The heavy ringing in the air died down after a few seconds. Morgan hopped down into the courtyard below as people emerged, shrugging on clothes and armor. Katherine was one of the first, still wiping the sides of her bleary eyes.

  “What does the alarm mean?” Morgan asked.

  “Large group coming in, most likely from the city,” she responded, motioning him to follow her as she walked to the sector entrance where the group of ten was gathering. Katherine talked quickly to a man standing in the group, and then they all set off. As they walked, Katherine explained to Morgan, “The tone of this bell was to call in the assigned forces for the night. It happens every two or three nights. Happened last night, so I thought I would be lucky tonight… Tosh to that,” she chuckled.

  The group walked toward the main entrance to the citadel and joined a slowly growing stream of people making their way to the gates. Once they arrived, Morgan could see about 200 people squeezing into the square courtyard, talking in a quiet roar to each other. At the far side of the courtyard, a raised platform held an older man and a young girl who were talking. They stopped talking, then the man turned and banged a drum three times, its low soft sound rippling through the crowd, causing the conversations to stop.

  The young girl stood at the front of the platform, opening her mouth. Instead of her voice the words that came from her mouth were a deep, raspy baritone. It sounded as if the man was standing right next to Morgan.

  “Scouts have detected a large group, less than one hundred heading from the city. They should arrive here in about… fifteen minutes. Once your sector has reported in, gather under your role banner to receive specific instructions. First group steps off in five minutes.”

  Large banners were hung along the walls. Morgan hadn’t noticed them at first. The groups started to split and trail off to cluster under the banners. The banners were a shield, a sword, a bow, a flame, and a red cross.

  “Defenders, attackers, ranged, magic, and healers,” Katherine said, pointing to each banner. “I recommend you watch from the walls. There are formations and maneuvers that you haven't trained in yet.” She stopped, took a deep breath, and finished, “I, for one, will feel safer with you watching over us. If things get crazy, help us out.” She gave him a smile, hefted her staff, and gathered with some others, most wearing robes or light armor, under the flame banner.

  Agreeing with Katherine, Morgan made his way to a wide staircase on the side of the courtyard and up to the battlements. From here, 50 feet above another set of lower battlements, he could see all the way to the walls of the quarry. There were no monsters in sight. There were eight other guards on top of the wall with him. They all scanned the field with nervous twitches, except for one. He was a tall man with a thick mustache, smoking a cigar. The man wore dark leather armor and walked slowly toward Morgan from the far side of the wall, stopping to speak words to each of the guards, who visibly calmed after he passed.

  As he approached, Morgan could smell the thick tobacco and a light scent of citrus from the man’s cigar. He walked up, looking down at Morgan. Close, he was a giant of a man. He reached out a huge hand as though to push Morgan to the side and picked up a bow that was beside Morgan.

  “Scuz me,” he said, a thick southern accent dulling a deep voice that rumbled in Morgan’s chest. “Name’s Remington. You?” the man asked, reaching out his other hand to shake.

  “M.…Warden,” he replied, shaking the hand that dwarfed his. The man had a firm, but not malicious, strength in the grip as they shook once, then released.

  “You signed here?” he asked. Morgan cocked his head.

  “I don’t understand,” Morgan said. “I didn’t sign up, just got here today.”

  The man nodded, took a deep breath and, with a deliberate cadence, pronounced his words. “I asked if you’re assigned here. Forget y’all can’t understand when I talk fast. Oh, and call me Remy.”

  “Oh, yeah. Just watching, trying to keep an eye out for my friend.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Well, You’ll see plenty,” Remy said, straining slightly to string the bow. The massive bow was taller than Morgan and as thick as his leg. The wood creaked alarmingly as the bear of a man forced the string into the nock. Turning, Remy issued commands, and the others on the wall readied bows and uncovered barrels full of arrows. “Gotya binos?” the man asked over his shoulder. “Makes it easier to watch.”

  Morgan didn’t, but Sophia purchased a spyglass from the shop, and he pulled it out of his pouch as if it had been there the whole time. Remy nodded approvingly as Morgan extended the glass. Giant flames in the shape of flapping birds ignited in the sky. The ratcheting sound of the gates being opened was followed by the steady beat of marching soldiers as they filled in positions at the lower battlements. Across the quarry, half a mile away, a few small shadows that Morgan couldn’t identify came over the gently sloping rim. They were followed by more, then a group, and finally the mass entering the quarry was just a rolling mass of shadowy shapes.

  “Ready!” Remy called out to the archers. They all stood straight and grabbed an arrow from a bucket. The wave was getting closer, and still monsters poured over the rim.

  Morgan thought.

  Draw,” Remy called as he and the archers raised their bows and drew back on the strings. Remy mumbled something under his breath. Morgan felt a sensation of calm wash over him. The others did as well, growing calmer.

  “Fire!” The command boomed from Remy. As one, all the archers along the wall fired. Not just the eight near Morgan, but all along the wall. The arrows coming from archers within thirty feet of Remy split into dozens of arrows as they left the wall. They whistled out, farther than Morgan thought possible, arcing high into the air and then landing in the endless sea of monsters. The volley of arrows had minimal effect on the wave as it charged forward.

  There were a series of echoed commands ringing out as groups moved into defensive formations on the wall. Waves of fireballs, lightning bolts, and other magic flew out into the throng. Lighting up sections. The monsters coming over the rim slowed until there was only a trickle of slow or limping monsters in the back. As the front line neared, Morgan could now distinguish the individual shapes of trolls, orcs, and giant ogres over the mass of other smaller goblinoids.

  Seeing that a large majority of the enemy army was goblinoids caused a knot of tension to release in Morgan’s gut. Too soon. There was a deafening roar from the sky. A sleek black shape the size of a pickup materialized in the air, diving from the heavens. Following it were nine other shapes, slightly smaller but still as menacing.

  Morgan said.

  Sophia corrected.

  The wyverns swooped down and plucked figures from the walls, soaring back into the air with forceful flaps of giant leathery wings. Cries of fright and pain turned into howls of terror as the bodies were released and plummeted to the ground to land with sickening thuds.

  Remy began shouting orders. The defenders on the walls retreated to towers placed at regular intervals along the wall. The lower battlements had no towers that would impede sight from above. Morgan caught sight of Katherine below and to the side and decided it was time to join the fight. Making himself lighter, he crouched to jump as a huge hand grabbed him, pulling him to the side. His surprising lightness caused both him and Remy to tumble through the doorway of the tower, Morgan landing on top of the confused man.

  “The hell?” Remy groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

  “Sorry, I don’t have time to explain,” Morgan said as he rocketed out of the tower and into the air. He hadn’t had time to practice moving with gravity as much as he wanted. Nothing like learning in the fire. He soared into the air, the familiar thrum of energy suffusing him as the Loner buff activated. Searching for the flying snakes, he darted out over the battlefield. The first one was surprised to see him as he floated through the air. It zig and zagged trying to get around to the side of Morgan. With subtle shifts of his gravity, Morgan stayed facing the wyvern until the last second, when he increased his speed and slammed just below a wing as it circled. It shrieked, twisting its long neck to reach Morgan. Morgan clasped his arms around the thick, sinewy wing where it exited the body. Then he made himself as heavy as he could. They streaked downward, the wyvern’s shriek of frustration stopping as it realized it was falling, replaced by the sound of wind whipping past. It flapped twice ineffectually before it slammed into the ground. At the last second, Morgan tried to change his gravity, but he was a touch too late. He also slammed into the ground, albeit padded by a thick, truck-sized cushion of scales and bones.

  ::Congratulations! You are the ninth person in this world to kill a wyvern. Title Granted::

  ::Title Granted - Scalebane- Deal 15% more damage to creatures with scaled or leathery hides::

  His body had already healed by the time stood and reoriented himself. He was far from the wall. The front line of goblins was almost upon him. Without sparing them a thought, he summoned Broken Fang. The faint blade greedily drank in the blood of the broken mess of wyvern as he searched the sky for his next target. The big one!