The oars on the longships churned the sea, pushing towards the shore. There were three of them. The skiffs, adrift on the tides, were pushed aside, some filling with water and sinking. Other got caught in the oars, and some were beached, but the effect was achieved—the leading longship slowed greatly, faltering just before the shore. The militiamen by the palisades launched a volley of arrows, and the snow elves aboard had to block them with their shields and duck low. Only a few were hit.

Argrave had planned to use a fire spell to catch the ship aflame, but Anneliese would quickly counter that with magic of her own. He could not see her now; she had likely moved to the back. He stood a little in front of the knights, watching the situation with a calm mind. The militiamen stood before them holding their spears out to the boat ahead like pikemen waiting for a horse’s charge.

He saw someone fly through the air, leaping like a grasshopper from the back of the boat. He saw a waving mass of white hair and recognized the person as Anneliese; she had used a C-rank wind spell to launch herself to the boat further from the shore. He watched her closely. She pointed to the archers behind the palisade and shouted at the oarsmen.

She’s recognized the archers as the largest threat, Argrave thought to himself. As the closest longship slowly started to push past the tide of fishing boats, the archers had prepared another round of arrows to fire. They were close enough that not many missed, but the Veidimen blocked them with their large shields very well. After, the elves stood and threw javelins and axes. Their accuracy was terrifying, and the few archers that did not duck received a grievous blow.

Ahead, the longship Anneliese had landed on veered off from the beach and headed straight towards the docks. She’s planning to ram it into the docks so that she can get at the archers quickly. She'd lose the boat, almost certainly, but the archers are defenseless. Argrave considered stepping away to protect them, but the bulk of the troops would still be at the beach, and so he stayed.

Ryles, though, was not idle. “Militiamen, three steps forward! Knight Gilbert, take the men beneath you and protect the docks!”

One knight broke off from the rest, and five men followed behind him. The gates opened for them and quickly shut. At the beaches, the first of the Veidimen jumped from the longship and into the shallow waters. Each bore a long axe and a round shield. The militiamen rushed forward, stabbing at a long range with their spears.

Argrave stepped forward. If Anneliese was absent, he could go back to the original plan. He held his hand out and conjured his only C-rank spell, [Wargfire]. He felt the magic within drain significantly, and a great wolf of fire lunged forward, catching one of the Veidimen aflame and setting the bow of the longship on fire. He had used a large spell so that the fire would not be extinguished easily, though he loathed spending so much of his magic so early.

The snow elf that had been caught on fire dropped into the water to extinguish the flames, and the militiamen seized the initiative to stab him as he lay there. Like this, their confidence was bolstered. Another of the Veidimen waded from the shallows onto the shore, receiving three spears on his shield. He swatted them aside and threw his axe right at Argrave.

Argrave did not retreat; he stepped forward and cast an E-rank wind spell. It was a common strategy to use wind magic against projectiles in ‘Heroes of Berendar,’ as wards were costly and restrictive. The axe bounced back, falling into the sand. The leading elf was stopped by the mound of militiamen, blocking with his shield as he pulled a spare axe strapped to his waist.

The flames did not spread too quickly, but they consumed the front of the ship, making it impossible to drop right into the shallow water immediately. Most of the Veidimen were jumping into the deep portion of the water now, swimming towards the shore. Some beached skiffs funneled them into a line, restricting their mobility.

Argrave waited until they were bunched closely for maximum efficiency and started casting [Writhing Lightning] sparingly. The electricity danced between the group, offering the militiamen time to attack in the spasms that followed. Some of them were unable to raise their shields in time to block spears, and they began to fall one after the other.

Despite the clear disadvantage, the Veidimen began to push the militiamen back, blocking their spears and pushing forward. Another volley of arrows came from behind, and the Veidimen could not block. Many of them fell dead or wounded into the sea, arrows sticking from their backs.

Behind the first longship, the second was coming in at a fair distance to the left, giving the first a wide berth and attempting to land far away from where the troops were most concentrated. The third longship sped towards the docks with terrifying speed, well prepared to sacrifice the vessel for an advantage.

In front of Argrave, one of the snow elves hooked a spear with an axe, yanking one of the militiamen forward. The elf dispatched the man with chilling efficiency after with a blow to the head. He stepped over the corpse of one of his comrades, advancing forward into a tide of spears. The few Veidimen still aboard the longship tossed axes, killing many of the spearmen who were not expecting such an attack.

The spearmen, shaken after such a turn, nearly broke formation. Ryles shouted behind, “Hold the line!”

A monstrous noise roared from the docks, and Argrave saw the longship cut into the village of Barden. The Veidimen aboard rocked, holding the railings tightly, and some few fell into the sea. Screams came from the village—some panicked, others crying out in war. The archers turned to address the snow elves that were landing behind them.

“Wizard Argrave!” Ryles shouted over the din. “I will leave you here with two knights. Take command of the spearmen! We must go confront the second landing party!”

No, you idiot! We finish this group up quickly, and then move to confront the others!

“Understood!” Argrave returned despite his thoughts. He reflected another javelin with an E-rank wind-spell. He was starting to feel his calm mind waver, and he quickly retrieved another potion from his satchel to suppress his rising nerves. He finished it and dropped it to the sand.

The knights marched away, their loud clangs of steel heading towards the longship in the distance. As though seeing a chance, the Veidimen before them pushed forward, bracing their shields and pushing. Some of the militia’s spears bent and snapped.

This push against the tide continued, the snow elves forcing back the superior numbers of the militiamen up the beach. Soon, they were near dry sand. One of the militiamen fell, grabbing a fellow by his side for support. The line collapsed in the center, and the Veidimen seized the initiative.

Argrave lunged and cast the D-rank [Wind Wall] hoping to stall the snow elves from advancing further long enough for the line to recover. Though they bounced back, one stepped forward with a glimmering black axe of Ebonice, shattering the wind barrier before it could do much of anything. The snow elf was perhaps five feet away, and steadily approached Argrave.

Pivoting on his foot, Argrave casted [Writhing Lightning] at the ground to avoid the Ebonice. The damage was diminished but the man spasmed, and Argrave stepped forward, pulling the axe from his loose grip. He held his other hand to the man’s visor, conjuring the E-rank spell [Wind Knife], piercing his eyes through the Viking-like spangenhelm. He pushed the man’s dead body backward into the tide of Veidimen.

“Knights! Advance with me! Militiamen, retreat three steps and reform the line!”

Two armored knights came beside Argrave, protecting him with their shields. Argrave’s magic was half-spent by his estimation. The tide of Veidimen rushing forth slowed and split as the dead body fell in front of them. The Ebonice axe felt heavy, but Argrave held it at hand.

“Shield charge!” Argrave directed the two knights. They rushed forward, slamming into the tide of Veidimen with their shields. Despite the size difference, without much countering momentum the front few elves fell backwards like dominos, and their advance was stalled briefly. Seeing them so thoroughly bunched, Argrave cast another [Writhing Lightning] in the center. The knights stepped forward, stabbing at those who had fallen.

“Knights, fall behind the spear line!” Argrave commanded, stepping backwards. The Veidimen, after gaining their bearings, rushed forward with great speed. Argrave cast another [Wind Wall], and they collided against it before moving around it. Argrave and the knights slipped past the militia line, waiting behind them.

The snow elves rushed towards them, unimpeded by water or slopes any longer. Their armor and clothes were drenched and they ran through sand, so their speed was not at full potential. Still, their formidable size and unified charge made it seem like confronting a charging elephant. The militiamen stepped back even though the enemy was many yards away.

“How convenient!” Argrave shouted and laughed. “They’re coming to be impaled on their own!”

His humor was not exceptional, but it had the effect he intended; the militiamen were calmed slightly. Some of the snow elves hung back, throwing axes and javelins through the air. Argrave countered what few came near him with low-ranking wind-magic. When their charge was close, Argrave held his hand out and shot another [Writhing Lightning] at the ground before them. Their unity was shattered as the center stumbled, but many carried forward unimpeded.

The great rush of shields clashed with the spearmen, casting many to the ground. Some of the spears found their way past the shields, and some of the elves did genuinely impale themselves. Things became chaotic quickly. Argrave directed the knights beside him to step forward and attack. He dared not use [Writhing Lightning] when they were just a heap of bodies as they were.

Argrave saw something moving atop the palisade and turned his head. The archers had fallen, it seemed. The Veidimen came atop the palisades, brandishing their weapons. Shortly after, Anneliese came to stand, surveying the battlefield.

Two of the snow elves broke off from the rest and pursued Argrave, both wielding Ebonice axes. The knights were separated from him, so Argrave stepped back to gain some distance, holding his Ebonice axe in front. His eyes widened as he recognized one of them; Vorath, the original commander of the occupants in Barden. He was both a mage and a warrior, though only a D-rank mage.

Argrave pranced about, keeping his distance from the two elves and keeping his eye on Anneliese at the palisade. Both his foes had Ebonice, and he was running low on magic. He dared not move recklessly. Vorath and his companion were wary, watching Argrave’s hands as though expecting him to cast a spell.

Seeing they were so cautious, Argrave stood still to bait an action. In his peripheries, he saw Anneliese preparing a spell. He did not turn his head to face it, doing his best to appear ignorant of her actions. A spear of ice formed, and Anneliese propelled the aptly named C-rank spell, [Ice Spear], towards Argrave.

At the last second, he turned his body towards the ice spear, holding his hand out. Trying to break it with the Ebonice would only break his arm; instead, he did what he had been doing to all of the projectiles thrown at him. He redirected it with a D-rank wind spell. It veered away, flying towards Vorath and his companion. Both leapt away, but the spear stabbed the one Argrave did not know in the leg, pinning him to the ground.

Argrave seized the initiative, striding past the fallen snow elf and towards Vorath. The former commander was calm. He raised the Ebonice axe in the air to swing down at Argrave, but in his other hand behind the shield, a spell matrix formed. A wave of fire erupted, but Argrave expected this. He slashed at it with the Ebonice axe, dispelling the magic and dropping the axe to free his hand.

His plan disrupted, Vorath swung his axe down at Argrave’s shoulder. Argrave held one hand up and cast [Wind Knife] towards the man’s wrist. Blood spurted and the axe fell from his hands, but it still retained its momentum, cutting Argrave’s back as it fell. Argrave staggered but kept his bearings enough to use his other hand to cast [Wind Knife] on Vorath's neck to finish him. The two collapsed next to each other, one dead.

Argrave sat up, pushing Vorath’s corpse away. He reached for his back to close the wound with healing magic but realized it would be the last of his magic. He might need what little remained to hold back Anneliese. Though he turned to look, the elven spellcaster was gone from the palisade.

He stood, turning his sights towards the militiamen. There, he witnessed a knight finish off the last of the snow elves. Two spearmen and one knight were all that remained. Argrave swallowed his pain, drinking another potion and advancing forward. He grabbed the Ebonice axe that had cut his back.

“Everyone! We follow Ryles’ knights, rejoin with them!” Argrave shouted.

“But Barden—” the knight began.

“You expect us to throw ourselves against the palisade with only four? Regroup. Get away from their throwing range. They are already behind the walls.”

Argrave would not dare say it aloud, but he was glad they were behind the walls. It would give them more time for Galamon to finish his task, and some little time to recover his magic.

The real question lies in if Ryles’ group defeated the second ship. If they fell… Argrave shook his head. Ryles had lived through the assault on Barden before, even if he lost the village. He must live through it again. Things would be different in this reality.