Darkest Dungeon - Town in Chaos part 2

I am Sharing this story from the Comments of Darkest Dungeon OST - Town in Chaos. yes... you hear me, it's from the Comments. I really like and I want to share it with you guys. Remember! I don't own this, it was made by Luxai, Furious Sherman, GoldBond Jiggle and Din 149. Go support Darkest Dungeon!.
Song for this story: Darkest Dungeon OST - Town in Chaos - Stuart Chatwood (2016) HQ Official.
Part 1: https://pastebin.com/AbQHwJ2r Part 2: https://pastebin.com/Gu1AzCgT part 3: https://pastebin.com/LpVFZrTH
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While terribly effective claws and teeth as well as armor-ignoring bile make for extremely effective combat weapons, they also draw the greatest shares of attention. In the midst of the chaos, a barbed hook flung out and wrapped itself around the Abomination’s left arm, pulled taught by the bandit that threw it. With a grunt of annoyance, the Abomination effortlessly grasped the rope with his own hand and yanked it back, forcing the man to stumble a few meters’ distance into the oncoming swing of his right arm; the blade-like fingers of which shredded the bandit’s face and neck into a gurgling mess with a single swipe. Bloodied and yet unbroken by the battle, the man-beast resumed his assault upon the firing lines of bandits between him and Vvulf, fully unleashing every ounce of animalistic rage he could in the hopes of disrupting the muskets and blunderbusses long enough to buy himself as well as the others time and breathing room. Together, with the Hellion’s own Brazen assault elsewhere within their ranks, the guns were beginning to be silenced one-by-one. Wisps of eldritch and holy light alike just barely sustained the two as they ebbed throughout the battlefield.

However; bandage, prayer, and incantation cannot cure ALL wounds as fast as they are acquired. Elsewhere, a bandit danced past the arc of one of the Plague Doctor’s vials, one of his blades reaching just far enough to create a nasty gash in the already injured woman’s stomach. This caused her to fall to fall to the ground clutching the wound with one arm; leaving her open and vulnerable. The bandit cocked back his own left arm; poised to deliver a final blow. Before he thrust forward, his left shoulder was met with the jarring pain of a small being driven deep within it. He shouted in pain as he turned around sharply and blindly slashed with his remaining functional arm - the blade catching nothing but air. He was then met with the blunt force of a censer smashing into his face; which did little more than break his skin, but then the real threat revealed itself. The very poisonous vapours emanating from within said censer seized and assaulted all of his senses - the resulting burning sensations of the blight reducing him to a choking and sputtering fit before slowly claiming his life.

By now, the group that consisted of the Houndmaster, Arbalest, Bounty Hunter, and the Crusader had fully worked their way into the fight as well - a very welcome addition to the forces defending the estate. The holy Crusader and the axe-wielding Bounty Hunter stepped between the Plague Doctor and an oncoming squad of bandits; broadsword, axe, and other armaments managing to hold this line for the moment. The woman wielding the mighty crossbow also knelt by the Doctor, taking the time to aim and subsequently fire a massive bolt that embedded itself into the skull of a bandit rifleman, his body and rifle both clattering to the ground simultaneously. “Exactly where I called it.” She softly said aloud with a smug smile; while reloading her weapon before setting it down and starting to tend to the Doctor’s wounds with her bandages. The Antiquarian aided her; waving a separate censer full of a medical solution around the multiple bleeding areas. The Houndmaster also stepped by the trio - ready to defend against anyone who might slip through or around the Crusader and Bounty Hunter. He let his faithful companion off of his leash - the canine promptly charging towards and latching onto the sword-holding arm of a lone approaching bandit. Before said bandit could reach for the dagger affixed to his belt, the Houndmaster himself brought down his spiked blackjack upon the bandit’s head, swiftly ending his life with a meaty crack. “Good girl.” He said, while patting his wolfhound on the head, before the pair jogged back over and readied themselves at the sides of the trio he was defending.

The crusader blocked, parried, and slashed in equal measure - all the while shouting things such as “BEGONE!” and “You shall not claim this place - OR THESE LIVES!” at the attackers. Beside him, the Bounty Hunter acted in kind. “I’ve dealt with your group before.” Another pair charged the defenders, and one of the last stun grenades from the Bounty Hunter’s belt came to greet them in a blinding blast. “Nope.” While they were disoriented, the Bounty Hunter buried his axe in the neck of the bandit on the right; while the crusader impaled the bandit on the left with his blade. “I’m going to have a field day with all of your bounties once this is over.” They removed their weapons from the bodies, and returned to their original positions.
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By now, the medicinal practices as well as the errant beams of healing light had restored the Plague Doctor to a respectable fighting condition. They hadn’t nearly had the time to get her back to perfect health - but this was far better than the state she was just in. “We have to get back with the main group.” she said, while standing firm and plucking another plague grenade from her belt. “Aye.” The houndmaster nodded. “Strength in numbers.” The Antiquarian agreed. “And we need all the strength we can get right now.” The Arbalest added, standing up. The group moved forward and to the sides of the Crusader and Bounty Hunter; with that group beginning to move towards the main defending force.

At the head of that force, the Man at Arms charged into Vvulf, the massive force of the impact causing the bandit leader to step back - but still, he held his ground. “Ah, Perfect! Finally, a man who can hold his ground. It’s almost a shame… We could’ve used a person like you.” He taunted, his twisted smile and wild eyes staring right into the stoic face of the Man-At-Arms. “And forsake my vows; as well as all of my fellow fallen soldiers? Never!” the ironclad man shouted, as he withdrew his kiteshield and struck at Vvulf’s own tower shield with his mace; producing a thunderous “Clang!”. After a brief moment of recovery, Vvulf gripped his tower shield with two hands and bashed forward in response, pushing back the armored man a negligible distance - but just enough to regain the ground he had lost. The Man-at-Arms retreated back to the front lines of his own crew, having been weary of staying too long and being attacked from the side. As the two groups traded deadly blows, a figure emerged from the top of a hill; making its way down towards the various fights. At first, its allegiance was unclear - but that was soon changed when it began aiding the Hamlet’s defenders! The hooded figure’s weapon gleamed as its wielder chopped defensively at any who approached; and it didn’t take long for them to catch Vvulf’s eye. “Ah; the stray!” He bellowed in the direction of the Survivalist. “Just icing on the cake. A QUARTER OF TODAY’S PROFITS TO THE MAN WHO BRINGS ME THEIR HEAD!” Almost instantaneously, two musket balls and a batch of grapeshot scattered rock and debris as narrowly missed the person, their wolf’s pelt and cloak almost gracefully gliding through the air as they dodged attacks and made their way towards the Guild.

The Guild’s singular entrance, strong stone walls, and plethora of weapons stored within made it the most defensible building in the town. All of the shopkeepers, facility managers, and civilians who weren’t slain in the initial frenzy had gathered here. The Guildmasters called out instructions and rallying orders as the perimeter they were holding just outside of the doorway buckled and bent, but held firm by some miracle. Above, from the top floor, the Musketeer’s rifle rhythmically fired just as fast as she could reload it - each shot raining down justice and death simultaneously. While her appearances were scarce, she had been with the hamlet since the beginning of the return to its ruins - and she would not sit idly by while it was being ransacked.

Finally, the battle was progressing to a slow - yet still bloody and ferocious conclusion. The two main forces faced down each other like a pair of staunch walls - the Hamlet’s defenders were all breathing hard and bearing multiple wounds; while Vvulf’s bandits were in relatively better shape, yet sizably fewer in number than when the siege first started. Despite each defender being only a few strong hits away from injury at a fatal level, they were all united by a singular purpose, the description of which could be defined in three words; “Repel the Bandits.”

“FORWARD!” Vvulf yelled, while maintaining a steady flow of hand-thrown artillery.

One final, swift clash ensued.

Longswords grinded against one another. Arrows and musket balls traded positions. A glaive and a greatsword annihilated all who dared step into range. Daggers, short swords, an axe, and a sickle gleamed in the flickering lights of the many fires as they found their ways into the weak spots of various armors. Claws and caustic bile mercilessly tore and melted through all who were in range. Disease-ridden grenades assaulted what remained of the Bandits’ backline forces while a mace-and-shield combination as well as a holy broadsword and a flintlock pistol posed potent threats to their frontal forces. Prayers and a holy book, as well as dark seances and eldritch sayings, were joined by an invigorating censer as all three gave out the last of their strengths to repair what little bodily damage they could.

“Their leader’s bounty alone will be able to pay for all of this! Also, revenge AND justice!” the Bounty Hunter exclaimed, marking Vvulf. “Vvulf! This next one is for you!” the Arbalest called out, furthering the mark on the bandits’ head of operations as she loaded a bolt. “Destroy the head, and the body will easily follow!” the Occultist shouted, casting his own hex of vulnerability upon the shield-bearing bandit. “Here, girl.” The Houndmaster called over his faithful beast, and fed her the last Treat he had. He brought his left hand to his mouth, and pointed with his right, whistling as loud as he could. “This one, girl!” He said, before grabbing the leash of his companion - who was barking and snarling at Vvulf. “Wait. Wait for it…”

Vvulf suddenly felt less protected and less able to dodge, with all of the attention now focused upon him. Before he could properly react, a musket ball and an arrow struck his left leg with precise and violent force! Blood spurted from the fresh wounds in bursts, but he could still stand.

The burst of a flintlock pistol and the whistling of a dagger soon changed this; as they struck his other leg! He was forced to his knees, propping himself upright with his shield. “You think I am the worst thing out here?! There is much worse!”

The bounty-hunter’s axe found its way past the edge of the shield, the bloody flash of metal that followed disabling one of Vvulf’s arms, and thus his ability to block.

“NOW!” The Houndmaster shouted, releasing his dog.

“I AM ONLY THE BEGINNING! WE WILL-” he was silenced as the wolfhound latched onto his throat, growling and snarling through its clenched jaw as he tore through the now-exposed flesh with ease.

Whether it was fitting or ironic; Vvulf met his end at the hands - or teeth, rather - of his namesake.

The battle was won, but the war was not yet over. The few remaining bandits gathered together to exact what revenge they could; while the now ragged defenders put all of the effort they could towards not giving in to exhaustion.

Elsewhere, from a ruined tower strangely untouched by all corruption, a man placed his binoculars back into a pouch as he took up the trusty warhammer he has always carried with him. “The blood is heresy… and much of it is being spilled this day.”