Chapter 45: Battle for Riven (Part 1)

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Riven Plains

9:45 a.m 9th Maha, 1092.

Thunderous roars crashed against the walls of Riven like herds of stampeding bulls. The lizardmen atop Riven's walls felt a shiver run down their spines – but not of fear. No, this was their first challenge in years.

Bang Bang Bang Bang BangBangBang...

The clashing of swords against shields reared from the walls, soon accompanied by the lizardmen's rallying screams. Their shouts clashed against the roars of the Kertan army. Initially, the lizardmen's chants overwhelmed the outnumbered kertan soldiers. But, then, as if annoyed by the challenge, the Summoned joined in the chant, their gamers' pride refusing to lose to some low-level monsters. And so the challenge reached a stable stalemate, with no ground yielded to either army.

Absalon listened to the battle of wills with a pleasing smile. He would have to remember to thank the lizards for their immediate reply to the soldiers' chants. While he had no doubt about the Kertans' willingness to the battle, Summoned were an unpredictable and selfish bunch. If things seemed sour, they would abandon him without a second thought.

Fortunately, this seemingly redundant challenge had completed Absalon's most task: raising the players' morale. The old general lacked the eloquence of the commander in King's Journey. Thankfully, there was more than one way to motivate people. He had chosen to manipulate one of the more easily provoked emotions: pride.

"Absalon," Nyte called, as he rode up next to his leader. "Preparations are ready."

"The surprises?"

"Should be here in a few hours."

Absalon nodded. The general's expression then turned stiff as he raised his hands. Silence reigned over the plains as the terse soldiers awaited the command.

Absalon did not disappoint. With a mighty shout, he ordered, "Take What Is Yours!"

"HuuOOO!" cried the Kertan arm as they tore through the plains, led by Nyte. Their collective speed kicked up an intimidating amount of dust as they bore down the walls.

The lizardmen, or rather, drakul as they preferred to be called, were unfazed by the charge. Their bowmen and wise-men replaced the warriors on the wall. They carefully lined up their shots, then fired.

"Shields!" Nyte ordered.

As organized, those with bucklers or shields protected themselves, while the rest depended on the mages for assistance. However, it was not enough. As the hail of arrows and elementals struck the unprotected, the war for Riven recorded its first victims.

"Archers!" Nyte ordered. He gripped his broadsword and swung with all his might. It released a massive shockwave that blasted the projectiles out of the sky.

The Kertan army likewise released their own volley of projectiles, but less than a third managed to reach the ridiculously high wall. Of those that made it, even less actually hit an enemy.

At the end of the first volley, the Drakul only recorded six fatalities, as opposed to the Kertans' seventy-nine.

Nyte was unperturbed by the statistics. "Charge!"

The players ran behind him as he swatted the projectiles out the air, edging ever closer to the city.

Boom!

An explosion uprooted the earth ahead of him, and he fought to keep his mount under control.

Rive wall slid open in several places to reveal mouths of cannons. With thunderous booms, the earth erupted right in front of the Kertan army.

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