of men—yet he did not flinch; on the
contrary, he attacked.
Duncan charged
forward and ducked as the first man slashed for his head, then came up and
stabbed the man in the gut. A soldier slashed at his back, and Duncan spun and
blocked it—then spun the soldier’s sword around and stabbed him in the chest.
Duncan fought
back heroically as he was attacked from all sides, recalling days of old as he
found himself immersed in battle, parrying on all sides. When men got too close
to reach with his sword, he leaned back and kicked them, creating space for
himself to swing; in other instances, he spun and elbowed, fighting hand to
hand in the close quarters when he needed to. Men dropped all around him, and
none could get close.
Duncan soon
found himself joined by Anvin and Arthfael as dozens of his men rushed forward
to help. As Anvin joined him, he blocked the blow of a solider charging Duncan
from behind, sparing him a wound—while Arthfael stepped forward, raised his
sword, and blocked a hatchet coming down for Duncan’s face. As he did, Duncan
simultaneously stepped forward and stabbed the solider in the gut, he and Arthfael
working together to fell him.
They all fought
as one, a well-oiled machine from all their years together, all guarding each
other’s backs as the clang of swords and armor pierced the night.
All around him,
Duncan saw his men boarding ships up and down the harbor, attacking the fleet
as one. Pandesian soldiers streamed forth, all fully roused, some of them on
fire, and the warriors of Escalon all fought bravely amidst the flames, none
backing down even as fires raged all around them. Duncan himself fought until
he could lift his arms no more, sweating, smoke stinging his eyes, swords
clanging all around him, dropping one soldier after the next that tried to
escape to shore.
Finally, the
fires grew too hot; Pandesian soldiers, in full armor, trapped by the flames,
leapt from their ships into the waters below—and Duncan led his men off the
ship and over the stone wall, back to the harbor side. Duncan heard a shout and
he turned and noticed hundreds of Pandesian soldiers trying to follow, to
pursue them off the ship.
As he stepped
down onto dry land, the last of his men to leave, he turned, raised his sword
high, and hacked at the great ropes binding the ships to shore.
“THE ROPES!”
Duncan yelled.
Up and down the
harbor his men followed his lead and severed the ropes anchoring the fleet to
shore. As the great rope before him finally snapped, Duncan placed his boot on
the deck and with a great kick, shoved the ship away from shore. He groaned
from the effort, and Anvin, Arthfael and dozens of others rushed forward,
joining him. As one, they all shoved the burning hull away from shore.
The flaming
ship, filled with shrieking soldiers, drifted inevitably toward the other ships
in the harbor—and as it reached them, it set them aflame, too. Men leapt from
ships by the hundreds, shrieking, sinking into the black waters.
Duncan stood
there, breathing hard and watching, his eyes aglow, as the whole harbor soon
lit in a great conflagration. Thousands of Pandesians, fully roused now,
emerged from the lower decks of other ships—but it was too late. They surfaced
to a wall of flame, and left with the choice of being burned alive or jumping
into a death by drowning in the freezing waters, they all chose the latter.
Duncan watched as the harbor soon filled with hundreds of bodies, bobbing in the
waters, crying out as they tried to swim for shore.
“ARCHERS!”
Duncan yelled.
His archers took
aim and fired volley after volley, aiming for the flailing soldiers. One by one
they found their marks, and the Pandesians sank.
The waters
became slick with blood, and soon there came snapping noises and the sound of
shrieking, as the waters were filled with glowing yellow sharks, feasting in
the blood-filled harbor.
Duncan looked
out and it slowly dawned on him what he had done: the entire Pandesian
contrary, he attacked.
Duncan charged
forward and ducked as the first man slashed for his head, then came up and
stabbed the man in the gut. A soldier slashed at his back, and Duncan spun and
blocked it—then spun the soldier’s sword around and stabbed him in the chest.
Duncan fought
back heroically as he was attacked from all sides, recalling days of old as he
found himself immersed in battle, parrying on all sides. When men got too close
to reach with his sword, he leaned back and kicked them, creating space for
himself to swing; in other instances, he spun and elbowed, fighting hand to
hand in the close quarters when he needed to. Men dropped all around him, and
none could get close.
Duncan soon
found himself joined by Anvin and Arthfael as dozens of his men rushed forward
to help. As Anvin joined him, he blocked the blow of a solider charging Duncan
from behind, sparing him a wound—while Arthfael stepped forward, raised his
sword, and blocked a hatchet coming down for Duncan’s face. As he did, Duncan
simultaneously stepped forward and stabbed the solider in the gut, he and Arthfael
working together to fell him.
They all fought
as one, a well-oiled machine from all their years together, all guarding each
other’s backs as the clang of swords and armor pierced the night.
All around him,
Duncan saw his men boarding ships up and down the harbor, attacking the fleet
as one. Pandesian soldiers streamed forth, all fully roused, some of them on
fire, and the warriors of Escalon all fought bravely amidst the flames, none
backing down even as fires raged all around them. Duncan himself fought until
he could lift his arms no more, sweating, smoke stinging his eyes, swords
clanging all around him, dropping one soldier after the next that tried to
escape to shore.
Finally, the
fires grew too hot; Pandesian soldiers, in full armor, trapped by the flames,
leapt from their ships into the waters below—and Duncan led his men off the
ship and over the stone wall, back to the harbor side. Duncan heard a shout and
he turned and noticed hundreds of Pandesian soldiers trying to follow, to
pursue them off the ship.
As he stepped
down onto dry land, the last of his men to leave, he turned, raised his sword
high, and hacked at the great ropes binding the ships to shore.
“THE ROPES!”
Duncan yelled.
Up and down the
harbor his men followed his lead and severed the ropes anchoring the fleet to
shore. As the great rope before him finally snapped, Duncan placed his boot on
the deck and with a great kick, shoved the ship away from shore. He groaned
from the effort, and Anvin, Arthfael and dozens of others rushed forward,
joining him. As one, they all shoved the burning hull away from shore.
The flaming
ship, filled with shrieking soldiers, drifted inevitably toward the other ships
in the harbor—and as it reached them, it set them aflame, too. Men leapt from
ships by the hundreds, shrieking, sinking into the black waters.
Duncan stood
there, breathing hard and watching, his eyes aglow, as the whole harbor soon
lit in a great conflagration. Thousands of Pandesians, fully roused now,
emerged from the lower decks of other ships—but it was too late. They surfaced
to a wall of flame, and left with the choice of being burned alive or jumping
into a death by drowning in the freezing waters, they all chose the latter.
Duncan watched as the harbor soon filled with hundreds of bodies, bobbing in the
waters, crying out as they tried to swim for shore.
“ARCHERS!”
Duncan yelled.
His archers took
aim and fired volley after volley, aiming for the flailing soldiers. One by one
they found their marks, and the Pandesians sank.
The waters
became slick with blood, and soon there came snapping noises and the sound of
shrieking, as the waters were filled with glowing yellow sharks, feasting in
the blood-filled harbor.
Duncan looked
out and it slowly dawned on him what he had done: the entire Pandesian
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