A Soldier's Life - 449 -

Chapter 449:

There was a smell of smoke on the stairs as I descended quickly. Most of the landings had crates and barrels of supplies for the retreating defense. I stopped on one landing to check on two Sentinels, but they were only sleeping and not wounded. Most of the windows were boarded up, but some air vents were still open, and I could see a thick suspended dust by the light of the glow stones. This dust was being pulled outside through the vents.

When I reached the top of the Repository, the long shafts that descended through all the levels echoed with the sounds of the distant combat below. The air was much warmer here as well. A dwarven Sentinel missing his leg below the knee was hopping on one foot up the stairs. I would have helped, but I thought I could be much more helpful in the fight.

The repository floors were a considerable mess of half-packed crates, tables of weapons and potion racks, and half-assembled barricades. As I approached the lower level, sleeping Sentinels lay sprawled out on tables and on the floor. The metallic scent of blood, body odor, and ozone mixed with the smell of ancient paper. An unfamiliar Sentinel treating a gray-haired elf woman clearly recognized me. “Seeker, you can join Fenlorian there,” he said, pointing at a stair.

I nodded and took the stairs, finding two Sentinels trying to etch wards onto the steps. I leapt over them, using an air shield to land beyond without disturbing their work. The more stairs I descended, the louder the fighting became. Turning a corner, I could hear elvish shouts and an unfamiliar guttural hissing language mixed with the clanging of steel. A flash ahead of me and a wave of heat washed over me as the fighting finally came into view. Defensive magics had quickly extinguished some type of fire spell.

The fighting was two levels below the Repository, on a long landing. Intense combat raged, with Sentinel defensive mages in the back and warriors ready to cycle forward and give the front line a break. I didn’t see Baelira in this group and hoped she was defending in one of the other two stairwells since the east had been collapsed.

Fenlorian’s white blade flashed on the front lines with two other Sentinels flanking him as a line of hulking Nashasari tried to climb the stairs. The Nashasari were thick-limbed and covered in hardened hide that deflected lesser weapons. I guessed they used a resin similar to my legion armor to stiffen the leather.

Fenlorian’s white blade effortlessly sliced through armor, while the runic weapons of the other two Sentinels had difficulty penetrating the Nashasari armor. Everyone had been involved in this for so long that they looked experienced in their dangerous dance. A Nashasari fell on the stairs with Fenlorian’s blade piercing its mouth and coming out the back of its head. As it fell, it created a tripping hazard and blocked the stairs for its companions. That didn’t last long as the body was yanked down the steps to be replaced with a fresh Nashasari. 

The powerful Nashasari wielded thick steel swords in their right hands and blackwood shields banded with iron in the other. Their blows were powerful, but they seemed to overcommit on swings, neglecting to use their shield in defense when attacking. They clearly had not trained much with the shields.

The Sentinel on Fenlorian’s left had his aether shield flash, and his arm was broken in the next swing as his steel bracers buckled. Fenlorian called, “Rotate!” The wounded Sentinel fell back into the care of the healers, but the rotation forced Fenlorian and the other Sentinel back two steps to defend. All this occurred in seconds as I processed the brutal battle.

Only the mages in the back row were preventing the Nashasari warriors from bull rushing. My aether sight couldn’t make much sense of all the weaves in the air, but there was a battle of magic going on. Nashasari mages, which I couldn’t see, prevented a few destructive spells from forming in their ranks and repelled the only spirit above the battle.

A flurry of blue aether missiles dashed from behind the Nashasari warriors but fizzled out as they reached the Sentinels—some type of shield had protected them. The corridor and the stairs were only wide enough for three people. Even being outsized, the Sentinels did a remarkable job holding their ground.

I stayed back, observing the deadly dance to fully understand what was happening before I committed. I only had two blindness pellets left, but I still had some sneezing pellets—a full jar of twenty. I also possessed the yellow mushrooms from the Caliphate demon dungeon. Spores from that mushroom could suffocate a creature by producing mucus in the lungs.

“Do the Nashasari have healers?” I asked a resting Sentinel nearby.

The blond elf looked perplexed at my question, but answered. “There are a few mages who are focused on countering ours. They didn’t heal the soulless yesterday, but a few injured Nashasari returned to fighting.”

“We have more mages than they do,” another said. “But we are stretched much thinner.”

Fenlorian, at that moment, was finally exhausted and forced himself back out of the fight. Two Sentinels replaced him, a large elf sword bearer in front and a spearman supporting behind. The High Sentinel looked terrible as he stepped back to rest. Dry and wet blood caked his skin, and he had trouble sheathing his sun sword. His eyes were unfocused, and I guessed he was drinking a lot of stamina potions. His eyes widened when he saw me.

“Is there trouble on the plateau?” He asked sourly.

I didn’t get a chance to respond as a mage behind me answered him. “Only eleven ghoul bats and one wraith were seen tonight. None have attacked.” He nodded dismally, even though that should have been good news to him. I assumed the mage who answered was the one communicating with the Jalorien.

“I came to fight alongside you down here,” I said, answering his question for my presence. He grunted a thanks and sat while water and food were placed in his hand.

He talked while eating, explaining the situation to me. It was information I already knew, but I appreciated it. “They only need to ascend two more levels to reach the Repository. Then we will be forced to defend triple as passages and stairs. With their still superior numbers, they will be loosed into the lower floors of the Repository. If we gave up the Repository, we could bleed them enough on the upper levels before they reached the plateau, but they would be free to destroy or pillage what they want.”

One of his council advised, “Items can be replaced, but people cannot.”

Fenlorian was talking more to himself than to us. “The guardianship of the Repository is as important as our watch of the undead. I will not be the High Sentinel that lost five thousand years of knowledge.” He looked at me. “Take your turn at the front, Seeker. I didn’t plan to call on you until the Nashasari leader or the lich emperor was within reach,” he said resignedly and closed his eyes. I don’t know what he expected from me; he knew I had already failed in my attempt to kill the lich emperor.

With magebane in one hand and Boris’s blade in the other, I moved down the corridor and waited. As the Sentinel stepped back, I took his place. My ears immediately began to ring with pressure from unseen magics from both sides. I deflected the heavy blade of the Nashasari into the wall. I stabbed the top of his thigh, and when he brought his shield down to protect his lower body, magebane and pierced his throat. I twisted and extracted the blade.

The Nashasari to my right tried to take advantage of the opening, but the Sentinel in the center of our three-person line got his attention by striking his shield. I managed to cut the forearm of one Nashasari in who was pulling the corpse back. It would likely be raised by the lich emperor when he ran out of soulless bodies.

It became a drawn-out defense as I worked my third of the corridor. Time seemed irrelevant as I fought. Sometimes one of the Nashasari rushed me, but either my air shield or one from one of the dozen mages supporting us interceded and slowed him.

We didn’t go unscathed either. After I crippled or killed more than ten Nashasari, the Sentinel in the center of our wall fell when a much smaller Nashasari scrambled between the legs of his companion. This small serpent man grappled the large elf’s ankles and immobilized him long enough that his aether shield was expended, and he lost his head to a horizontal slash immediately after.

I pierced the spine of the Nashasari at his feet and took to defending half the passage until someone could reinforce the center. When a Sentinel did fill the line, he came on my left, leaving me in the center. We had given up nearly ten feet of corridor in the brief exchange, but more importantly, the large elf who fell was one of the better fighters among the Sentinels.

I was suddenly much busier, not only fighting my opponent but supporting the Sentinels on my left and right with air shields. There was no break in the fighting, as soon as one of the serpent men fell, another was already eager to assume its place.

Things got sticky when we were backed up to the base of the stairs. Our support was crowded above, but they could no longer see the enemy mages. Aetheric missiles and fire darts frequently got through to us. I had my own shields, but my comrades did not. One was blinded by a splash of fire to his helm and was quickly cut down before I could aid him, since my own opponent pressed at the same time.

We were up the stairs to hold at the next landing, and I found Fenlorian had taken the position on my right. How long had I been fighting now? My arms felt heavy, but there was no end in sight. We fought together, holding the top of the stairs for a time. Then the dreaded news came: “The enemy has reached the Repository in the south stair!”

It was Fenlorian who gave the order reluctantly. In a hoarse voice, he shouted. “Have all stairs retreat to the top of the Repository and regroup there!” The decision to surrender so many floors and the wealth was not given lightly. Still, I agreed it was the correct call. Even though our position still had one full level to defend, we would be attacked from behind as they flooded the Repository and would be trapped.

I remained at the front and served as the rear guard with Fenlorian as the Sentinels grabbed what supplies they could carry and destroyed the rest. Racks of potions were pushed over. Vials of alchemical acid were poured on weapons. I loosened the few pounds of yellow mushrooms over the stairs. The mushrooms bounced off the Nashasari warriors, emitting their spores as they tumbled down the steps.

I could hear coughing and wheezing as I retreated and smiled grimly. It was not a pleasant way to die. It gave their advance pause and allowed us to pull back and ascend through the Repository unhindered. You could hear the flood of Nashasari as they poured into the Repository below, no longer restricted to one path. Throaty cries of victory sounded as they pressed their advantage. I wondered how close we had been to expending their cohort. We must have killed thousands of them. 

I was one of the last to reach the top of the Repository. Dark smoke was already drifting up to us as some books were being burned. Fenlorian was close and looked down the shafts in disgust. “If I could collapse the entire Repository on their head, I would. Damn the knowledge for the victory.”

“What is preventing you?” I asked, suddenly realizing how tired I was. I sheathed magebane with difficulty, and Boris’s blade vanished.

Another Sentinel chuckled darkly. The irony is that the Repository has been reinforced to protect the knowledge within. We were only able to collapse the east stair because it was excavated five hundred years ago and lacked reinforcement by powerful mages. We were trying to remove the runes on the north stair, but we have so few artificers and their work was better spent adding wards to protect the vaults.” I thought grimly that Lepidus was safely tucked away on the plateau and was probably the strongest artificer in Sanctuary. He should be helping down here and putting his life on the line with the other Sentinels.

A Sentinel reported to Fenlorian. “We removed the artifacts on the shelves that were too dangerous and layered more wards over the vaults that contain the most dangerous knowledge and devices.” Fenlorian didn’t seem as optimistic about the protections on his face.

We waited at the top of the Repository for the Nashasari and ghouls to reach us. The Nashasari seemed to spread like a plague below, infecting the Repository. Intermittent explosions could be heard when they were triggered by wards and traps left behind. Each explosion caused one of the Sentinels to guess which vault and ward had been triggered. It was a dark game, but all we could do from our position.

I rested near Fenlorian, so I heard all the reports coming to him. To my relief, the plateau was still secure, with bats and gulls circling high above. There was a concern that the wraith had vanished, but it was one enemy.

The report on the Sentinels' fighting strength was not very encouraging. “Two hundred six confirmed dead, fifty-two missing, High Sentinel.”

“How many Sentinels can still fight?” the High Sentinel said, clenching his jaw.

“Roughly two hundred skilled warriors. Equal that number in mages, but we have used the last of the aether restoratives, and one in four mages are burnt.” Fenlorian looked over at me and nodded in thanks for my contribution.

“And the strength of the enemy?” he asked the mage.

“They will have an endless supply of ghouls, but we believe the number of Nashasari warriors is under six hundred, and their mages are under a hundred. We have very few confirmed deaths of their mages,” he reported.

Fenlorian played the numbers in his head. And I could tell what he was thinking. He was considering turning the tables and attacking instead of defending. The explosions below intensified, and the repeated reverberations caused a large amount of dust to hang in the air. “They are attempting to get into the vaults,” someone noted.

Fenlorian stood. “Everyone rest. If they do not approach our position, we will attack theirs in four hours.” I figured that would align with sunrise, so the timing made sense. We wouldn’t have to worry about defending the plateau and pull Sentinels from the plateau to help.

I walked the upper level, not feeling inclined to sleep. I recognized several resting Sentinels, but I was looking for one in particular. When I didn’t find her, I asked after her and was directed up the north stairs. Baelira had her feet up on a crate and was sleeping. She had no visible injuries and I took a seat against the wall near her.

She didn’t open her eyes as I got comfortable. “Decided to join the fun down here?” Her voice said in a whisper.

“Something like that,” I replied. “Did you avoid getting burnt?”

She opened her eyes and looked at me. “So far. You?”

“Same.” I passed her two of the remaining aether restoratives. It was purely selfish on my part. “So you can watch my back again,” I explained as she gratefully took them. “You smell horrendous.”

After she secured the potions, she sat up and folded he legs under her. “I was fighting the ghouls and the last of the soulless. We didn’t see a soulless in the last few hours, so we may have finally wiped them out. Now we just have to kill them all again as ghouls…and then again as whatever lesser undead they return as.”

I handed her some water, choosing not to reply. She sipped it, and we sat in silence waiting. Someone came up the stairs to inform us that Fenlorian planned to press the attack in two hours. I already knew that was likely going to be the plan. It would be a chaotic press.

The explosions became more infrequent and then suddenly stopped. Then the echoes of fighting started, and Baelira and I looked at each other, confused. We headed down the stairs to find out if the assault had already begun. I led us right to where I left Fenlorian and his group. It didn’t look like the Sentinels had charged, yet clearly the sounds of combat were echoing from the Repository.

“Golem?” I guessed as I approached the leadership.

Fenlorian shook his head, more concerned. “The Nashasari are fighting the ghouls.”

“That is great news,” I said.

“Yes, the betrayal is good news, but it likely means the Brotherhood and the Lich Emperor wanted the same thing—and they found it.”

20 sneezing pellets 

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