XXXII. Between No and Yes

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For all of their power and planning, the legions were not prepared for a fighting force appearing out of thin air. Sorne launched herself at the guards around the closest ram, hitting them like a wave of fury. Tóla and Dálkr were the next, shaping into their towering true forms as soon as their feet hit the scorched earth beside the walls. Both giants buried their spears in the earth to save them for later and poured their strength into breaking the mechanisms with hacking blows of great swords. The ram was hardened against falling stones and arrows, but the giants hit from the side as much as from above. The air was rent by the sound of cracking wood and war screams like banshee wails from the giant warriors. The others followed Áshildr and Sorne, crushing enemy warriors and laying waste to the legionnaires unfortunate enough to be close. The njoshari who came next swept up everything trying to circle around the giants to attack from behind.

The Genevais were the next out of the portal, surrounding Cecilie in a protective layer. The mage announced her arrival with a massive detonation of power inside the next ram. The powerful engine of war exploded, shrapnel ripping outwards to destroy flesh and break bones of everyone near it, which was fortunately only legionnaires. The mage took a deep breath and pulled power out of the dying enemy, flinging their souls into the next world. The blood coursed through the sand towards her, forming arcane patterns that she used to bolster her power and channel the stolen life-force more effectively. A true Leyan battlemage in motion, despite the fact that their knowledge of the ancient ways was not as polished as that of the elves, was a behemoth on the battlefield easily equalling a giant.

Nirsal surged through the portal, her arrival a firestorm as she spat dragonsfire right into the midst of a formation forming square. The dragon took wing with a single leap and a powerful flap, racing up into the sky. She was back in seconds, swooping down with a gout of flame that melted through even the black armor, catching a man in her talons as she soared upwards and dropped him a good hundred or so feet. His landing was hard and brutal, his spine breaking on impact.

Sorne was a whirlwind on the battlefield, moving like a dancer as her spear flashed in the darkness illuminated only by the campfires and Nirsal's flame. To the orcs, it might as well have been daylight, but her vision was still imperfect. The light was dim and the black armor did not reflect shine. However, she stayed close to the fire raining down from the sky, which easily gave her enough light. The giants formed a wedge, their backs to the wall, with the Genevais behind them. Vridash was coaching the archers where to aim and when to fire, his voice booming over the utter chaos of the field. The formation shifted as they advanced towards the last ram, but they were always protecting each other's backs as the njoshari darted out to inflict damage before retreating back.

Dálkr picked up the remnants of the first ram and hurled it at the third one. It struck with a powerful clash. However, the legionnaires seemed to understand now what they were doing. They were starting to form squares and then blocks between the group and the next ram, advancing towards their foes. The shrill screams of whistles alerted the nearby units to start converging on the giants and orcs ripping them apart.

Sorne spotted one with a symbol painted in green on his armor. She wasn't an expert on their foe, but she knew how to identify a commander. The fact that he had the whistle only reinforced that. She slipped past Áshildr and sprinted for him, moving so quickly that his defenders didn't have time to react. When he raised his sword, she caught his foot and slammed into him with her shield, breaking his ankle. She drove her spear right into his face, rewarded by a sickening crunch, though the spear was so sharp that the resistance only lasted for a split second. She ripped it out immediately, foot on his chest. She drove the spearbutt backwards, slamming into the soldier trying to close behind her. Their weapons just barely failed to pierce her armor, though she felt the shock from the blows, dampened, but present. The bastards were strong, she'd give them that.

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