Ozzy led his twenty workers forward at a run, crashing into the disorganized line of Krax. The Krax were taller by at least a foot and had a couple of hundred pounds on the Contract Workers, but were only in the second tier. The workers were stronger and moving faster. They hit the Krax hard, chopping down on the warriors knocked over by the tossed logs, slamming into shields to push them back, stumbling, and chopping down on exposed limbs. They didn't rely on blocking or dodging, trusting in their Armored Aprons and levels in Mitigation to cut the sting from any wounds. Adzes, lumber axes, and Gopher Hammers drew lizard blood and broke lizard bones. Ozzy was in the center, swinging his Hogsplitter back and forth in great sweeping arcs that lopped off heads and made the lesser saurians scramble away from the giant human with the glowing red weapon.
He had Jon and Cham on either side, guarding his flanks. Each of the Wood Princes was in the fourth Tier, and their enhanced Ironwood Barkskin could shrug off most blows, although they were wary of the large obsidian axes. Roots sprang from the ground, tripping opponents, and the lumber axes they held in each hand struck hard. They were fond of drinking all night, and the Butchering parties in Gadobhra were something they hated to miss. Like the other workers, the strange skills gained at the Butcher's Guildhall seemed ideally suited for combat. The only worry they had was Ozzy. They had no doubt at all that getting hit by a huge, flaming blade would hurt like hell, and the Butcher was swinging it around like a madman, sometimes one-handed, sometimes two, making huge sweeping attacks and always moving.
"Jon, I think someone got an upgrade. He actually looks like he knows how to use that thing."
"Yes, and have you noticed how many times we've had to deliver wood to the corral for repairs? I think we need to stop by some night."
"And bring beer."
"Of course, it's impolite not to show up without a couple of kegs."
Pushed back, the Krax were stumbling over the smaller warriors moving up behind them, the tangled ranks keeping the spear wielders and dart throwers from doing their jobs. Before the much larger formation could wrap around the Contract Workers from either side, the lizards were hit by the rest of the ad hoc force. Mercenary units and adventurers hired for the expedition were streaming in from the teleporter, slowly balancing the odds against the much larger saurian force. Varcel led her Vixens into battle, not so much a unit as a mob, tossing spells and heals, slitting throats and creating mayhem on the right flank. Varcel swept back and forth with her battle ax, unafraid to engage with the Krax, ignoring any wound dealt to her as she screamed in their faces, kicked, headbutted, and threw insults at the lizards. They weren't sure what she was saying, but somehow the meaning got through.
The Baron and Baroness led a small unit that engaged with the lizardmen next to the Vixens. They weren't as powerful as the Tier Four adventurers, but they were far more powerful than the lizardmen who followed (or were pushed) after the Krax into battle. They also benefited from their unique bloodline, a choice of the best magic items found in their dungeons, and the lessons learned slaughtering Ghouls. Blood flowed and turned into a mist that flowed around them, healing any wounds. Their weapons glowed a dull red and began pulsing in rhythm, beating in time with their hearts and the steady blows from their weapons. As the bloody mist grew and thickened, Billy cast a spell, and it formed into the image of a blood-red Krax that began hewing down saurians. More blood flew, and every minute another bloody phantasm appeared and joined the battle.
On the far flank, the two-hundred veteran mercenaries hit the lizardman formation with a vengeance. They had fought them in the jungles for months, dying daily to poison darts from unseen assassins and cunning ambushes. They happily vented some of their pent-up frustrations on these lizardmen, whose attention was mostly on the Butcher's Brigade.
The outer columns of the lizarmen were turning to face their attackers, further tangling the formation.
Flanked on both sides, the front of the mob was melting away, but thousands of them remained, and over five hundred of them in the rear ranks armed with poisoned projectiles fired at Ozzy with blowguns, javelins, and shortbows, every single projectile coated with deadly poisons from the jungle. Even presented with such a large target, a third of them missed. Most of the missed shots did nothing, but a few found targets in the formation of new recruits following close behind Ozzy. Men swayed and then took a knee, while some died. Ozzy saw the shots coming and ignored them. They'd either hurt him or they wouldn't, but the four Krax directly in front of him would certainly put their axes into him if he lost focus. Arrows and darts stuck in the leather of his apron. Javelins bounced off his bare arms. One of the four Krax warriors stiffened and fell over as friendly fire took its toll
To the priest's horror, only four of the arrows had pierced the giant, hitting him in the throat and cheeks. Still, they had hopes for the poison and the Dreaded Curse of Sothteck. Ozzy saw that he was taking damage from poison, but it was trivial. Less trivial was the giant ethereal snake that materialized and wrapped him in its coils. The entire contingent of lizardmen cheered at the manifestation of the Ancient Spirit. They knew what came next; the giant would turn purple as Sothteck's manifestation squeezed it to a pulp and the poison coursed in its veins. Even the Krax in the front rank cheered when they could have been hitting Ozzy. They knew the battle was won, and it would be rude to doubt the spirit and possibly become its victims themselves. No mortal being could fight back against the ethereal manifestation of the god. It would squeeze tighter and tighter as the victim vainly tried to grasp its coils.
The lizardman army froze in place as Ozzy yelled, grabbed the snake with both hands, and then flexed his muscles, pushing back on the curse. The priests strained as the feedback hit them. And then, to their horror, the ethereal serpent's grip was broken by the giant, and his hands tore it asunder. Three of the underpriests screamed as Sothteck vented his rage on them, crushing them to bloody pulps as the curse rebounded onto them. In that moment, as the lizardmen recoiled at the sight, Ozzy stepped forward and breathed fire in a huge cone, fanning the flames from one side of the formation to the other. Then he yelled, "Two steps forward, and start driving them back." A warrior with aspirations to become the new Clawleader began shouting orders, only to have a smoky chain wrapped around his neck. He flew through the air until he met a steel-hard fist that pulped his head.
The battle was fast becoming a glorious mess. Ozzy was driving forward in the center, his feet stomping on burned and bloody foes, and the small flanking forces were killing from the sides. But they were taking casualties. Five workers had gone down fighting, unable to shrug off the repeated wounds from the huge obsidian axes. Small healing spells had kept others up, their wounds disappearing as they appeared. The recruit unit filtered in to fill the gaps, but they were barely able to hold their own against the smaller lizardmen. They went down by the dozens to poisoned wounds. The saurian force was regaining the momentum, their larger numbers outflanking the flanking forces as they went wider and wider, and Ozzy drove into the center.
Into this mess came two mighty warriors. The first was a juggernaut of whirling blades and bad attitude. Caedis had seen the Baron depart by teleporter and become worried. How could he guard the Baron if the Baron wasn't here? Worse, soldiers were leaving as well. A battle was coming... He hated to miss a chance to rend and tear little flesh sacks, and no one had ordered him not to come along. Not that he listened to anyone except the Baron, and maybe his personal mechanic. No one had stopped him when he stepped onto the teleporter. Mainly because the heavily armed and obviously dangerous murder machine intimidated anyone nearby, except for his mechanic, who waved and said, "Have fun! And make sure to use the new Eviserator Attachment."
As soon as Caedis arrived at the other end, he heard the sound of battle and rushed to Billy's side. Billy saw him coming, grinned, and pointed at the enemy. "Kill the lizards and keep killing." That was all that Caedis needed to hear. His whirling sawblades and taloned feet began killing lizardmen faster even than Ozzy, and he had no fear of their blows. Only running out of energy could truly hurt him. He even remembered to transform his left arm into a multi-bladed Eviserator that his mechanic needed to test.
Behind the mighty golem came Unca Varn, standing upright on his palaquin and screaming as he reached the battle, staying carefully in the rear. He yelled out each time he attacked. "SMITE!" A bolt of lightning hit a Krax, stunning it, and Ozzy took off its head. "SMITE! SMITE! SMITE!" Multiple strikes hit the center of a group of blowgun-armed lizards, exploding them into bloody, smoking parts. Vern kept going, dealing out divine retribution as fast as he could and yelling out orders that no one obeyed. The huge store of energy in his palanquin giving him vast reserves of mana. His ranting rolled out across the field to where the under priests were trying to regain control of the battle. One looked up and mournfully said. "Unca-Varn..."
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Another, busy with trying to cast a Blessing of Fury, didn't bother to look up. "Yes, yes. We do this in the name of the nearly-great former God-Emperor Unca-Varn. Minor praise to his name and this glorious task."
"NO! IT IS UNCA-VARN. He has joined the battle and is ranting gloriously. It can be no other."
"You see a vision? Then we are truly blessed."
The first underpriest grabbed the second, half throttled him, and pointed his eyes at the frightening sight of Unca-Varn ranting loudly and calling down skyfire. It would have been better appreciated if it had been coming down against their enemies and not their own side. "Aieee! What is the meaning of this?"
The first priest would have answered, but he had noticed the ground was shaking. Moving to them at tremendous speed was their Thunderbeast, coming to join the battle. The creature must have gone berserk, or was in heat, or wounded. Nothing could get them moving that fast and with such fury. "The beast approaches! It will trample our enemies!"
"NO! You fool, that is blasphemy! It cannot trample the sacred being that is Lesser-God-Emperor-Unca-Varn. What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that this day is lost, and we should retreat with our army and come back to fight another day."
"That is wise. I do not wish to be trampled or smited, and the large human is not slowing down. It has killed all the Krax and is coming this way."
From behind them, a soft voice said in another language. "I don't think you boys will be getting away." Each had his throat slit by a silvery dagger, laced with a poison far stronger than anything in their jungle home. Within six seconds, Suzette stabbed all six of the remaining underpriests, leaving them writhing on the ground and dying. When the guards turned and attacked her, she faded away, laughing at them.
Atop the charging Thunderbeast, Ben tried to hold on to a horn as he accelerated the creature. Rolly was doing the same. Marcy was driving, which worried both of them to no end, but she'd bonded immediately with Tulip after they freed the huge beast from captivity. Rolly had seen this before and explained it to Ben. "Sometimes, you see a giant lizard, and know right from the start you're going to be great friends. It's simply fate. Happened to me and Typhon back in the Siege of Orleans."
"Typhon was a damned dragon, Rolly, not a lizard."
"Same principle. And hell, he could be a ten-story-tall giant with a hundred heads, and I'd still love him. It's what's inside, Ben."
"You are so weird, sometimes."
<You have no idea.>
As they had caught up with the slowly turning Thunderbeast, Rolly and Sqirmy had dropped from the sky with terrifying screams of 'Haloooo' and begun to slaughter the unarmored archers riding on the back of the massive war turtle. The poisoned arrows meant less to them than they had Ozzy. The snicker-snack of armblades and wingtalons was added to a bloodthirsty scream as a horde of black birds descended and materialized into a furious Marceline. "Leave some for me!" The priest riding at the front had turned to cast a spell at her, only to take a dagger in the throat. Marcy kicked the driver hard enough that he flew off the beast entirely, then slashed through the last of the crew that Rolly and Squirmy politely left to her. After a moment, the creature they were riding stopped moving and roared its displeasure. It shook its head and roared again.
Rolly jumped down to her nose so she could see him. "It's alright. I'm here now. Is something hurting you? What's wrong?"
Marcy looked at the harness that encircled the creature's head. "The bastards have a razor bit in her mouth. The trolls in the Ash Desert use them to control their battlebeasts. They cut into the tender parts of the mount's mouth. The reins are hanging loose and putting pressure on her mouth, and it's hurting her. Poor thing." She got to work dismantling the leather harness and, with Rolly's help, got the bit out of her mouth. Rolly and Ben healed the old wounds in her mouth and some bruises from running over the wall. She looked at Rolly, then Marcy, and took a bite of grass and bushes, chewing happily.
Rolly got her attention. "Hey, I don't mean to interrupt feeding time. I can see they've been keeping you on a pretty severe diet. But I've got an idea. We've got some tasty hay on the wagons back at camp, and the only thing between you and a big meal is the people who turned you into a beast of burden. Feel like some revenge?"
The huge creature roared her enthusiasm, both for food and revenge, then vainly tried to find either. Rolly saw the problem. "Near-sighted, are we? How about we hook a couple of straps to your two side-horns, and we can guide you to the food? Does that work for you?" It did, and after they got the beast pointed in the right direction, Marcy grabbed the new set of reins and stood on the beast's nose. "I'm driving. Rolly, does she have a name?"
Rolly spoke for a moment to her, "She says she was anointed 'Delicate baby that tiptoes through Tulips' by her mother, but her family called her Tulip until she was captured and penned up."
Marcy waved to Tulip, then pointed at the battle in the distance. "Glad to meet you, Tulip, let's go kick some ass."
With both Shepherd and Courier magic speeding her up, Tulip was coming at a fast run, eating up the distance and shaking the earth. Ozzy saw her coming and saw who was riding her. He wasn't quite sure where the beast was going to hit and started yelling. "THUNE! BILLY! Pull back to the wall." It took little to get the troops retreating and out of the battle. The lizardmen cheered as their cowardly foes retreated, and then cheered again as they saw their mighty Thunderbeast moving to attack. They were still cheering as Tulip trampled through their army and began turning in a circle, stomping anything that moved. That was the last straw. With no priests to guide them and no one stepping up as the new Clawleader, morale broke, and lizardmen began running away. Tulip was too winded to pursue, but Vern and Caedis took up the chase. Billy let them go. The automaton would stop when it ran out of juice, and the poor adventurers packing Vern only made it a hundred yards before his smiting ceased to work, and they stopped.
Vern had smited and smited, killing the fleeing troops until he was out of juice. Half the lizardmen kept fleeing, but the other half fell to their knees and began prostrating themselves to him. "Spare us, great God-Emperor, mightiest of challengers. We see the error of our ways and once again wish to serve."
Vern glared at them, "About time someone came to their senses. Fine, you're rehired. Form ranks twenty wide and make it snappy. Ricardo, take me to the rear of my army." It took an hour to get the six hundred survivors sorted out and marching back to the village, and luckily, Ricardo ran ahead to make sure no one attacked them. The lizardmen were wounded and miserable, praying they wouldn't be sacrificed. They cheered up when the three High Priests of Unca-Varn came to them and began the sacred rites of loyalty and atonement. Nearby, Tulip munched on half the fodder that had been brought with the excursion, Marcy staying with her and occasionally tossing apples into her mouth. The priests had taken one look at Marcy, seen the mark of the death goddess upon her, and decided against including Tulip in their ritual.
Ozzy sat down next to Billy and Layla and handed him a beer, and her a bottle of wine. "Not a bad little spur-of-the-moment battle, was it?"
Billy looked around. It was just he, Layla, and the Butcher, with everyone else keeping their distance. "Fun, but it scared the shit out of me. I've never done anything like this before. Killing ghouls is one thing, but this was crazy. I never imagined war was so damned noisy and unorganized. Closest that I've come to this is the annual ACME Christmas party."
Layla was exhausted, with bags under her eyes and looking like she hadn't eaten in a month. "I'd rather fight another war than endure another of those, although this was insanely tiring. My spells took a toll, and I was casting them constantly to keep up the damage bonuses on the army. I thought I was going to puke in the middle of battle."
Ozzy nodded, "Yeah, big stuff is messy. But on the bright side, you got to show up in the nick of time, get cheered by the troops, and be on the winning side. And I'm sure that Emperor Gus will be appreciative of your effort."
Billy grinned with fire in his eyes. "If he doesn't, I'll remind him."