Pools of Darkness - James M Brown [87]
"There, that alone should get Marcus's attention. Now I can cast the spell that will-"
He looked up suddenly as a whistling sound caught his attention. But the wizard never saw what hit him. In his haste to outshine his companions, Thar had made himself a target. His scheming brain was now pinned to the ground by a two-hundred pound, cone-shaped rock.
Marcus was concentrating deeply on the battle, growing agitated. His tree-minions were pounding on the stone walls, but the trees' tentacles were slipping and couldn't get a firm grip. Worse, the trees were dying by the scores as fire, burning oil, arrows, and rocks rained down on them.
Marcus refused to be daunted. "No matter. There are untold numbers of tactical maneuvers to destroy walls. I'll order the flanking movement, then personally supervise the storming of the wall."
He turned the nightmare toward the mercenary contingent of his army, bellowing out orders. His enhanced voice was impossible to ignore. "You humans and ogres-advance on the northern gate and stir things up there. If the fight gets too dangerous, retreat. I plan to personally lead the remainder of the army as it breaches the wall!" The mass of sword-swinging monsters and mercenaries instantly mobilized.
Back on the wall of Phlan, a chuckling cleric gave new instructions to waiting messengers.
Marcus mentally ordered the tree-minions to form living ladders of vegetation. Hundreds of the tree-creatures wound themselves together and thousands of evil soldiers began to climb slowly upward and onto the walls of Phlan. Tarl shouted orders for the clerics to attempt spells of control on the trees, but to no avail. Defenders slashed away with swords and spears to no effect. Halberds and axes chopped into mouldy bark, but too many monsters were scaling the walls.
Trumpets were sounded and entire wall sections abandoned. Tarl now shouted the order for Phlan's secret defense tactic.
As the mass of Moander's tree-minions crawled over the walls in victory, Marcus shouted at them gleefully.
"I've done it! I've beaten them! Now I, Marcus of Thay, own that city. My troops will scale all the walls. By tomorrow, I will be a demigod and these pathetic humans will bow to me!"
Far below Marcus, a brown-robed wizard had witnessed Thar's death. Porter was next in line for command, and now he rejoiced at his good fortune. He planned to lead the wizards to the outer limits of catapult range, allow the defenders to fire one volley, then order a retreat. But as his unit approached the gate, he was surprised that not a single arrow greeted them.
Porter scanned the walls, seeing no one. During their approach, he had seen hundreds of defenders running from the gates to help defend against the tree-minions. The wall was all but deserted now, even though that seemed unlikely.
"Mage Whills, fly up there and scan the towers. Make sure your spell against arrows is working."
Whills took a moment to activate a spell, then flew onto the wall above the Death Gates. "No one here, sir. They're all fighting Moander's lot!"
Porter was furious. This brief attack wasn't supposed to end like this. There was nothing here to fight! He wanted to retreat, but knew what would happen. Marcus would be furious if one of his leaders challenged his strategy.
The massive Death Gates were intact, magically reconstructed after Marcus's last attack. The doors were locked. Two quick spells popped them open with two loud thuds. Porter had made his decision.
"Alright, men! Let's charge in and see what we find. Ogres, trolls, advance! We're right behind you."
As thousands of pounds of monster flesh surged into the long tunnel, a telepathic message reached the men and wizards under the trap doors of the empty towers on both sides of Death Gates. A warrior-priest of Tyr swinging a glowing blue hammer was the first to leap out of the hidden trap door. Hundreds of warriors surged out of the hidden rooms,