Ashes of the Fallen

Opening my menu and altering the territory designators, I changed it to declare the current army as trespassers. They would be alerted instantly, to stand down. Of course, they did no such thing, and continued with their forward march.

That was a declaration of war, as far as the system was concerned.

They were now officially hostile forces, launching a surprise attack.

"Fire in two waves, twice, then free fire after that," I yelled out to the men.

Setting my halberd and shield down against the wall, I drew my bow and eyed the markers on the field. There were a few rocks of importance and a short palisade that indicated distance. Two-hundred yards marked our effective firing range, as they started to enter within it.

It wouldn't be long now.

Shifting the weight of the draw from my shoulder and arm to my back through the contraction of my back muscles, I held the drawstring back as far as I could. Holding for a second, I lifted my left arm and tilted the bow upwards a rough forty-five degrees.

Steadily inhaling, my chest started to expand and then as the expansion brushed my hand aside, the bowstring slipped cleanly off my fingers.

Thirty-two other bows did the same.

Thwacks and twangs filled the air as strings reverberated rather noisily, and with practiced precision, we all drew our bows again as we watched the arrows sail through the air. One, two, three seconds passed as the arrows continued their flight, then finally, impact. A glorious impact, with the unsuspecting mob of players hit squarely by the first volley as two or three players fell to the floor from a critical hit.

Instantly, the group broke ranks and began to sprint forward without any cohesion.

A second volley followed, with only one man falling victim.

As I began to draw and fire in rapid succession, caring little for accuracy as I repeatedly attempted to slow the oncoming advance, I watched as my warriors and Selene did the same. Firing an arrow a second, thirty-three arrows flew out at random intervals that cut through the air as the enemy players continued to advance.

The shield-bearers at the front easily blocked and defended those directly behind as they held the frontline and continued to charge.

"Target the rear!" I shouted as I lifted my bow slightly, arcing the trajectory of my arrow in order to hit their casters.

Ten seconds had gone by as the first hundred yards were cleared, and only a hundred remained. The peak physical fitness offered by the game gave the players the ability to run at world record levels.

Sweat started to roll down my cheek as I anxiously continued to fire, quickly draining my quiver of forty arrows.

My fingers itched as the string stripped and burned the skin with such rapid firing but I couldn't pay it any heed.

Fifty yards remained, as another two men fell.

Dropping my bow to the ground with less than five seconds remaining before they would reach the walls, I brought my arms into my chest as I started to chant.

The twenty-five yard mark was hit, with a woman collapsing to the ground struggling to breathe as an arrow pierced her throat.

Fifteen yards left, as the shield-bearers funneled together in an attempt to break through the open gateless entryway.

Five yards away, I stared them down.

"CHAIN LIGHTNING!"

Yelling at the top of my lungs as a rallying cry and a threat all in one, my booming voice carried across the field. Heads and eyes turned up to the flash of lightning as it surged forward and caught the shield-bearers unaware.

Arcing, bouncing, jumping and flickering as it coursed through their bodies and into the dirt below, the first man hit died instantly as the other four fell to the floor. Arrows filled the void where their exposed backs had been a blink before.

Unable to scream or cry, they died quick, silent deaths.

Slinging my shield onto my back while dropping my quiver onto the floor for the man next to me, I leaped off the ramparts with my halberd in tow. Filling the gap of the entrance with my body and halberd at the ready, four other warriors dropped down with axes held high. Two seconds, as I pulled my weapon back and above my head.

Then the wave hit.

Axes were swung in quick succession as shields were raised to deflect. The heavy swings of the warriors broke through the weak wooden shields, with loud snaps and cracks filling the air. Splinters of wood flung in every which direction only to be ignored by the flash of swords swung in retaliation.

Screams filled the air as limbs were mangled and a hand fell to my feet.

My heavy swing had cleaved straight through a shield and on through the arm of the defender as he buckled from the blow, staggered and falling backwards as he grasped his missing hand. A quick thrust and the spear-point entered the soft flesh of the man as I twisted and pulled, watching him tumble to the ground in a state of shock.