Fantatic Waltz

[Brian]

The men murmur that they're ready, and the doors to the defensive wall begin to ponderously swing open.  The battlefield is lit red by the beacons that lord Kevin had lit, but at least you'll be able to see.

"Here comes the fun part," Breke mutters, shifting from foot to foot.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn says nothing, but switches his grip on the chains to his left hand, and draws his sword.

[Brian]

The doors are flung open completely, and Lammermore nods.  "Let's advance," he calls out.  "We stop just on the other side of the door, as discussed; keep clear of the moats."

With that, the formation begins to advance at a stilted jog.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn follows, keeping position.

[Brian]

Lammermore leads you into the bridge across the dry moat -- the frozen moat is not frozen at the moment, but actually liquid.  As you cross the threshold beneath the wall, however, fire bursts in the dry moat, flaring high and burning brightly, leaving a defensive wall, with Lammermore and his men in the one gap through this structure.

Out beyond the fiery wall, you can see the seemingly endless tide of the Dreadmarch roll in.  The traps Radagast set are violently effective -- they cut swaths into the advance ... but that doesn't really stop the Dreadmarch, either.  The explosions appear to be propelling shrapnel into the oncoming horde.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn frowns, suddenly.  "If we're supposed to keep the retreat open," he mutters to Breke, "and Lammermore is blocking the only narrow path through a moat full of fire... what does the Dreadmarch have that can get through or around that moat?  Or are they going to use nothing but numbers?"

[Brian]

"They don't usually bother with anything else, no," Breke replies, shrugging.  "At least, I'm told.  Not too much nasty stuff in the lower lands."  He pauses, and cocks his head to one side.  "Saw a hydra, once."

[Bjorn]

"Oh?" says Bjorn.  "Much of a problem?"

[Brian]

"Not really.  Just figured that was one lake we didn't need to fish in and moved on."  He frowns.  "Pretty much they can't get out of water, so ... no worries."

The dreadmarch continues advancing, now close enough you can hear them yelling before the traps stagger them a bit.  You're sure they've lost thousands of soldiers already, by now.

[Bjorn]

I hate waiting, floats across Bjorn's mind.  But I'm... too calm.  Don't think about it.  Don't think.  Just...

And he waits.

[Brian]

The Dreadmarch clears the last of Radagast's traps, and begins charging Lammermore and his men.  Lammermore barks a few quick commands, and everyone gets into a defensive position, ranks of spears four men deep, and twenty wide forming a blockade that it seems the slavering horde will gladly throw itself on.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn switches most of his attention to watch the skies above -- for rocks and for arrows coming down on his position.  It'll be pretty obvious once the Dreadmarch starts making their way through Lammermore's group, he bets.

[Brian]

The keep's own archers begin going to work at about this time.

The first salvo of arrows in the most impressive.  You look up in time to see about two thousand arrows fly across the wall, all of them converging on the head of the advancing charge.  Dozens go awry, but countless more find their mark.  The Dreadmarch splits around the pile of bodies the arrows pile up, and begin widening their charge, which in turn prompts the archers to diversify their targets.

You can hear yelling from behind you, up on the wall -- apparently archer squadron leaders are trying to specify targets.  There's probably about thirty seconds left before the Dreadmarch reaches your defensive formation.

[Bjorn]

"Here they come," Bjorn says, abstractly.

[Brian]

At about that point, what looks like a lightning bolt flies from up about where the archers are, then vanishes beneath your vision, striking the ground somewhere ahead of you.  It surfaces occasionally, like some thrashing beast, and the scent of scorched flesh fills the air.  There's a lot of dreadmarch soldiers fleeing, and more than one or two look like they're being electrocuted (not in any realistic way, but in a cartoony, painfully visible ribbons of electricity dancing across their bodies kind of way) before it ends.

When it DOES end, you think that you've found the general, though.

An ogre, as big as you expected from the description, every single inch of its body sealed inside a jet black suit of armor.  There's an axe that has to weigh as much as you strapped to its back, and it's carrying -- of all things -- a sling.  It's attention appears to be the wall overhead, however.

It begins whirling the sling.