LoR GC VIII - Kråkereir
The captured soldier had been most cooperative, up to the point that the garhim soldier, Bjorn, had cut his throat.
"Kråkereir. The old fortress is a half-day's march from here." Bjorn slipped his still-dripping dagger back into its scabbard. "If they're prepared, the place can be easily defended. Gather your archers and meet me here." He strode off before Sithric could reply.
"I know just the guys." He plucked an arrow from his quiver, noted its warped shaft, and shot it into the corpse's still-twitching head.
Lord Hildgard pressed his back against the fortress' wall, breathing heavily but glad of his armour. Kråkereir was supposed to be deserted. Instead, the walls were now bristling with defenders, appearing out of nowhere at one guards' dying cry. His soldiers were now caught in a deadly crossfire from the walls and the tower, cowering behind their shields as they tried to press forward. At least he'd issued shields, he mused.
A fresh shout caught his gaze - one of his soldiers flew back, a four-foot goose-fledged shaft protruding from his chest.
"Lenfels! Where the hell did they come from?". Scraping from above caused him to leap to the side, just as a cauldron emptied its contents down the curtain wall. "This just got interesting..."
Entry for Lands of Roawia GC VIII - Into Garheim
Unrestricted category Winning Entry!