A Stand at the Gates. . . Though I have always considered myself a citizen of Britain, I have adopted the city of Trinsic as my home during its time of most desperate need. I have made it my habit--since my initial taste of the war being waged here on an almost nightly basis--to make my bed on the battlements to the south of the main gate. Due to the assaults mainly coming in the evening, I have begun to do the lion's share of my sleeping during the day so that I might be more fully rested for the tempestuous nights. Though, of course, in times such as these, sleep does not come easily. . . On this day, I woke at nearly sunset. Climbing down from my perch, I noticed immediately that, indeed, the plight of the citizens grows worse with each passing day. The streets are now crammed with the injured, ill, and dispossessed. Farmers from around the countryside, having come within these once proud walls for refuge, now stare with a fixed unseeing gaze. No doubt they are witnessing in their mind's eye the pillaging of their meager homesteads by the undead hordes. As the sun slowly sinks into a cloud of smokey haze along the mountainous horizon to the west, the citizenry becomes even more apprehensive. As the light fades, warriors buckle their armor to their bruised and battered limbs. The magi, their faces and bodies gaunt from what must seem endless mystical exertion, begin to gather their reagents and resolve in preparation for the trying night ahead. As the last beams of sunlight fade, the city is enveloped in a dark gloom. And soon, the shrill laugh of the undead waft in upon the wind from outside the walls. . . I was taking my turn at the ration table in the Keg and Anchor when the assault began this eve. Leaving my meager uneaten portion behind, I leapt upon my steed, Sacrifice, and galloped for the front gate. Upon arriving at the main gates, things seemed to be well in hand. Drawing my beloved sword, I slew several skeletal knights in short order. Then, looking at the ramparts over the gates, I was dismayed to see that no defenders were perched there. Instead, several bone knights leered down with pale gazes. Climbing the stairs, I engaged them one by one, finally clearing the ledge. From my perch high above the battle, I could see that farther out in the battlefield before the gates, things were going poorly for the forces of Virtue. Dismounting from the ramparts, I accompanied a large group of reinforcements as we came to the aid of our brethren. . . gradually forcing the evil horde back. In the midst of the battle I heard a clear voice rise above the din: "Hurin, to my side! For I am a healer!" Turning, I saw a valorous warrior, cleaving skeletons asunder with but a single swing. Yet, indeed he did also have the hands of a healer. In the midst of the strife, he would quickly reach out to a comrade, herbs and bandages in hand. Those he touched immediately felt their burden of pain lighten and were able then to carry on the fight more readily and effectively. Fighting my way to his side, I immediately recognized--by both his noble bearing and his distinctive dress--the noble warrior who had but two nights thence faced in single combat the very wellspring of the evil now assailing us. I was overjoyed to see the valiant knight Damien Vryce once again risking all for the future of Trinsic. Our meeting--though we knew each other but little--was joyous amid the clamor of battle. I was honored to know that this most noble of knights had heard tidings of my humble contribution to the battle fought the previous night. And, of course, I was extremely honored to be fighting beside the venerable Damien Vryce once again. "A pleasure t' fight at thy side once more." he said. "Indeed! I had hoped thou wouldst return to this city in its need. Without thy sword, our fortunes would surely be less." Smiling grimly, we turned to the task at hand. Long we fought as we forced the forces of darkness back. Finally, the undead fiends in retreat, a lull in the action allowed Damien Vryce and myself to converse briefly. Other warriors gathered around as we tried to anticipate what was to come. Damien, believing that the forces of evil might come through the southern gate as they had the night before, dispatched me to reconnoiter the city and especially the southern gate. This I did speedily with the help of Sacrifice. Reporting back to Damien, he was pleased to know that the city had been cleansed, for now. . . As warriors paced nervously before the gate and mages sat among the carnage of battle, meditating and gathering their strength, it occurred to me that before us stood a warrior that might be able to unite the defenders of the city into an organized, disciplined army. For it occurred to me that most of our brothers who fell on the field of battle did so because they became surrounded. But, if we could form a line of battle, only two or three of the undead would be able to attack a single warrior at once. Surely a firm line would give us a better chance of denying the undead the gate which was the key to their victory. Approaching Damien, I spoke quickly, "Milord, do ye think it might be possible to organize this rabble of a defense into a line of battle? Healers, archers, and mages behind the front ranks could provide support, enabling us to stand longer." "Aye, Hurin. I was just thinking that if I knew more of these warriors, surely we could organize better. But rarely do warriors in the heat of battle listen to the words of a stranger, no matter how sound the advice. . ." With that, he took on a contemplative manner and appeared to become lost in thought briefly. Then, he nodded once firmly and, looking up, stated, "Very well. We shall attempt it." With that, Damien Vryce strode proudly forward and with a powerful voice intoned: "Defenders of Trinsic! Surely shalt our strength be much more if we all work together! For those who desire it I shall organize a defensive line before the gate. Let the warriors, who shall comprise the front ranks, assemble now between the lamposts. Go now." With that, several noble and brave warriors strode to the fore and took position firmly before the gates. As they assembled, at Damien Vryce's command, mages and archers took up position behind them, ready to lend their assistance. Finally, as the line of battle settled into a firm wall of sword and shield, one of the few surviving paladins of the city, Gabriel, spotted the approach of a scout sent out many hours earlier. The scout, a noble warrior going by the name of Crandall reported that a large force approached from the northwest, coming down the road to the gate. Dismounting and leaving my horse just inside the gates, I took my place in the center of the line just as the vanguard of the enemy force began to appear where the road curved into view. Some brave warriors, for reasons I find unfathomable, declined to take part in the organized defense and charged headlong into the enemy. However, though these warriors fought valiantly, the enemy continued its march toward our line. As the forces of darkness began to loom larger before us, many warriors looked to the comrade beside him, knowing that if only one fled, the result would be disastrous. With nervous but resolute eyes, we watched the enemy approach. As some of the warriors who charged ahead now fell back, I exclaimed: "Those who would join this army, form at the sides and prepare to hold your ground!" Thankfully, many did turn from flight and form on our sides, making it more difficult for the enemy to come around our flanks. Finally, the lead elements of the enemy army hit the center of the line. I fought in my assigned place as did all the warriors near me. "Stand fast!" Damien could be heard to shout as he passed to and fro along the line, reassuring those who looked about to waver and providing bandages and healing to those who were most gravely injured. With the initial momentum of the enemy assault spent, the ghouls, skeletons, and bone knights retreated. Before us lay a huge mass of bones and putrid flesh. Indeed, some warriors could hardly be seen as they stood among piles of bones almost chest high. The liches who usually commanded the legions of the army lay dead before our feet. Many thought they could sense victory in the air for our line had held and not a single warrior who had taken a place in the line had fallen. Cheers and shouts began to erupt. . . yet I looked at Damien Vryce, who only peered ahead through the haze and smoke at the road. . . a grim look upon his noble brow. "Stand fast! Tis not over!" With that, another force came 'round the bend, heading for the gates. They moved with a speed I had never seen before in the rotted flesh and brittle bones of the undead. Quickly, their corpses began to pile before our lines. However, it may be that our lines proved to be too effective for it readily became apparent that those that had not taken a position in our line were having difficulty fleeing. Those who had seen too much combat were not able to easily seek refuge in the city for our line prevented their passage. Seeing this, during a short lull in the action, I stepped forward several paces crying: "Defenders of Trinsic, we must provide a route of retreat for our comrades. Form on me! Form on me!" As one, the line stepped forward and reformed farther from the gate where those who fought further up the road could easily retreat along the outside of our line. Gradually, the clamor of battle grew quiet and again some began to celebrate. As many cheered, Damien Vryce approached me: "Hurin," he said "Forming a line of battle was a fine idea. I must say though Hurin, that we are foolish to hold our line here so far from the gate." "If we had more warriors, we could form a better flank. But alas, I would rather be defeated than cause the death of those who could not flee around our line." "Thy point is well taken." Damien said. Then, as though the enemy knew our conversation had reached its end, the howl of the undead was once again heard as yet another assault came into view. This time, however, they were led by lich lords. The menace of their foul stare sank the hearts of many of the men. "Lich Lords are among them! Stand thy ground! Cry out for healing if thou art in need! But stand thy ground!" I cried. They struck with devastating effect. Two warriors on the left side of the line fell almost immediately as the lich lords immediately realized where we were most vulnerable. The line began to quake and waver until soon only the center held firm. "Milord," I yelled. "I fear we have been flanked! Perhaps it would be better to break ranks and engage the enemy singly". My heart bore not well the sight of our comrades being slaughtered while discipline demanded that we stood almost idle, slaying only the common skeleton or ghoul foolish enough to close on the center of the line. But, due to his wisdom, Damien responded, "Nay! Hold thy ground! For this is but the beginning!" And, even as he spoke, the main body of the enemy force crashed into the center of our line. Again the bones were piled high before us as we strove to maintain our place. Time and again they would essay to break our center, yet the line held. Finally, however, the ferocity of the enemy assault started to take its toll. The right and left flank continued to crumble and now the enemy had penetrated those flanks and were wreaking havoc among the mages and archers to our rear. Then, as I looked to my right and left, I could not see my comrades. "Milord, I fear I am the last! Shall we retreat?" "Nay!" came a voice from my side. "I still stand beside ye!" It was Crandall the scout. So besmirched with blood and grime was he, and almost covered with the bones of the slain undead, that I barely could make out his form as a friend. "I too still stand at thy side!" said Gabriel the paladin. "We have not broken! I stand yet!" exclaimed Drake, a friend of Damien Vryce who demonstrated exceptional courage throughout the battle. "and I as well!" cried a warrior I would later come to know as Lukkis Mclancies. My heart began to rise in hope again as the haze of battle revealed that our line, despite the carnage surrounding us, still held in the center. On we fought. We fought until our arms could barely lift our weapons. But, alas, the flanks having crumbled, the enemy began to flood around the center and into the town. Our support of mages and healers having been swept away by the onslaught, we began to feel that our position had grown overly tenuous and no longer held any strategic value. And, over the din of battle could now be heard the screams of Trinsic's citizens as the undead army began marauding through the streets. "My liege! May we break ranks to pursue the enemy? I fear the town is being decimated in our rear!" "Very well." Damien replied. "Break ranks! Attack at will!" With that a great cheer went up. "For Trinsic" some yelled. "For Honor" hollered others. "For Virtue" I bellowed as I ran for the gate, burying my sword deep in the back of a lich as I crossed the threshold of the city. A running battle now ensued throughout the city that lasted several minutes. Having mounted my steed again, I engaged liches whenever possible as my silver sword proved especially effective in bringing down these dangerous magic-wielders. Finally, we succeeded in defeating the last of those who had invaded the city. Coming again to the gate, we found that the enemy army had retreated. "We have driven them back!" I exclaimed as I saw Damien Vryce. Busy was he, overseeing the care of the wounded and dying at the gate. "Hurin, my time here is up for now. I have an urgent errand that I alone can accomplish." "Nay milord!" I said. "We have need of thee! Thou has led us bravely this eve. If not for thee, I fear the city would have already fallen!" Smiling, Damien said: "Ye give me credit for what is thine sir." At that moment, Gabriel rode to our side upon a lathered horse. "To arms! They are coming in through the smuggler's gate to the south! They are behind us!" "Go Hurin!" Damien shouted. "Ye must lead these people! Remember to be firm in thy commands to those who would follow thee. If thou demonstrate thy strength and resolve, others will follow thy voice! Go now!" "We shall hold, milord!" I exclaimed. "Fear not! Trinsic shall not fall. Should Juo'nar finally come before us this eve, I shall make thee proud!" At once feeling the magnitude of the responsibility thrust upon me, I decided that not all of us should go to the southern gate. Hoping that others would follow my command, I shouted that only those on horseback should ride now to the southern gate leaving those on foot to guard the main gate in case of another attack by that quarter. With that we galloped off to battle in the south of town. Upon our arrival the realization immediately took hold that we were fighting two separate armies. For these were not undead that assaulted us in the south, but lizardmen and ratmen. We plunged into the already heated battle and turned the tide for the forces of Virtue. Coming around the flank of the enemy, I entered their rear. It was then that, through the haze of battle, I gazed upon a woman. . . standing erect and unafraid amidst the enemy. At first I thought her a hostage and I came beside her in order to offer my assistance. It was then that she turned toward me. The malice of her stare possessed a power I had never yet encountered. Then, to my horror she uttered those most dreaded of all words of power: "Kal Vas Flam". Almost immediately an inferno erupted around me. The pain was unbearable as my skin began to blister and my lungs filled with flame. With my last stone-weight of strength, I kicked my faithful steed Sacrifice and clung to the noble beast meekly as it sped me from danger. Two mages, witnessing my plight immediately came to my aid as I rode to safety. One tended to my wounds as another held the enemy at bay. I fear that I did not think to ask these noble mages for their names, though I clearly owe them my life. They informed me that they had fought this army before and that its leader was an enchantress named Malabelle. I now knew the name of the enemy to the South. Having been restored to a reasonable semblance of health, I resolved to seek out the foul wench leading the force now bearing down on us. Sacrifice, remarkably uninjured despite the searing flames that almost put an end to my life, carried me once again past the enemy horde's flank and into the enemy rear. Again I saw the woman and, again, she immediately fixed me with her gaze. "Malabelle! Thou'rt behind this!?!" I screamed. Cackling madly, she prepared yet another spell with which she hoped to snuff out my life. As she did so, I drew my sword and attempted to pierce what appeared to me to be unprotected skin and flesh. Yet my sword glanced from her body as though she were made of stone. Indeed, she barely winced in pain as I essayed with all my might to put an end to her. Finally, her spell (an energy bolt) hit home. I was staggered by the blow yet still tried in vain to do her some damage. Again, she smote me and my resolve broke. Yet, looking behind me, I saw that the enemy force now closed in upon me from all sides. I had nowhere to run but further into the enemy rear. I would like to take credit for what happened next. But, in all honesty, Sacrifice my steed must take the credit. Negotiating the narrow southern bridge, we passed by scores of the enemy until we finally came to a clearing to the south of town. There I rested for a brief spell, then resolved to rejoin my comrades though the ride through the enemy lines would most certainly mean my death. Through some miracle, I passed through the enemy lines almost unscathed once more. I witnessed the retreat of Malabelle as our forces began to gain the upper hand. Then, horror struck me as I realized that many who fought beside me were not on horseback, but on foot. Indeed, many I recognized from the battle of the main gate. Seeing that this battle was well in hand, I turned and sped through the streets towards the main gate, fearing what I might find there. Well before the main gates, between the provision shop and the baker, I learned that what I feared had come to pass. Lich lords had led an enemy force through the weakened defenses of the main gate. Seeing them marauding through the streets, slaying the innocent and pillaging their belongings, the full crushing weight of my failure almost threatened to unseat me from my horse. Yet, I realized what I must now do. Drawing my sword for what I fully expected to be the last time, I charged into the vanguard of the enemy host. Slaying one lich lord, I turned to another that stood beside him. Then, as I buried my sword deep in his chest for what I am sure was a fatal blow, I felt a searing heat overwhelm me. . . and nothing more. . . When I awoke, I found myself in the houses of healing in the center of town. Having been revived, I gathered my tunic and kilt and went out into the streets. The battle was over. I was overjoyed to see that some soul--obviously more steadfast and wise than I--had taken the leadership of our forces upon him-or-herself. Or, perhaps each individual warrior, fighting by his own command, had brought about this miraculous victory. However it came to pass, the Virtues had truly smiled upon us as the forces of evil now appeared to be in full retreat. I made my way to the place where I fell and, again to the credit of the city's honor, my sword still lay upon the pavement among my armor. Kneeling to retrieve my precious sword, with tears in my eyes, I pledged there among the slain defenders of Trinsic that I would never again fail so utterly to defend a city so filled with honor, decency, and Virtue.