Rage of The Invaders: Chapter 2: Dust Devils and Sand Storms

Across the desert plain a westerly wind had picked up, it whipped sand and dust in a frenzy coating armor and sword in a thin layer of dust and mixing with sweat to become grime. The would be battlefield of Wildons stood still, the scene sparked a feeling of deja vu forcing an image of a painting from Tare Eratho's childhood upon his thoughts. He remembered sitting across the large parlor of his family's manor in the highlands of Northern Cabina, the sound of his sister's singing drifting through the cracks of the tempered oil wood lining the walls and his mother's cooking supplying its usual rich aroma sent pleasant smells wafting up from the pantry...he sat in the parlor staring at the oil painting of a battlefield, an artistic portrayal of the doom skirmishers arrayed in several ranks against the chaotic dark forces of the nether, the artist had captured every single detail in his work and Tare could just make out the expressions of many a man and the feral grins of the nether demons..a hand on his shoulder roused him from his reverie, he turned to stare into the eyes of Nepiroth D' Zilo.. barely twenty two blue suns, the youth's eyes were flat and cold - the look of a seasoned veteran that had crawled through the queen of nether's own arsehole...and with Nep, who could really tell?
' Any word?' he asked..

Tare grunted a negative,

'we might as well be fish in a barrel'
came a counter to his left, turning around he lazily acknowledged the presence of Ned D' Cruz. The man had a disturbing trait of being there without being there, a testament of his shady experience in assassination arts. Tare weighed the tension present on the lad's face and shrugged

'we stick with the plan', muttered Tare - his voice gruff and dry from the harsh weather.

Ned sighed audibly and a ghost of a smile traced Nep's features. Standing behind the three, like sentinels carved from granite stood twenty thousand men of southwestern cabina and four hundred of Tare's elite group, the Blacks...their dusk black armor stained with dust, their eyes fixated on a single target to the north where an architectural behemoth rose to pierce the very heavens...Castle Wild, last great fortress of nether ancestry, where the Queen of Wildonia waited and perhaps glory.

A rider sped towards the three figures waiting at the vanguard of the western hosts, deciding that it would be unwise to pull more dust over the field commander, he disembarked and proceeded to walk the last few yards, Tare turned on him before he could give his report.

'let me guess, he wants a direct assault after all?'

'Y..yes sir, he said to tell you on his signal'...
Tare spat a thick wad of phlegm and looked past the rider to the eastern flanks,
'what signal would that be?'

Before the courier could say another word, a piercing wail echoed across the battlefield, followed by an earth shaking explosion of dust and sand. The skies above the plains now glowed a pulsing sickly green hue.

Gathering himself, Tare turned on his elite vanguard,

'Choose where you stand on this day, I deliver to you a blank script in history, write your legend with courage and steel or with piss and fear....your choice!He bellowed

An answering bellow resounded amongst the ranks...

'Nether's balls'!!! Exclaimed Ned as his mount shied and involuntarily took a step back from the raging ranks,

'What on earth did you feed them!?' He hissed, putting a hand on the horse to calm it.

'Focus' came the muffled reply,

Tare had his helm on and in a second had begun charging his mount towards the gates of Castle Wild. Ned and Nep fell in behind him, whipping their mounts in his wake, the idiotic grin of battle lust a permanent stain on their features.

                      ........................

A few leagues away from the vanguard, Troll Nihil stood coughing, covered in fumes.

'Damnit woman! Can't you aim that thing properly for once!?

Deejah Dessark, yawned and resumed picking her nails with a slim dagger. Irked, Troll shook off the colored fumes while nursing the notion that the witch might really be trying to kill him, Klaus Vergo stood aside suppressing a laugh, Troll noted his failing efforts

'It's good to see you're in good spirits Klaus cause we'll need a happy hand for rearguard duty'.

The humor promptly drained from the commander's face.

Heh, that will teach the bastard. Troll looked back towards the castle and could make out through the dust the charging figures of Tare, Ned and Nep leading the vanguard followed by the main army.
Mounting his horse, he took a moment to check his weapons and bindings, his sword rested secured on his back and the numerous fighting daggers he carried were tucked firmly in their sheaths along his thighs. Assured that everything was in order he pulled up next to Klaus and Deejah casting a charming smile

'Well what say you we join the fray?'

Deejah chuckled, 'I'm fine where I am glorious leader, my job is to ensure this battle is free from mage influence'.

Cocky hag... 'Right', he looked at Klaus 'let's go stop the crazy queen from loosing the gates of nether on the world of mankind shall we?',

Klaus looked to make up his mind about something then affirmed his cooperation with a lazy shrug.

Poor fool probably still thinks he has a chance with the enchantress. Troll bit back a suggestion and urged his mount forward.

Together they rode pulling up behind the attacking horde of Cabina's host.

Klaus had that worried look that said he had a question but didn't want to look ignorant asking it so as usual it fell on  Troll to guess at his doubt and attempt to clarify them. So speaking aloud Troll said to no one in particular

'Frost and Leon are already within the walls as we speak, we can tear down the southern gate but the inner castle gates will be given to us, Nep and Frost should give us at least that much'

In the horizon Castle Wild pulled closer and the skies suddenly became a flurry of red fiery dots, Troll distractedly muttered,

'brace yourself'.

Nep felt before he saw it, a million quarrels set aflame descending upon the horde, spurring his mount onwards, he caught up with Tare and motioned upwards, Tare spared a glance at the descending volley and shrugged. Sighing, Nep slowed his pace and gave the signal for shields and watched as column's of the charging infantry pulled up their shields above their heads, not a pace lost in their charge, Nep pulled across his own shield, a leather-metal concave construct of Spotorian design. With one hand on the reins, he managed to bring the shield to bear...a pity he couldn't do much for the horse, if the beast survived the volley he wouldn't have to continue on foot. The whispers of the quarrels slicing through the air was now clearly audible across the plains, Nep spared a second to glance at Ned and realized the assassin was no where to be seen but his mount remained charging on oblivious of the absence. Ned swore silently...'damned assassin'. Half a heartbeat later, the first screams of pain tore through the steady monotony of the charge, men fell where quarrels had found their way through gaps in the shield cover, several horses shied and tumbled tossing lucky riders into the air, the unlucky ones fell tumbling with their mounts but the charge tore on becoming a creature of itself like all mad suicidal dashes are wont. Nep grunted as a series of quarrels pelted against his shield, the impact slightly jarring his arm with every hit, miraculously his mount still tore on having received no wounds from the barrage, smiling for that small mercy and feeling the battle lust rise again he let out a bellow that was caught and echoed by the maniacal vanguard columns. Riding ahead Tare turned his head at the war cries, a feral grin just visible underneath his dark helm marked his dark features and cast an unhinged look into his eyes...his voice thundered over the din of the charge

'Keep your gods close men but your blade closer!!!

A cacophony of roars and cheers rippled through the charging columns. Nep tried to fight against the madness that threatened to engulf him as it had the entire vanguard, his heart beat roared within his chest, he found he was holding his sword in his guiding arm, his mount thundered onwards as if the beast itself needed no guidance to its destination, an alien feeling swept over him then, he felt detached from reality but this was nothing new to him or to any veteran of the Dark Brigade, arguably the most ferocious infantry warriors south of Cabina but the Darks were just glorified grunts without their war leader......Tare Erathos, a legend amongst warriors. it was said, worshipped as a  war god. A mortal manifestation of the god Borukai.

Nep chuckled besides himself, true Tare was the finest swordsman he'd ever known but a god? No...that title belonged to someone else.

The castle's main gates rose quickly into view.

'Seige Squad' roared Tare and the leading vanguard column in arrowhead formation split into two - from the separation emerged a special unit 'Tier Zero'. They cradled an alchemic weapon in their hands, the maw of its dark barrel glowed a faint greenish hue..Nep reflexively closed his palms over his ears and not a second too soon, a high pitched explosion sucked all sound from the battlefield.....ahead the southern walls of Castle Wild shivered from the impact and Nep could make out figures dive, screaming from the battlements and walls...the southern gate was a thing of broken timber and stone.

'Charge!!!!' Came a bellow from behind him and he turned to see Troll and Klaus mad grins on their faces bearing down on him. Turning, he spurred on his mount, they were maniacs every one of them.