Pools of Darkness - James M Brown [41]
"Stupid wizard," hissed Brittle, "now I have to use the ogres to get the trolls moving. And he's destroyed any element of surprise we might have had."
The skeletal leader commanded powerful ogres to move toward the gibbering trolls. Trolls were awesome fighters and difficult to kill, but fire prevented them from regenerating damaged limbs. The lumbering green creatures feared fire above all things. Gods help him, if Brittle survived this fight, the enchanted commander wouldn't ask to be made human again. Thinking unspeakable thoughts, the skeleton imagined it would ask for the heart of the wizard instead. The undead leader snorted a dry chuckle at the thought as he directed the army to attack the gates of Phlan.
* * * * *
The defenders of Phlan were unimpressed by the magical display. None knew why their town had been taken by the gods and sent to this place of evil. None knew when their torture would end. But all knew how to fight, and the force rising against them wouldn't be much trouble. They had endured worse.
"Think they'll attack over here, Ston?" Tulen asked, spitting a chaw of tobacco over the wall.
"Naaa, looks like they're goin' after the Death Gates again. You think they'd learn after the last time. Them trolls are nasty, though. My brother Dorel got eaten by a troll in the hill giant battle we had a few years back."
"Shouldn't be much of a problem this time, Ston. That cleric Tarl sent a bunch of boar skins full of blessed oil over to the gate the other day. That's one smart priest if you ask me."
"I know what you mean. That sorceress wife of his has been cooking up all kinds of magical defenses. And, boy, is she something to look at." Ston snorted a laugh.
"I hear tell our wizards and clerics can't figure out where the gods stuck us. Whaddya think?"
"I guess I'm not surprised none. Wizard stuff ain't normal. But they've usually got an answer for everything. If the gods want us in Faerun or in the Nine Hells, well, then that's where we'll have to be. Mark my words, we'll be back fishing on the Moonsea before the year's out. Tarl has the Warhammer of Tyr, and his god is a tough one to trifle with. If we hold off these attacks, we'll be fine, you betcha."
"Looks like things are heating up over there. What say you and me hustle over and join in the fun?"
"Commander Billings would have our butts for breakfast if we tried leaving our posts. The gate attack could be a diversion for something bigger somewheres else. Remember the fire giant battle? The army of giants that attacked here and a hundred umber hulks burrowed underground and attacked on the other side of the city? Nobody ever saw 'em coming. Now, where would we be if some of those wall defenders had left their wall and come over here to share in the fun?"
"Damnation, you're right. Hate to admit it. What say after our shift here, we go and ask old Billings to be transferred over to the Death Gates. You and me being sixty years old should have some say in where we defend Phlan."
"Now there's an idea. Especially if that ugly Red Wizard is going to lead any more armies against us."
At the Death Gates, the battle was warming up. Marcus's mercenary troops, hauling ladders and siege engines, slowly approached the walls around the gate. The northernmost entry into the city, this main entrance had been built and rebuilt over the stormy, war-torn history of Phlan. Now, this gate was larger and better fortified than any normal gate.
Two huge gatehouses of red Dragonspine stone stood a hundred feet apart and jutted out a hundred feet beyond the walls. The three-story towers were crowded with archers, and equipped with cauldrons of burning oil and small catapults. The double-door gates rose thirty feet. Each was made of aged oak, bound with thick bands of iron to strengthen the doors. The effort necessary to open and close the gates required huge counterweights and pulleys.
Behind these towers, a deadly passage connected with