Baldric took only a moment to assess the situation. “Have your elves erect walls of shields along either side of where the bridges will land,” he said. “We will cut down any who land in the crossfire.”
The walls of shields were erected none too soon. With a great cry, the gnomes and goblins began streaming off and across the bridges. They were met with a hail of fire-arrows. Within moments, the ground was covered with bodies, but still they came by the thousands.
They began to hold ground, returning the elves’ fire through upraised shields.
“This is no good,” shouted Baldric. “They are soon going to mount a charge.” He sent for Hamron, who returned leading his dwarves. After a few quick instructions, Hamron organised his dwarves. Within moments, the air was filled with blazing arrows. Enraged, the enemy charged, in madness or desperation. The first assault was cut down, barely. In the meantime, many more had crossed the river, and were immediately entrenched behind shields. With a pang of fear, Baldric realised that the enemies’ efforts were becoming increasingly dangerous and well co-ordinated. This last group moved like professional soldiers.
Suddenly, a hail of arrows began to fall from higher ground onto both the bridges and the entrenched enemy. Jonden’s men were firing simultaneous volleys from the top of the riverbank, high into the air, and falling with deadly force amongst the enemy.