Chapter 4
by 
GenericEditor168
What will you do?
Bring down the wall in a shower of fire and blood.
Your men start to draw bows (at least, the ones who have them), but you motion for them to stop. You'll take care of this yourself...
You step in close to the wall, and, pressing both hands to it, begin to chant in Draconic, softly muttering the words at first. Your men back away, some raising their shields to protect themselves against the goblin missiles but most raising their shields to protect them against your magic. You ignore them: the fire of the dragons and of the Hells is building inside of you, and you have more important concerns then a few fearful men.
The goblins try to throw their rubble down atop you but miss, the battlements block their shots, and the unfortunate one who tries to climb out over them and throw his heavy piece of stone down atop you topples over the edge and breaks his neck on the missile intended for yours. You ignore that distraction as well, your spell is nearly cast.
Your chant lifts to a roaring crescendo, and at its apex you drive your hands forward into the wall. Everything falls quiet for a few moments, your men and the goblins stare at the wall wondering if anything's happened, but you take this chance to run back to the cover of your men's shieldwall posthaste.
You reach the cover of their shields not a moment too soon, because just after your men close their shields behind you, the wall cracks, a massive rift opening up from the battlements to the base, and then it falls apart into a hundred pieces.
You can't see anything through the dust, but you don't need to see anything. Your race can taste the scents in the air, and there is a strong tang of blood in among the dust. The goblins are no more.
What's next?
