Joroboros
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[YF] Chapter 235: Fjord
🕑 Added 2024-10-08 10:44:56 +0000 UTCThe Jarlship fort is unmistakable, even from kilometres beyond the fjord it sits within. A massive wall of stone stretches across the sheer-cliffs, with many other fortifications carved into the rock. Directly below the wall, the cliffs taper into a river of rapids that flow into the fjord. If not for the speed of the water rushing out from a waterfall beneath the fort’s major structure, one might have been able to sail a fleet up the wide river.
From here, where Sylvan’s fleet sails toward the thousands of ships defending the fort, I can see hundreds of cannons inlaid through the cliffs themselves. I’ve seen ones this big only a few times defending other heqet ports, but never at this great quantity. Each is too large to fit on any of their longships, but can output a not insignificant amount of power.
Well, Sylvan wasn’t lying when he said Anoures didn’t want to lose this place. This is the strongest opposition we’ve faced. Unfortunately for them, cannonballs — regardless of how large — are ineffective against a firestorm.
The fact that the heqet can build such a vast complex goes to show that they are much more capable than their villages near the Mrtyuñ Coast make one believe. When they are forced to, their structures can be just as impressive as those of any northern nation. I understand this is one of their major strongholds, but they have the capability to build incredible feats… and yet they rarely bother.
The fort at the back of the fjord is bland, lacking any sort of flair beyond being flat stone carved from the cliff-faces themselves. It is practical, and only practical; like the builders took no pride in their job, and simply created such a tall wall out of necessity.
At the base of the fort, before the water flowing from the river grows too strong to row against, a series of wooden docks stretch out from a far more solid stone base. From that platform, a sloped path leads up the side of the fjord, over the river to the fort. It is the only visible way for the heqet to approach, and two separate gated ramparts defend it.
As impressive as this all is considering what I’ve seen of the heqet up till now, their stonework has nothing on the centzon. But comparing anyone to the engineers from beyond the Alps is simply unfair. They built such a fortress when they still seem limited to axes and basic villages.
Then again, my kind, the áed, are much the same. We don't rely on massive cities as the other races do. The land alone sustains us, and yet we have the Agglomerate. A mighty structure of our own. What's to say other races can't be the same? Regardless of how little effort said race puts into things besides war.
“Fire deity,” Sylvan says, causing me to wince. I thought I’d gotten him to stop referring to me as such. “Do not fly above the fjord cliffs. If those in the Jarlship fort see your flames, they well be incensed, and taking command will be far more difficult.”
I glance back at him, slightly annoyed at the request. Why are his kind so unreasonable? This would be so much simpler of a siege if I could just take out the head of the enemy armies myself. But the heqet refuse to accept defeat to any but their own. If I denied his request, this battle would go on far longer than necessary.
Not that his request would make my job all that much harder. I was to take on the enemy fleet alongside our gathered force. It’s what I would have done regardless, if nothing more than to stop the heqet of Sylvan’s navy from slaughtering every crew we passed. But Sylvan called the battle a distraction.
It is a surprise that Sylvan’s plan isn’t simply an outright battle — with only minimal reliance on my strength — but rather to circumvent the defences entirely with the help of Leal’s mage Markings and attack the fort from the rear. Though considering he was still the only one I could get a proper conversation out of, it probably shouldn’t have been all that unexpected.
I am… more than a little unnerved by leaving Leal alone with a crew of bloodthirsty heqet, but she’d been insistent that this was the best option. Another glance her way returned me a hard, determined stare. Of course she would be all for the plan that left the least dead.
She is a mage with far more capabilities in her arsenal than the average, so I know she’ll be fine, but it’s that slight danger she’s in that I do not share that makes me feel all the more responsible for her safety. Well, if anything, it gives me another reason to disable the fleet and climb that path with haste.
“Fine,” I say. “Now hurry on your way. Wouldn’t want me to beat you to the top, would you?” With my piece said, I leap overboard and fly toward the fleet waiting for us.
The cannons fire from the cliffs of the fjord, and a dozen ships at the head of our force explode into splinters to announce the beginning of battle. Jarl Anoures’ ships have not yet begun firing, despite floating far ahead of the ground-based cannons; a devastating example of their range.
As Sylvan’s longship slinks out the rear of his fleet, I spear forward, keeping myself close to the waters. The first dozen heading the engagement are large ships. All equal to Sylvan’s. I strike the forefront before they can comprehend what hits them. An explosion rocks their ship, and flames leap to the next few ships, setting them all alight.
The ship I strike first incinerates in an instant; unable to handle the heat of white flames. Those that come after give the heqet just enough time to leap into the waters rather than have the timber disappear beneath their feet. I waste no more than a second for each ship, flying to another whenever my fire already infects the vessel.
While the longships stationed here are, on average, far larger than usual, they are still as prone to burning as any other. They reduce to cinders until the ocean’s grasp takes them, and I pull myself away before the waters can touch me.
Heqet already flail in the waters with their axes in their grip. Amongst them, some move with an ease that reveals their enhancement. Their axes slice into the water and spring them along until they reach another ship and rejoin the fight with their brethren. They have little capability of reaching me in the sky — even if I am flying low — but that doesn’t stop them throwing their axes with varying degrees of accuracy. Those that hit my bird form, are witness to their weapons melting to nothing but sludge before I burn through it all.
The more enhanced of the lot are, unfortunately for them, the only ones I burn without reservation. Even Leal understands the need to remove the enemy military assets that could cause untold damage to the unenhanced. It is simply a bonus to me that they are both slavers and fill my flames with the fuel of their enhancement.
I zigzag across their navy, incinerating ship by ship. Behind me, Sylvan's fleet rushes to catch up. Many of their warriors taking oar to row faster than their sails can push. They want to have a part of this battle, but I can’t have that. They’ll have the scraps, or nothing. I’ve noticed they’ve grown increasingly agitated at my efforts, and if not for Sylvan, I am sure they would have attacked by now.
Then again, if it was not for Sylvan, they would have attacked me from the start.
They despise their war being taken away from them. Sylvan has constantly requested that I allow his men to fight more. And I gave them an opportunity. Multiple times even. But on each occasion, the bloodshed was immense, like they were making up for lost time. They lost that privilege quickly.
With more ships that we can count crossing half the distance to the horizon, it's hard to imagine how the heqet can resupply themselves, but they do. To let them fight amongst themselves, while probably completely natural for them, frustrates and distresses Leal, so I do not allow it.
It might not be all that reliable to have the entirety of my determination relying on what somebody else wants, but if it was up to me, their entire armies would be dead. And I know it's wrong. I do. But whether it’s the lingering changes of the Void Fog still affecting my desires, or my natural thoughts, the idea of an entire nation of slavers is something I despise with great intensity. So if I allow myself to settle with my opinions on this, many would die.
And that would almost certainly harm my relations with those I consider friends. Especially if any of the heqet ever becomes one. Though, if Sylvan is the more open-minded of his race, that might not actually be a problem.
Sylvan’s ships finally engage the few smaller ships I missed, showing no restraint from boarding and slaughtering their enemies. While they do that, the large cannons set into the side of the fjord cliffs continue their rain of cannonballs over the approaching fleet. The balls of iron and stone soar over the masts of the defenders and shatter the susceptible hulls of the attackers.
There are still so many ships I need to burn down, and unless I unleash a firestorm without caring to limit deaths, I won’t be able to dismantle the navy before Sylvan’s ships sustain too many losses from the cannons. So, despite knowing I’ll be leaving the fleets to strike at each other — and finally get the battle they’ve been wanting — I beeline to the closest cliff.
No ships remain unscorched in my path, and I quickly slam into the wall and spread my burning body all across the stone face. My flames roar as they rush into every entrance, melting steel and rock until none of the weapons remain. When I dive off the cliff wall and fly for the other side of the Fjord, I notice the cliff now runs with molten stone.
Unfortunately for the heqet inside the numerous insets, they weren’t all that great at surviving the suddenly super-heated stone around themselves. Their feet burned and the radiating heat around them cooked at their mucus coating. I’d tried to do the same as with the ships by stopping them from burning while I incinerated their surroundings, but stone holds in a lot more heat than wood, and I’m not all that inclined to take the time to remove it all. I still have another side to burn, after all.
After wiping out the last of the cannon emplacements, I return to the battle in the waters. The sides have intermingled to such an extent that I cannot tell which side is which. Actually, I don’t think those in the battle know who is friend and foe. They seem to know which direction to sail, but that doesn’t stop them sinking ships that are probably on their own side.
Instead of dealing with that nightmare of a conflict, I strike at the rear of the fleet. Many of which appear already greatly damaged. My first thought is that they keep the ships that need repairs to the rear, and only use them in emergencies. But that theory quickly gets thrown out when I watch one ship fire a cannon at their neighbour’s rudder so that they can pull out ahead. The particular heqet to have fired on an allied vessel is thrown overboard, but the ship still scrapes its way forward, trying to reach the front.
I should be surprised. But all I feel is hopelessness for the heqet race.
