The wall was chaos. Ladders clattered against the stone work, already packed with howling fanatics. The militia and their mercenary allies took a fearsome toll with bows, stones, and boiling oil but they came on like the tide going gladly to their deaths to claw another few inches. Here and there, they drove back the defenders, forming beach heads through which hundreds of men, some literally frothing at the mouth, could surge. The lead ranks threw themselves onto the blades of the defenders, glad to foul the weapon long enough for their compatriots to strike. The stink of blood, burning flesh, and unwashed bodies was intense. Bianca reached the Company command post just as they hurled back a wave of fanatics. The tower had become a microcosm of the siege with the Silver Swords defending both entrances with sword and shield while archers poured a withering fire down from above.
“Captain!” Bianca shouted as the shields opened to let her through. The old soldier had a bloodied sword in his hand, though he was shouting orders to all and sundry rather than participating in the fight.


“We are pulling out Bee!” the Captain boomed, “your men are already guarding the aqueduct?” 


“Yes sir, what about the cavalry and the dwarves?” she demanded. It took the Captain a moment to bring his mind to Torm’s sally amid so many other demands on his attention.

“Too much smoke to know,” he replied, “Take command of the lower Tower, its going to be the Black One’s own pain in the ass to get everyone out of here as it is.” Bianca peered out through the narrow arched loophole in the direction of the dwarven pyre. As the Captain had said there was nothing to see save for a vast curtain of smoke. As she watched she saw lightning begin to flash in the great pall. Black Ryann must be calling rain to do what he could, a dangerous action, though hopefully any enemy wizards would be too busy with their assaults to notice.
“Move it!” the Captain shouted, giving her a shove towards the stairs. Bianca stumbled down the curving stone stairwell, furiously reloading her pistols as she went. At the bottom thirty men stood in a rough semicircle around the door, there were a few bodies in it, but it didn’t look like there had been heavy fighting.


“Hessel, Graves,” Bianca shouted, calling out the two file leaders she saw, “move out and form a corridor to the houses, double file, second man covering the first from above.” Relief shone in both men’s eyes at decisive commands to follow. They were veterans, but they wanted a task to accomplish. Bianca stepped out into the open. There were dozens of men along the base of the wall. Many were dead, others had been pushed off in the fighting and suffered broken legs or worse. An arrow hissed passed her and she ducked back beneath the shields of the emerging soldiers. Enough of the enemy had made the top of the wall that they could shoot down at the retreating mercs, though most were too busy trying to widen their breaches to bother. Bianca’s men formed a corridor between the tower exit and one of the deserted streets.

“Captain!” she shouted upwards but the old man was already leading his men through the corridor and into the relative safety of the street. She heard the sharp crack of grenadeos as the last soldiers covered their retreat, emerging from the tower at a run.

“Close up!” Bianca yelled and her reaguard swung away from the tower to secure their flanks with the street. Fanatics poured from the tower, many of them blinded from the grenadeos. One man’s hair was on fire, his eyebrows burned away, but still he swung his two handed axe in a great overhand blow. One of the company caught the blow with the metal edge of his shield and thrust into the fanatics belly, kicking him back into his fellows with brutal efficiency. The disorganized rush hit the shield wall like rain on a boulder, fanatics screamed and died on the swords of the company as they retreated foot by foot down the street.

“Grenadeos!” Bianca shouted and a dozen of the black metal spheres flew over her head and into the mouth of the tower, landing among the packed fanatics trying to claw their way out. There were a series of crackling booms and and great gouts of black smoke as the bombs did their deadly work. The pressure on the shieldwall fell immediately.

“Back, double time, keep your shields up!” Bianca ordered as the company beat an orderly retreat deeper into the city. She hoped the other contingents were having as much luck.