Fire and smoke raged across the red horizon, reaching up into the sky and blocking out the sun. Massive tracts of the city were either burning or in ruins, leaving nothing but empty shells of buildings in their wake.
"Oh, God." Jack whispered. The city as a whole was simply massive, stretching from one end of the horizon to the other, starting with a series of large farms and working its way up to multi story towers at the distant city center, which seemed to be safe from the fire for the time being.
Two massive rivers trisected the city, coming down as one from the mountains and splitting a few miles from the city. They formed effective firebreaks, and Jack could see the thousands of little shapes desperately crossing the river in the far distance. Jack couldn't see much else past the fire and smoke, but from what he had gleaned from the map the rivers eventually drained to the sea in a few dozen miles, forming a large swamp.
A massive camp seemed to be set up in and around the section of the city closest to them, filled with a million teeming little ant-like figures. Hundreds of banners flew from different sections of the camp, and distant trumpet calls could be heard.
"Good God, we've stumbled on a war." Sam observed. Jack nodded, and continued examining the stricken city. Shockingly, a massive airship seemed to be hovering over the city, giving the entire picture a vaguely steampunk feel.
"Come on, let's go." Jack started down the hill towards the burning city.
"Wait, where are you going? You can't be serious!" Sam shouted at him.
"What, you have any other ideas? Come on!" Jack shouted back.
Sam grumbled and followed, knowing this would be a bad idea.
The army camp was filthy and squalid, with human waste everywhere and the smell of rotting meat and the burning city constantly filling Jack's nostrils, forcing him to gag. At least he didn't have it as bad as Sam, who had to hold a cloth against her snout.
All around them were people of various shapes, sizes, and ages. Most of them were humans, but there was the occasional fantastic creature, such as the centaur with three legs hobbling next to the half dead minotaur. The only thing that everyone had in common was the bleak, dreary look of the completely and utterly spent.
Suddenly, a man dressed in a bloodied and battered uniform cam running up to them, babbling in an incomprehensible dialect. As he listened, Jack realized he could make out some of the words he was saying, like hearing a language learned long ago. Listening carefully, he managed to work out all of what he was saying.
"Please come with me!" The man begged. "We need everyone who can still fight to plug the breech!"
"Wait, what's going on?" Jack asked, using the same language. He was somewhat disturbed that he was listening and speaking an entirely new language, but he could deal with that later.
"There's an attack all across our northern flank. We can't hold them, but we need more time to get the refugees out of the city. We just need a bit more time!" The man breathed. He was obviously badly wounded, and was clutching his side.
"Alright. We'll follow you." Jack replied. Sam looked at him questioningly, but Jack ignored her.
"Thank you!" The soldier said, and began to lead them through the vast camp. As they grew closer to the battleground, Jack noticed the wounded growing larger in number, and the screams and shouts in the distance were getting closer.
Suddenly, they were there. An impromptu barricade had been formed in the middle of a street, made up of dead horses and overturned carts. Over a hundred men were packed into the wide street, flanked by multi story buildings on each side. Most of them had stone walls in place, each of which now covered dozens of men.
In front of them, hundreds of crossbowmen and swordsmen were advancing, firing as they went along. Without a word, the soldier that had lead them there fell, an arrow embedded in his throat.
"Shit! Get down!" A young soldier shouted, and Jack instantly jumped behind a ruined wagon. Sam also took cover farther back, barely missing a stream of arrows.
"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Jack shouted. Popping up, he fired into the advancing crowd, and ducked down an instant later when a crossbow bolt slammed into the broken oak.
The entire line fired as fast as they could, but to no avail. The advancing enemy simply kept coming and coming, using their crossbows to fire and maneuver. The defending rabble, consisting of young conscripts and wounded veterans were handily outmatched.
One by one, they started to retreat, simply dropping their weapons and running. Jack could hardly blame the tired boys, but something deep within him stirred.
"COME ON YOU BASTARDS, YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER?" Jack roared, and hurled himself over the makeshift barricade towards the advancing horde only a few yards away. Lifting his Winchester in one hand and his saber in the other, he charged, roaring madly.
Somehow, that did it. The line behind him collapsed into a ravaged mob. Rather then run from the battle, however, they surged forward, meeting the inevitable doom.
Jack's saber cut deep into a startled crossbowman as he fired into the onrushing crowd. Working the action one handed, he ducked beneath a poorly aimed claymore slash and quickly stabbed his attacker in the stomach.
The entire line swarmed around him, all hoping to end his brief bout of insanity. Jack tackled the closest man, sending him into the dirt while simultaneously blocking a slash with his raised saber. Rolling into the dirt, he fired his Winchester again, punching through the iron breastplate of the line's obvious commander.
The attackers suddenly found themselves overwhelmed with similar berserkers, men who knew that this would be their final moment of life and glory. At the center of it was Sam, her twin blades a streak of crimson as she slashed through soldier after soldier. In amazement, Jack watched her tear the throat out of an onrushing attacker with her teeth, grimly spitting out the flesh at the next, terrified attacker, who chose to drop his weapon and run. Dozens of the defenders were cut down, but the attack went on, managing to rout the attacking brigade.
Rising to his feet, Jack lifted his sword into the air. "CHARGE!"
That did it. Instead of the weak defending line breaking under the unrelenting pressure, the attackers instead began to retreat. Their crossbows useless in a close fight, and their swords too few in number to make a real difference, they fled, closely pursued by the bloody, triumphant defenders.
Jack lead the charge, dashing to the front and spurring them on. In short order, the attackers were finished as a fighting force, those not dead or wounded taking the opportunity to flee the battle.
"Stop!" Jack shouted, waving his sword in the air. The mob slowly ground to a halt, confused.
"Alright, listen!" Jack shouted, climbing on top of a nearby wall. "They're going to counterattack soon, and they're going to come hard and fast. Gather up all the supplies they dropped, and squad leaders report to me. I've got a plan."
