The River Fork Bridge was a marvel of pre-war engineering. It was a single, high arch of grey granite spanning a gorge that dropped fifty feet into the churning black water of the White-Rush River.

​It was sturdy, wide enough for two carriages to pass abreast, and currently occupied by two tons of mobile necromancy.

​Reed shimmied along the wet, mossy stonework on the outside of the bridge railing. His fingers dug into the cracks between the blocks. Below him, the river roared like a jet engine, sending up a spray of freezing mist that soaked his clothes.

​Don't look down, Reed told himself. Just look at the grease.

​He adjusted the heavy, stinking Bag of Holding tied to his belt. He had filled it with heavy river stones before climbing up the embankment. It weighed forty pounds and smelled like a garlic farm on fire, but it served a purpose: ballast.

​"You look ridiculous," Kaelen whispered from the bushes near the bridge abutment.

​"I look like a counterweight," Reed hissed back.

​He peeked over the stone railing.

​On the bridge deck, about thirty feet away, the two Siegebreakers were busy.

​One was kneeling by the central support pillar, fusing a glowing purple crystal to the stone. The Necrotic Charge. It pulsed with a sickening, violent violet light, ticking faster with every beat.

​The other was standing guard, its massive skeletal head swiveling slowly, scanning the tree line. It held a tower shield made of fused ribcages.

​"They aren't smashing it," Reed realized, pulling himself back down. "They're mining it. They want to blow the supports."

​Kaelen crept up beside him, keeping low. "If that charge detonates, the entire arch collapses. My army will be stranded on the South Bank for weeks."

​She gripped her sword hilt. Her hand was shaking slightly.

​"Two targets. Heavy armor. Strength advantage: Massive. Weakness: Low mobility," Kaelen assessed. "I have enough mana for three minutes of holy fire. You have…?"

​"Twelve mana," Reed checked his HUD. "A bag of onions. And grease."

​Kaelen sighed. It was the sigh of a woman accepting a terrible fate.

​"What is the plan, Avatar?"

​Reed looked at the bridge. It was narrow. It was high. And the stone cobblestones looked smooth and slick with river mist.

​He pulled out the Scroll of Grease he had looted.

​"Do you trust me?" Reed asked.

​"No," Kaelen said instantly.

​"Good. That makes this easier."

​Reed pointed to the center of the bridge.

​"You're the bait. You go out there, light up that sword, and make them mad. Make them charge you."

​"And you?"

​"I'm going under the bridge," Reed said. "I'm going to make sure that when they charge… they don't stop."

​Kaelen looked at the rushing black water below.

​"If I slip," she said, "I drown in full plate armor."

​"Then don't slip," Reed said, grinning. "Paladin's balance, right?"

​Kaelen stared at him. The moonlight caught the exhaustion in her eyes, but underneath it, the steel remained.

​"Very well. I will be the anvil."

​She stood up, shaking off the grey cloak to reveal her Silverite armor.

​"You be the grease."

​She stepped out of the bushes and walked onto the bridge, her boots ringing on the stone.

​Reed scrambled down the muddy bank, moving into the shadows underneath the arch.

​The Bait

​Kaelen didn't sneak. She walked with the rhythmic, metal-on-stone cadence of a marching army.

​She stopped twenty feet from the guarding Siegebreaker.

​She drew her sword. SHHH-ING. The sound cut through the roar of the river.

​"Abominations!" Kaelen shouted. Her voice wasn't a scream; it was a projection of authority. "Your march ends here! By the Silver Flame, I deny you passage!"

​The guarding Siegebreaker froze. It turned its massive torso toward her.

​Target Acquired, its necrotic brain registered. Threat: High.

​It let out a roar that shook dust from the bridge railing.

​"GRAAAGH!"

​The second Siegebreaker—the one with the bomb—stopped its work. It stood up, looming over the bomb like a jealous gargoyle.

​Kaelen raised her sword.

​[HOLY AURA: FLARE]

​She pumped a burst of her remaining mana into the blade. It ignited with blinding white fire, casting long, sharp shadows across the bridge. It was a challenge. A beacon. A middle finger made of light.

​"Come and claim your death!" she taunted.

​The Siegebreakers took the bait. They were constructs of war, programmed to destroy threats to the Necromancer. And a High Inquisitor was the ultimate threat.

​The guard roared again and began to charge.

​It didn't run; it thundered. Every footfall was a hammer blow. THUD. THUD. THUD. It lowered its shoulder, aiming to turn Kaelen into a smear on the cobblestones.

​Reed watched from the railing, holding the scroll.

​Wait for it, he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. Wait for the momentum.

​The Siegebreaker picked up speed. It was a freight train of bone and iron.

​Kaelen didn't move. She stood her ground in the center of the bridge, sword raised, staring down the charging monster.

​"Trust the grease," she whispered to herself.

​THUD. THUD. THUD.

​The monster was twenty feet away. Ten feet.

​"NOW!" Kaelen screamed.

​Reed popped up over the railing like a jack-in-the-box.

​He unfurled the scroll and slapped it onto the cobblestones directly in front of the charging Siegebreaker.

​[ACTIVATE ITEM: SCROLL OF GREASE]

​The magic triggered instantly. A ten-by-ten patch of the bridge surface shimmered. The rough, grippy stone vanished, replaced by a magical, frictionless oil slick that shone like a rainbow in the moonlight.

​The Siegebreaker hit the patch at full sprint.

​Physics took over.

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