Chronicles of Draezoln

Tales of the world of Draezoln

Chapter 8-6

Sergeant Gerim awakened his squad as evening fell. Garkhen arose with a bit of stiffness in his limbs, and a hint of fatigue irritating his eyes, but arose he did. Quickly he put on his armor, grateful for the magic that made that task much easier for him than his fellow soldiers, and then joined his squad for a hurried meal.

What little conversation there was among them was subdued, and the relative hush around them suggested others also had little desire for talk. Once they had finished, the squad marched to its post. They lined up along the crenelations at the edge of the wall-walk, peering out into the gathering darkness for a hint of their foes.

They did not have to wait long.

Garkhen’s draconic eyes could pick out the advancing army of the walking dead, and even some of the hooded figures among them. Some of the undead carried ladders, and he thought he could see a long log, likely a ram, off to the east nearer the gates. Then he noticed some of the robed figures stop.

He had only enough time to realize what they were doing and chant a warding spell-prayer before the first spells hit. A ball of fire exploded in midair in front of Garkhen, blocked by his ward. He jumped slightly at the sight of it, and at the realization of how near it had come to striking before he was ready. Other spellcasters had thrown up similar defenses along the wall… but not everywhere.

But the half-dragon had no time to look around him. More spells came pounding in, and he found himself hard-pressed to maintain his ward, chanting and holding up his symbol of Bahamut. The twang of bows next to him startled him slightly, but he kept his concentration and the shielding magics it held.

Finally the barrage ended, just in time for the first ladders to swing up to the wall. One clanged onto the stone to Garkhen’s left, and he instinctively moved over to it, pulling out his mace as the archers made way. He was dimly aware that some of his squad-mates were following him, exchanging places with the archers who were less well-equipped for a melee.

He had just gotten himself into position when the first skeletal hand reached up to the last rung of the ladder.


Hey, look, we’re finally getting to the battle! Aren’t you all so happy?

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