The hobgoblins never managed to do meaningful damage to the fortress walls. That did not stop them from trying. The assault continued for the entire day, an endless cycle of climbing, falling, roaring, and dying. The base of the bastion disappeared beneath layers of green bodies and broken weapons. Whenever one hobgoblin fell from the wall, another climbed over it. Whenever a ballista bolt carved a hole through the army, more creatures rushed in to fill the space.
The walls endured. The gate beneath Kael's position did not fare quite as well. It remained standing, but the ceaseless pounding had begun to show. Cracks spread through several of the thick wooden panels. One of the iron supports had bent slightly inward, and dust fell from the surrounding stone every time another tree-trunk club slammed into it. The gate would hold through this wave. Kael was less certain about the next.
