A bath of masses

Is it true that you have never heard of the defense of Poplar? It happened years ago; many years
ago. But it's never too late to learn a little, so let's get on with it. And one thing I tell you, I never
make mistakes: I hope that you had but just a bite, if you already ate. Ready? Let's go!

Legends say that there was a border settlement of dark, evil territories. The kind that appear in dark
tales to keep children awake at night. The castle of Poplar, for it was a castle, was more than
accustomed to scan the horizon and find stately clouds ready to bring darkness over their heads.
They also knew about pacts, and that they had to keep them with all the dots and all the commas,
for agreements made over dead land are not as fragile as those in the south. Eventually, they made a
pact with the wrong individual, and urged themselves to seek help, fearing that this time the sun
would rise red.

They hired a band of mercenaries, the kind that don't ask many questions if the bag is heavy
enough. And the people of Poplar promised extremely heavy bags. Upon arrival they gave them a
dekhana to prepare all the defenses, and they took only four days. So by the time the horns sounded,
the children, old and sick were already in the safest place, with many feet of stone, shields and gates
between them and the devils, for devils they were. Of course now everyone knows never to make a
pact with a devil but this, as I say, happened a long time ago, when people still believed that the
taste of chocolate was bitter.

They say the first onslaught came like a waterspout. You know it's going to be strong, but you can't
imagine how much until it hits you and knocks the wind out of your lungs. A swarm of small
creatures appeared out of nowhere and flooded the castle walls. Hungry rats climbed up the posts
and pillars, while red-eyed crows flew over every possible defense and a torrent of spiders came out
of wells and sewers. The horns fell silent, and all the creatures transformed into russet-skinned,
scorpion-tailed imps. And there was not a soul in Poplar who did not begin to pray.

When the gate fell the mercenaries had already given the order to retreat, and were entering the
great halls of the main building. A figure stood among the corpses, a worm surrounded by frost,
with large jaws and long, vigorous arms. Its long, spiked tail snaked, swinging its enormous weight,
and its pupil-less eyes searched for the next victim. The army commander had stormed the castle,
and his fate was sealed. The mercenaries unsheathed their weapons, and prepared to earn their pay
once more.

The hinges fell and the main hall was flooded by a legion of imps, who met opponents that roared
like the earth itself. The two goliath brothers were splitting imps in two and crushing skulls with the
greatest of ease, and enjoying it. The great axes did not even seem to lose momentum, and soon the
ground became a pool of blood. Behind them, bolts of energy emerged from the olive green hands
of an orc sorcerer, while accurate arrows sang from the hands of an earthy-skinned gnasi, the leader
of the mercenary group. Hours passed and the mercenaries continued to fight without giving an inch
of ground.

One might think that luck was with the mercenaries in that battle, for the bodies of the devils
disappear once they are dead. So many fell that, otherwise, they would have had to swim among the
remains of the creatures, while a still poisonous horde attacked them without quarter. One might
think that luck was with the mercenaries in that battle, at least until the icy devil burst into the hall.
They say that just by the thought of it, he erected a wall of ice between the two goliaths and the rest
of their companions, and no one ever saw them again.
Unable to provide covering fire, the gnasi and the orc had to retreat, and wait until the grung's job
was done. The missing member was a rogue grung specially showered in traps, and she had been
preparing a web of them to protect the castle for several days. And boy, did she do her job. Imagine
for a moment a wide and very deep corridor, through which a myriad of flying devils try to reach
the other end, where the prey awaits. Multiple ropes dangling everywhere, being torn away with the
inexorable flow of the vermilion mass. Some set off electrical deflagrations, others set off sharp
spikes from old cavities in the walls. The imps are electrocuted, pierced by arrows, crushed by
stones and cut into a thousand pieces by metal cables that expand from small wooden boxes glued
to the ceiling of the corridor. Unfortunately, the traps are over and the devils manage to reach the
other room. Although there are still some surprises in store, this is the last large room before
reaching the royal cellar, where the villagers hope to hold out for one more night.

Another combat takes place in that room, which is none other than the castle kitchen. There the
survivors of Poplar's army held out along with the mercenaries and the remnants of the militia.
Women and men who a month ago tanned leather, milked cows and gathered berries; and now
wielded sticks, stones and knives. This skirmish was not as spectacular as the previous one, and
much quicker. The initial onslaught was made by the icy devil, and without the goliath brothers the
group did not hold. One of the captains apparently fell to his knees, and with a puddle of urine
pooling on his tabard, lost his head to a bite. The gnasi scout raised her voice forcefully: "last
defense, last defense". And few survived.