Tallis stepped outside as morning broke over the hills and painted the fresh snow with dazzling rays of gold. The dead city stretched out in the valley below him, burnt and blackened buildings breaking the crust of the snow like the frostbitten fingers of a forgotten leviathan. He squinted down at the empty streets, frowning. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear they looked freshly shoveled.

And something that might have been smoke twisted up from the ruins. 
  
Aragam let out a small cheer behind him and a fire crackled to life, sending a thin plume of smoke rising into the air. “What’ll it be, eh? Fatback, eggs, biscuits? All three?”

Tallis rushed to the fire and kicked snow into the fire pit.

“The hell are you doing?” Aragam snapped.

“There’s someone down there watching us!” Tallis snapped.

Aragam pushed him away from the fire. “Tallis, this whole swath of the world is dead. Deader than dead. It was all I could do to find wood to burn, yeah? There’s no one down there.”

A bugle echoed up from the city below.

Another one answered it.

Aragam’s eyes widened and he rushed over to the weapons wagon, throwing the canvas tarp off and tearing open the crates. “Trouble!” he shouted. “Everyone up!” He moved with mechanical precision, pulling rifles out of a crate, sliding the bolt open, and slipping a strip of bullets into the weapon. He passed the first rifle to Tallis. The rest of the crew ran out of the ancient fort and accepted a weapon. All except Setia who stepped into the cart and came up with a long and thin rifle that sported a brass, telescopic sight that ran the entire length of the barrel.

She braced the barrel on the side of the wagon and peered down the scope. She let out a low whistle. “It is bad news down there. Cold Iron. And lots of them.”

Callan rammed the bolt closed on his rifle and growled. “How many?”

“A gods damned army by the looks of it. They’re forming up now. Shit!”

Valerie squinted down at the city. “Shit, what?”

“They’ve got some real heavy iron. Setting up machine guns on the backs of wagons.”

“Shit.” Valerie shouted. “Can you get them from here? Put down some fire while we break out some party tricks of our own.”

A wicked grin flashed across Setia’s face. “Range is a bit … extreme. But you know me. I love a challenge.”

Valerie clambered up into the wagon and pulled out a long wooden box. “Callan, help me with this.”

The Fae obliged and pulled an axe from a loop on his belt, driving it down into the wood and using it as a lever to pry the lid open. Inside were four short barreled shotguns with the stocks sawn off. Valerie handed them out and pressed a small box of shells into Tallis’ hands. He opened them and found a row of paper shells tipped with redstone.

“What are these?”

“New toy from the summer court,” said Valerie, sliding the shells into her gun. “Make a hell of a mess.”

Setia’s rifle roared. The agents in the town below started to run towards them.

“What’s the plan, Tallis?” asked Callan.

He pointed to a pale building in the center of the city. “There. That’s where the Devils are made.” He looked around at the Faerunners, the friends who had helped him so much along the way. “I can fly there alone. Just give me a few sticks of that dynamite and I’ll handle it. You guys get out of here. Get somewhere safe.”

“Fuck off to that,” said Aragam. “They’ll see you coming, and we’re not leaving you with a whole battalion of agents.”

Setia fired another shot. “We’re in this together,” she said. “We all go or none of us go.”

“Damn straight,” said Valerie.

The agents below fanned out and started firing. Bullets screamed through the air and slammed into the snow, sending miniature squalls swirling into the air.

“Bastards,” Callan snarled. Everyone scrambled behind the wagon. The Justicar stepped forward and flung a redstone towards the battalion. The stone burst and kicked up a thick pall of inky smoke. “This way. We’ll be eaten alive here in the open.”

No one needed to be told twice. They scooped up whatever weapons they could carry from the wagon and ran off after the warrior Fae. They hit the bottom of the hill and Valerie dropped to one knee, firing her shotgun. The weapon spat a cloud of red sparks and the whoosh of a torrent of flame sounded a heartbeat later. Screams filled the valley. The steady beat of gunfire stopped.

The Faerunners cleared the wall of smoke. The battalion was rushing away from a wall of flame, firing into the smoke as they went. Another volley of redstone shells pushed the agents back towards the buildings and the Faerunners sprinted for the ruins, desperately looking for cover.

They almost made it.

An ocean of lead surged from the ruins threatening to drown them and they all dropped, spells and shield charms crackling with sparks and flashes of light. The world went white and Tallis crawled forward, worming his way through the deep snow. They crawled for what felt like ages as wave after wave of fire broke over them. The agents finally let up and the sound of gunfire was replaced by the soft crunch of boots trudging through snow. The Faerunners leapt to their feet bursting from the crusty snow and firing another volley of enchanted spells into the agents.

The Cold Iron soldiers didn’t have much of a chance.

They were in the open and had nowhere to hide from the solid wall of flame that rushed towards them. They died screaming.

Tallis felt his stomach turn and do a sickening little flip. The valley was thick with the smell of burnt hair and something that was disgustingly similar to cooked pork. He dropped the now empty shotgun and unslung his rifle, charging once again towards the ruins. They were all that mattered. Not the churning in his stomach. Not the fire in his lungs. Not the fear in his heart. Just the ruins. Cover. Safety. That was all that mattered. Bullets split the air behind them, slapped into the snow at their feet, bounced off their shields. None of it mattered. They ran on, only one thing on their minds. Cover. Safety.

They hit the edge of the dead city and dug into the buildings like rats, surging into the closest structure through holes in the wall, through windows, and through the cellar door. They regrouped on the dust-caked main floor of the home they’d overtaken. Tallis collapsed to the floor and rolled to his back. He pulled in a ragged gasp of frigid air, trying and failing to get to his feet. His legs were like jelly. 

“Anyone dead?” said Valerie. She was standing in the center of the room, doubled over with her hands resting on her knees.

Callan gave Tallis a nudge with his boot. “I think we lost Tallis.”

“Not. Dead. Yet.” Tallis gasped.

“Good,” said Aragam. “We’ve got more incoming.”

“Fuck,” said Valerie as she cocked her rifle. “Why don’t they just quit?”

Callan drew his trademark shotgun with one hand and his axe with the other. “They would if they knew what was good for them.” The faeland warrior had barely broken a sweat.

Tallis struggled to his feet and collected his rifle. He recognized the building they were in as a house but it wasn’t like any house that he had ever seen before. There was a low table pushed to the far side of the room, an area rug that looked like it was made from woven grass and a tiny jade statue of a dragon. Other than that the room had no furniture. The walls were bare wood, and the doors looked like they were made of paper. It wasn’t anything like he had seen in either human or fae lands.

A bullet leapt through the window. It looked like he wouldn’t have time to learn more.

Aragam stumbled back with a curse, clutching the side of his face.

Callan caught him. “Are you okay?”

The Changeling pulled his hand away. Blood streamed down his cheek.

“Damn,” said Callan. “I hope that wasn’t your favourite earlobe.”

“Son of a bitch,” said Aragam with a dark chuckle. “It was.”

Callan wound a bandage around Aragam’s head. Valerie took the Changeling’s place by the window and started firing out into the street. Setia scampered up a ladder at the back of the room and took up a position in the loft above the main room.

Callan finished with the bandage and clapped Tallis on the shoulder. “Start shooting, friend. We may yet survive this.”

Tallis slipped in next to Valerie and started firing. He had no two clues what he was shooting at. As long he was firing in the same direction as everyone else that had to count for something. The streets outside the window were wide and dotted irregularly with other homes. There was no rhyme nor reason to the layout of the city.

A muzzle flash flared out from a low window at the end of the street and a round smashed into the window casing next to Tallis, showering him with splinters. He fired back and cycled the bolt on his rifle. He pulled the trigger again and the weapon clicked empty. He threw it down and ducked behind the wall.

“I’m out,” he said.

Valerie fired once more and dropped her rifle too. “Me too.”

Callan sent both barrels of the shotgun roaring down the street. “Empty house up and to our right. We should keep moving. Setia, Aragam, cover us.”

Callan leapt through the window and sprinted down the street, bullets sparking off of the layers of spells wrapped around him. Tallis followed him. A sharp blast of light flared out from his chest as one of the spells laced through his coat turned a killing blow. He shouldered his way through a paper door and tumbled to the ground.

Callan lifted him to his feet and pointed him back the way he came. “Cover Valerie.”

Tallis drew his pistol and took up a position by the doorway.

Valerie hammered down the street. A sharp crack echoed from up the road. Blood misted the snow. The big woman stumbled, and fell.

“Gods,” said Tallis. “She’s down.” He ran out into the street and slid to a stop in front of her. Three bullets hammered into his back. He turned and put four rounds downrange. Callan’s shotgun barked out two more shells and Tallis grabbed her under the arms and drug her into the house. “Still alive, boss?”

She grunted and pushed herself to her feet. A dark red stain was spreading along the left side of her shirt. “I’m not cooked yet.”

Callan fired twice more and threw the sawn off away. “Now it gets fun.” He hefted his axe.

Valerie held one hand to her side and drew a monstrously big revolver with the other. ‘We have very different definitions of fun.” she said through gritted teeth, and stepped up to the doorway next to Callan firing down at the Cold Iron Agents. Aragam and Setia followed them into the house. 

Setia shook a scorched bracelet free from her wrist. “That’s my shields done.”

“Anyone got bullets?” Valerie asked.

“I’ve got two clips for my pistol,” said Tallis.

The crew checked over their weapons. Ammunition was in short supply.

“We need to keep moving,” said Valerie. “Tallis, Aragam, you’re up front. Callan, Setia, in the middle. I’ll bring up the rear. Take the fight right to them.”

Callan took a practice swing with his axe. “I’ve been waiting to hear that.”

Tallis grit his teeth and stepped up to the door. He gave Aragam a nod and they all charged. Tongues of flame leapt towards them from a tall building at the end of street. Shields sparked. Guns roared. They hit the open doorway like a freight train and burst into the house. Tallis barreled into an agent spilling both of them to the floor. Something sharp jabbed into his ribs. He fired twice. Hot blood splashed over him. He leapt to his feet, and fired two more times into an agent across the room. Callan surged past him and buried his axe in the agent’s collar bone, cleaving them nearly in two. He kicked the corpse away with a roar.

A fresh wave of agents rushed down from the second floor, carrying a mix of pistols and calvary sabers. Tallis opened fire. One of the agents stumbled, shield spells failing. Setia put a bullet between the agent's eyes.

“Watch out!” called a voice from outside. The agents backpedaled. A sound like canvas ripping filled the house and a river of lead tore through the walls. Everyone dropped. Tallis threw an arm over his head and crawled for the nearest corner. He curled into a ball as the world came apart around. Everything was noise and splintering wood.

“Greenstone!” shouted Aragam.

Callan rolled to his back and fished one out of his pocket. He reached up to throw it and a bullet tore through his arm. The stone clattered to the floor. Tallis scrambled forward, bullets carving through the air inches above him. He seized the stone and tossed it to the Changeling.

Aragam whispered a spell and crushed the stone. His suit coat turned to steel and he shot to his feet, charging, invincible, through the hail of fire. With every breath the spell faded. Aragam made it outdoors and an incy gale rocked the building. A short, strangled scream rang out, and the gun fell silent.

He stepped back in and brushed the frost from his shoulders. “Well that’s handled.” Excess energy crackled around his finger tips.

An agent dared to take a step forward, Aragam raised a hand, gathering the excess energy. He let the remnants of the spell go and flug a spear of ice through the agent’s chest.

With that, the fight was back on. 

Cold Iron rushed forward, swords and pistols drawn. Callan rushed towards bellowing something that was half roar, half laugh, and met them with the clash of steel on steel. Setia sighted down her gun and fired into the fray. Tallis’ gun clicked empty and he fumbled a fresh clip into the weapon. One of the agents slipped free of the tangle, swinging a saber towards Setia. She fired.  The bullets slid over a shield spell with a crash of orange sparks. The agent’s saber bit flesh. Setia cried out and fell backwards, blood arcing through the air.

Her gun hand fell to the ground in front of her, still clutching her pistol.

The agent swung the saber around and the steel hammered into Tallis’ side, digging into the scales of his vest. He brought his arm down, trapping the blade between his elbow and his side. With a snarl, he brought the pistol up and put three rounds through the agent's chest. The soldier drew in a rattling breath, eyes wide, and fell backwards, letting go of the sword.

The man hit the ground with a dull thud, and everything fell deathly silent.

The crew clustered around Setia, hastening to wind a bandage around her bleeding stump.

Tallis stood, numb and shaking. It was like all the light, hope, and joy had been leeched out of the world.

Voices echoed up the street.

“More, coming,” growled Callan. “Tallis.”

The sound registered somewhere in his mind but it slid over and out of his thoughts. He stayed still.

Callan clapped his hands in front of Tallis’ face. “Tallis! More. Coming. Let’s go.”

Tallis staggered out into the street and slid his last clip into his pistol. More than a dozen agents were running up the street towards them. Callan rushed off towards the left side of the house. A wagon with a machine gun mounted to its back stood there, encased in ice. Callan leapt into the back of the cart, and tore the gun from its mount. Tallis opened fire on the agents. They fanned out, diving for cover. A wave of lead rolled up the street, pushing Tallis back into the house. Callan opened up with the machine gun, toting the massive weapon as if it wieghed nothing. A bullet caught him in the forearm, wrist, calf, and he fell to one knee.

Tallis leaned out and fired once before being driven back again. “Gods damn it!” he shouted. “There’s too many of them.”

Callan stood, firing and walking backwards into the house. “You should go.”

“No.” He looked back at the rest of the crew. Valerie was pale and breathing hard. Aragam was covered in a sheen of sweat and busy trying to help the wounded. Setia was still sitting on the floor cradling her arm, ashen and shaking. “I can’t leave you.”

Callan reached into his coat pocket and passed tallis a redstone. “Damn it. You have to. End this.”

Tallis leaned out and fired another two rounds. An agent fell. Dead.

“I’m not leaving you. Not now. You need me.”

“The whole world needs you. If you take out those demons, you turn the tide of the whole war. That’s bigger than any one of us.”

“Too bad,” said tallis. “Either we all go or none of us go. If that means dying here then so be it.”

Callan pitched a redstone into the street, and it burst with a sharp crack. “Would you stop being so stubborn and let me do this for you? We sent word to border Fae. They’re coming, and the best I can do for everyone here is buy time. Please, Tallis, let me do this for you.”

Tallis bit back a curse and left his human shape behind, flitting out the door and into the air.

Below him Callan stepped out of the house, firing the machine gun from the hip. “My name is Callan Osmund,” he roared. “Justicar of the Winter Court. Send your best and I will cut them down!”

Tallis beat his wings and arced towards the Tower of Bone at the heart of the city. It was time to end this.