The mass of Joras' army charged, running around him on his horse like river water around a rock. The king stood tall on his steed as did Ragnar across the way. The warriors stampeded towards each other, faces lit with determination and bloodlust. Cries of war boomed from each warrior's throat, their voices heralding battle. Finally, the sea of swords and armor clashed with each other, erupting in pangs of steel that shook the Kingdom. Stomachs were pierced, heads rolled and blood painted the battlefield.
Danticus, alongside his platoon of archers, had taken position upon a large, sturdy wooden platform. There, they provided overwatch, stinging the enemy mercenaries with their zipping arrows. The archer next to him, Darius, fired arrow after arrow, hitting the bullseye that lied between the eyes of his every target. His experience and skill was known, and Danticus struggled to participate half as well as he did. For every five arrows Danticus launched, maybe two of them met their target. He grunted loudly, exclaiming his frustration. The archer gave notice.
"Release as you exhale. Breathe in as you notch your next arrow. Aiming for their head is fine, but a shot to the chest is just as sufficient." He let his readied arrow fly on an exhale. It slid between the ribs of an assaulting warrior. He collapsed to the ground, landing on the arrow, which drove it further through his chest. The archer nodded in approval.
Danticus mimicked him to the best of his ability. He let an arrow fly into the side of a rather large, maul toting warrior. He fell to the ground as his arrow tore through his head.
"Damn good shot, lad, keep it up," Darius said. Danticus smiled and repeated the action. He dropped another warrior, then another, then another. He felt his quiver for more arrows and discovered almost none. He cursed, and tore his eyes away from the large, blood soaked battlefield. Along the platform were buckets of oil, bow components and...quivers, yes! He quickly pulled a few arrows from the leather container and loaded them in his own.
"Shit," said Darius. Danticus eyes went to where the archers were. A large, flaming stone hurled through the air, falling towards their platform. It inched closer and closer.
"Quick, go, go, off the platform!" Yelled an archer from down the line. The archer quickly planted his hand on Danticus' chest and pushed him forward from the platform. The stone smashed into the platform, and bits of wood, stone, and men flew outwards. Danticus was only inches from the flaming stone, and the fiery wisps licked and cooked him in his leather and steel. He quickly scrambled backwards and got to his feet, his head ringing like a bell. His bow was snapped in half and fell from his back into the mud below. He cursed, and pulled his dagger from it's sheath.
Next to him, Darius lay face down in the mud. Danticus knelt next to him and shoved two fingers up against his neck. The warrior was alive, though bloody and bruised.
The rock will offer him better protection than any other place on the battlefield...be best to leave him here, the young archer thought to himself.
Danticus stumbled around the side of the stone, the battle scene now in his full view in all its gory glory. The stench of death assaulted his nostrils, broken, lifeless bodies piled upon more. Mud and blood swirled together, and all was swallowed into the ground.
Ragnar's warriors had seeped through the rest of the field, weaving through Jorden's forces. They pushed further and harder through towards the kingdom, like a virus spreading through someones body.
Danticus took a deep breath, let his nerves simmer. He sprinted towards the battle, dagger clenched tight in his hand. A warrior whose back was towards him hacked away at one of Jorden's warriors, the warrior's shield mere splinters. Danticus came up behind him and shoved his dagger into the mercenaries hairy neck. Blood spurted from his wound like a stream, staining Danticus' skin and leather armor. The warrior gurgled blood in his throat and slammed into the slimy ground below.
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Valadel
FantasyThe First Book of the Valadel Series! For centuries, the race of Man has long ruled the land of Sylvetria, a world the elves and their magical teachings have long faded from. The life they have come to know is shaken, however, when an ancient castl...