Pools of Darkness - James M Brown [39]
"I don't have the slightest idea," Ren said, looking into her deep gray eyes. He couldn't remember a time when he had been more confused.
7
Phlan Under Siege
The battle plans were ready. Troops were assembled and trained. Monsters were recruited, bribed, and in position. All varieties of spellcasters-both clerics and wizards-were ready to unleash magical fury on the unsuspecting city.
Phlan was about to be attacked again.
At the center of this swarm of activity was a cackling, evil, overconfident wizard. Red robes flowed around him as he galloped among the troops on his horrifying black horse, a nightmare. Catching sight of his battle commander, he trotted over to issue final instructions. Marcus was exhilarated by the thought of the upcoming conflict.
"Commander Brittle, with the forces we now command, we can't lose. The pathetic citizens of Phlan will soon know what it is to have their lives ripped from their grasp." Marcus laughed an evil, grating howl.
The battle commander turned toward his superior. Neck and spine bones creaked and cracked as the skeletal warrior moved. The clicking of bones and the rattle of armor was audible above the sounds of battle preparations. Marcus grinned. Undead creatures fascinated him. He was delighted to have skeletons, ghouls, wights, and other undead making up nearly half his army. These creatures weren't harmed by the injuries that could devastate a human; they didn't bleed and were immune to many spells. Marcus had spells to simulate such effects, but these benefits came naturally to undead creatures. The wizard grinned again.
Brittle listened to his leader with feigned respect. A thousand years ago, he had been a mighty human commander of an army of hundreds of thousands. Buried peacefully until recently, he had been awakened and animated by Tanetal to serve this crazed wizard.
The undead warrior wasn't impressed by the forces passing in review, but he would do his best to serve. There was always the chance to move up in rank if those above him became casualties of war. But even Marcus's position didn't pique his interest. The ragged assembly of warriors, monsters, and spellcasters was neither disciplined nor properly trained. Great numbers of creatures had been assembled, nearly twice the population of Phlan, but Brittle doubted their effectiveness. Time would tell.
This red-robed wizard was arrogant and overconfident. He organized a terrific military parade, but simply wasn't a strategist.
If the skeleton had been capable of breathing, Brittle would have sighed. Instead, he faked interest in the wizard's babbling. Skeletal warriors couldn't be choosy about whom they served.
"The gates of Phlan must fall in this attack. The gates will fall in this attack. There are thousands of men out there ready to die for me. After the gates are dust, we will sweep into the city and decimate the rabble trying to defend their homes. But remember, as tempting as it may be, we can't kill them all. Most of the pathetic humans must be captured and taken to the dark pool. I have some enticing rewards planned for my commanders who prove themselves today." Marcus's eyes gleamed.
Brittle was irritated. He had heard all these plans before, over and over. All seven feet of his undead body crackled with mystical energy.
The bony commander knew what would really happen. The mercenaries would run at the first sign of real resistance. Even the piles of gold the pit fiend had promised them after a victory wouldn't be enough to make them hold rank. Against Marcus's wishes, Brittle had placed better troops behind the puny humans to cut off the inevitable retreat and force the mercenaries to keep fighting.
"Look at those ogres, trolls, and orcs. There must be a thousand of them. With these monsters as the backbone of my army, I know we can't lose today. I wish I'd had these troops a month