69

The wooden ship creaked as the wind tore at the sails. The storm had been heavy on the bay for the last couple of hours but it seemed to slow down a bit as time went on. The soldiers muttered as the officers tried to whip them alive once more, the siege wasn't over yet and they were to make landfall soon.
   One of the soldiers, a bearded man, stretched his arms as best he could in the cramped space and checked the fittings of his shield again, everything seemed to be in order. He followed the others into the smaller landing vessels, twenty soldiers sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in two rows, and they began rowing to the shore. The wind while slower was still tugging at the boat, rocking it side to side as they moved forwards.
   The shore itself was lined with fortified emplacements; ballistae protected by palisades that had been built as soon as the attackers were spotted on the horizon. Archers stood at the ready to fire on any and all footsoldiers that made landfall. No one would take this fortress without suffering casualties in tenfold, nay, hundredfold!
   The bearded man could hear as the chaplain of their boat began his prayers. It was customary for them to follow along on the ships, but it had raised several eyebrows and mutters when they had started boarding the landing vessels. The prayers of the spirits were in a tongue not used by the common folk so while he could not hear what the chaplain was saying he could understand from the tone that this was not something meant to comfort the soldiers, but rather to lash out at the enemies.
   Suddenly an unnaturally large bolt of light struck down from the storm clouds and cleft the towers of the keep that rested on a hill above the shore. Panic broke out among the fortifications as the ground split beneath the ballistae and fire rose towards the sky. In their boats the armies of the Emperor cried in triumph as they made landfall and made short work of the defenders.
   Today the spirits had chosen the victor.