The last two were counted off silently, everyone firing at “one.” Bullets clipped the sharpshooters, the carbines falling to clatter at their feet. The two mages just as soon snapped their heads to the rifles’ report as bullets found their mark. A flicker came from one of the dying mages and Howl saw a shimmer dissipate over the Dreadmage. Within a moment of the others he fired his rifle. The Dreadmage inclined his head as his comrades were shot all around him. His eyes widened and he flinched at an unnatural speed.  His body jerked and he clasped his face. The dragon off in the distance twisted as if struck. A shriek came from both the dragon and the mage, as the mage crumpled to the ground and the dragon thrashed in its death throes.

“By the Huntress, we got him!” a ranger whispered, her voice nearly cracking with excitement.

But the dragon did not disappear as Howl anticipated. It writhed, clawing and snarling. A tempest of energy whirled around it, surrounding it in a blanket of flickering green and black. The body of the Dreadmage jerked and twitched, his arms thrashing on the ground like a child with a tantrum. Magic glowed around him, the body hovered in the air and a small string of magic shot off towards the dragon.

“What’s going on?”

Howl gaped. He had underestimated the mage. Again. The mage was linking himself with the dragon in a last ditch effort, it would mean the end of his own physical body but he would manifest into the dragon. “Shoot the bugger before he’s done!” The rangers hurried to reload.

“Too late!” a ranger shouted.

The body dropped and a roar came from the direction of the fort. Blazing eyes glared at the rangers, teeth gnashing as it snarled. Its long tail flicked, thrashing at the earthworks and the defenders, and it lumbered into a charge towards them. Howl noticed a contingent of soldiers forming at the redoubt below them, likely trying to rush their exposed position.

Well, at least the attention is off of the fort for the time being. 

Keg’s voice squawked in his ear. “Did you get the mage? The dragon is still here!”

Howl touched his earring to respond. “We did but there seems to be some complications.”

“What?”

“No time. Give some covering fire, please.” Howl snapped

“On the dragon or on the devils?”

“Yes."

A few moments later shells and magic projectiles streaked from the fort, battering at the dragon and the surrounding area. Howl turned to his rangers. “Let’s make like the wind."

He ran as fast as his legs could move. The ramparts were just in sight as the dragon hurled itself into the rangers, bowling them over. Howl felt his breath fly out of his lungs as he rolled on the ground, his rifle flung from his hands.

The dragon recovered, all of its feet back on the ground and moving. A ranger shrieked in terror as the dragon’s maw snatched and crunched him in half. Razor-sharp claws swiped at other rangers that had yet to push themselves up from the tumble.

Howl groaned and rolled onto his arms, pushing himself up. His lungs were on fire, he could not muster breath to yell for his rangers to fight or even run. He coughed and patted at empty grass next to him, realizing his rifle lay just a few feet away from him. A few feet too far.

He felt the rush of air behind him and he flung himself away as talons dug into the spot he had just occupied. Still breathing ragged, he scrambled back and darted for his rifle, a free hand frantically digging into his cartridge pouch.

“Get to the line, we’ll cover you!” shouted Keg.

Keg and the war mages blasted shots at the dragon. The bursts of magic and shrapnel knocked at the dragon, a few of the hits burning up a part of the creature’s wing. The leather started to shrivel, the wing looking more skeletal, and the creature toppled down onto the ground with a thud. It stirred and thrashed on the ground, one wing furiously flapped to attempt to gain air again, but in vain. Jaws snapped at any approaching attackers, claws and talons slashing wildly. War mages continued to try to break through its tough hide. 

Howl reached into his shot pouch for some of the enchanted bullets. His thumb brushed on the etchings made on the ball, marking it as an explosive round. He rested the rifle on the edge of the trench and gently placed his finger on the trigger, slowing his breath. His eyes concentrated on the dragon’s maw, its head centered within the sights. 

The dragon thrashed its arms, slashing at more of his men. His heart pounded like a dull drum. 

“Now or never!” yelled Keg.

The rifle cracked fire and smoke, kicking into Howl’s shoulder as he squeezed the trigger.

At the last moment, the dragon moved. It shrieked and jerked as a small fiery cloud erupted from the side of its head. The smoke cleared, showing a pit of gore and cracked bone where one of its eyes used to be. The dragon snarled and turned towards Howl.

His heart dropped into his stomach. Sweat slicked the palms of his trembling hands. He fumbled to his pouch for another round. 

The ground quaked all around him as the dragon charged towards the trench. Muskets fired, the rounds popping in vain. It reared its head back with a roar, breath sucking inward. Howl shut his eyes and ducked down. Flames licked overhead but Howl felt no pain. 

He opened his eyes to see Keg and a few other war mages standing over in the trench, holding out their arms. Magic crackled in the air as the flames deflected away with a barrier.

“Reload, dammit, sir,” Keg groaned, straining with her magic.

Howl rammed the bullet down and poured powder. “I only need a few seconds.” 

“You’re only going to have a few seconds,” Keg said with gritted teeth.

A long arm of fire erupted from the rifle barrel, thrusting through the dragon’s own cone of flame. The round exploded as it impacted the dragon’s maw. Flames dissipated, the dragon roared and contorted in pain. It slumped to the ground, one last gasp, and, for a moment, all was still. Howl’s heart thumped loudly, his rifle still pressed on his shoulder as he stared. 

Then its nostrils flared as it roared. Howl flinched back. Its one good eye glared straight at him and it lashed out wildly, slashing both devilkin and human in its frenzy.

The dragon staggered as more shots peppered at its ragged body. One of its forearms was in tatters and most of its head was nothing but shards of bone and undead flesh. With one of its remaining claws, it swiped at the defenders. 

Keg shouted in his direction. “Take the grenade!” She pointed at a blessed grenade that lay just within reach of him.

“I haven’t a light!"

“Use your damn head, sir!”

The dragon roared once again, clawing away at more soldiers. Shots pecked away at its flesh but it continued to stand. It reared its head back, sucking back air. Howl sprinted toward its maw, his hand gripping the grenade tight. As it started to lower its head down, Howl said a prayer to the Huntress and hurled the grenade. It arced into the dragon’s mouth just as flames began to spew. 

The air cracked with a high-pitched explosion and a blinding light. Explosive force threw Howl back and he tumbled to the ground. Streams of demons darted away from the sprawling brightness.

The dragon stood, headless. One of its arms flailed at nothing. A gun from behind in the redoubt fired and the round slammed into the body. The corpse landed hard, a cloud of dust puffing out from the heavy mass, and lay smoking from the embers of the holy fire, leaving behind a charred skeleton. 

A grateful cheer broke out in the redoubt. Howl let out a heavy sigh of relief as he still lay on the ground. He felt the urge to just close his eyes and sleep. A strong hand pulled him up.

“Not bad, sir,” said Keg, dusting him off.

Howl made a weary smile. “Couldn’t do it without you though.”

Cord came stumbling over. His uniform was a mess, he had a bandage over his head, a dark red spot bleeding through. “Sir, the left wing is breaking! We just don’t have the men anymore! They’re coming through the lines.”

Howl looked past him, seeing a small stream of Caldraynians stumbling back, many of them hurt and wounded. “Where’s Ironhand?”

A forlorn look broke through Cord’s usual stern face. “He went down fighting with his men, as any of us would all want.”

“Who’s in charge?”

“You are, sir. Shall we send more to the lines?”

Howl gritted his teeth, trying to fight the urge to shout and grieve. He had no more good reserves at the moment that he could spare. Sending them out would just create a thin, fragile line. If that collapsed, it was all in. “Keg, I hate to say this, but we need to fall back.”

Keg’s face paled. “Yes, sir.”

--------

The garrison made a hasty retreat to the inner bastion walls of the fort. It had a sloping wall to help defend against cannon shot and bastions, but much of the inner structure was still almost medieval. Soldiers braced the main gate with timber and carts and whatever they could find. Howl ordered anyone that could still load and fire to man the walls. Others could help load muskets for the designated shooters to keep the pace of fire. Howl joined his sharpshooters in taking out enemy gun crews and officers. 

A devilman stood in front of Howl on the wall, his sharp teeth bared and pale eyes wide with fury. Howl slashed with his sword but the devilman parried with his bayonet and lunged as a counterattack. It just barely missed Howl’s stomach as he twisted out of the way, the edge of the bayonet just cutting at the cloth of his coat.

Howl grimaced and snatched at the barrel, pulling it towards him, causing the devilkin to stumble. With the other hand, he plunged the sword into the devilman’s gut, and yanked it out with a twist of his hips. The devilman toppled and Howl set to work to fend off more attackers. He saw Keg brawling, large arms shoving and throwing devilkin off of the walls like a whirlwind of death. Her uniform was cut, showing blood beneath, but her face showed an uncaring ferocity, fully immersed in her bloodlust. In a way, it scared Howl just watching, no matter how many times he had seen it before over the years.

We need time for a reprieve. Even just a few minutes. Howl let out ragged breaths. All he wanted was to lie next to a babbling brook, letting the songbirds serenade him to sleep.

Instead, he was here with the din of death and battle among the throes of a world-ending war. He pulled away from the wall and rushed over to the dwarven artillery major, Yedin. “Do we have any artillery here other than the main guns?”

Yedin tilted his head. “Some howitzers, though no rounds left. We do have one of those damn finaggly rockets though. It’s not quite out of testing.”

“A rocket?” A light sparked within. “Fetch it. And Harthen.”

“Right away, sir.” Yedin sped away as fast as his stocky legs let him. They gathered the rocket and its stand, the cleric following Yedin. 

Howl took out his canteen, staring at it for a moment and then taking a swig. “Harthen, you studied enchantment and transmutation, correct?”

Harthen scratched his head. “Well, yes, I did. Not too bad with it, though maybe not exactly wizardly.”

“That’s fine. I need something more priestly at the moment.” Howl pointed at the rocket. “I need you to bless it. I’m going to drop the blasted sun on them for a few moments at least. They don’t like holy light very much, most of them. It should buy us some time.”

“Oh.” Harthen’s eyes widened in realization. “I can do that. Can you buy me a few minutes? This might take up quite a bit of my magic though.” He took out a small flask and a leather pouch of spell materials. The gun carriage was wheeled out with the blessed rocket.

“This is the only one, sir,” said Yedin.

“I realize that,” said Howl.

Howl snipped the fuse and then grabbed the lit linstock, gingerly holding it to the fuse. As soon as he saw the fizzing sparks he hopped up and backed away several good paces. The fuse hissed and the rocket screamed into the sky like banshee, causing a few soldiers to stop and turn their necks at the noise.

At the zenith of its arc, the rocket burst leading to a sudden brightness in the sky. Howl covered his eyes for a moment as his eyes adjusted. It seemed like daylight now. 

The devilkins shrieked almost as loud as the rocket. Those atop the walls wailed, covering their eyes. A few of the wicked demons sizzled from the holy light in the air. The attackers scrambled back in a retreat to the darkness of the forest, their boots a cacophonic thunder.

A thunderous cheer came from the fort. 

Keg clapped Howl on the back. It stung. “Still see you have enough elvish tricks.”

Howl winced. “I’m hoping I’m not all tapped out.”

“How long will this last?”

“A few minutes perhaps.” Howl shrugged. “Enough to give us a bit to catch our breath.” But not long enough for reinforcements from Lock to show up.

Keg rubbed at her eyes. “I could go for a bit of ale and a piss, by Grakh. It’s been all night. It should be dawn soon.”

A minute later a blast of magic energy zipped to the flare. A small wave of light burst from the flare, followed by a puff and fizzle as the light burned away. The white light turned to a dull gray once more and the remains dropped down back to the ground. Howl tasted the copper in the air as magic started to filter through the sky. Thick shadowy darkness that slowly crawled all over the sky, blanketing the remaining stars. 

Howl’s heart sank. “Shit.”

A horn blared a deep crescendo and the war drums started to beat again. The world seemed to rumble as the thunderous march outside the fort started anew. 

“The Scourge will come upon us,” a soldier muttered. “The darkness will take us all.”

“I’m low on ammo. I thought we were going to have reinforcements?” a private asked aloud.

A general groan of dismay started to murmur among the defenders. Even Howl felt his shoulders sag. He rubbed at his eyes. “By the goddess…” Resting by the water only seemed to be a dream now.

“Howl, what’s your order?” Keg looked at him. There was a sort of soft look to her even with the tusks from her mouth and the scars across her face. Howl would almost think she was nervous. The same grenadier who stared down entire legions without flinching.

Howl looked at the darkening sky and the marching enemy looming towards them. I have failed.  The black sky would blanket the world, the Undead Lord along with it. Dammit Lock, where are you? Did we really have a chance? “We’ve lost,” he lowered his head. “It’s too late.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t think I would ever hear that from you.

He shook his head and spread his hands. “What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?”

Keg said nothing for a moment. The marching was getting louder. She bit her lip and put a hand on his shoulder. “Remember the Battle of Tentakh?"