Bruad moved through the crowd of Unholy.
When they came to the limit of the forest, they had seen the crowd close up. Werewolves, Witches and Vampires in an enclosed space were never a good idea, but the high amount of Ecrid in the air was driving them wild.
As he pushed through a large amount of Witches with a big paw, he saw them feeding on a dead Vampire. She lay on the ground, her corpse in tatters where the Witches had pulled the pale flesh from her bones.
A group of Vampires close to the Witches were hissing, she was obviously one of theirs.
As he came to a small piece of empty ground, he turned back to the forest limit.
He saw the location where Deadrick and his brothers and sisters lay in wait, right at the tree limit on a ridge, ready to pounce. They were well hidden, and wouldn’t be visible to anyone unless they were told that they were there.
The scrapping Unholy took no notice of him as he got closer to the ramparts around the tower.
“He’s almost there,” Deadrick said quietly, peering down his telescope at the crowd below.
Skrule was crouched next to him, not needing the telescope due to his heightened sense of sight.
They were all lying in wait behind the trees. At the front, Deadrick, Skrule, Danyel, Nerui and two Werewolf lieutenants stayed low, watching Bruad as he slowly made his way through the increasingly restless crowd.
The Lycans that Skrule brought with him all sat around with each other, waiting for the signal. Their number had increased slightly since Skrule had first arrived; some of the Pack had changed their minds and decided to fight for their kind.
“What are they waiting for?” Nerui asked in a whispered voice.
“A command… a speech from Juhra or the higher ups, I’m not sure,” Deadrick replied.
Deadrick winced as Bruad brushed against a Vampire, causing it to lash out. Bruad stepped back, growling, but the Vampire gave up, seeing the size of his foe.
Bruad regained his composure and continued to push on.
Bruad looked at the ramparts, there were only a few groups of Unholy on them, scattered around the three huge Ecrid cannons.
The plan was that Bruad would activate the gun in the middle. He would then fire randomly into the crowd to shock the Unholy. As Deadrick and the wolves poured from the trees and attacked, he would take out the two other guns to make sure that the Unholy couldn’t use them.
Deadrick tried to ignore the doubts that were in his mind, unsuccessfully.
Even with the back up of the Werewolves, they were still outgunned by at least fifteen to one. Even though Skrule reassured Deadrick that they were fully capable of killing ten Unholy by themselves, he was still worried.
They would have to execute the plan perfectly and quickly, and even the slightest mistake could mess up the whole operation and cause them all to experience a horrible demise at the hands, claws and paws of more than a thousand Unholy.
That thought made Deadrick stop thinking.
“I think he’s there,” Skrule said.
Bruad gazed up at the tower from the ramp that lead up to the ramparts.
At the top of the ramp, there was a giant, black iron door, big enough to allow a military airship through. At either side of the gargantuan door, there were the two huge Ecrid guns.
The third, biggest gun was built on a platform just above the door itself, with a ladder on either side leading up to it.
None of the Unholy groups scattered on the ramparts noticed him, and he got to the massive, sealed door without any bother.
As he put one paw on the rung of the ladder, his heart began to beat twice as fast as it usually did, and he started panting due to the absence of his human sweat glands.
His ears twitched as a Witch passed the later below him. He breathed out slowly, and slowly heaved himself onto the gun platform.
Deadrick had quickly explained to him how to use the massive piece of weaponry before they had arrived. None of it seemed to make sense right there and then, though. He scanned the gun again, hoping to grasp some remnant of the information Deadrick had given him.
It looked almost too hi-tech for this savage landscape. There was a comfy looking leather seat, set behind a console with a single, glowing glass orb of Ecrid, just bigger than his head.
‘The guns run on pure Ecrid transferred through the hands,’ Deadrick’s voice echoed inside his head, ‘This is so only someone who can channel Ecrid can use it. You’re a Werewolf, so you should be able to use what’s in the air. Just sit on the seat and put your paws on the orb on the console.’
That’s all he had been told- Deadrick said he had seen one once in a Gaelwynd scrap heap with lots of other remnants of the war.
From up here, he could see every inch of the courtyard. He saw the whole mess of Unholy, fights were breaking out between the different clans even as he was making his way through.
They looked in no way prepared for what was about to happen.
He sat down on the seat, and cautiously put his paws on the orb. He felt a tingling sensation through his fingers.
The tingling became a rush of sensation through his entire body. He went rigid for a second- thinking at the back of his mind that the sensation was not dissimilar to what he felt when he changed.
He felt dizzy for a second, and his stung. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the world had changed.
Everything had a green hue, and as he looked around, he could see the Ecrid energy around him. It swirled through the air like liquid. It span around his body, and rushed into his arms.
It trickled down his arms and sank into the orb, which was suddenly alive.
He could feel the gun- it was a living, breathing creature- a creature capable of doing devastating damage to anything in its path.
And it was under his control.
“He’s at the gun… get ready,” Deadrick said.
The Werewolves suddenly came to life. Each and every one of them got to their feet.
“As soon as he fires that gun, we attack- don’t hesitate, don’t even think,” Deadrick told them all.
A small growl traveled round the crowd.
Bruad had figured everything out within seconds.
Exerting a large amount of the Ecrid that was running through his body would pull the imaginary trigger.
Slowly moving his paws across the orb made the huge, narrow turret move left to right, and up and down.
As he looked around, his new hypersensitive sight threw up visual information of the crowd below. It scanned every single face, seeing the Ecrid that they consumed and gave out. It gave out percentages of how much damage was required for a killing blow.
It gave out estimated blast radii. One bolt of charged energy would kill a fair amount of Unholy.
His hands stayed light on top of the glass.
Deadrick had told him not to hesitate. Don’t think, he’d said.
So he took a deep breath, and fired.