Kevin McLaughlin
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Chapter 148 - Breaking the Line
🕑 Added 2025-04-24 22:20:45 +0000 UTCBallistas—or was it ballistae? I was never sure where I ought to be using Latin endings and where I should just stick with English. Whatever they were called, though, they were bad news.
The second I saw the massive bolts start flying, my stomach dropped. Those things could punch clean through a tank, and while my undead bruisers weren’t feather weights, even Sue or Plum couldn’t take too many of those. One good hit to a leg could cripple them. Two might bring them down for good.
There was no way was I letting that happen, of course.
I ordered the bigger undead to continue pressing their attack, through the link with them. Then I ordered the fire skeletons to suppress the left hand ballista. That was the one which had just fired. It would take them a minute to get another spear loaded and the winch completely wound. That gave me time to deal with the more immediate threat personally. The righthand weapon was armed and just about ready to fire.
I kicked off from Sue’s back, launching myself skyward on a burst of Flight. Wind tore past my face as I accelerated, angling toward the siege weapon. The goblins had mounted it high on a reinforced wooden platform, wedged behind the double-thick palisade wall. It gave them a hell of a firing arc, and it was about to give me a hell of a headache if I didn’t do something fast.
One goblin struggled with the massive crank while another crouched beside the weapon, pivoting it so that it was aimed directly at Sue. Neither of them saw me coming until I was right on top of them.
I hit the platform hard, boots slamming into the wood with a crunch that made one of the goblins yelp and spin to face me. I raised one hand and cast Drain Life. A bolt of black energy shot from my palm and hit the crank-turning goblin square in the chest. He shuddered and dropped, collapsing into a heap as the life bled out of him and into me. The other goblin scrambled backward, reaching for a blade.
I didn’t let him draw it. I lunged forward, blade flashing. My short sword wasn’t fancy, but it was sharp and fast, and the goblin’s throat was an easy target. He gargled once and went down, blood already soaking into the planks beneath him.
But more were coming. I could hear the scrape of claws and boots on wood and whirled about to see a half dozen goblins swarm toward the platform along the battlements. I had no time to fight them all, but I couldn’t let them keep the ballista in action either. I turned, grabbed the heavy drawstring of the ballista, and hacked it in half with two solid blows. The string snapped with a whipcrack, lashing back into the mechanism and rendering the whole siege weapon useless.
“Try and shoot that, assholes,” I muttered.
Then I vaulted over the side of the platform, caught the air with Flight, and peeled off toward the second ballista before they could regroup and decide throwing spears at me was a good idea.
Sue bellowed below me, steam curling from her nostrils, and somewhere behind her, Plum let out a bone-rattling screech.
I banked wide to avoid the fresh bolts whistling past me. These weren’t from ballistas, just javelins and crude arrows, but even those could ruin my day if they caught me in the wrong spot. I dipped low, then shot up again, catching a glimpse of the battlefield from above.
The undead were still pressing forward. Sue was bellowing and stomping her way toward the main gate, flames curling from her nostrils, but I could see the goblins starting to organize resistance on the wall.
I ordered Sue to target the gatehouse with Fireballs, to keep pounding it and not let up until I say so. She roared in response, then opened her skeletal jaws and spat fire.
The gatehouse lit up with the first blast. Wood blackened while the flames sent goblins diving for cover. I saw a pair of them tumble over the wall in flames. The second blast hit just above the doors, this one sending burning splinters flying. It wouldn’t break through immediately, but it was sure making a solid attempt.
The fire skeletons were doing a good job suppressing the second ballista, their small but deadly bursts of flame forcing the goblins operating the device to keep their heads down. I saw one goblin go down shrieking, his leather jerkin catching fire. Another stumbled back, half his face scorched, and dropped behind the parapet.
I sent a mental commend to Plum to tear the wall down, to smash her way right through, if she could. That was going to be easier said than done, and it was only going to work if I could keep that other siege engine from targeting her.
The massive undead chicken let out a shriek that made my bones vibrate, then charged forward. With a thunderous whump, she slammed into the palisade like a wrecking ball, her bony feet clawing for purchase. The wall didn’t fall, not yet—but two of the logs cracked and splinters flew as Plum backed up for another charge.
Good. That would keep them busy. Now it was up to me to deal with the other ballista! I banked sharply and angled for the platform. It had only just finished reloading—the goblins on it were fumbling with the crank as they tried to aim the thing toward Plum. Not this time.
I landed hard on the platform, knees bending with the impact, and came up already moving. The first goblin barely had time to squeal before I rammed my blade into his side, spinning and driving him backward off the platform. He flailed once, then disappeared into the gap between the wall and the forest below. These goblins were mostly tier two, so they weren’t a major threat to me. I was faster, stronger, and had more staying power than any of them.
The second goblin snarled and lunged, brandishing a hooked axe. I ducked under the swing and drove my elbow into his gut, then spun my sword around for the finishing blow—
—and lightning hit me.
I never even saw it coming. One second I was in motion, the next I was flying through the air, pain lancing through every nerve ending. It was like getting punched by a god. My back hit the battlement with crushing force, knocking all my wind away. The world blurred. Everything smelled like ozone. My skin crawled with leftover static, and every muscle screamed in protest.
I rolled onto my side, coughing, eyes blinking rapidly to clear the tears of pain. Fifteen feet away, a goblin stood on the battlements, a blue-glowing staff in hand, lightning still crackling along its surface. It wasn’t the first time we’d seen goblins using magic, but I’d been hoping for something a little easier this time around.
I gritted my teeth, shoved myself up from the platform with one hand, and pointed my other straight at him, casting Drain Life. The spell leapt from my fingertips like a black whip, lashing across the space between us and slamming into the goblin’s chest. He staggered backward a step, staff jerking, eyes going wide. His skin shriveled, dark veins surfacing across his neck as I tore energy from him.
But he didn’t fall! He was tier five, I realized. That made him much stronger than the others. My Drain hurt him, yeah—but it wasn’t enough to kill him. I was going to need to hit him at least once more.
He screamed and thrust his staff forward again, and his second bolt of lightning hit me right in the center of my chest armor.
This one I saw coming, but there was no dodging lightning, not even as fast as I could move. Pain swallowed me whole, bright and blinding. I screamed, more out of reflex than anything else, my voice lost under the thundercrack of the blast. My feet left the ground. I flew backward again, slammed into the side of the wall, and bounced off with enough force to send me crashing painfully back into the platform.
The world tilted. My ribs burned. My skin felt scorched and raw. I tasted blood. If it hadn’t been for the chunk of health I’d pulled with that last Drain, I think that would’ve killed me.
The goblin mage raised his staff again. I reached for my magic, but the timer for my Drain Life wasn’t up. I could feel it ticking down in my mind—five seconds, or so, and I could cast again. But he wasn’t going to give me that kind of time. The goblin’s staff was already crackling with another spell.
The goblin’s staff crackled again, arcs of lightning dancing from its crystal tip. I saw his lips move, shaping the same incantation. My Drain Life still wasn’t ready—three seconds, maybe two—and I wasn’t going to live that long if I took another blast like the last one.
But I’d seen something, a detail in his posture I hadn’t registered until now. I missed seeing him cast the first lightning bolt, but I saw the second one. When he unleashed the spell, he’d aimed the tip of the staff directly at me. The lightning leaped directly from the tip of the staff to its target—me.
All I had to do was give it a tastier target. I rushed back to my feet, sword in hand, ready for the right moment. His spell was going to go off seconds before my Drain was ready to cast again, and I wasn’t sure I’d survive another shot. I had to time this perfectly. The goblin braced himself, lifting the staff with both hands. The moment he aimed the tip at me, I whipped my right arm forward and threw.
My sword left my fingers in a blur of motion, the blade whistling through the air like a javelin, end over end.
The goblin cast. Lightning blasted from the tip of the staff. But instead of reaching toward me, it found a nearer, tastier target—my sword! Drawn to the metal, the electricity wreathed itself around my blade as the weapon flew true. The bolt lanced straight into the spinning sword just as it reached the apex of its arc—and then carried it, amplified, straight into the goblin mage’s chest.
There was a bright flash as the spell’s power discharged back into its caster. The goblin convulsed, his staff jerking wildly as arcs of electricity played across his robes. For a heartbeat he stood there, arms flung wide, mouth open in a soundless scream. Then the staff burst with a sharp crack, the gemstone at its head shattering into glowing shards. The goblin’s body fell to the parapet, trailing smoke as he went down. He didn’t get back up again.
I stared for a second, chest heaving, the scent of ozone thick in the air.
“Well,” I rasped, “that worked.”
I staggered, body trembling. My Drain was back up, so I cast it on the nearest goblin I could find, refilling my health a little. Then I limped toward where my sword had fallen beside the crumpled mage. I scooped it up, eyes flicking around for more enemies.
But there were none on this stretch of wall. Not anymore.
Below me, Sue roared again, and Plum slammed into the palisade with another bone-shaking whump. The battle was still going—but the biggest threats to my undead bruisers were gone. It was time to crack this fort wide open.
Comments
Kevin McLaughlin
Thanks, Mark. I appreciate you spotting my typos!
MARK FRINK
Thank you for 147, no issues found. However, "but to of the logs" should be "but two of the logs"
Kevin McLaughlin
I have no idea! I wrote and posted it last night, but something weird happened. Just reposted it again now, so it's all set. Sorry about that!
MARK FRINK
What happened to 147?
