The sound of splintering wood snapped him back to the present. A crack had appeared in the great gate, and through it, he could see the writhing mass of corrupted flesh pressing forward.
"Now!" he roared. "Light them up!"
Flaming arrows and pots of burning oil rained down on the creatures at the gate. The effect was instantaneous and horrifying. The twisted beings ignited like dry tinder, their unearthly screams rising to a fever pitch as they burned. Yet even as they were consumed by flames, many continued to claw at the gates, their single-minded purpose undiminished by their immolation.
As he watched this hellish scene unfold, Idoyope realized with grim certainty that this battle was merely the beginning. Whatever force had created these abominations, whatever dark purpose drove them, it was clear that the enclave—and perhaps all of the kingdom—faced a threat unlike any in living memory.
