The first hits stroke the walls and towers of the city. Enormous fire stones, hammered with metal slabs, rumbled walls of Eldoras, shattering crenels, crushing defenders and making large loopholes in the towers. Some of these deadly fireballs flew over the walls and crashed in residential areas, lighting fires and obliterating houses. Despite the fact that most of the buildings were made of stone, the fire burnt down their wooden and hay roofs, generating enormous burning streams of the blaze. The most severe damage was made to warehouses, where all gathered wheat was stored; wooden buildings burst into flames in a blink of an eye like full powder kegs. A thick black smog shielded the shining sun in seconds.
The most severe damage was made to city's fortifications: the hit to the tower on the right to the watch-house obliterated one of few remained ballistas. Esrael observed how a large fire boulder hit powerful crenels and shattered the tower into burning pieces. Ballista's crew faced terrible fate: being on fire, like a full matchbox, and severely injured by shreds of boulders and wood, they fell off the walls with terrifying screams, trying to save from the blazing fire. But that was just the beginning: other deadly boulders damaged the walls and destroyed some massive crenels, pieces of which fell down and shattered with deafening thunder. Some kernels had a deadly surprise inside them — when they approached the wall, they exploded, freeing deadly shrapnel, which torn off arms, legs, heads of soldiers, who didn't hasten to hide behind tough defense crenels. First casualties appeared in first minutes of the siege: the wide walls were crowded with crippled bodies of the dead and wounded, who were holding their shattered limbs, trying to stop the blood streaming on the cold concrete. Terrifying screams, begs, moans were heard from everywhere — that chilling symphonic orchestra scared defenders out of their wits. It seemed that that hell would last forever. Esrael heard a peasant's praying: "Glorious Zeus, save our souls! Don't let our heads be served on the feast of death. Free us from this nightmare, free us from the Tartar's gates opening..."
Suddenly, the bombardment stopped. "Oh my,—Esrael thought.—It seems that prays of the fellow were not so senseless after all". But all his hopes rumbled, like a house of cards, when he heard the sound of the hostile horn, which encouraged warriors to attack. Siege towers trembled. A huge battering ram slowly started moving forward. Heavy infantry, overwhelmed by fulfilling desire to red their sharp blades with the blood of disobedient defenders, marched after them, carrying huge siege ladders. Only the cavalry remained still, waiting for the impeccable gates open and let them enter the city, giving them a chance for robbery and violence.
—Get the cauldrons ready!—Esrael ordered loudly. His order echoed through the fortress and chieftains made their soldiers do as he had said: "Cauldrons on the walls! Pour the oil! Hurry up!" Haste appeared on the wall: soldiers started carrying heavy cauldrons with hot resin, mounting them on prepared supporters; remained ballistas were being reloaded; defenders carried pieces of rumbled stone crenels; some people mounted big self-made forks in order to push ladders from the walls.
—Gilroy!—Esrael exclaimed, having spotted his friend near severely damaged wall.—Set enflame the arrows and fire at those siege towers! We mustn't let them reach the walls!
—Understood!—Gilroy replied. Having turned to archers and another remained ballista, he ordered:—Set the flame to arrows! Aim for the siege towers! Fire at will!
Obeying the commander, ballista's crew stretched the string, put the inflamed arrow in the rectangular recess and, having aimed for the tower, fired. In a blink of an eye, the arrow whistled through the air and pierced into the wooden flesh of the siege tower, having stuck in its leather upholstery. Sparkle! In a second upholstery burst into flames, like a fire of the Rithorian lighthouse. Then another arrow! Again and again! It needed ten large arrows to set the wooden carcass to the flames. When the tower was doomed to be destroyed, archers started jumping off the top loudly screaming. In a moment the large inflamed siege construction broke in half with the thunderous crackling, like a house of cards, having crushed all the soldiers standing below.
But the battle wasn't over: infinite chains of enemy platoons still marched to the damaged ashed walls of Eldoras, carrying heavy siege ladders, sharp grapples of which shone on the last rays of the sun, sinking in the azure sunset. Clanging chainmail and armor, alongside with loud orders of commanders, shook crippled and severely damaged fortifications of the Pendragon's kingdom capital. Straight above them three dark dragons, dressed in shining golden armor, were flying, carrying heavy cauldrons, which had odd pure-yellow liquid boiling inside, in their black clawish paws. Having spotted the upcoming danger from above, Esrael shouted as loud as he could:
—Watch for the air! Take cover!
But, unfortunately, only the dragon heard his warnings. Having rapidly turned his head in the direction of the horizon, he spotted, how a straight row of dark-scaled giant reptiles started to nosedive on the walls of the city, carrying a deadly load in their paws. Having realized that it was only I'm his power to resist the flock of dragons, our hero put himself together, stood on the remained crenels of the watch-house and was ready to fly towards the flying bombers of the Rothipelian age, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice:
—Wait! Where are you going?
Having turned back, the dragon saw Esrael before him. His look had terribly changed after thirty minutes of the bloody and exhausting massacre: the only thing visible on his face under the helmet, covered with a layer of soot, were his eyes, dim-brown corneas of which were hopefully staring at the dragon. Having sighed heavily, our scaly hero replied:
—Someone has to stop them: we are not going to make it only using our ballistas.
—But they will tear you apart! You don't stand a chance!—Esrael exclaimed.
—If you die, all those people won't be left anything to believe in!
—They did not believe in me, they believed that the help was going to come soon,—the dragon replied.—I mustn't let those bastards drop the cauldrons: if they do so, walls will rumble and the enemy will breach the line. Don't worry — I will be alright. Take care!
With these words dragon bounced from the crenels of one of the watchhouse's tower and hurried towards the approaching dark chain of dragons.
***
Having spotted an ice-dragon's approaching, one of three dark dragons, dressed in golden mithril armor, grinned and exclaimed:
—Hey, brothers, look at that! We have guests! Wait a second... It's the scum who had survived that massacre! Hey, Deadlytooth!
—Lucky bastard!—Deadlytooth growned.—He is going to foil our plan! —Definitely,—the first one agreed.—I'm going to teach him a lesson! I haven't tasted blood for ages,—he greedily licked his lips.—That's a hell of a prey! —Soulperisher, we have an order,—the third dragon, Rapiddeath, suddenly interfered.—Teynorus told us only to drop cauldrons and get back to the camp!
—Shut up, whipster,—nobody gave you a word!—Soulperisher snapped. His orange eyes instantly inflamed with anger.—I will drop this cauldron after taking care of that Stumertrade's scum.
With these words, having grabbed his load with the right rear paw, Soulperisher rapidly headed towards the dragon, having bared his teeth and sharp shining claw armor.
Having spotted Soulperisher coming from above, the dragon bared his sharp white teeth and exhibited his claws, ready to ward off the strike of the furious-drunk enemy. The greedy enemy was coming closer and closer, ready to tear apart his prey. Having triggered his right frontal paw, Soulperisher was ready to make a powerful punch and crush the head of the opponent, but he failed: his enemy instantly dodged, and made a counterattack with a right paw into his belly. Soulperisher's yell instantly silenced: lungs greedily inhaled oxygen from the air. But hardly had he recovered his breath, he suddenly got a powerful left uppercut in his jaw. Some teeth of upper jaw cracked, and the enamel of broken ones crunched on the remained ones. Having recovered from the powerful blow, Soulperisher licked his gums. The taste of blood made him even more furious. Having roared enragingly, the dark dragon, looking at his opponent yearningly, wrathy yelled:
—How dare you, son of the dirt under the claws, cripple Soulperisher himself! Haven't you been taught how the greet your master, bastard?! You shall pay for that!
—My sins are only Zeus's business. You are not the master, but a mortal enemy of mine!
The dragon's reply made Soulperisher fume. Having bared his sharp teeth, he attacked the ultramarine-scale squirt again. Dark dragon bumped into his opponent and severely injured him, having scratched the dragon's chest and stabbed his claws into our hero's shoulder. He felt muscles tearing apart, unleashing bright streams of warm blood. Weak, silent moan wavered in the air, as the dragon realized that his powers started failing him. He felt how his paws were becoming soft, like a fluffy cushion, how the image of his enemy, who had covered his black sharp claws in hot blood, was fading. Observing little hot drops of blood dripping from his body, the dragon suddenly heard his enemy's excited voice:
—Your end has come, bastard,—Soulperisher's dark head drew closer to the dragon's right ear.—Any last words?
At that very moment, when all hope for victory had faded, dragon gained a chance to strike back: Soulperisher didn't notice how he exhibited his most vulnerable spot — his throat — right before dragon's jaws. Having put all his remained powers together, the dragon weakly whispered: "Never underestimate your enemy",—and nailed his sharp teeth right into Soulperisher's gullet. He didn't expect such an unexpected turn of the events and set the dragon free, desperately trying to free himself from the deadly grip of his enemy, choking in his own blood. But everything was over when the dragon fiercely tore out his enemy's Adam's apple. When the last particles of air bubbled in the blood-covered throat, Soulperisher, having grabbed his throat in agony, rolled his eyes and lifelessly fell on the ground, crushing a siege ladder's crew marching below. Having spat the piece of the throat of the slain enemy, the dragon licked fresh drops of blood from his lips. Having remembered about the fortress, our hero looked back. He couldn't stand the shock: a part of the deadly load had been dropped on the city's territory, and the caustic yellow mixture had done its cruel job. Yells of wounded and dying from the liquid, which melted the defenders and citizens alive, made terrible scars in the dragon's heart forever. His soul was rankled by the thought that he didn't manage to stop other dragons and gargoyles with a deadly load of destruction in their paws. All of a sudden his thoughts were interrupted by the roar of the horn, which signaled enormous enemy's platoons to retreat. Finally, after such a cruel and bloody daylight fight, the army of the unknown enemy began to pull back, taking the wounded and siege equipment from the battlefield.
To the dragon's relief, fortress burst into an enthusiastic yell of soldiers, who were lucky to survive the first assault. But there were very few of those who saw that glorious event: only one thousand of three thousand defenders were left alive. The barracks remained after the artillery support, were full of wounded people, so there was no room for the new ones. Despite sweet euphoria of recent victory, Esrael, the dragon and Gilroy were aware, that if help didn't come, the whole city would become enormous brethren grave for all of them.