meeting the squad

	Linus double-timed it in the wake of the four clergy.  Two were human women, tall and sun-scarred, with heavy longbows on their backs in little leather clips.  The last was a man in full-faced armor, with his features and species obscured.  They came to a halt in the back of the chapel, where a stone doorframe and beaten iron slab blocked their way.  The Deacon slapped his hand against an innocuous brick, and the door swung open in silence.

	Inside, Linus saw a war council.  A long wooden table with maps filled the center of the room.  All around it, he saw about a dozen adventurers, with the usual eclectic mix of magic items, armor, and personal effects.  A few looked up when he walked in.

	“Friends, this is Knight-Commander Linus Vorth of Rassalantar, the new leader of our defenses,” Mordican said, spreading his arms.  “Linus, these are the warriors of Torm who have come to our aid before you.”

	Linus saluted the room.  Fewer than half saluted back.  Linus hid a frown.  Not good.  “Folks, I’ll be assuming command of your defenses.  How many Jackalweres are out there, and what are they after?”

	One of the adventurers spoke up.  “About two hundred, and we have no idea.”

	“No attempt to communicate at all?”

	“None.”

	“Fantastic.  Where do they stage?” Linus asked.

	The same adventurer pointed at the map.  “The landing for the plateau’s main stair.  There are five stairs, and they’ve probed them all.  They got close using a testudo, once, but they’ve also tried slipping past us at night.”

	Linus focused on the speaker.  “Who are you?” he asked.

	She nodded to him once.  “Name’s Greta, I’m a Knight Initiate of the Triad.”

	“Were you in charge here?” Linus asked.  Some of the others laughed tiredly.

	“Nobody’s in charge now,” Greta snorted.  “Place’s anarchy.”

	Linus grimaced.  “Where are the civilians?”

	“Locked up in the rectory at night, sent out to scavenge in groups of four during the day,” one of the other adventurers said.  He was wearing an arcane focus and a holy symbol of Mystra, Linus noted.

	“Good.  Horses?”

	“Just a few summoned steeds,” Greta said.

	“Dwarfpowder weapons?” Linus listed.

	“Torm, I wish,” Greta said drily.

	“Of course.  Grenades?”

	“None, sir, but we could make some,” the Arcane Cleric said.

	“Great.”  Linus focused on him.  He was a half-elf with brilliant blue eyes and a visible scar over his lip.  “Who are you?”

	The cleric saluted.  “Sir, I’m Maelin Nevamal, Wild Magic hunter, at your service.”

	“Thank you.  How many total people have we got that can use thatWild Magic?” Linus asked.  He walked past the group and into the armory.  The response came from the Deacon behind him.

	“None.  We have nineteen spellcasters and a few professional fighters, sir, and that’s about it,” the Deacon said.

	“It doesn’t confer much advantage against Jackalweres anyway,” Linus muttered.  “Fine.  Artillery?”

	“We have none,” the Deacon replied.

	Linus blew out a breath.  “How much other backup have you summoned?”

	“As much as we can, but they’d have to cross the desert to get here,” Mordican said.

	“Alright.  Is anybody else arriving soon?” Linus asked.  He rubbed his chin as he took stock of the rows and rows of javelins.  “Plenty of ammo, at least,” he said under his breath.

	“A few knights, at most.  Not enough to turn the tide,” Mordican admitted.

	“Maybe enough, if this works,” Linus said.  He turned to face the others.  “All right, friends, this is how I see things.  Anybody here good at staying unseen and unheard?”

	“Against Jackalweres?” Maelin snorted.  “Bit optimistic, sir.  Maybe one person, at most.”

	“Then stealth isn’t the answer.  Anybody here familiar with this terrain?” Linus asked.  “Anybody who thinks they could set up an ambush?”

	The others looked around the armory at each other.  “I could do it,” one of them volunteered.  She was a young-looking tiefling woman, with a nervous habit of rubbing her fingers together.  “I’m Maple.  I can do it if you can give me a plan.”

	“You grew up around here, Maple?” Linus asked.

	“Well, no, but I was stationed here when the enemy arrived, so I’ve been here from the beginning,” she said.

	“Oh, good.  That will do.”  Linus clapped his hands together, making a metallic noise.  “All right.  Friends, I appreciate that you all chopped to my authority so quickly.  I’ll do everything I can to protect this place, with your help.  I need javelins, spears, anything long and pointy.  Doesn’t have to be expensive or high-quality, the cheap stuff will do.  Anybody here good at casting longevitous illusions?”

	A few people raised their hands.  “Good.  With me, people.”  Linus grabbed a double handful of javelins.  “We’ve got a few hours before nightfall.  That’s when the battle will begin in earnest.”

	Mordican looked around.  “Did you not have an adventuring group, Knight Vorth?”

	“They retired years ago,” he said.  Linus patted the pommel of his blade.  “I can handle it.”


	Linus stood on the dead rock of the outer plateau and whistled.  “What a view.”

	“It is amazing, isn’t it?” Modican asked.  “Before the invasion, we would sometimes send pilgrims out here to meditate on the sunrise.”

	“I bet.  I wouldn’t want to waste a vista like this.”  Linus shielded his eyes and stared out over the endless devastation of the desert.  The ancient flying cities of the Netherese weren’t visible under the shifting sands, but he could see the spurs and rubble of fresher towers in places, or great sinkholes where the Underdark had spread too close to the surface.  “So… these stairs.  Do they attack from each one?”

	“No,” Mendican said.  He set down his bundle of sharpened stakes and quickly sketched a circle in the sand.  “So, we’re here, and the main stair is here,” he said, pointing at a spot on the edge of the circle.  “The jackalweres take shelter behind barricades at the top of each stairway, but they launch attacks at us at sunrise and sunset.”  He sighed.  “Sometimes, they send out skirmishers during the night, too.”

	“Right.”  Axio unsheathed his sword and cricked his neck.  “Okay, I’m going to go take a look at this nearest barricade.  Somebody start planting these stakes in a semicircle.  Remember, the idea isn’t to use them as a weapon, the idea is to make the enemy have to approach from one direction at a time.”

	“Yes, sir.  Do you want backup on this recce?” Mendican asked.

	“Nope.  I’ll move quickly, and if I get seen, I’ll just leave,” Linus said.  He pulled his visor down and clipped it into place.  “I’ll be right back.”