Khardis in the Dungeon

The first Khardi to look out of the open hatch received a round right between his eyes from Viking. The second Khardi came out with his rifle raised, only for Weston to take his shot. They continued that way; Khardis looking out, mostly trying to get a few shots off, and either Viking or Weston taking them out. A couple got close to hitting one of them. Weston needed to reload first, so Viking kept going until he felt a burning in his arm. After that, he ducked back and felt a bit of a damp spot on his sleeve. Weston, having finished reloading, promptly took out the Khardi who fired. By that point, another Khardi was stepping out of the airship and took his opportunity while Weston was racking another round to fire. A bit of the wooden door frame next to Weston’s face exploded. The rifleman snapped back behind the wall.

“We’re not going to be able to hold this position, sir,” he said.

Viking had come to the same conclusion. They were going to run out of ammo before the Khardis ran out of men. He motioned to the end of the hall behind him. Weston understood, darting past the doorway and sprinting down the hall. Viking followed, jogging while keeping his eye on the door. When he saw a man look around, he fired. That same man fired back, but thankfully missed. Viking didn’t miss a second time. The man fell into a heap in front of the door as Viking joined Weston at the end of the hall.

“I’ve never been down here, do you know the way to the others?”

Viking looked around. By the look of it, they were in the dungeon, but he’d never been in this specific part before. A mild obstacle, especially since they had two directions to choose from. He shrugged.

“No.”

Weston laughed. “Of course not.”

A rattling came from the floor. Viking glanced down toward the source and, without thinking, he dove at Weston. They hit the ground the moment the grenade went off. With both his ears ringing from the sound, he helped Weston to his feet.

“We make a guess,” Viking said.

Weston nodded.

#

For several minutes, they ignored the gunfire following them. Their goal was to make it to others, hopefully intercepting whatever reinforcements were being sent their way. Viking allowed himself to get distracted slightly, wondering what this part of the castle was for. His best guess was quarters for the workers; it was originally a mining settlement, after all. He also thought he caught glimpses of faded lettering on the doors, but he wasn’t sure. If he had a moment to stop and investigate, he could find out. Unfortunately, that little historic curiosity would have to wait.

They eventually ran into a squad of soldiers led by the rifleman Viking sent.

“Get on the horn,” Viking said. “The Khardis are wor—”

He was interrupted by a Khardi shooting at him. Two of the soldiers stepped in front of him and returned fire while another soldier began yelling into a radio. Viking aimed his rifle down the hall. They all walked back slowly, keeping their attention on the attackers.

“Does anyone know the layout down here?”

“Yes, sir!”

Viking pulled the man who responded off to the side, then told him the directions they took. “I know there’s a main area, and I need to know if there’s another way to that place from where we came from.”

The man had to think for a couple minutes before answering. “I believe so, sir.”

“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Carlton, sir.”

Viking patted him on the shoulder. “We’re falling back!”

With Carlton in the lead, Viking and the others made their way through the halls. Their destination was a large chamber in the center of the dungeons. On one wall was the entrance to the elevator going down to the docks, opposite of which was a grand staircase leading up. The Alliance soldiers fitted it with a makeshift ramp after the castle’s original suffered a cave-in. The rest of the dungeons weren’t in much use, hence the unfamiliarity. At least, that side of the dungeons wasn’t used. The other side had quite a few rooms good for holding prisoners of war. Being the main point between the docks and the rest of the castle, the chamber was heavily occupied with armed men ready to make a defense.

Carlton, Viking, Weston, and all the rest came bursting in.

“The Khardis are coming! Cover all the entrances!” The men were immediately jumping at Viking’s orders. “Put someone on defending the elevator and the stairs! We cannot let these bastards get past us! Carlton, where does that other way come out?”

Carlton pointed at a hallway next to the stairs.

“Focus on these two ways! The Khardis are most likely going to us from there.”

Viking and Weston stayed by the way they came in. He wished this chamber had doors they could shut, if only to delay the enemy a little bit. For now, they would have to make do. Crates and barrels and carts all littered the chamber, and the soldiers were busy moving what they could into some kind of defensive barriers. Viking helped a slightly older man — a lieutenant by the insignia on his shoulder — carry a crate over to the hall he came from. They were setting it down when bullets started coming at them from down the hall. Some of those rounds tore chunks out of the barrier, leading Viking only to hope they’d last. He didn’t know how many men were on the Warmonger, but it could easily be more than a hundred based on the pyros.

“Keep on eye on those stairs!” Noticing a man by the stairs with a radio, Viking called out to him. “Get the word out there may be some on the level above us!”

The man cried out “Sir, yes, sir” then made the call.

Hopefully it’s enough, Viking thought. In the end, time would tell.