Chapter 45

"I don't see an option but straight through." Misha sighs. "This is going to suck."

"We will wait until the first volleys of Arrows land, and then we will charge. Mythryll, drop Razor Grass well into their ranks, and your clones should follow your lead. Elmira put a shadow field on top of us. It's getting dark, and Ogre's eyesight isn't good. It might keep them from noticing we're behind the summons."

Plan now prepared, they begin to sneak into a range of the Ogres just before the Elven artillery barrage starts. It's not just the archers; they've got some sort of siege weapon behind the walls, too. One that hurls fiery boulders. They explode when they hit the ground, and Cain discovers the wooden projectiles are filled with flammable liquid, sending fire and splinters everywhere.

The Ogres charge the Elven lines, covering the distance between them in seconds. This is the group's cue to move. The artillery has ended, so they attack the back ranks of the Ogres. Six massive trolls are rampaging through the Ogres back lines, knocking unsuspecting monsters to the ground where Dark Nymphs and Poisoned Wasps swarm them.

It doesn't take long for the Ogres to realize they're being attacked from two directions, turning a section of their back rows to face the second thread. This is both good and bad for them. It lets them square up with the Trolls instead of being clubbed unconscious, but it turns their backs on the Elven archers. Most have stored their bows and pulled swords, but a few lines keep up the ranged attacks.

Char's chain lightning has an incredible effect; there are targets everywhere for it to arc to. Cain set the Elves as battle allies in their party options, so only direct attacks will hit them, letting them use their area effects like Razor Grass, Blizzard and Consecrated Ground freely. It also stops the summons from attacking the Elves, which would end badly for the party.

"Low on mana." Misha and Char call at the same time.

"Mythryll, back them up, retreat a little until your mana recovers. I'll stay here with Elmira until then; I've got enough mana to bring back the summons when they die for now." Cain calls.

The ladies drop back, and the Pixie activates Stealth on herself and Cain with her [Successful Abduction] skill. The Ogres, vision dimmed by the shadow field, aren't even looking their way anymore and focusing entirely on the Trolls, their natural rivals and their biggest perceived threat.

Cain can hear the happy shouts from the Elves in the area, seeing the Ogres distracted by a fist of Trolls that keep regenerating when killed. They can barely see the Dark Nymphs and Wasps through the mass of Ogre flesh, but it's enough to let them know what is happening. They've received reinforcements from their Dark Kin.

They manage to punch through to the Elven lines not long after the casters return with full mana. The barrage of area effects drives the Ogres back, letting the group meet with the Elven army.

"It's good to have you. I'm assuming the army of Dark Fae are yours?" The nearest Elven Officer huffs, taking a chance to catch his breath.

"Yeah, the Wasps too. I'll have the Trolls hold the line while you regroup." Cain tells him.

The Elf blows a horn in three quick notes, and the Elven warriors nearby fall back as the summons charge forward. It has given the Elves enough time to catch their breath and receive some healing. Both Misha and the Elven forces have area heal spells out, slowly bringing the warriors back to maximum capacity. Cain summons back the depleted ranks of the Nymphs as the Trolls are about to die, and they hold the Ogres at bay for the few seconds needed for the Trolls to return to their positions.

The Elves rejoin this side of the battle, chopping Ogres down while the Trolls block as many attacks as possible, keeping their allies from being hit.

The Ogre's leader roars a retreat, sending them all into a run back for the trees, clearly trying to avoid artillery fire on their way out.

"You saved a lot of lives today, adventurers. What do we call your merry little group?" The Elven officer asks.

"You can call us the Darklight Host. We'll register as a proper guild as soon as we find a suitable guild house and a registration office." Mythryll smiles.

"You'll need five members in attendance to create a guild, though. There are more transfers in town; we can help you find someone if you need."

"We're set. Pocket Pixie." Cain says, pointing at Elmira.

"Oh. Didn't see you there. What sort of crap luck do you need to have to get started as a Pixie? They transfer in at random in a level 30 monster-filled wilderness. If the beasts don't get them, the local fairies usually do." The man sighs, shaking his head.

"Well, we saved one, so that's a start. It's getting dark. Is there a good Inn nearby?" Cain tells the bleak-looking officer.

"Preferably one big room with a hot tub," Mythryll adds. "Or a nearby bath would work, I guess."

The guard officer laughs and points to a spot just inside the gates. "There's a traveller's Inn there. It's got showers in the room and Natural Hot Springs downstairs. Tell the humans which is which; they're separate baths."

They'll need the advice too. The signs are written in elvish, giving no further clues as to who goes where. Plus, there are three doors, further reducing their odds.

"Gentlemen, Mixed Bathing, Women." Mythryll reads, pointing at the doors.

"Perfect. Let's go check in and grab some towels. I stink of battle and Troll blood." Elmira declares. "Onward noble steed. To the counter!"

They're all laughing too hard to speak when they reach the front desk, drawing confused looks from the evening clerk.

"A room for five if you've got. And extra towels for the baths?" Cain asks, being the first to regain his composure.