Defeating the Legion in the field is easy. Anyone with half a brain can do that. Half the Imperial commanders have no clue how to even use their troops and will defeat themselves as long as you don't screw up.

Removing the Empire from all the forts and castles they’ll build once they’re there? That’s something else entirely.

-Zaerzis Evruth, General of the Empire of the Sun on the viability of a counterattack after she wiped out an Elteni incursion.

Miallói frowned as she returned to her position. Magister Tiberius raised an eyebrow.

“So? What did he say?”

She shrugged.

“Surrender.”

Magister Tiberius nodded.

“And you said?”

“No.”

Magister Tiberius shook his head.

“What did he expect? It’s unlike him to waste time like that.”

Miallói nodded in response. But her frown deepened as Magister Tiberius turned back to the Dobhar.

She glanced around at the Imperials. Some had real Imperial armor and weapons, the signs of her oppressors. The ones slowly bleeding her people, drawing them away from their home, eroding their way of life. The very weapons who had struck down the Selkies long ago.

And now the most stalwart allies the Selkies had ever had.

She glanced around at the others.

These had nothing but thick clothing and homemade shields and spears. They were farmers, peasants, craftsmen. The normal people just trying to live their lives.

The colonizers encroaching on her people’s land.

And the ones they spoke with each and every day. The ones who lent a hand when the storms battered the villages. The ones who tried to learn the Selkie language and who treated her people as friends.

The ones who loved this land like she did, and who would die to defend it.

But the ones who would die. The weak ones who could not possibly win this battle alone.

What was the right choice?

What would preserve her people, and their way of life?

What should Miallói do?

Just then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around.

Magister Tiberius was looking right at her, concern on his face.

“Everything all right, Miallói?”

She shook her head.

“Fine.”

He heaved a sigh and lowered his hand. He whispered to her, in a voice he knew only her ears could catch.

“Looks like this might be the end, huh?”

Miallói silently nodded. Magister Tiberius took a deep breath.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll…along with a signet ring. He whispered.

“Transfer.”

A small jewel on the ring flashed once.

And then he placed them both in Miallói’s hands. She tilted her head.

“..what?”

Magister Tiberius heaved a sigh.

“Look…I know what our plan is…and I know the Governor already tried to help your people. But…I’m not sure the Empire will care about her deals if Turannia itself falls. So if and when we’re about to lose…get out of here, Miallói. Take as many of your people as you can. The Empire left us here…but you don’t deserve to die with us. So I’m appointing you the new Magister Exploratores per Turannia in the case I don’t survive. It won’t matter to most of the Empire…but it might get you a door into the rest of the Exploratores, as more than just another scout. And that’s a letter of introduction from Dux Canus to some of his old friends. Hopefully it’ll help you and your people.”

Miallói’s eyes widened.

“What are you…”

Former Magister Tiberius smiled sadly at her.

“Dux Canus and I already spoke about this. I know it wasn’t for us…but you’ve done a lot for us both. We wanted to do what we could for you. Just to let you know…it was an honor to fight by your side.”

Then he turned back to the Dobhar, and said no more.

Miallói stared at him for a few moments longer.

She put the scroll and the ring into a pouch.

She clenched her fists.

She made her choice.

She didn’t care for the Empire that abandoned her.

But she did care for the Imperials who stood beside her.

So…she would not betray them into the hands of her enemies. Not even for King Uscfrea’s promise.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Warriors like these deserved to stand with their friends…to the end.

She whispered back.

“As it is to stand by yours.”

King Uscfrea heaved a sigh as his people spread out around the city and set up camp. He had drilled them as hard as he could, but they were still inferior to even Imperial farmers at the task. It turned out a race that spent their entire lives at sea were not particularly good at digging in the dirt.

But well, he could drill them all he liked, but it didn’t matter if the Dobhar didn’t understand the point of the exercises. Most of his warriors, bless their hearts, had little in their heads besides their next meal or level. They did not understand why their legendary king feared these weak human farmers…or why he wanted to emulate them.

Well, to be fair, that applied to King Uscfrea himself. He had tried to copy the form of the Legion, but he couldn’t claim to understand it. He didn’t truly know why the Empire did all the things they did or what they were trying to achieve with any given one. So he couldn’t truly teach his people their ways.

But he wasn’t planning on a long siege anyways, so it wouldn’t matter much. And the Dobhar were starting to learn. On the surface the night air quickly grew cold and the wind was biting. Even the rain, the water his people longed for, betrayed them on the surface. In the sea, the water insulated and maintained a solid temperature. It sheltered and protected them. On land? The water sapped the very heat from their bodies as it dried up in the surface air, contributing further to the cold. His warriors grew more enthusiastic about the idea of setting camp with each passing day.

But not tonight, for the Dobhar would strike at sunset. When the humans’ land sight would be as poor as their own.

King Uscfrea let out a groan.

A direct assault on the very first day would not have been his first choice. But the situation was not as favorable to the Dobhar as it may have appeared. The Dobhar were incredibly tough and ferocious. They could tank blows from Legion steel and tear the throat out of an Imperial legionary with ease. Those very legionaries weren’t even here, and the Dobhar outnumbered the peasant militias that were several times over.

But that did not account for the walls of Castra Turannia.

The Dobhar were simply not very good at siege warfare. Or rather, they had hardly conducted a siege in their entire existence as a race. Why would they? A race that spends almost their entire lives on the surface of the ocean has little need or opportunity to construct walls and towers.

The Empire, on the other hand, were the undisputed masters of castles. Both breaking into them, and defending them.

The Legion and the Selkies could escape any encirclement the Dobhar made with ease, and then wreak terrible havoc with hit and run tactics. And there were a handful of Wulver clans hounding his army as well that the Dobhar could do little to stop. The Dobhar weren’t exactly slow on land but they weren’t used to moving around on it either. They would not catch a force of either Selkies or Wulver if the other side didn’t want to be caught.

And worse was the logistical situation.

Which is to say, the Dobhar’s logistics were practically non-existent.

His people were a race of ocean-dwelling hunter-gatherers. They did not mass the same scale of stockpiles the Imperial farmers did, and had no experience transporting large quantities of food across land. They could forage and loot from the countryside but again, the Dobhar were out of their element in this place, and would not be particularly effective at the task. Especially not with humans and Selkies and Wulver ambushing their foraging parties at every opportunity.

His army would likely run out of food before Castra Turannia did.

And finally…the Empire may be dying, but it wasn’t at all dead. Not even close. So it might be occupied at the moment…but it wasn’t about to lie down and give up.

If the Dobhar took Turannia immediately, conquered its fortifications, and drove the Empire out of the land while the province was undefended, the Empire would shrug and write it off as no big loss.

But if the Empire finished up whatever business had drawn the Legions away and Castra Turannia was still under siege?

The Legions would return and pay the Dobhar back with interest.

So in more ways than one, the Dobhar were on the clock. Waiting around would only serve their enemies.

Attacking as soon as possible was the best choice.

But still, King Uscfrea grimaced.

A great many Dobhar would die this day.

Not least of all due to the Selkies. King Uscfrea knew there was little love between their peoples, but still he assumed they were chafing under the Empire’s yolk. So he thought they might leap at the chance to rid themselves of the invaders. At the very least, he had not expected to them to commit to an ally that had effectively abandoned them.

But Miallói had not seemed very enthusiastic about the idea. He may have misjudged what the Selkies thought of their overlords.

Or…he underestimated just how much hate still remained between their peoples. Their shared history had been one of almost exclusively blood. It was possible, maybe even probable that the Selkies still considered him worse than the Empire.

He shook his head. Such thoughts were pointless now. He had done all he could to convince the Selkies, their fate was in their own hands. What he needed to do now was focus on winning this battle as quickly as he could.

One of his elites, Estrith, walked up to him and bowed her head, striking her tail on the ground once.

“My King, all is as you commanded. What are your orders?”

He nodded at her.

“Tell everyone to rest up, and pass out extra rations today. We attack tonight, once the sun is down.”

She repeated her salute. King Uscfrea heaved a sigh.

“And Estrith…”

She looked up.

“Yes, My King?”

He looked her in the eye.

“Win this battle and I shall grant you what you seek.”

Her eyes went as wide as they could go. She once again bowed her head, striking the ground with a heavy thud.

“Yes, My King! I will see it done!”

King Uscfrea shook his head as Estrith ran off, executing his commands with all too much enthusiasm.

He was fond of Estrith, she was a loyal and brave warrior unlike any other. But he did not like the way his people did things. The men would sire pups and then just leave them to their mothers, spending all their time hunting across the sea. He personally didn’t know who his father was to this day.

There was a reason the Dobhar swore by their mothers.

But it was necessary. The champions of his people had to continue fighting, continue growing. They could not defend their people from the terrors of the deep if they did not. So a father who wasted his time playing with the pups put his whole family at risk. Their race could not afford such indulgences.

But if he won this battle here, if he claimed this land for his own, if he unlocked the secrets of the Empire’s strength, then perhaps that would change.

And once it did?

Well, then it might finally be time to sire some pups of his own.

The sun had just set when the Dobhar started to move. They formed up into groups like the Legion, and marched towards the walls.

And the defenders of the city had noticed.

The limitanei stood across the outer city walls, spears at the ready. A handful of Selkies were interspersed among them. The siege engines on top of the Legion keep creaked and slowly turned, taking aim outside the walls.

And, of course, it was raining this night as well.

King Dobhar raised his hand and the Dobhar horde stopped as one. He took his axe and slammed the handle into the ground.

Then he started striking the ground with the handle, over and over.

And all across his army, the Dobhar responded in kind. Those with weapons struck them on the ground. Those without slammed the ground with their tails. All in rhythm, all in line with the beat King Uscfrea set.

King Uscfrea glanced around, trying to spot Miallói, but he couldn’t distinguish individual Selkies at this distance. He took a quiet breath and then stopped the beat.

The whole city fell silent.

And then King Uscfrea raised his axe into the sky and gave a mighty shout.

Estrith roared in response, and then all the Dobhar lifted their voices.

And with that, the Dobhar charged towards the walls.

Up on the walls, Magister Tiberius frowned. He took out the crossbow on his back and prepared a bolt. As he did, he shouted.

“Prepare!”

Two rows of limitanei stood upon the walls. The first, with shields and spears in hand. The second held crossbows like the Magister. All these now drew their crossbows and slotted in bolts as the centurions relayed the Magister’s command.

The Dobhar continued rushing towards the walls, roaring with bestial voices.

“Aim!”

Magister Tiberius took aim over the shoulders of the soldiers in front of him. The rest of the limitanei followed suit.

He activated his Eagle Eye skill, focusing in on the Dobhar approaching. He waited until he could see the glint of the moon in their eyes.

“Release!”

And with that, a hail of crossbow bolts flew from the city walls and found purchase.

The Dobhar in the front row began dropping to the ground.

The Dobhar roared in anger and continued forward.

And so the Battle of Castra Turannia began.