Improvisation is a key to all elements of life, a belief Storm Veritas clung firmly to and relied upon. This was fortunate, because the best laid plans for attacking Radasanth had gone completely sideways, leaving him angered but undeterred. So proud had he been to show Shinsou the ”Welcome Wagon”, loaded with gunpowder, high grade alcohol and other cheap explosives, that he hadn’t accounted for its failure to reach the front gates.

Could have ended the whole damned thing before the fighting started.

Yes, the ordinance vehicle he had lovingly crafted could have opened the tempered steel gates of Radasanth like a can of tin, however the wagon had never reached the gates. Instead, it was stopped by some damned fool scout that the Brotherhood soldiers identified from a distance unhitching the oxen from the front of the carriage, leaving it stranded some hundred yards from the front door, like a lovely gift box left by the curb.

None would remember the magnificent arrow shot that took down this scout where he stood, because for its accuracy and lethality, the arrow came a minute late. The oxen stupidly (brilliantly?) wandered away from the wall, mooing out their hunger before settling on brush. The Brotherhood forces had advanced regardless, the siege weapons settling now four hundred yards from the impossibly square cut stone wall that cast deep shadows from its eighteen feet of growth. Behind it, the large city, rich with thatch roofs, pitch-topped flat structures and water-beaten wood structures beckoned for hellfire.

“Of fucking course someone had to unhook the wagon. Because why can anything ever be easy?” Storm spoke to Shinsou on his left and Seamus on his right, the three trading petulant barbs and jokes. Anything to cut the tension before what would certainly be a grisly scene.

“Range is ready, Cap’. The cannons are well within range, as are the archers behind them. I can move up the giants at any point, but they can’t reach from the back yet. Footmen are ready to race.” Seamus stared straight at the wall ahead, envisioning the inevitable fall.

Looking left, Storm had seen the mix of feeling upon Shinsou’s face. Shin had engaged in terrible things before, however tended towards pragmatism. This was a shared feeling, although the wizard oft felt that the more heroic Telgradian underestimated the value of raw force.

“Hayate? The people? Any way to backdoor the innocent, and give us people to rule when this is over?” Shinsou reasoned in his questions, but did not plead.

Storm listened, but his resolve was set. He pulled a small steel ball from his satchel as Vaan Osiris conversed with him, the older magician wrapping the orb in cloth and using a thumb-length of wire to fasten the cloth securely.
“To every fire, there are hordes of people running in two directions. Those that run to it, and those that run from it. We’ll have to kill the brave ones, but the chickenshits will be mostly spared. Sort of makes life a little easier if we don’t have the bold, Radasanth-loyalists pushing back after we save the city. Hell, even the brave might knock their knees enough once they see the giants.”

Without another word, Storm snapped his fingers, arcing a small flame between his fingers that caught immediately to the dried cloth about the metal ball, which now floated gently over his hand. He stared at Shinsou, the stoic warrior reluctantly nodding. In a flash, the ball was fired from the hand of Veritas at the distant wagon. Sound seemed to vanish off the face of Althanas for a moment as the ball gently bounced around the wagon, small flames gently flickering out for just a moment. The moment lingered, thousands watching with baited breath until an enormous explosion rocked the landscape, a thunderous boom that left carbonized wood debris and ash billowing out of all sides from the once-was wagon. When the smoke cleared, the ground was a near perfect circle of black char, stained only by a residual splay of red where the scout once lay.

The gate stood, resolute and defiant some hundred yards from the massive explosion, met with only some small cedar scented ash floating about it. It was not for fifteen seconds before cannon-fire began crashing into the walls and rooftops by the hundreds, a sky of fire and arrows raining hell on the front door of Radasanth.

Behind the front line, a very uneasy group of horsemen waited, the steeds giving nervous brays and pecking at the earth below with their shod hooves. They had advanced slightly behind the torrent of explosions which slowly moved upon Radasanth, watching stone crumble and fires start before them, smoke beginning to accumulate in thin whiskers above the city, slightly obscuring the red star which continued to grow in the north sky.

“I’d say we wait for counterfire; we’re at a good range to keep them pinned down for now, flood the city with fire to flush soldiers and cut them down on their open charge.”

Turning his long face to Vaan Osiris once more, the wizard spoke directly in low tones.

“She’s in there, right? Do you think she fights us here, or can Hayate get her out safely? Two horn blasts from Seamus and he’ll know to extract her. Three, and…

“Three and Hayate hears that she’s beyond saving.”