Song of Seven

Song 6: The Undoing

The carefully laid plans for defending sanctuary evaporated in an instant. Blazing fire and smoke poured out of the treeline as another bolt of arcane flames blasted out of the hands of the blonde, dreadlocked woman floating above the battlefield. Cavalry from Lord Ahrin's side spurred their squealing horses towards the walls of the sanctuary to escape an encroaching wall of searing heat burning behind them. The squads that had set up in small groupings on the outer perimeter had no choice but to meet the cavalry charge head-on. Some carried spears and shields, while others could only swing swords at the broken line of imperial cavalry. Men and women were being trampled down into the snow by panicked horses, while some managed to unhorse a few of the soldiers and push back the charge momentarily. 

Up on the wall, Kellard and the other seated archers, including Andus, had loosed some of their arrows into the battalion of Lord Ahrin's cavalry. It was to little avail, the smoke and clamor of the ensuing chaos made it difficult to aim true and the inexperience of the defenders had even caused a significant amount of arrows to hit the men on their side of the line of battle. Shouting and confusion made things even worse, neither the Vayan soldiers nor the defenders knew which side the black-robed newcomers were on and the fear of seeing a powerful sorceress setting fire to the battlefield had already caused men and women to flee their positions in terror.

"That's her!" Andus gasped from his post beside Kellard, the priest finally noticing the levitating sorceress setting fire to the western side of the battlefield. Throwing his bow to the ground and reaching for his staff, Andus stood and prepared to leap from the defensive wall and dash across the chaotic lines of fighting to reach her.

Kellard gripped the hanging sleeves of Andus' robes and attempted to pull him back down onto the scaffolding, "Andus, stop!". The young hunter dropped his bow as he reached out to grab the priest, both of them nearly losing their balance and toppling off the precarious edge of the rickety wooden battlement. 

As the two struggled to maintain balance, a terror-stricken horse without a rider skidded through the snow and crashed into the support structure of their archer's post. The leather lashings that secured the wood together broke apart and the scaffold collapsed completely into the ground. Kellard and Andus managed to maintain enough balance to roll forward across the snow to break their fall as they landed on the tumultuous battleground. 

Following the line of frenzied cavalry, squads of imperial foot soldiers sprinted through the veil of smoke and fire of the rapidly disintegrating treeline. Bruth and Axel remained at the gates, frantically attempting to bring the scattered defenses to heel as the fighting came closer to the sanctuary gate. "Bruth, command the men not to attack me! I'm going to try and break the enemy's charge!" Axel shouted out to Bruth as he felt the familiar sensation of growing adrenaline pulsing through his veins and musculature. 

Bruth's confusion showed on his face as he watched Axel advance towards a squadron of imperial men, "What? Why would they attack you? Axel!". The din of battle drowned out his questioning.

The former Crown Hound sprinted forward to the nearest squad and focused hard on his transformation. First, he felt his muscles hardening and growing tight inside his leather chest plate. Next, hair began to raise on his arms, thick and black and turning to tufts of fur. Yellowed claws extended from his fingers, each one looking like a gnarled and sharpened dagger. Axel found his jaw shift and change, incisors and canines warping into the meat-shredding teeth of a wolf. The foot soldiers witnessing his transformation froze in fear, taking several paces backward as the Crown Hound's eyes went from human to yellow and canine. 

In between some abominable form of wolf and man, the hound leaped into horrific action. A long swing of his clawed right hand raked across the stomachs of the squad of imperial invaders. Viscera and bright red blood spilled onto the snow as the men fell nearly instantaneously with little more than a gurgling death rattle. Immediately moving to the next group of men, the hound sprinted on all four legs and pounced like a wound spring onto a pair of swordsmen. Both men screamed out as they were crushed by the weight of the sizable wolf-man, their terrified yelling immediately silenced by the long yellow claws being sunk into their throats where the chainmail they wore was weakest.