The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

The shield wall held firm, each man steeling himself as wave after wave of monsters broke against them. From their higher ground, the slingers continued to launch a relentless storm of stones down upon the horde. Their sharp eyes picked off trolls before they got to the main line, hitting with such precision that the creatures hesitated before they then went back, not liking the pain.

Slowly, the kings took advantage of the monster's inability to break the wall whilst they were funnelled through the ravine. The ravine stayed narrow as it wound upward, funnelling the beasts into a tighter mass. Brandon called out to his men, and the front line pushed forward, stepping carefully over the corpses of the monsters, shield locked to shield as they advanced down the slope. Spears jabbed out, piercing soft flesh and scattering the creatures' attempts to claw and scramble up.

With the monsters so close, once one fell it never would manage to get back up and so were mopped up as the wall pressed forward.

The mercenaries, seeing the opportunity, surged in from the sides. They took to the high rocks along the ravine's edges, throwing rocks from above, while others closed in from the flanks, squeezing the beasts inward making sure none climbed up and giving them nowhere to run. Hemmed in from all sides, the monsters snarled and roared, clawing at each other in their desperation to escape.

All the different Kings Guards kept up a steady rhythm, pressing forward in unison, pushing the creatures back with shields and spears. The kings each rallying them with fierce cries, hacking through monsters if they managed to get behind the wall. The slingers' stones hit home with force, battering down any creature that broke from the ravine, or any monsters that stood out, sending them sprawling back. The beasts began to stumble over their own dead, slipping in blood and loose dirt, their desperate howls growing louder as their way forward closed in.

They pushed onwards, further and further up the ravine, taking turns and corners, further and further up the hills into the steep mountains of the Lonely Hills. Until at last, the shield wall pushed forward in one mighty surge, Brandon at the centre, his sword cleaving through the last few beasts in their path. Dire wolves and ghouls fell under his strikes, their snarls cut short. They had opened up into a large area of the ravine that they had not seen before. The monsters, broke and fled, as they fell into the far rear of the open gorge.

As the monster retreated the too-slow, or injured ones fell behind and one by one, the creatures were taken down, falling under spear thrusts as the slingers had fallen quiet without a direct line of ranged attack, now stuck behind the main defensive line. The men fought as a united force, pressing forward as the monster horde thinned until at last the majority of the beasts broke free and fled deeper into the hills, their cries echoing into the hills.

The battlefield was littered with fallen monsters, blood seeping into the earth as the men finally lowered their shields, breaths heaving with exhaustion and relief. After hours of fighting, they had a moment to finally catch their breath whilst the King discussed the plans.

With the battle's momentum on their side, Brandon and the others decided to advance further into the ravine. The once narrow rock walls continued to widen as they moved forward, and soon, at the heart of the ravine, they glimpsed an immense, Heart Tree, far larger than any of them had ever seen. Its blood-red leaves rustled, casting a stark contrast against the cold stone and the murky light filtering in. The face carved into the tree seemed to stare at them with stillness, as it watching their every move.

And there, standing before the Heart Tree, was Aloe. His figure was slight, almost fragile against the bulk of the monsters surrounding him. His eyes glinted with a wild, unhinged glee, his hands outstretched, seeming to pulse with the wind around the tree. Around him loomed a handful of trolls, their hulking bodies standing as Aloe's silent, monstrous guards, followed by many of the monsters that had just fled the ghouls, dire wolves, and even a few scattered ice spiders.

The King raised their swords, rallying the men as they pushed forward quickly forming up into the shield wall. The trolls braced themselves, roaring as they swung massive limbs and branches onto the ground like a drum waking them all up.

Without the slingers to hold back the trolls the King brought forth their final weapon to fight them. Massive long spears tipped with as sharp as possible Obsidian points were brought to the front. The men pointed the spears forward and japed as the trolls got nearby. The trolls charged in and smashed into the defensive line. A few men were thrown back by the brutal strikes, but the rest pressed forward, the spear weapon raised, and they thrust forward. Though the troll's hides were thick and tough, not all of their calloused skin could resist even the sharpest blade, and the spears struck deep into the softest skin they could find.

"Drive them back!" Brandon shouted, watching as the first stabbed troll screened out in alarm. The troll then staggered back away from the spear, and roared in pain, before it fell to the back line and ran away.

One by one, they drove the trolls off, each lumbering back toward the shadows once injured enough. But Brandon and his men had their sights set forward. They pushed onward, determined to reach Aloe.

The kings closed ranks, leading the final push. As they neared Aloe, he looked up at them, a flicker of amusement flashing across his face. He whispered something to the tree, in a guttural tongue, and yet nothing happened as Aloe's smile got wider and his pincer arm twitched.

But the warriors were relentless. With trolls driven back they could push forward, they focused every bit of strength and skill they had, carving a path toward Aloe through the horde that surrounded him. As the men advanced, it seemed that the Heart Tree loomed even larger behind Aloe, casting a blood-red shadow over the battle that churned closer, step by step, to them.