( Meanwhile at Briarhelm )
At the same time that Uprising forces launched their attack on Fort Ironclad, another wave of destruction swept through the heart of the Eastern Duchy—and the home of the Eastern Duke, Briarhelm.
As the assault on the fort unfolded, chaos erupted simultaneously within the city.
Without warning, six fires blazed to life in key locations, shattering the morning calm.
The granary, the town hall, the library, the barracks, the city administration office and the sewage plant, were all engulfed in flames, marking the beginning of a well-orchestrated assault on the city itself.
*Sizzle*
*Sizzle*
As the fires raged, the infiltrators left behind a gruesome display. In front of each burning building, a message was scrawled across the walls in thick, dripping blood. The words left behind being clear and haunting:
"The corrupt nobles of this land will be judged for their crimes."
Beneath each message lay the bodies of the city's guards and soldiers—piled high in front of the flames like a grotesque monument.
The guards had been silently killed, their throats slit or their bodies crushed, and their blood was used to write the warnings. The sight was horrific, enough to freeze the hearts of any who saw it.
Civilians, curious at first, began gathering near the burning buildings, trying to understand what had caused the fires. But as they neared and saw the bloody writing and the bodies of the fallen, panic set in.
Gasps and cries of terror spread through the growing crowd, as the entire city was slowly thrown into chaos.
"By the gods... what is happening?" a woman whispered, clutching her child close as she stared at the bodies.
The message, paired with the sight of the dead soldiers, sent fear rippling through the citizens of Briarhelm, as within minutes, mayhem began to unfold.
Screams rang out as people ran from the scenes, desperate to escape the city now engulfed in fire and fear.
Meanwhile, inside the Duke's manor, the East Duke Victor remained unaware of the fires burning in his city.
Messengers were dispatched from various parts of the city, each one racing to the Duke's estate to bring him the dire news of the fires and the dead guards.
But unfortunately for them, none of those messengers were scheduled to make it.
As they rode through the city streets, they were quietly and swiftly ambushed by Uprising infiltrators disguised as ordinary civilians.
The messengers, expecting no trouble from the crowds, were taken out before they could raise the alarm, as blades flashed in the shadowed alleys, and blood spilled onto the cobblestone streets as one by one, the Duke's messengers fell.
The civilians going about their business in the streets continued, unaware that the person walking next to them could be an agent of the Uprising, as the infiltrators, dressed like ordinary townsfolk, melted back into the crowds, leaving no trace of their involvement.
Soon, word of the fires spread and panic began to ripple through the city's defenses.
Guards and soldiers, already spread thin due to the redeployment of many forces to the Demon front, found themselves overwhelmed by the chaos.
As they tried to rally and organize the crowds, another problem arose on the ethical question of who could they trust?
Uprising members, dressed as civilians, began attacking guards in the streets.
Some guards were stabbed from behind, their attackers blending into the crowds before anyone could react, while the others were assaulted in broad daylight, but by the time the defenders turned to face the assailant, they found themselves looking at a sea of ordinary citizens.
"Who did that?!" one guard shouted, clutching his bleeding arm as he scanned the street, his eyes wide with terror. "Which one of you did that?!"
The people around him backed away, their faces blank with confusion.
But the guard couldn't help but wonder if they were truly innocent or were they hiding something more sinister?
Unfortunately for them, no one could tell anymore, as even the civilians began accusing one another of being a rebel.
Soon, paranoia swept through the defenders, as soldiers hesitated to approach large crowds, feeling unsure of who was friend and who was foe.
Their orders were muddled, and with no communication reaching the Duke, the guards had no clear direction on how to proceed.
To make matters worse, the civilians of Briarhelm, already panicked by the fires, began to turn on the guards themselves.
Some took up arms, either incited by the Uprising's infiltrators or out of their own desperation, adding to the violence, as within just a couple hours, the once orderly streets became a battleground, not between armies, but between the city's own people.
The fires which once started at key locations soon started to spread to other neighboring buildings too, continuing to burn strong as the strong winds carried the flames further.
Meanwhile, inside the Duke's manor, the realization that something was terribly wrong began to dawn on him, though it came too late.
The lack of messengers, the distant sight of smoke rising over the city—it was only now that the Duke started to understand the scale of the disaster.
But the Uprising's plan was working perfectly. The defenders were too disorganized to respond effectively, and the fires, the killings, and the terror had done their job.
The city was in chaos, its morale shattered.
"What's going on here? Someone tell me what the hell is happening to my city?" Duke Victor screamed in anger, however, it wasn't until 20 minutes later that he got the very confusing preliminary report.
"What is this? Soldiers killing soldiers? Civilians killing soldiers? Soldiers scared to control rioting crowds?" Victor asked, as he slammed the report on his desk and looked at his scout with eyes of pure rage.
"Summon the bannermen! Summon them all.
Ask them to march to Briarhelm at once!" He ordered, as panicked by the situation, Victor played straight into the hands of the uprising.
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/// A/N - Chapter 3 of 4 for the day, Enjoy! ///