Will Grin(human domain)

William Grin was in the right place at the wrong time. The city burned. The port out to sea was blockaded and it’s citizens were scattered, as much a danger to themselves as the enemy, who even now closed on the city. Save the city. That’s a tall fucking order.

“Alright you sons of whores and thieves!” He sounded. “Infantry! To the south, use the wall as cover, and let’s plug those holes like a virgin on her wedding night! Archers! Direct fire on their flank let’s soften them up! Mages, with me!” He steeled himself, and made a series of complex gestures, before lifting off the ground. Flight always made his stomach turn. His knuckles turned white, gripping his stave in one hand, as he rose. The air was thick with smoke and screams, but at least the screaming became easier to ignore the higher he went.

By now some orcs had surely made it into the city. Heavy smoke obstructed his view. He steadied himself, calming his breathing and forcing himself to think tactically. Fireball? The mage standard answer to any problem was a big damaging area of effect spell… but no not this time. Another quick series of hand gestures provided his troops advancing on the city wall cover, as a swirling mass of darkness covered the enemy. Shrieks, gibbering and mad laughter emanated from the cloud of blight. Several of the creatures caught in the mass rushed out and began attacking their own company.

His troops effectively began clearing the first hole in the wall. Thrice damned. We didn’t expect artillery. Add it to the fucking list. He landed, and took a minute to refocus. Casting spells in such quick succession had its costs, and he had cast more from the high circles today than was… wise.

He would need a vacation after this.

Will planted his staff and called his troops to him, as a fortress made of bedrock from far beneath the earth rose from the ground. It shuddered and groaned as it rose. There was very little surprise from the infantry. They had served under Grin for the last three seasons, and there was little that he could do that would rattle them. His spells had meant victory in situations that looked ****… like today. They were trained, well armed and willing to breach hell for their mad mage commander.

The instant fortress plugged the gap in the wall and suddenly the invaders were **** into a movement action to reach one of the other breaks in the wall. “Alright people, let’s do it again.” Gone was the yelling. He called over Anerra. “Take out that artillery before it puts any more holes in my new wall.” She was an elf woman, medium height, thin build and dressed to the hilt with belts holding potions, reagents, magical tools and other mischief. Her fiery hair at home amongst the burning city behind her. “Your wall sir?” She asked. “If I’m not a Lord by the end of the day I’ll eat my hat… the black one. Not my good one. Besides I’d like to see one of those hoity toity pricks build a fort in less than a minute, and if they give me too much grief I can always offer to take it down.” He grinned maliciously, and it was clear how he’d gained his unusual moniker.

She grinned back and barked out her own orders, leaping from the tower with two other mages following behind her. Will moved to the wall. His maddening darkness was still playing havoc on the enemy. He pushed it forward until it couldn’t maintain its shape and let it dissipate. A swath of destruction was left behind. Dead orcs, seemingly untouched made a neat line, the sight of which was too much for some of the survivors. They broke and fled, and were cut down by their own friends. **** before dishonor.

Explosions rocked the enemy rear. That would be the artillery. One less thing to worry about. The reward better be worth it.