Team ANGQ, leaders of the Rowj League, stood in front of their forces, looking down at what would soon be their battlefield. Stationed on their side of the confluence of the four rivers was the fort nominally held by Arkos that Celtic's forces were using to manage the flow of people and supplies through the area and the rivers. ANGQ had arranged their approach to ensure that they would not need to cross any rivers during the battle. All that they needed to contend with were the fortifications and the soldiers stationed within them.

"So," said Quixotic, "What's the plan?"

"We need to put a hole in that fort, otherwise this is an unwinnable battle," said Austin. He smirked. "Fortunately, we have just the tools we need."

As he spoke, as if on cue, several groups of soldiers rolled up a line of six trebuchets, stopping in line with the leaders. Gwydion looked at the trebuchets with hunger in his eyes, eager to put them to use.

"Remind me," said Nitesco, "where did we get these?" Austin waved a hand.

"I pulled some strings."

"Do we have enough ammunition for…" Quixotic trailed off as he noticed massive piles of boulders next to the trebuchets. "Where did we—"

"I pulled some strings," Austin repeated, dismissively. "Now, Gwydion has agreed to stay up here to manage our siege weapons and make sure they're being used to their fullest effect. I love our soldiers, but I swear, some of them are not to be trusted using these things unsupervised."

"What about the three of us?" asked Nitesco. "We're going to be leading the assault, right?"

"That's right," said Austin. "We're going to be down there with our troops, giving orders directly as we make our approach. We'll stay relatively close to each other, so we can easily coordinate and provide support with our squadrons." He looked at Quixotic expectantly. "Think you can handle that?"

Quixotic scoffed. "Of course I can handle it. Don't underestimate me; I'm more capable than I look."

Austin shrugged. "It's just, you've never struck me as someone with much leadership experience."

"I'm a perfectly fine leader! I can get people to follow orders. Watch." Quixotic turned to a passing soldier. "Hey, you."

The soldier turned suddenly, startled. "Sir?"

"Stand on one leg."

The soldier hesitated. "Uh, sir, why—"

Quixotic drew a dagger and pointed it at the poor recruit. "Did I fucking stutter, Jenkins?"

Even more shocked, the soldier raised his hands above his head.

"My name's not—"

"One leg! Now!"

Not-Jenkins complied without another word, raising his left leg off the ground and struggling to maintain balance. Quixotic turned back to his teammates, who each showed varying degrees of exasperation. "See? Leadership is easy."

Austin sighed. "I guess that's one way to do it." He shook his head, refocusing. "Alright, everyone. Get ready to begin the assault in a few minutes. Good luck."

The Rowj Army made its final preparations, and soon began the assault.

Admiral Al-Jahan, captain of the Xiphos, sat in his ship's cabin doing paperwork. Al-Jahan resented his job deeply; often he would vent to his quartermaster that he would rather be sacked than continue sitting on the confluence going through the review papers for traders wishing to enter and exit the Subreddit's waterways. He complained to his superiors that as an admiral, he should be leading the naval campaign out on the Rooster Teeth Sea, not sitting in his cabin pushing papers. The unfortunate officer was turned away every time, and so there he sat, quill in hand, hoping something interesting would happen before evening came.

His quartermaster knocked on the door.

"Come in." He growled, annoyed.

His timid second-in-command swallowed and reluctantly set down another stack of inventory reviews from fishing vessels being escorted out onto the open sea by a small convoy of Greek Fire ships. Al-Jahan turned a menacing gaze to his quartermaster, who merely averted her eyes.

"The fort is suspicious. They want us to conduct full inventory searches of all the vessels."

The admiral sighed and stood, preparing to tell the men unlucky enough to be assigned to his ship that they would have to take time out of their dinner break to search another ship. He shoved open the door to the deck before steadying himself and sighing.

"Why do we need to do this again? The Xiphos a warship, not a patrol boat."

The quartermaster merely shrugged. "There's a lot of fishing vessels."

Another exasperated groan escaped his lips before he walked out onto the deck.

He noticed the fishing boats out in the distance. The last rays of the setting sun illuminated the inlet, allowing him to see despite his failing vision.

The schooners escorting them flew the Greek Fire colors, their deep crimson and bright gold colors flying in the wind. The unmarked fishing boats zigzagged in between their escorts, as if trying to find which ship to go to. Finally, they fell into formation, each one advancing towards the ship due to inspect them in a perfect line.

Their escorts, however, hung back. They reeled in the sails, not stopping, but slowing down. The admiral stroked his beard, suspicious, yet curious.

"Should I give the signal for them to stop?" The quartermaster piped up. Al-Jahan waved her off, forcing a snicker.

"What are they going to do, attack us? They're fishing vessels. It'd be a suicide run." He turned around to face her.

"I disagree, Admiral. They may attack us."

"And maybe the sky will open up and fire will rain down from the heavens, but I doubt that just as much." He leaned on the edge of the ship and cried out to the vessels, which had not slowed down. He leaned in to examine them closer, straining his eyes. He saw the crews of the ships tie the ropes to keep the ships going full speed, before diving overboard. Almost on cue, teach one of the ships erupted in flames.

Al-Jahan gasped in horror, suddenly retracting his earlier remarks about the quiet evening. He turned to the quartermaster, who merely screamed one word:

"Fireships!"

The crew began stumbling about the deck, untying the riggings, readying the cannons, a few clamoring up the steps to the wheel in a vain attempt to pilot the ship out of harm's way. They weren't fast enough.

The fireship narrowly missed the front end of the ship, instead skirting along the edge until the powder in its hold finally exploded, rupturing the side of the vessel and laying waste to his men. Other, smaller explosions echoed around him, decimating the blockade and sinking some of the smaller ships with a single explosion. The Xiphos began to capsize.

The admiral wasted no time in diving overboard, abandoning his already-doomed ship and leaving his quartermaster on board. Several of his sailors followed suit, choosing the murky depths of the confluence to the rapidly-capsizing flagship, diving into the water before surfacing and observing the ruins of the blockade. The Greek Fire ships began firing at the remaining ships, taking advantage of their surprise to deal devastating strikes. From the riverbank, he could see trebuchets hurling massive projectiles at both the fortress and a few ships that were docked or stationed near the edge of the river.

Nur Al-Jahan cursed his luck and began swimming to the opposite shore.

The attack went better than expected.

Austin had expected at least some of the soldiers to stay and guard the front gates in case the naval attack was a distraction. To Austin's surprise, but not displeasure, almost all of the Citadel's personnel began scurrying over to the wall overlooking the open sea, where the blockade was currently being blown to oblivion. A couple of the smarter ones hastened to the west side of the fort to see where the trebuchet fire was coming from. Unfortunately for them, they failed to notice that their enemy was closer than they thought.

A few trebuchets stationed closer to the fort flung their projectiles with pinpoint accuracy, shattering the weakest portions of the wall. Austin leveled his sword at the breach, and the soldiers under his command gushed forward like water from a dam.

The Arkos soldiers were surprisingly quick to respond, filing out of the holes in the walls and meeting the Rowj soldiers with desperate ferocity. The veteran merely laughed at the futility of their defense and ran headfirst into the fray.

Nitesco followed him eagerly, swinging his sword wildly and protecting Austin from any threat that came from behind. Conversely, Quixotic broke off from the main group and carved his own path towards the breach, gracefully dancing through the enemy lines, a trail of blood following the path of his blade. The trio now stood in the middle of the fray, miraculously unharmed.

Austin suddenly questioned whether diving straight into the action was a good strategy after all.

"Nitesco! Are you alright?"

Nitesco responded by grabbing Austin's wrist and sprinting to the cover of a pile of bricks, presumably the wreckage of the ruined battlement above them. Quixotic managed to part the soldiers and make his way over to the temporary cover.

"What's the plan?" Quixotic asked, out of breath.

"Most of our troops are engaged right at the front of the fort, but I left a few regiments to defend Gwydion and the artillery. If our enemies go around and flank them, those regiments are doomed."

"Like that?" Nitesco jabbed a finger in the direction of a column of Arkos soldiers that was rapidly advancing through the woods on one side of the main path into the Citadel.

Austin coolly scrutinized the men, looking for a tactical advantage in the snowy terrain that they were concealed by. Quixotic muttered a few unfamiliar expletives under his breath.

"What are we going to do? They'll tear our trebuchets to bits if we don't stop them!"

Nitesco responded by sprinting out from behind the cover, prompting his two advisors to exchange worried glances before following him.

"Nitesco! What are you doing?" Austin screamed over the sounds of the bloodbath at the gate that they were quickly leaving behind. Nitesco neglected to answer, instead picking up his pace. He arrived at the lightly defended entrenchment at the top of the hill that overlooked the Citadel. A poor design on Arkos' part, Nitesco noted.

Austin clambered up the hill behind him, arriving next to him and coughing slightly. Quixotic lagged behind, dropping to his knees and panting like a dog.

"How is it that I have less stamina than an old man twice my age?" Austin merely shrugged and helped him to his feet.

Gwydion stumbled over to them, clearly concerned.

"What are you doing up here? The battle needs you!"

"They can handle themselves for now. You're about to come under attack. There!" Quixotic stammered between deep breaths and jabbed a finger in the direction of the snow-capped trees. Almost on cue, the battalion of enemy soldiers, larger than previously expected, emerged from the tree line and began marching up the hill. Gwydion swallowed nervously before barking orders to his men.

"I want anybody who is not loading the trebuchets to follow our commanders and counterattack the Arkos scum! Alroy, Lance, you can stay." He turned to the trio and inhaled sharply.

"Please save our lives." He laughed, trying to ease the tension. Quixotic, having mostly regained his breath, saluted wittily and joined the forces charging down the hill. Austin and Nitesco both gave Gwydion the most confident glances they could before following their men.

Though outnumbered, the Rowj forces had the higher ground and were able to deal some moderate damage before the skirmish with the unusually gutsy Arkos soldiers devolved into a bloodbath. Nitesco made wide, sweeping strikes against his enemies, knocking those he could off balance and simply taking the less vulnerable down with a dirty kick to the shins. Austin struck slowly, but intently, holding the men who decided to attack him back before taking advantage of the openings he created in their defenses. Quixotic nimbly dodged and rolled around his enemies before slashing them with his serrated blade and proceeding to disable them as showily as possible.

Austin and Nitesco polished off a few remaining soldiers while their men chased the retreating remnants of the brash assault back into the woods. Quixotic swept at the commander's wrists, sending his opponent's comically oversized broadsword into the air before he caught it and brought it down into his opponent's skull. "Ha! Did you see that? Marvelous!" Quixotic chuckled sadistically while Austin turned his attention to the riverbank. On the east side of the battlefield, he could see a large force crossing the thinnest part of the river on foot. He could see, but only just barely, the red flags of Arkos and the brown flags of Crosshares dancing in the winter breeze. He smirked.

"Don't get too excited, my friend." He smirked wistfully. "This battle's not over yet."

Vulpix had arrived on horseback with Inferno, Shippo and their respective forces to discover the fort at the confluence already under attack. With great difficulty, they had crossed a river under sustained trebuchet fire and entered the fray to defend the crumbling fortress. Now, after sustaining heavy losses, the three leaders were face to face with what were apparently the leaders of the opposing army, preparing to make a final effort to rout the attackers. Vulpix had been hit several times over the course of the battle by stray projectiles and debris, and though he had received no serious injury, he was fatigued, frustrated, and fearful.

Vulpix was not having a good day.

He stepped forward with his sword ready, prepared to engage the enemy leaders. He yelled over the roar of the surrounding fighting. "I am general Vulpix of Arkos. These are King Inferno and Shippo of Crosshares. Who are you, and by what authority do you lead this army?"

The one in the middle stepped forward with his own weapon in hand. "I am Austin, and these are the mighty Nitesco and Quixotic. We lead by right of popular consensus."

Popular consensus? What is this, a republic?

"What nation does this army fight for?" Vulpix asked.

"None in particular," said Nitesco.

What the hell?

"Why are you attacking us?" Vulpix asked, growing increasingly annoyed.

"Because we hate Celtic," said Quixotic, plainly. Vulpix blinked, taken aback by this unusual set of circumstances.

"Alright," said Shippo, "I've heard enough. Let's end this." Inferno nodded. Together the trio charged forward and engaged Quixotic, Austin, and Nitesco in combat.

The fighting was fierce, with each combatant displaying his own skills as a fighter. Shippo swung. Quixotic dodged. Inferno thrusted. Austin parried. Nitesco kicked. Vulpix received a kick. Vulpix's day continued to go poorly.

The struggle continued with no side having a clear advantage for some time. Suddenly, Shippo lunged forward and grabbed Nitesco, and held a sword to his throat.

"Drop your weapons and surrender, now!" He demanded.

Quixotic saw this and reacted instantly. He dove forward, tackled Inferno, and held a sword to Inferno's throat in turn.

"No," he said coldly. "You drop your weapons."

"Get off of him, now!" Shippo demanded. He dug the sword into Nitesco's throat slightly, prompting a frightened shout from Nitesco. For fear of being cut open, Nitesco remained still.

"You don't want to play that game with me," Quixotic replied. He pressed his sword into Inferno, coming just short of drawing blood. For fear of being cut open, Inferno remained still.

"Everybody STOP!" Vulpix screamed. Those without swords to their necks turned to look at him.

"I can see this is only going to end poorly for all of us if it continues. So, here's what's going to happen." He turned to Austin. "I'm going to lower my weapon. You do the same."

Austin nodded. "We're going to exchange hostages?"

"That's right," said Vulpix, lowering his sword and watching Austin carefully as he did the same. "Now, slowly and carefully, we're going to give each other our men back. Afterward, we're all going to go to the back line of our respective armies. Any questions?"

Quixotic spoke. "Yeah, I've got one. Austin, why the hell are you trusting these guys?"

"Because they're trusting us," Austin replied. "I know they are, because they have too much at stake to not. Isn't that right, Vulpix?"

Vulpix sighed. "I can't let you kill Inferno. He's too important. I assume Nitesco carries a similar importance for all of you."

"You assume correctly," said Austin. "Now, Nitesco and Inferno, listen carefully. Shippo and Quixotic are going to move you to your respective sides, and then return to their own sides. Until we give you the all-clear: Don't. Fucking. Move."

"Yeah, okay," Nitesco said quickly, whose voice was an octave higher than it normally was.

"Wasn't planning on it," said Inferno, whose face was several shades paler than it normally was.

The exchange went slowly, but without a hitch. Quixotic and Shippo glared at each other as they returned the hostages and walked back, but neither made a move to attack, complying with the wishes of their respective comrades. Before this day, none present would have thought it possible for there to be an awkward silence in the middle of a battle. However, an awkward silence there was, as each side looked for a second at the other. Nobody was sure what to do.

Vulpix turned to Inferno, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay, my friend?"

Inferno nodded, holding his neck. "I'll be fine. He didn't hurt more than my pride."

At the same time, Austin looked at Nitesco. "Nitesco, how are you doing?"

Nitesco shakily gave a thumbs-up, though his face showed that his feelings did not match his thumb.

Vulpix addressed Austin. "Thank you for your cooperation; for a moment I was afraid I was going to lose someone important to me—to our cause."

"No," said Austin, "Thank you. It's rare that I meet a commander with such a level head. I hope we meet again." Austin looked up and examined his army's objective, the fort they were assaulting.

The fort was severely damaged. There were at least a dozen gaping holes in the walls, and three towers had been demolished. Bodies decorated the tops of the walls and ground in front of the fort, and a large group of Arkos soldiers was struggling to contain a fire. How that fire had broken out, Austin had no idea. That was presumably Gwydion's work. Austin turned to his friends.

"Quixotic, Nitesco, let's give the retreat order. We're done here." Nitesco nodded. He leaned on Quixotic, who supported him as the two walked back toward their army. Similarly, Shippo supported his lord Inferno as the two walked back toward the fort. Austin and Vulpix exchanged one last look, then turned and followed their comrades.

As Austin, Quixotic, and Nitesco made it back to camp with what remained of their army, Gwydion and the men with him rose to meet them.

"Everyone!" said Gwydion. "I'm glad to see you all alive. I saw things got really dicey for a while. How'd you all get out of there?" Austin looked at Nitesco. Nitesco was shaking, and a cut on his neck was visible. His arms were wrapped around Quixotic, who somewhat uncomfortably rested a hand on Nitesco's shoulder. Austin looked back at Gwydion.

"We pulled some strings."