Falling with Folded Wings: A LitRPG Progression Fantasy, page 66
***Voting for the Council of First Landing is now open.***
MORGAN
I saw some of my kinfolk camping near the east wall. If you don’t mind, Morgan, I’m going to go and say hello.” Issa gestured vaguely to the east, and Morgan nodded.
“All right. I’ll catch up with you in a few hours at the tower?”
“That sounds good.” She smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and Morgan got the hint, leaning down to kiss her. Before he could say any more, she’d spun and moved briskly down the road. He sighed, watching her go, and could almost forget there was an invading army outside the walls.
He shook his head and walked quickly toward the artisan hall. He’d gotten caught up with the activity surrounding the arrival of the Urghat horde and hadn’t had a chance to stop by to see Boris about his armor. Now it was well into the evening, but he figured he’d be there still—everyone was awake, moving around with a frenetic energy that gave away the stress caused by the impending clash. The Urghat had continued with their drums and horns for hours but had finally given it a rest about an hour ago. Morgan was glad; anxiety levels were high enough without that going on all night. He didn’t want to count his chickens before they hatched, though. Who knew what the beast-men had planned?
He found Boris busy with another man and waited to the side, leaning against his workbench while he finished scribing some runes on a necklace. The middle-aged bald man took the necklace, handing a small pouch to Boris. “Thanks, mate. She’s gonna love it!”
“Glad to help, Harald,” Boris replied, shaking the little pouch, producing the telltale sound of Energy beads clicking together. The man, Harald apparently, walked away with a smile, and Boris turned to Morgan. “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about your armor. I think you might need it soon, judging by all that racket earlier.”
“Oh, I didn’t forget; I just got busy. I noticed you ditched the council meeting.”
“Bah, they had enough people in there. I don’t think I would’ve gotten a word in. Besides, these projects are important for the war effort.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. It wasn’t like we accomplished a whole lot—everything’s been in motion for days now. Anyway, how’d it go with my armor?”
“Oh man, really well. That metal holds enchantments a lot better than bronze or even steel. There was still some randomness involved, but I managed to get you a total of twenty-one dexterity. On top of that, I enchanted you a helmet with self-repair and resizing capabilities.” He pulled over a large leather bag covered with pyrographed runes. He reached a hand in and started to pull out Morgan’s armor. Morgan was pleased to see the helmet was a dark steel-gray that looked good with the rest of his armor. He knew it was silly to worry about armor matching, but he couldn’t help the thought.
He picked up the helmet, noticing it was lined with something like rabbit fur, and slipped it over his head. It was loose, but he held a finger against it, sending some Energy to bond with the item, and it instantly shrank to fit his head snugly. He liked that the helmet had a built-in visor and nose guard but had big enough holes for him to see clearly through. The sides covered his ears but had venting to allow sounds through. “Perfect, Boris. Tell your friend I send my compliments.”
“I will; now get the rest of this off my workbench. I have a ton of shit to get done.” He chuckled to lighten the blow of his words, and Morgan laughed, hurriedly stowing away his armor in his ring. He waved to Boris, then made his way along the northern road to the wall and the guardhouse near the gate; he wanted to get another look at the Urghat situation. When he approached, he saw that there were hundreds of spear-wielding colonists milling around the earthen stairs leading to the ramparts and sitting near cookfires and tents that were spread out all along the base of the wall.
“Heyo, Morgan,” a familiar voice called, and he saw that it was one of the guards that had greeted him on his return from Tarn’s Crossing.
“Oh, hey. Um, sorry, but I don’t recall—did you give me your name?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Name’s Raul Lopez. Well, what do you think about this invasion? You think they’ll make a run at the walls? None of us can see any siege equipment out there, but I suppose that doesn’t mean there isn’t any.”
“Yeah, I really don’t know. Anything, literally, seems to be possible with Energy, though I don’t think the Urghat are particularly adept at Energy use. I hate to say it, but I think we’ll have to wait and see.” Morgan clapped Raul on the shoulder and then climbed the stairs leading to the ramparts. There were at least a hundred militia with muskets around the stairs and on them, leaning against the railings, talking and joking with each other as they waited for the next shoe to drop. When he reached the top, Morgan looked out over the northern plains, and now that it was fully dark, he could see the Urghat had set up hundreds of large fires. They didn’t seem to have any sort of order to them, though—nothing like the camps of Roman armies he’d seen in movies with orderly rows and fortifications. “I really hope they’re underestimating us,” he muttered.
“Yeah, me, too.” Bronwyn had come up beside him, also looking out over the Urghat army. “My Urghat friends tell me that, before they left to follow me, the talk around the camps was that we were soft, weak, and easy pickings. When I asked them if they had siege towers or weapons like catapults, they didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. I asked them how they’d get through our walls, and they said, ‘ladders and through the gate.’” She sighed heavily, slapping the thick, earthen crenelation with her open palm.
“Well, that makes me feel better. We might have an easier time than even I had hoped.”
“Hah, you know the System and this world—nothing is ever quite as it seems.”
“Too true. Hey, I’m going to go turn in; have you been to my tower yet? Did Tiladia give you a room?”
“Nah, not yet, but I’ll follow you. I’m all packed up.” She slapped the pouch hanging from her belt.
“These dimensional containers are pretty amazing, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, almost don’t know how I functioned back on Earth without one!” They both laughed and started down the steps. Once again, people waved and said hello, and, it seemed to Morgan, Bronwyn was given a lot of deference. He was dimly aware of her career back on Earth in the VR gaming arenas, but he really hadn’t spent a lot of time watching the Leagues. Still, he had heard her name, and it seemed a lot of the militia on duty knew her from her past or from her exploits here on their new world.
When they arrived at his tower, he noticed that Olivia’s roladii had joined his and Issa’s. “Looks like Olivia is already here.” He gestured to her mount, and Bronwyn nodded.
“Those mounts are something else. They seem so friendly; are they hard to acquire?”
“Olivia didn’t tell you about it?”
“Oh, I’m sure she did, but we drank enough to make the whole conversation fuzzy.” She laughed again.
“Ah, gotcha. Well, no, they aren’t hard to come by; in fact, maybe we can get together some resources and make a trade run to Tarn’s Crossing to buy some herd stock. You know—after we deal with the bloodthirsty invaders at our doorstep.”
“Hah, sounds good.” Bronwyn followed him up the steps, and Morgan was about to put his hand on the handle, but he stopped.
“You try to open it. I want to see how Tiladia deals with you since I told her you were coming.” Bronwyn nodded and reached for the handle, tugging at it. It didn’t move, and Bronwyn started to say something, but then a loud click sounded from the door, and she pulled it open. Morgan nodded, and they both went into the foyer. Tiladia’s silvery lights and mist greeted them, and Morgan said, “Hi, Tiladia. I’m glad you were able to tell it was Bronwyn trying to open the door. Is Olivia in here already?”
“Yes, Morgan. Hello, Lady Bronwyn.” Her lights flashed as she bobbed up and down slightly.
“Hi, Tiladia. Morgan’s told me a lot about you. Please just call me Bronwyn.”
“Oh? Morgan has been talking a lot about me? How exciting to be the topic of discussion in a new world!”
“You aren’t from this world?” Bronwyn stepped forward, peering into Tiladia’s misty form.
“No! I don’t even know what world this is! I am from Aradnue—an immense world with towering mountains and abyssal canyons! There, we dragons soar the skies and make roosts in the heights. Or, at least we used to; I’m not sure anymore. I feel like I’ve been away for a very, very long time.” Her lights dimmed in a way that Morgan was starting to recognize as her being introspective.
“Ahem, Tiladia, would you please show Bronwyn to her room?”
“Of course, Morgan. Please follow me, Bronwyn.” Her lights swirled in a semicircle, and she floated toward the stairs.
“Okay. ’Night, Morgan.” Bronwyn reached out and squeezed his shoulder as she walked by, following Tiladia onto the stairway.
“’Night,” he called after her. Morgan waited for them to disappear from sight on the stairs, then he climbed to the second floor and walked into the atrium. “Ykleedra?” He called, not loudly. He heard rustling a moment later, and the juvenile Yovashi peered out between two fern-like plants.
“Yes, Morgan?”
“Are you doing okay? Getting enough to eat? Not too lonely?”
“Oh, yes, Morgan. Between the meat you brought me and the fruit in this garden, I’ll have plenty of food for some time, and Tiladia keeps me company when she’s not busy with you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, she tells me when no one is around, and I go to the library with her to work on those books from my mother’s laboratory.”
“Ah, well, that’s part of the reason I wanted to talk to you. My friend Bronwyn is staying in the tower now, and she hasn’t met you. She’s had a bad experience with Yovashi in the past, so I want to make sure I introduce you two before you run into her. Do you mind staying out of her sight until then?”
“I will, Morgan. Thank you for your consideration.”
“Okay, I’ll make sure to do it soon so you aren’t cooped up too long. I’m going to get some sleep now, so have a good night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Morgan.” Despite her words, Morgan felt like he could hear a distinct note of sadness in her voice. Feelings of guilt started to surge in his mind, but he pushed them down, going to the stairs and climbing to the fifth floor. When he arrived on the landing, he found Tiladia waiting for him.
“Morgan, is there anything else you’d like me to do before you retire?”
“No, but I wanted to ask you to be sure that Bronwyn doesn’t run into Ykleedra before I have a chance to introduce them.”
“I will do so.”
“Thanks, Tiladia. Is Issa here?”
“Yes, she returned shortly before you.” Tiladia flashed and moved up and down slightly. Morgan nodded and walked past her, up the hallway, and into the suite that Issa had claimed for them. He still hadn’t looked at all the bedrooms, but Issa had told him that they were all nice, though some were slightly larger and more elaborately decorated than others. She said some had fireplaces and bigger windows than the bedroom she’d first dragged him into, but he didn’t want to move. Soon enough, he’d unlock the level with the master suite, and until then, the room they were sharing was plenty comfortable.
When he opened the door, he found Issa sitting in her practice clothing in a cultivation pose in front of the window. She didn’t look up, so he decided to join her, sitting a few feet behind her and running through his cultivation drill. He managed two complete cycles by the time she stirred and rose, and then they both agreed to get some sleep. The next day would be a busy one—an election and possibly an assault from the Urghat were on the menu.
BRONWYN
Bronwyn woke up with the System alert about voting in her face. She groaned, swiping it away, and rolled out of her bed. She went into the bathroom and washed her face, used the toilet, and then got dressed in a set of clean clothes, strapping on her spiked armor over them. After pulling on her boots, she went into the hallway and knocked on Olivia’s door. There wasn’t an answer, but a soft tinkling sound heralded the arrival of Morgan’s tower spirit, Tiladia.
“Olivia, Morgan, and Issa are downstairs. Morgan asked me to tell you that they only recently came down, don’t worry, and are waiting for you to head into town for breakfast and to vote,” Tiladia said, as Bronwyn turned to face her amorphous form.
“Alright, thanks.” Bronwyn hustled down the hallway, stepped onto the staircase, and found herself on the first floor in just a few steps. Morgan, Issa, and Olivia stood near the front hall talking when she walked up. “Morning, all.”
“Hey, we were going to go vote and then get some breakfast. Sorry, my kitchens aren’t up and running yet.” Morgan chuckled as though he’d made a good joke.
“C’mon, Bron. Might be our last chance to get breakfast together. I have to use this teleportation token soon, or it’s going to burn a hole in my pocket.” Olivia reached out and jostled her shoulder with a wry grin.
“You’re trying to hide your nervousness with bravado! Think I don’t see that by now? Hah, of course, I’ll have breakfast with you.” Bronwyn reached out and put her arm over Olivia’s slight shoulders, tugging her into a side hug as they walked toward the door. Morgan looked at Issa, and she just grinned, displaying way too many sharp teeth, and they followed her and Olivia outside.
When they got to the Colony Stone, a line had formed leading all the way down the hill toward the tavern, and they decided to get in line before it got even longer. Luckily the voting process was quick and discreet—as many people as could squeeze around the stone to place a hand upon it could vote at once, and there was no way of knowing who they voted for. After about a twenty-minute wait, they all got their chance, and Bronwyn voted for all the current members of the temporary council, including herself and Olivia. When she finished, the interface informed her that 18 percent of the populace had voted and that the poll would close when either 100 percent had voted or at midnight, whichever came first.
When they walked down the hill to the tavern, they found all the tables full and a large crowd milling around outside, waiting to get in. “We need another tavern,” she said grumpily. Issa had the idea of having a picnic breakfast, and they walked a ways out behind the tavern, throwing down a few blankets. They sat and ate surprisingly delicious fare entirely provided by Olivia and Issa. Apparently, the two of them had similar ideas about using their dimensional storage to its fullest. Bronwyn always felt weird about storing fresh food in her pouch, but it really did seem to preserve the freshness. She wondered if the space in there was a complete vacuum or something. In any case, they ate buttery pastries, sausages, and fruit, washing everything down with spicy mulled wine that Issa warmed on an ingenious little camp stove she produced from her pouch.
They were sitting around, enjoying the late spring morning when the alarm rang out. A loud, clanging bell began to ring from the north and was shortly followed by the more distant rumble of drums and the blaring of horns. “They’re fucking attacking!” Bronwyn jumped up and began to run toward the northern wall; Morgan and Issa were close behind.
“I’ll catch up!” Olivia called, but Bronwyn only had eyes and ears for the coming battle. She sprinted all out and was surprised to see Morgan and Issa keeping pace. She briefly wondered what level they were now but refocused on the distant wall and the frenetic movements of the people at the base. She could see that the militia was flooding up the four sets of stairs to the ramparts, so she angled herself toward the least crowded stair in the northwestern corner of the wall. As she drew close, she leaped up to the first landing, pulling herself over the railing, and hurried among the militia up the stairs and onto the ramparts.
She rushed toward the center of the wall while she looked out over the northern plains. The Urghat were charging. They were still half a kilometer out, but they were moving fast. Most of them were tearing over the ground on foot, but she could see a few hundred of those huge lizards in the back. Bronwyn passed several militia members with red flags on spears, and she knew they were the Fire Sergeants that Maria and Tanya had appointed to call shots. As she passed them, she heard them shouting to the hundred or so militia under their command things like “Steady! Check your powder! Cannons, clear your caps!” Mixed among the musketeers were dozens of the blue-skinned Ardeni with a variety of different types of bows. She saw one with a short, bone-colored bow that was glowing a faint red, thrumming with Energy. Another had a huge multi-layered recurve bow. None of them seemed agitated, and Bronwyn was impressed by their nerve. She, herself, was already trembling with adrenaline.
Bronwyn wanted to be above the gate when the Urghat came. She wanted to see firsthand how they would try to break it and be there to help repel them if they did. By the time she made it to the center of the wall, over five hundred musketeers and Ardeni were lined up behind the ramparts, with as many spear-wielding militia members standing behind them. Bronwyn knew that the other half of the spear troops were being held in reserve near the colony’s center in case the Urghat tried to breach from a different direction. As she contemplated the charging Urghat, seeing that they were only a couple of hundred yards out now, she heard the first fire order echo down the line: “Cannons! Fire!” She realized there were ranging flags planted out on the field and silently applauded the militia’s foresight. Huge booms thundered through the air, vibrating the wall, and massive clouds of smoke billowed out and up from the ten cannons.
“Reload! Scattershot!” The Fire Sergeants screamed. Meanwhile, plumes of ripped turf and soil erupted among the ranks of charging Urghat, sending dozens of the burly warriors tumbling through the air. The roar of the cannons and the shock of the impacts sent a ripple through the charging line, and they faltered slightly, but growling shouts echoed over the fields, and the charge resumed. “Steady! Muskets and Blunderbusses! Ready!” Bronwyn watched, fascinated, barely noticing that Morgan and Issa arrived to stand next to her. The Urghat were less than a hundred yards away now. “Muskets and cannons! Fire!” Once again, the cry echoed down the wall, caught up by the different Fire Sergeants, and the muskets and cannons responded, a ripping blasting avalanche of explosions that rolled out from the center of the wall. All the smoke momentarily blinded Bronwyn, but as it drifted away on the breeze, she saw the carnage. “Reload! Cannons! Scattershot! Blunderbusses, ready!” The Urghat line had faltered; dozens, maybe hundreds, of the beast-men were down. Some were writhing around, some were turning to crawl or limp backward, but horns blared, and the lizard riders charged forward, roaring exhortations that Bronwyn couldn’t make out, and the Urghat charge resumed.
