Chapter 27: Shelter?

Whatever little hope I still had in winning this battle quickly evaporates as I see the town we have to defend. No high-walls. Zero watchtowers. Absolutely no defensive positions. Nothing at all, just an ordinary group of houses. Its most prominent features are the typical town tavern at the entrance and a church in the distance.

All that my eye reaches are single-story houses made of a whole lot of wood. Luckily, I ironically think to myself, the roofs are not made of straw.

"Everyone listen to me!" If we are to defend this, we better get to work. "I want you to work in teams and fetch trees. Branches even, if they are wide enough. Carve them into spears this big," I gesture the approximate height and diameter they should have. "We'll position them circling the town. Or a smaller section if we don't have enough." It's a rudimentary defense, but at least it will buy us some time. "We'll go meet the townspeople and inform them of our intentions."

The environment is tense, coldly silent. The streets are deserted, not a single soul is wandering around—it's a ghost town. No shops. No noises. But as we walk down the main street, I can see how some shutters open slightly to peek at us. Some doors close. Lights go off in an attempt to hide their presence. Everyone knows a storm is about to hit, and they are sheltered inside their houses.

We are not the enemy; they should know that much. We have come to help. Although I do get it. They must be terrified. Only death awaits, and the city has abandoned them to their own luck. I would also be afraid. Maybe I'd even think we are looters. Bandits or mercenaries that want to take advantage of the situation and make a profit. Hell, if I were them, I'd also ignore me.

The street takes us to a square with a fountain in the middle. Nothing fancy, but clearly distinguished from the other buildings. Here, everything is made of a greyish stone, probably white originally but worn out by time. I suppose we are near the town hall, there's no other reason for the change in appearances.

My suspicions seem somewhat confirmed when a well-dressed woman accompanied by an equally beautifully dressed man exits from one of the buildings. Their bodies are covered with a bizarre blazer, reminiscent of a suit on its front but sporting the long tail characteristic of coats on the back.

"You must be Mark! We were awaiting you!" The woman, walking slightly in front of the man, forces me to stop analyzing their clothes

"I'm sorry? Do we know each other?"

"Certainly not. But, we were told, multiple times and by multiple people actually, that your group would come." Her emphasis on the word multiple shows some hints of anger and annoyance.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, although we were not expecting you would bring so much manpower with you." Her eyes go blank for a brief moment while she gestures with her hands, pointing to our self-proclaimed army.

"They are all adventurers willing to help and defend the town." The conversation, and particularly her attitude, is going far from well. Still, I force myself to keep my comp-

"About that, please go back. Don't waste your time here."

"What!?" No, I can't refrain myself. Are they stupid? "You are telling us to let you all die?"

"We are doomed; there is nothing you can do about it." She shrugs with resignation, accepting the town's end as if it was destiny.

"Why don't you take shelter in other towns? Even in the middle of the forest. Wherever!" My voice, I just notice, has risen by an octave. I'm standing on my toes, and I realize my posture is threatening.

"Shelter? We have our lives here. If there is no town to return to, we might as well die here with it. Those who wanted to flee already did."

"What the fuck?" I can not repress it anymore. "If you want to die, then do so. But we will not watch while they kill you. Not until we have poured our last drop of blood."

"Adventures are so stubborn… you would never understand what this town means to us…" Her voice takes a turn and becomes condescending, like a mother teaching an obvious lesson to her one-year-old baby who just did something stupid.

"I understand that it shouldn't be more valuable than your own life!"

"What she is trying to say," the man interjects, hopefully, to deescalate the situation, "is that we don't want to be a burden. The governor chose to forsake us, knowing that nothing could be done. And any resource spent here would be lost." He coughs, perhaps ashamed of their own stupidity. "We will hide in our basements, wardrobes, anywhere, and hope they won't find us."

"That's stupid! Run to the forest, we will def-."

"Whatever!" The woman says, scoffs at us, and leaves. The man, unsettled by her behavior, shrugs his shoulders and follows behind her.

We converse among us, pointing out how desperate the situation is and how much more so they are making it. How fucking blind one must be to die here. A town can be rebuilt. Their lives can't. If there is a town after the war, they can return. Hiding in plain sight and hoping they will go unnoticed is… lame. Seeing that the conversation is not likely to progress any further, all of us except Lillia also leave the square and return to the outskirts.

She wants to further discuss the situation, too see if she can convince them otherwise. I can't blame her, although I doubt she'll change that bitch's mind.

The efforts of all our thousand people can already be seen. Trees are chopped, halved two times both in height and width, and then made into spears. Some other groups are taking care of placing them at 45-degree angles to the ground, pointing east of the town. The direction we think, or hope, they will come from.

"Do you think we can completely surround it?" I ask Dorian.

"No. There is no way we will have time and resources for that."

Yeah… I thought so. "Please, some of you make a complete defensive circle in the square in the middle of the town. That will be our last standing. Spread the word." I raise my voice a little, so the nearest group in charge of placing the spears hears me.

"At least this way, we'll have somewhere to retreat to if things take the worst turn. When, not if." I mutter the last half primarily for myself.

"We can use the houses over there-" he points with his finger to a group of houses at an intersection. "- for cover. We should be safe from arrows, and magic won't hit us unless they are right next to us."

"Yeah, it's a good spot. Do you see the bell tower of the hall? I'd like to meet there once it starts. Can you tell the others?" I'm not clear on where they are. It is hardly possible to tell them apart among all this multitude. Dorian will have an easier time than me. Of course, I could just send them a message, but I think everybody here needs to be occupied, Dorian included, to avoid overthinking the situation.

Soon enough, people start building the inner circle, which I supervise. I mean, there is not much to do, but it seems my presence works as a moral and productivity boost. It's already noon, but the sun is already setting. Maybe in three hours, four tops, it will get dark.

They will attack when there is no light, right? It's obvious. I definitely would. They can see in the dark; we can't. They have magic affined to darkness; we don't. It's all advantages for them.

I don't think electricity is a thing here, right? A quick look upwards and to the sides of the street confirms that no such thing exists. Although I can see some lamps here and there, probably oil lamps. We must make sure they are lit. Maybe…

"Hey, can you build a huge bonfire? Right in the middle of the fountain. We will set it on fire as soon as they attack."

"Ah, sure, consider it done!" One of the women working here immediately replies.

"And please, some small ones around the town would also be helpful."

"Sure, sure! Just leave it to us!"

It is strange to have this authority with people I have just met. I am asking them to die for a lost cause. Even if we will get another life after that, it's a lot to ask for. But I know, they know, that our losses are not really significant. Much less at this stage of the game, where a level can be gained in an hour or even less. The lives of the people living here, however, won't run the same luck.

I spend the next three hours running from place to place. Talking with the locals and trying to convince them to go. Organizing our defenses. Making sure all the bonfires are in place—lightning up all the lamps. And even pep-talking some groups.

And, as the sun fades, a wave of turmoil comes with it. In the distance, a racket can be heard. As time passes, the symmetry and harmony in the noise become evident. It is not noise but the sound of steps. Military steps executed almost to perfection.

This is not a bunch of wild rats and mice. It is not the disorganized enemies we fought against in the mines. They are an army. And, by the sounds of it, an enormous one.

"Everyone, get ready! Light the bonfires!"

I don't know how much time we have. The sound is quickly approaching, but I can't see them yet. I start running to the bell tower, our tiny vantage point, to take a look at our enemies. I haven't asked for permission. I and I won't. If they want to die, having their city hall forced open is the least of their problems.

I quickly walk through the seemingly infinite steps and reach the top. Without even needing to take a look outside, just by looking at the faces of my friends, I know it.

"We are doomed. Aren't we?"