Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"Their ring of blight has progressed a fair bit, huh?" spoke a man, voice muffled by thick iron.

"Indeed, I wonder… If it will climb up on the barrier, it is pretty high up near the shore…" similarly muffled, a woman responded, turning her gaze toward a third person sitting nearby, staring at the horizon.

"Much on your mind, Isilt?" Ilte poked the back of her trainee's helm.

The youth did not remove his eyes from the scenery, the job of those on the edge of the main camp was to look out for any approaching enemy, in the few days since the two gates had been breached and a gaping hole was left in the wall nearby, none even the slightest of shadows had appeared, all was calm, all was lull, all was heavy, all was dreadful.

"Yes… The undeads got past the wall after all, and not exactly with difficulty… I hear that our king has a plan in stock, but I wonder what can be done at this point, even if our full might was superior to that of the undead, they could still easily crush us with numbers-"

"Worried about your family?" Tarq spoke from the side.

"We all are" Ilte said, Isilt nodding his head, even if all had been told that the undead could not attack civilians, it was only natural that they felt fear at the thought of their defenceless loved ones having to exist side by side with the vile undeads.

"Do any of you know what this plan is, seniors?" the trainee asked, only met negative responses.

"We are not good enough to be privy to such details, we may have racked up some experience, but we are still just countryside patrollers, only Aramap and the king's guard could possibly know already" Ilte shrugged, even amongst the region's elite, there was disparity.

At the bottom, the trainees, then the patrollers, the war veterans and then the king's guard, with the king himself present, all of his guard was present around him, whoever wanted to point their blade at him would have to get through them.

"Yeah, and it's probably for the best, I don't want to deal with this sort of-" a ballista bolt whistled right past Tarq, all three of the knights turned to the direction it had come from.

"I almost just died, didn't it?" he muttered in a daze, no one listening as the sky darkened, various dark shapes getting in the way of sunlight, bolts, arrows, boulders, masses of rot, sparks, all sorts of things soaring through the sky side by side in a chaotic, yet perfectly calculated congress, if one were to lower their eyes, figures approaching from the ground instead also made their appearance, appearing equally all over the distance.

"Sound the alarm!" although a bit late, it was best to remind people as everyone was staring at the oncoming tides, both of which were steadily growing as they come closer, the heavy rain came crashing down first, soldiers and knights dismembered and crushed all around, this volley coming to an end as quickly as it had started, bursts of shrapnel, black blood, flames and miasma rippled over the green soil, further maiming and wounding those that had managed to escape the initial impact.

"Fall back!" with so many dead or injured, hoping to hold against the undeads was a fantasy only the likes of Aramap and Cleavster could indulge in.

"Get on your feet, rookie!" Isilt understood nothing, his ears ringing after he was thrown like a ragdoll by the blast caused by a bolt, he had thought himself lucky when one landed right next to him without tearing an arm or anything else, but the undeads were not prone to leaving their things laying around, the bolt erupting with a powerful explosion, disoriented and thrown out of balance, he had not idea whether something had broken but when Ilte pulled him up, he stood without pain.

Even if he could not hear, he got the message and began running, the murderous rain had hit most strongly upon the edges of their camp, coming from every side, over the wall and over the far horizon, weeding out the weakest of the army in one fell swoop, how the undeads could have possibly set up so many large weapons quickly enough for no one to notice, moved so many troops as well, that mere warriors like them could not bother to imagine it.

All of the survivors capable of it were retreating further into the camps, bringing the forces of the south into a tight formation, all were expecting another salvo to befell them, but it never did, instead, the familiar wall of interconnected shields marched upon them, locking the livings into a ring, shieldbearer moving away from the formation as it had to shrink, doing so seamlessly, barely leaving any gap for even one person to try and force through, not that it serve much purpose, undeads waited right behind, climbing upon the backs and shoulders of those carrying shields, moving into the ring.

Including Ourlst himself, accompanied by Sari, Erestel and…

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"You are facing Frenand, Champion Frenand, Frenand of the vanguard!" only held back as the left hand grabbed the undead by his small cape.

"Hold on for a moment, wait for everyone to get in place" Frenand stopped as he was ordered, itching to lunge into the fray.

A few more seconds passed, Ourlst rose his blade up, covering half of his helm, his other hand held up as well, as long as it remained raised, no undeads would attack.

"Alisart Cleavster, it is time for you to make a choice, will you fight, or will you put down your weapon? If you surrender, I will agree to allow those present here to leave with their lives, to keep breathing for a little while longer" he announced, but even amongst the shivering soldiers, no one even seemed to consider his proposal.

Truly admirable, this sort of bravery from livings, all were adamantantly convinced that they were prepared to die, they would only realise that their conviction was unfounded when it pulled them into oblivion.

"Are you not worried about yourself, undead?" the warking questioned, his blade already out of its sheath, definitely not willing to agree to Ourlst's proposal.

"We know of death's tenderness, and if it is fear of loss that you speak of, there is no need to worry, we shall not be defeated, for we are eternal, an enemy that will always come back… Can not be considered vanquished, can they?"

He brought his hand down.