As Lord Hardwyck gazed on the massive fleet that steadily approached the walls of Swiftkeep, a shiver ran down his spine and through his worn pelt. He had seen half a hundred winters- and never before had the Lord of the Swift seen so many ships in one cluster. There were hundreds upon hundreds of them- the majority of them were cogs, so far as his eyes told him- but he spotted several water-gliders, small, canoe-like vessels that zipped through the water like a hungry fruit-fly. And along with were two massive Nightfish-a triple decked warship that were the prize of Dameon's war machine.
Every single last of them hailed from the Isle of the Scourge- a dark, foreboding island from which dozens of cruel and wicked warlords had been bred. Dameon the Demon was the must recent outcome.
No matter. Hardwyck thought, attempting to reassure himself. Only twice before has the Swiftkeep fallen- and both times the enemy outnumbered the defenders a dozen to 1. The Scourge cannot muster more than twenty thousand rats- and we have eight thousand seasoned men guarding the fortress. Swiftkeep will not fall to some Scourge rat who calls himself a king.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by a soldier, padding up to his position on the wall. "My Lord, the defenses are in place-we are ready from any assault. Dameon's forces have landed and are making their way towards our positions-they will be upon us within minutes."
"Tell the men to hold their fire until I give the command. We must maximize their losses as much as we can."
The soldier saluted and quickly scampered off, barking commands to archers and pikemen.
Hardwyck was old- his grey pelt, which had been smooth and proud in his youth, was now rough and coarse. He was not a handsome mouse- several scars from various wars and battles covered his snout like boils- but he still had his pride and his courage. Now, he used both when he addressed his men, putting all his emotion and passion into his words.
"Defenders of Swiftkeep! Today, we fight for not only for the fate of your home- we fight to defend the kingdom. Swiftkeep has not yielded for a century- and we will not surrender it today!
"The Demon that approaches is nothing but a pretender- the only Demon we yield to is Death!" Hardwyck bellows, raising a gloved paw.
"Remember the words of this fortress! We are the protectors, the guardians, and the heros of the grey mice! We will die to defend our wives, our pups, our towns, our ports- WE WILL DIE FOR OUR LAND! WE WILL PROTECT IT WITH SWORD AND...
"FIRE!" He roars, and the archers loose their bows. The rats scrambling up the rocks leading the walls of the Keep are showered with arrows, and shrieks of pain and agony follow from below.
"RELOAD....FIRE!" As the defenders pepper the enemy with their arrows, several ladders are being brought forwards by the attackers, who use wooden shields to defend the ones carrying them. From behind advances a far more disciplined group of rat soldiers- these ones had the good senses to put their shields up before attacking.
However, the mice now light the tips of the arrows with flame, and fire them at the shields. The flame spreads quickly, eating hungrily through the wood and setting several pelts on fire. In spite of this, the ladders have reached the wall and are being pushed up against the walls. Several rats begin to climb, and a few on the ground loose arrows at the defenders.
At Hardwuck's signal, several vats of boiling oil are pushed to the front. When the rats are close enough, the oil is poured all over them. The climbers shriek in agony as the foul stench of burning fur and flesh wafts into the air. Still writhing about madly, the rats fall to the jagged rocks below, crushing their necks. The ladders are then pushed away by pikemen, to prevent any more climbing up as the vats are refilled.
Things are going nicely... Hardwyck noted, with much relief. However, the rats brought forth several strange contraptions- a cylindrical-shaped piece of metal- and at the front of them were the heads of reptiles. Their expressions were fierce, almost ugly.
The Lord of the Swiftkeep had no idea why Daemon would bring such a strange thing to a siege- but all was quickly revealed. The weapons was fired with a tremendous clap of thunder, and a rolling ball of flame hurtled towards the western section of the wall. It harmlessly bounced off the stone- or so he thought as the fire spread throughout the wall.
Fire that travels upon stone?! Impossible... The weapons were fired again and again, and soon the walls and many of the defenders were ablaze. Shrieks of pure despair and agony filled the air as the defenders who were still alive ran for their lives. One mouse had broken both of his legs jumping from the wall-but still he crawled away, squeaking for his mother as the blood slowly dripped from his flanks.
"What madness is this...this King of the Scourge...is he truly a Demon?" uttered Hardwyck in a mixture of awe and terror. The scene of flame and death reflected in his black, beady eyes. For the first time in a long while, Hardwyck began to laugh. He laughed as he danced around madly through the flames. He laughed as the fire spread from his paws, to his legs, to his pelt and torso- and then to his head. He laughed and danced as the deathly heat coated his entire body, driven insane by what could not be.
The Lord of the Swiftkeep laughed until the very end.
That was a preview/trailer for my first storygame, I was hoping to get some constructive criticism and feedback. It revolves around a world where animals such as mice, rats, beavers, etc. can talk and are the dominant races.
Hope you enjoyed and I eagerly await feedback.
