I think the wolves chased him back inside the castle."
Bridget nodded, watching as the woman threw another axe into the melee. Her target managed to raise his shield in time to catch the weapon, though the axe stuck to the shield and weighed it down. The woman grimaced in disappointment.
"I'm going to go over there and see if we can find that wizard." Bridget declared. "Get that portcullis open, no matter what."
"Got it." the woman replied. Bridget set
The warning bells were ringing in the background, and the doors of interior fortress of the castle burst open to disgorge dozens of protectors. Bridget gestured and called three quarters of the forces still in the courtyard to stop the new defenders, while she took the remainder near the gates.
Of the warriors she brought with her, a few had already fallen, but they were doing remarkably well against these enemies. A soldier with full field plate and a longsword and shield charged her just as she was trying to figure out why these men were such poor fighters.
She swung her light blade in an arc, knocking the soldier's lunge off course, and followed up with a casual lopping swing from her heavy blade. The soldier managed to raise his shield in time, and the steel banding held. The impact knocked the helmet off the man's head and left him stumbling.
The man appeared to not only be old and gray, but also underfed. Bridget frowned, tilting her head.
"You sure you want to do this?" she asked, walking lightly around the man as he re-set his fighting stance. "I don't want to kill you if I don't have to."
The man didn't reply, instead he moved in aggressively, swinging his sword left and right. Bridget hopped back out of his reach, and swung her large cleaver at the man's shield arm hard. The metal on the shield gave, wood splintered from her strike and the man's arm gave an audible crunch as bone was pulverized. She reversed her blade and swung it around towards the man's sword arm. He desperately tried to parry it, but the weapon bent and went flying from his grip.
She stepped up to the man and kicked him in the chest, sending the injured man sprawling. "Surrender if you can." she said, an anger burning in her eyes. "Because I am the only one who would show you mercy."
The man cried for mercy, grasping his broken forearm. Bridget sighed and shook her head as she walked away. There were two gates, one iron banded wood, and the other an iron portcullis. They were designed so the gates would open with a pull of two levers, but the portcullis had to be raised on a wheel crank. It had been designed to drop at a moment's notice, which meant that it would take time and manpower to retract. She whistled and pointed, sending two of her warriors.
They just had to hold the gatehouse long enough to get the doors open. Now, without the archers to rain death down on them, Wrach's troops could surge up the streets despite the slicked roads.
She turned back towards the courtyard, surveying the battle. Though there were nearly three times as many soldiers as there were fighters on her side, they were doing remarkably well. The wolfmen were literally tearing through the archers on the walls. They weren't actually as strong or hale as the Balatoran warriors, but they had many traits of the wolves that gave them distinct advantages. The older ones were actually harder to kill than the younger; it seemed like they healed faster and faster the older they became.
"Have we found the mage?" Bridget asked aloud of the six men and women guarding the gatehouse. One of the women shook her head, drawing a hatchet from her belt and throwing it into the melee across the courtyard with ease. The tumbling axe caught a soldier in the head, sticking an inch into the plate of his helmet and dropping him like a puppet with cut strings.
"Nope." she replied, drawing another hatchet and taking aim. "There was a guy in clothes running around, but I think the wolves chased him back inside the castle."
Bridget nodded, watching as the woman threw another axe into the melee. Her target managed to raise his shield in time to catch the weapon, though the axe stuck to the shield and weighed it down. The woman grimaced in disappointment.
"I'm going to go over there and see if we can find that wizard." Bridget declared. "Get that portcullis open, no matter what."
"Got it." the woman replied. Bridget set
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