Siege State

Conversation in the room immediately sputtered out.

The merchant moved to the front of the room, and her wisp faded into visibility in front of them.

Wisps were intimate for Idealists, generally only ever seen by other Idealists one trusted enough to form a party with. An Idealist could make their wisp visible to anyone, though. The merchant clearly didn’t enjoy it, but it was the only reasonable way to get the messages sent by Lord General Steel directly to the team leaders.

The merchant spoke aloud the message she sent in reply to him, “Lord General Steel, I have the team leaders here. We’re ready.” Her wisp, a lustrous golden colour, pulsed and after a minute or so, began to scrawl with black text.

Thank you for the swift response. The orcs have begun proper assaults on the wall.

Val spoke. “What is the situation exactly, General?” The merchant relayed the question through her wisp.

The assault is concentrated on the north east quarter of the wall. We are holding for now. The explosions a few nights have put the orcs in disarray, but the Watch have reported two siege orcs behind the front lines. They were being readied in the buildings in Ren’s Delve instead of inside the mine. We believe they will attack with them as soon as they have moved their ‘equipment’ closer to the city, and cowed the rest of their army back into order.

A worm of fear wriggled in Tom’s stomach. Two siege orcs was a lot better than the dozen or so that they had in the mines, but it might still be enough to overwhelm the Guards manning the wall. One of the giant boulders or huge spears that the regular orcs had fashioned for them to use could do serious damage to the enchantments, not to mention any Guards they hit with them.

The team leads broke into hurried conversations, quickly reigned in by Val.

“What do you need us to do?”

My Guards are stretched thin. They’ve distributed siege ladders to orc assault groups all the way around the wall. We imagine they’ll try to hit us all at once, overwhelm us. I’m not confident we can take out the siege orcs, not while also carrying out repelling actions all around the rest of the wall. I’m not sure more time will help.

The explosions proved how easily the orcs’ organisation can be threatened. I would stake my life on this Smith and his chieftains being the only things holding the army together. We need to kill them. Does your enchanter have anything he could make that could help?

There was an awkward pause. “Scriber was nearly captured carrying out the sabotage on the mines, General. The second explosion the other night, the one we were all wondering about? That was him. He’s gone.”

Now the wisp paused, floating still in the air for some minutes, before finally the text resumed.

Goddess, but we can’t catch a break. At least we got most of these siege orcs. My condolences to you all.

“Thank you, General. It was a big blow to the war efforts. He will be missed. We are all eager to avenge him.”

“Val,” Tom broke in. “Scriber mentioned he had been working on something to help us with the orcs. He had realised the same thing: that without their leaders, they are little better than beasts. He said it was here, in his workshop.”

Cub nodded, the big man looming forward from where he had been sitting quietly against one wall. “I helped forge the device for him. It won’t help with the leaders, not directly, anyway, I think. His idea was a paralytic ray. It will allow us to attack the Smith and his chiefs without spending ourselves wading through thousands of orcs.”

Faces around the room became thoughtful, taking in the information. The merchant was relaying their conversation through her wisp to General Steel. The General had tried to use Watchmen volunteers to assassinate the Smith already, but the sheer amount of orcs surrounding him at any given time made infiltrating close enough impractical. Any assassins would be discovered, and have to fight their way through too many of the rank and file to make an attempt feasible. But if the orcs were spread out assaulting the wall, and they were hit from behind…

Goddess bless that man, the Lord General sent. His device sounds like just what we need: an opening. If you can pressure the Smith, keep him occupied, the Watch should be able to handle the siege orcs while the Guard maintain the wall.

“Can you give us any help with the Smith, General? He is bound to be surrounded by his most powerful Idealists. There are less than one hundred of us. Even with Scriber’s device, we might not be enough.”

I’m sorry, no. I wish I could. The civil war still rages. There is open fighting in the streets, constantly, now. Civilians are getting dragged into it. More and more of the Watch are getting involved too. I have barely enough left to keep an eye on what’s happening beyond the walls.

Ladies and gentlemen, I won’t lie to you. The situation is dire. If we don’t break the siege now, we will lose it. The siege orcs, their Idealists, the sheer amount of troops they have, will all be too much. We will not get a better chance, and we cannot wait any longer anyway. Now is the time to throw everything we have at them. No more raids, no more infiltration, or sabotage. We bring battle to them, kill the chiefs, or we lose the city.

The team leaders read the message, and digested it with stony-faced silence. Val gazed around at each of them.

“Leave it to us, Lord General. We’ll get it done. Watch for us. We are coming.”

The wisp pulsed in acknowledgement, and went silent. The team leaders immediately began discussing logistics, tactics, strategy, for the upcoming battle.

All in. One last attempt to decide the fate of the city. This was it.

Tom sat with Rosa, listening to the discussion, but could not contribute. He had no experience with such large scale battles, and could offer no advice or ideas. After a while, he instead sought out Cub.

“Cub,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

The bigger man shrugged, his face wrapped in pain. “Thank you, Tom. But let us not wallow in it. He wouldn’t have wanted us to. Come on, let’s go check out this device."

Tom and Rosa followed him from the meeting room, walking around the wall of the cave to his and Scriber’s workshop. Guerillas sat in groups all around, talking, watching Tom with curious stares.

Cub pushed open the door to the workshop and ushered them inside. Tom and Rosa entered, looking around as the enchanted lights flickered on.

The workshop had changed again since they had last been at the cave, expanding in size once more. The benches all down one side of the room were Scribers, with a small forge, anvil, grindstone, quenching barrels, benches and racks on Cub’s side of the room.

Cub walked straight over to one bench in particular, and laid a hand on an enchanted device there.

It was a sphere of metal, rusty pink, made from the bloodsteel Scriber and Cub had created, scrawled all over with tiny, intricate runes. Cub ran an absent thumb over its surface.

“He had been working on it for weeks,” he said, sadly. He gave a brief smile at some memory or another. “Just needs to be charged with mana and pointed in the right direction. Does require a fair bit of charging, though, and it’ll only be one use.”

“One use should hopefully be all we need. It’s lucky we even have this much.”

Cub nodded, clearly blinking away tears. Tom placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, standing quietly with him.

“I can’t believe he’s gone. He knew this was coming. He knew this might happen, and he still went. He even prepared for it…”

Tom went to say something, to offer some condolence to him, but Cub suddenly drew in a sharp gasp of breath. His eyes went wide, and he straightened. Tom felt the muscles in his shoulders flex and tense under his hand.

“Cub?” he said, worried. “What’s wrong?”

Cub’s eyes were roving back and forth. He was reading something on his wisp. Tom waited patiently. The man must have uplifted a skill, though he wasn’t sure how processing grief could relate to any skill under Forge or Hammer, Cub’s two Ideals.

Cub slowly turned to Tom and Rosa. His eyes were wide, wondrous.

“I manifested Enchanting,” he said, as if he didn’t quite believe himself.

Tom rocked back on his feet. Rosa let out a low whistle.

“Congratulations,” Tom offered. “That’s incredible!”

“Scriber, he would have been proud, I think,” Rosa added. “You will use it well.”

Cub’s face did somersaults, wavering between tears and jubilation. Eventually he wrestled it under control.

“I should go tell the team leaders. They’ll want to know,” he said. He wandered out of the workshop, heading back to the meeting room. Tom gave Rosa a significant look.

“What,” she said flatly.

“You can’t have me on for my luck anymore,” he told her. “Enchanting… good Goddess.”

Rosa just snorted softly and rolled her eyes, not deigning to reply. Tom’s attention drifted to Scriber’s workbenches. He had mentioned leaving something for Tom here.

Tom idly drifted along the benches until he found several rings laid out neatly in a row. One had his name inscribed into it. Rosa and Val and Cub each had one too, among a few others named for other Hunters. He called Rosa over, handing hers to her, then picked up his own.

Cub returned then, sliding back into the room. The big man seemed a little dazed. It was no wonder, manifesting an Ideal left most people a bit giddy. There was not a single person anywhere in the world that would not be ecstatic to manifest Enchanting. Tom beckoned to him, gesturing at the ring with his name on it. Tom began to inspect his own.

It was a storage ring, and the space inside was massive. It only had a few items in it, but even the ring itself was far more precious than most items that most Idealists owned. Tom pulled one of the items out to look at them.

It was a set of armour, exquisitely crafted. Unlike the leather and mail Tom was used to wearing, this was close to being full plate armour. There was a breastplate, with a recurved neck guard built in. Pauldrons, angular, set in three layers to assist movement. Vambraces and gauntlets, greaves and cuisses, were all present. A set of metal strips made tasses to round out the set. There was a thin, soft leather jerkin and trousers to wear underneath, and a hooded cloak to wear over top.

The plate was all wrought in black soulsteel, with the enchantments picked out in bloodsteel. The interior side of the plate was all soft leather, stitched with enchantments too.

It was gorgeous. It would offer him a massive degree more protection during fights. As he handled each piece, he noted the superlative craftsmanship, and the tiny weight. It would not restrict his mobility in the least.

Tom idly wondered what other enchantments were dispersed throughout the set. He glanced at Rosa, and found her inspecting a set of her own armour.

Like his own, it was metallic, made of plate as opposed to leather and mail, but it was thinner, lighter, and provided less coverage. The pauldrons were not as bulky, and it had no gauntlets or cuisses. Unlike his, her cloak was much thicker, and at a glance, much more heavily enchanted. He could also see that her soft leather under armour was different too.

He turned to Cub, and found the man in front of a huge pile of books. He was absently flipping through a small journal. He noticed Tom’s regard.

“He knew,” he said, smiling. “Somehow, he knew. These are all the notes he made over the years. Every single thing he knew about enchanting. Every single skill, every single curiosity he discovered about all of the Ideals he ever encountered. It’s incredible.”

Tom could only agree. The information contained in the books could make Cub wealthy enough to found his own fortress city. Enchanters the world over would beggar themselves for a day’s unrestricted access to them without a second thought.

“Mind telling us about all this, Mr. Enchanter?” Tom asked, gesturing to their armour. “I assume you had a hand in forging it?”

“Of course,” Cub said with a grin. “Best work I’ve ever done, I reckon.

“It’s all soulsteel, with bloodsteel for the runes. Just like your weapons. Yours is heavier, as you can see, Tom, and layered over with durability and self-repair runes. Should be light as a feather too. We were aiming for maximum protection. The breastplate has an enchantment that tracks your health, and if you get too low, it’ll throw up a shield. Recharges from ambient mana, but it’ll take a couple days to do it.

Rosa, yours is lighter obviously, to allow you to make use of your Speed. The leather underlay is all focused on streamlining mana flows and assisting in mana regeneration, and the plate is focused on amplifying damage.

“You’ll be able to move faster and hit harder, and stick it out longer if you get cornered,” he said to Rosa.

“And you will be able to stand in the thick of things for longer without getting so fucked up,” he said to Tom.

“I love it,” Rosa purred. “Thank you.” Tom echoed the sentiment.

Cub accepted the thanks awkwardly. “Scriber put in half the work. He really liked the both of you. Use them well, and I’m sure he will be proud.”

They shared a minute’s silence then, remembering their odd enchanter friend who had done so much for them. Cub eventually broke it.

“There’s more. Check your rings.”

Tom and Rosa both pulled out the next items. Tom looked at the weird collection of straps with confusion, but Rosa immediately got excited.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Cub said. “There’s still more. Grab out the next things too.”

They both dipped into their rings again, and both pulled out some more soulsteel plates. This time, they were accompanied by lots of soulsteel mail, all connected oddly by more straps. Rosa’s looked longer and narrower, whereas Tom’s set was wider and rounder. Tom couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but Rosa seemed like she was going to burst.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling a bit stupid. Cub just grinned at him. Rosa smacked him around the head excitedly.

“Saddle and tack!” she practically screamed. “And barding. Enchantedbarding!”

Tom was still confused. He knew barding was armour for a horse, which was obviously useful for Rosa, with her horse familiar, but…

Realisation hit him.

Oh, he thought. Oh. Sesame is gonna love this.

Just then they were interrupted by a commotion in the main cave. They quickly stored their new gear and made for the door.

Val had been giving a speech, it seemed. They had missed it, going over their new gear like excited children. To be fair, Tom didn’t know a single Idealist that wouldn’t get excited about new, custom-made, enchanted gear. Besides, it was obvious what the speech had been about.

Just under one hundred people stood listening to Val, the team leaders arrayed behind her. Many had been exiled to this life, shunned, forced into the Deep at the whims of fate. Many had been captured, tortured by orcs, simply by virtue of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Every one of them had one thing in common.

They were Hunters.

Every single person was burning with fury. Every single person had been thrust into this life or death struggle against monsters out of legend. They had seen friends die. They had suffered.

But no more. As the Lord General said: no more raids, no more sabotage, no more subterfuge. It was time to put it all on the line.

The battle for Wayrest had begun.