CHAPTER 295 Fear and Fatigue
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CHAPTER 295 Fear and Fatigue
297 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
Aermir's army encircled Strongsong, their presence looming ominously outside the castle's defensive walls. They were just outside of Strongsong's defensive measures. He didnt want to attack them right away this was the third day of his siege. He was letting them stew with the fear of what is the come. As he observed inside the castle with his familiars he knew everything that was happening. As he realized the fear was lessening he decided it was time to start.
...
Throughout the night, small units of Aermir's forces launched fake charges at the city, keeping the defenders on high alert and depriving them of much-needed rest. The constant threat of attack forced the beleaguered defenders to remain vigilant, their fatigue mounting with each passing day.
As the fourth dawn of the siege approached, the defenders of Strongsong found themselves exhausted and depleted. Since the majority of them were fresh recruits or levies, the relentless onslaught of feigned assaults sapped their energy. This tactic exhausted them, especially mentally. For the first time in their lives, they were threatened with constant fear of death for days without end.
The 500 veterans among the soldiers were not that much effected since they were able to sleep even with this threat but the recruits didn't have that grit and were like jumpy rabbits, skittish and sleep was dripping from their eyes.
...
As the light of dawn painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, Aermir's mountain army launched their first real assault on Strongsong. The defenders, exhausted from nights of constant feints and false charges, struggled to muster their forces as the enemy descended upon them.
Ulf, chieftain of the Moon Brothers, led a daring charge towards the castle gate, his warriors wielding a massive battering ram to break through the sturdy wooden barrier. A barrage of arrows and rocks rained down on them. The Moon Brothers pressed forward as they hammered away at the gate, inch by inch.
Meanwhile, Torik, Chief of the Burned Men, scaled the walls with grappling hooks and ladders. Despite facing fierce resistance from the defenders atop the ramparts, the Burned Men fought tooth and nail as they climbed, and the defenders continued to push the ladders away and cut the ropes.
At the same time, Dolf, chief of the Stone Crows, led a thousand men to attack from another location, forcing the limited number of defenders to divide into smaller groups. In the midst of the chaos, Tormund the Bull son of the chief of the Howlers and Aermir, charged headlong towards another one of the castle's gates. As they rammed the gate, it shook from its hinges since the 50 soldiers holding the giant ram were soldiers buffed by Aermir.
With each swing, they battered against the sturdy gates, and a thunderous sound could be heard from the gate as they were battering it with a ram. Aermir raised his big axes and started to hack at the gate, chipping at it little by little between every ram. Since he couldn't use his magic, he was using the Transformatio (transmorfation) spell that exchanged his magic with unnatural speed and strength. His heightened strength had brought him close in power to a bear.
After a few hours of assault, the gate could not stand this torture anymore and gave out. As the walls and gates of Strongsong were breached by the relentless assault of Aermir's mountain army, the defenders found themselves overwhelmed by their attackers' sheer ferocity.
Especially those with better enchanted weapons who fought along the chiefs and the 200 warriors buffed by Aermir, fought like demons. Their buffs and enchanted armors made them almost invunurable to the weapons of those inexperienced fighters.
Ulf wielding his great axe with deadly efficiency. With each swing, he cleaved through the ranks of defenders, his sheer strength and brutality inspiring fear in all who faced him. Most of the defenders were villagers, artisans, and smallfolks of the castle. They were experiencing such brutality for the first time in their life, and with every fallen ally, their courage diminished.
Tormund and Aermir steadily marched into the castle and approached the keep. As they started to push the defenders into the keep, a knight clad in full plate armor emerged from the castle with tens of knights behind him. Ser Gareth Belmore, a seasoned knight of House Belmore renowned for his skill with the blade, charged toward Tormund.
With each clash, sparks flew as Tormund's mighty swings met Ser Gareth's deft parries. After a perfect parry, Gareth landed a powerful blow onto Tormund's shoulder, causing him to wince in pain, but Tormund's enchanted armor and the buffs he received proved to be formidable advantages, absorbing the brunt of Ser Gareth's strikes and allowing the mountain man to press the attack like feroucious bear.
Aermir watched from afar as he dispatched knights and soldiers alike in one strike from his axes. Aermir's superhuman strength was taking them by surprise. Even if they defended with their shields they were crushed beneath his axes or flew back like straw dolls. He observed the duel as if he was having a beautiful stroll in the gardens. None of the enemy soldiers posed a real threat to him.
As the duel raged on, Tormund's enchanted endurance began to wear down his opponent, his powerful blows gradually wearing away at Ser Gareth's defenses. Tormund felt invincible with Druid's magic. He landed another powerful strike at the experienced knight and sent Gareth flying a few meters. Tormund's war hammer had turned Ser Gareth's shield into a useless mess, and his armor was bent in some places limiting his movement.
Gareth had a hard time breathing since the last blow he took hurt like hell every time he breathed. Tormund released a bestial roar and charged. He unleashed a mighty swing of his war hammer, the force of the blow sending Ser Gareth staggering backward again and destroying his defending arm in the process. Tormund released a triumphant roar again as he shoulder-slammed Ser Gareth to the ground. He waved his war hammer in a circular movement and slammed into Gareth, crushing his chest like a metal bucket.
...
Torik cleaned out the walls with his clan as Dolf blasted in from the other gate. Torik's axe and shield were a formidable combination as he deftly parried incoming strikes while delivering punishing blows of his own. As they started coming down the courtyard stairs, he found them beside Dolf. They started a race to see who would kill more men. With each clash of steel, he and his men pushed forward, driving the enemy back with relentless assault.
As the battle raged on, the defenders of Strongsong fought valiantly against the overwhelming tide of attackers. Their leaders tried to bolster their spirits with the knowledge that their homes and loved ones depended on their courage and resilience. But against the relentless onslaught of Aermir's mountain army, their defenses began to melt away, their ranks thinning with each passing moment.
They had managed to suppress defenders everywhere except the castle's keep. As they pushed what was left of the defenders into the keep, the mountain man army entered the castle. In the heart of the chaos, Aermir fought alongside his warriors, pushing into the keep, and they managed to break down its great gate after working on it for hours.
Defenders were already at the edge of routing after the death of Ser Gareth, but Aermir knew he couldn't accept surrender. He didn't have enough manpower to defend a castle, mount an offense, and keep hundreds of soldiers prisoner. This was going to be a slaughter. Every able-bodied man was going to be killed. He was going to break the will of the Vale people.
After the battle, there wasn't anyone left to send to the wall. It was a nightmarish scene. Elderly people and women were crying while hugging their children. Aermir didn't feel proud of what he did, but this had to be done. They needed to show that mountain clans were ruthless to their enemies, but more importantly, he didn't have enough men.
...
It had been thousands of years since the Andal invasion, but the mountain clans managed to resist that long under this oppression. Allowing this dagger to stay under their throat for thousands of years was Vale's biggest mistake. They should have paid the blood price and ended the mountain clans long ago.
Now their throat was getting slit by this dagger. Aermir stood at one of the highest spires in Strongsong and looked towards the northern horizon. He thought one was down and two more to go. Aermir was sure he could conquer Newkeep until the Vale army learned of their mistake and marched this way but he was not sure about The Coldwater castle. To conquer that one, he might have to fight as the Druid in that battle.