Downtown Druid

The Viscent ships ceased their bombardment, leaving only a pregnant calm that hung over the docks. The sailors that had survived expected them to start loading men onto rowboats to bring them ashore, but instead, the ships simply began to to turn until their prows faced the docks, and moved forward.

The sailors had no cannons left with which to counterattack as the Viscent ships own cannons were more accurate and had a longer range, allowing them to devastate the defenses while not suffering any losses themselves. Most of the sailors retreated to the defensive points further back where the guard and their recruited prisoners had begun to reinforce the barricades they’d already put in place. Only a few remained to watch the landing and report back.

Dantes watched as well, standing on one of the piles of rubble left by the bombardment and holding two massive seeds in his hands. Two had been all that Clay and Hema had been able to get for him with all the supply issues that had been hitting the city non-stop since the plague. He could feel them pulse, almost like the beating of a heart in his hand as he held them. He should be grateful, he supposed. Clay had gotten him twice as many as he’d managed to when he was in prison, and that one he'd had before had a tremendous impact on his fortunes. The two he held at that moment had to do the same thing.

He tossed one to Jacopo.

“The two in the lead?” he asked.

“No, we should target the row behind them. I hit the second from the middle, and you hit the one further down. That should do the most damage.

“Some of them will land though,” noted Jacopo tossing the seed between his hands back and forth.

“That’s inevitable. We need to maximize damage while they’re over the deepest part of the water.

Jacopo shrugged. “Wish we had eagle forms or something. Having to shift into a two-leg just to drop these is painful.”