Call of the Abyss [Book 2 Complete]

Julia floated languidly, like a puff of cloud high in the sky. She'd spent the last few days surveying the blockade, as Seyatha had instructed. She'd discovered that there were six "hotspots," as she'd started labeling them. These were spots in the blockade where the Nashiin concentration was exceptionally heavy and active.

She'd relayed this information to Seyatha, but she couldn't just return to Veshari to speculate about what this meant—they needed more information. She'd managed to convince Seyatha to allow a scouting mission into one of these hotspots—with the condition of utmost caution, of course.

Thus, Julia had decided to be as cautious as she thought possible. This is why she was so high up, among the clouds. Her Spiritual Sight was an improvement over even Truesight, so she wasn't worried about being able to see what was happening on the ground. She mostly needed actionable information, after all—troop concentrations, types of troops, their total numbers, etc.

She didn't need to see every crack in their skulls at this particular moment.

She'd gone for full invisibility this time, as well as dispersing her body to the absolute maximum. Even with a powerful sense for mana, she should be functionally unnoticeable. Someone would have to look up, first—which was a pretty high bar, thinking about how often she looked up at the sky in her daily life.

Second, she was so high up—her presence so dispersed and thin—that even in the unlikely event she were noticed, the observer would likely assume her a random wisp of mana.

Those happened all the time—mana would mix on the ground and get sucked into the sky by swirling air mana. Anyone with a sense for mana powerful enough to spy her from the ground would likely be aware of this phenomenon and write her mana signature off. Ironically, the more knowledgeable her enemies in this regard, the more camouflaged she became.

She floated and watched, becoming increasingly bored, but not giving in to the temptation to daydream. She wished Trixy were with her, but she'd left her a ways into the marsh for safety's sake. Not that Julia would be able to pet her even if she were here, dispersed into a mist as she was.

The most boring part was that the undead she observed were still as statues. She could tell from their outlines that they were active and alert—standing in a ready stance to lunge at any perceived threat—but undead required none of the things the living did. They didn't dig latrines, they didn't set up tents and shelter, they didn't make idle conversation—they didn't even have rotating guard shifts.

They just stood, alert and watchful.

It was eerie and uncomfortable—more than the undead usually were. When they moved and fought, it looked similarly to living beings. Standing there still as statues, though—that was strange. It reinforced their otherness.

It was as she suspected, though. These camps were concentrations of their more powerful forces. The perimeter was created by thousands of skeletal soldiers holding pikes at the ready, while just behind that perimeter, a second row of pikemen waited with theirs resting against their shoulders—ready and waiting.

Inside the second ring was a thinner ring of skeletal archers, bows in hand, but not drawn. That row was thinner, but only because the archers weren't enough to completely enclose the entirety of the camp. They were—perhaps—a couple thousand.

Hidden among the three rings of troops—though not from Julia's Sight—were Ghûls. They lay on their bellies under the water, positioned as though to crawl. The water here was only about waist-high on the regular skeletons, but the crouched Ghûls were completely hidden beneath it.

Interspersed throughout the central enclosure that the ringed troops encircled were various types of Revenants. Or, maybe "types" wasn't the right word. They were all Revenants, but they carried different weapons. Some had spears, some had swords, and others had bows or crossbows. They seemed shock troops set to fill in the perimeter wherever they were needed.

In the exact center of the camp stood a motionless Barrowlord, enormous sword thrust into the ground, palms together and resting atop the pommel. It was surrounded by better equipped Revenants—fifteen of them, by Julia's count. All had chainmail and helmets, and some even had a pauldron or a plate here or there. Their equipment was a hodgepodge, but it was far superior to the rank and file.

They created a tight circle of five around the Barrowlord, while ten others created a larger circle around them. This was the escort Julia expected when she encountered the Barrowlords in the settlement. The size of this Revenant escort was what made its absence so noticeable.

Julia's attention was drawn to the center of the camp, where a great force punched through space. It looked as though the air became a mirror and shattered violently, but rather than the pieces flying away, they stayed connected and expanded outward—like punching a finger through a piece of paper.

Out of the gash in reality stepped three Barrowlords, swords held against their shoulders. It seemed both a ceremonial procession as well as a functional one—Julia didn't doubt for a second that those huge blades could be brought to bear in an instant if required. They filtered out and stood in a triangle formation around the tear in space, ready and resembling an "at attention" stance.

Next out of the portal was a titan whose like she hadn't seen before. It stood a head taller even than the Barrowlords, and it seemed to wear a dread aura like a cape. The great, billowing purple mana flowed over its shoulders and down past its waist.

It appeared similar to Barrowlords—a suit of living armor—but its construction was completely different. There were pinions protruding from its helmet, the shape looking as if a great helm wore a crown of blades.

The bulky cuirass was flanked by huge spikes that curved off the back of the pauldrons and up over its shoulders, the curved tips of the spikes level with its ears—or where ears would be if it were human.

The great gauntlets had spikes that extruded from the fingers, following the joints where the gauntlets' fingers would bend. Its boots had a spike on the toes the size of a dagger, while a shorter spike the length of a small knife stabbed out from the heel.

The armor was black as night, as though absorbing the light from the surroundings. Julia couldn't see the armor clearly enough from this distance to know if it was enchanted, or even decorated, but she was positive it wasn't a normal piece of colored steel.

On its back was a twin-blade so large, most would think it a spear. Made of the same black-as-night metal, it had a large grip in the middle that took about a third of the length of the weapon, while the thirds on either side of the grip were double-edged blades that tapered to a point at their ends.

It seemed a blade that would be incredibly difficult to wield effectively. The armored giant didn't give a sense of Dexterity, but the weapon would undoubtedly require as much Dexterity as Strength to wield. That much metal could not be light, no matter how well-made.

As the giant stepped fully through the portal, the Barrowlord and its guards seemed to come to life. It turned, pounded its fists against its sides, and bowed a full 90 degrees, the Revenants following suit. The rest of the camp remained unmoved, ever watchful of their surroundings.

The giant stopped a few steps beyond the portal and turned to its side. The air rumbled, and Julia assumed it had just spoken, but she was too far to hear any of it. That she could see the air vibrating like from a tremendous heat did not ease her growing fear of the giant's power.

Out of the portal floated a husk of what used to be a person—one that she was familiar with. The desiccated corpse that had once been on the verge of burning her in purple flames as casually as one tosses a log in a fire, floated gracefully into the clearing.

"Wight," she suddenly thought. Her Spiritual Sight seemed to recognize its form, even if her conscious mind didn't.

It looked much the same as when last she'd seen it, but with her Spiritual Sight, she now saw the full scale of its horror. A titanic mass of purple mana swirled around it, as though it were the nexus of some torrential mana storm.

Perhaps the most terrifying thing was how active the mana was. It seemed to wash over any entity near the Wight, deciding whether they were friend or foe without the Wight's conscious assessment. Any entity given the grace of continued existence was left shuddering as the mana receded from it, save for the black-armored titan.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The air shuddered around the titan and the Wight as they conversed, both motioning toward the center of the marsh. After no more than a couple minutes of conversation, the Wight—followed by the titan—entered the portal once again. The three Barrowlord escorts then backed in after them, swords at the ready to intercept any that would attempt to strike while their masters' backs were turned.

When they were through, the portal collapsed on itself with a shockwave like a lightning strike. Space snapped back into its desired arrangement, and not a trace of their passing remained. The Barrowlord and its escort returned to their stationary vigil, and all went quiet and still in the swamp.

Julia floated slowly away toward the marsh. She had to report this interaction.

"So, the likely leaders of the invasion are not stationed nearby…" Seyatha mused, drumming her fingers on the table.

Julia sat at an ovular table in a conference room similar to the one she'd been led to on her first visit to Tirn'Aleya. Sat around the table were Seyatha and several senior members of the Zal'Nadir, including Ithshar.

Julia felt honored to be present, but she was also comforted by the fact that not only did no one question her presence, they didn't even act as though it were unusual.

"If we use this information to extrapolate numbers, we can get a rough estimate for the total force the Nashiin are bringing to bear," Ithshar said, provoking several nods around the table.

"Did you get a specific count, Julia?" Seyatha asked.

"Not a specific count, no—I can estimate," she clarified and continued at Seyatha's nod, "Four or five thousand in the infantry, two thousand archers, around a thousand Ghûls, and perhaps as many Revenants. Plus the single Barrowlord and his fifteen elite Revenant guards.

"Eight to ten thousand total troops, with one commander and fifteen honor guards. Six camps, as far as I can tell, so the upper estimate would be sixty thousand total troops, with six commanding Barrowlords, and a total honor guard of ninety elite Revenants.

"This is not including the troops dispersed to guard the border between the camps; if we include those numbers, we could be looking at over a hundred thousand, easily. Maybe even two or three hundred thousand—I have no idea what kind of numbers are required to encircle the marsh in its entirety."

Faces grew grim at the count. Julia understood why—this wasn't even considering the might of the actual leaders, nor whatever else they could bring through those portals.

The silence began to stretch on, no one seeming keen to break it.

"Is there…sorry, I don't know the full situation, but is there no one we could send word to—request reinforcements?" Julia asked.

"We sent a few runners to Vazreth several months ago, before the Nashiin threat evolved into a full-on siege. They never returned, nor did any word come back to us. That is the only city we have had extended contact with. The nearest besides is a thousand journeys away, at minimum.

"Even still, we sent out runners many months ago. We think the runners for Vazreth dead. However, because of the distance between here and any other cities, it is unknown whether the other runners are alive and the distance is simply inhibiting contact, or if they also perished," Seyatha explained sadly.

The room was silent, everyone contemplating the conundrum. Eventually, when no ideas were put forth, Julia spoke up again.

"Forgive me for saying something that might seem obvious, but things can't keep going as they have," Julia said.

Faces all turned to her, though none in anger, knowing she had more to say.

"Everything I've read about sieges had to do with cities being besieged, but the principle here is the same, I believe. The purpose of a siege is to whittle resources down until, when the gate is breached, only a token, emaciated resistance remains.

"They are trying to starve us out, and thin our numbers until they can take the marsh with very little force. They are going for an overwhelming victory. We cannot play into their hands," Julia explained sternly.

"You have an idea, Julia?" Ithshar said. Eyes turned to her with a new light in them—the light of hope.

"I do, but I don't think anyone will like it—and the Assembly certainly won't," she said.

"Ha, then we are sure to!" a man said from the other end of the table.

A subdued chuckle went around. The Zal'Nadir were an organization of action. They disliked the Assembly's attitude of waiting and seeing.

"There's an expression: 'cut the head off a snake, and the body will fall.' This isn't always applicable, but I believe it is with the Nashiin. I spent time out in the swamp fighting them when none of the Barrowlords or Revenants or even Ghûls were present.

"The skeletons were stupid, to put it bluntly. They didn't have much function beyond striking at something that crossed their path, and they wouldn't pursue me if I ran.

"If we can draw the leaders of this campaign out—especially the ones hiding in their portals—we could cripple the remaining undead force by eliminating them. We thin them from the top-down. First, the leaders, then the Barrowlords, and finally, the Revenants. I believe by that point, the rest will fall easily," Julia finished.

"A solid plan—in theory—but how would we put it into practice? What possible provocation could we use to lure the two leaders out of their portals?" a woman near Ithshar questioned.

"Yes, that's…the part that's going to be unpopular. I suggest we don't attempt to draw the leaders out by themselves. They will undoubtedly be present in an attack on the city anyway.

"My suggestion is to bait them into attacking Veshari," Julia said with false bravado. She knew it was a huge ask already—it wouldn't do to seem unconfident in its validity.

The silence around the table was deafening for her. She had to resist the urge to tap her fingers or foot—to do something to fill the silence. She felt like she was sitting at the table waiting for her parents to decide her punishment.

"Can you elaborate, Julia? Many of us are confused about things implied in that suggestion," Seyatha said, giving Julia the floor once again.

"Yes, thank you. I would suggest pulling all residents of the marsh—all that remain—here, into Veshari, and then locking the city down. I've heard whisperings of a 'wall' that can be brought up around the city. Surely there are other, similar defences?

"Harden those defenses, and prepare them for use. Then—when all the civilians are safely contained and defended—send out strike parties to ambush the six camps. The goal will be to destroy the Barrowlords and their retinue, but any damage will be considered a success.

"When the leaders discover what happened, no matter how much damage we manage to inflict, they will see that we are retaliating against them. However, upon further investigation, they will discover that we have retreated fully into the confines of Veshari.

"I don't know what will happen at this point, admittedly. My hope is that they will view this as a sign of desperation and weakness. They will see us hunkered down and trying to strategically strike their fortifications.

"Hopefully, they decide the time is right to launch their final, all-out assault on the city—based on that perceived weakness," Julia explained, taking a deep breath afterward. She'd barely breathed that whole time—not that she needed to, but still.

"I see the logic in your plan, but it still does not explain why we would be better off baiting their all-out assault. Yes, it would likely draw their leaders out, but would it not hasten our own destruction?

"It seems that, rather than a plan to give us an advantage, this is a plan to hasten the conclusion of the conflict—which is currently heavily weighted against us," a man close to Julia's right commented.

Murmurings of agreement were heard around the table.

"Indeed, that's the point—to hasten the conclusion of this siege," Julia said confidently.

Eyes shifted once again—Julia was becoming accustomed to it, at this point.

"This might be easier for me to see due to being a newcomer, but—and I'm sorry to say it this way—we're losing. We're losing badly," Julia said seriously.

The heavy, thick silence of impending doom returned to the group at her words.

"As I said, the purpose of a siege is to gradually weaken the resistance until there's none left. In the books I've read covering historical sieges, there were even instances where civilians rioted mid-siege.

"They opened the gates to the city and let the attackers in willingly because the city's management changing hands couldn't be as bad as watching their children slowly starve to death," she explained gently.

Solemn nods went around the table. No one wanted to say it out loud, but they understood the logic and emotion behind such a decision.

"Just this week, the Nashiin attacked three towns responsible for pillars of the Jadhariin's self-sustainability. Rationing hasn't started yet—but how close do you think it is, now that the major suppliers of rice, fish, and ghamhûr have been wiped out?

"They are escalating the siege, but they are not going to launch an assault until victory is assured. They are going. To starve. Everyone," Julia said, punctuating her words with force for impact.

"That being the case—and unless anyone else has some miracle plan to give us an advantage—we have to accept that the longer the siege lasts, the worse our odds become. We need them to attack now, while we're at least still hale and healthy.

"Yes, the odds are against us, but there is still a chance right now. If we goad them into attacking us, victory is a small hope. If we wait until they're ready to attack us, all hope is lost," Julia concluded.

She examined the faces around her one-by-one before sitting back down and folding her arms.

If nothing else, that was something she was certain of. The longer the siege lasted, the more likely their doom. If there were going to be some miraculous circumstances that could help them achieve an unlikely victory, they would only come while the elves were healthy enough to grasp them.