Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

The Northern Swamp was out of the race already, its fate already on its way, for now, they worked to perfect pyromancy.

The Eastern Peaks were only animated by Horhir and the work of the mining crew, carving a path right through the ground, homing in on the feasters in spite of any weather problem.

The Western Cliffs's surface was only inhabited by birds of prey and drylurkers, the people that had made their homes here were nowhere to be seen, whilst undeads with backs covered with feathers scoured the rifts, braving the depth and the malignant sludge that dwelled there.

The Southern Shores were deeply infested with the undead now, the farmlands were under their control, all fishing parties and harvests were done under their watch, documenting the exact number of fish and the amount of wheat they gathered.

Isilt and all the other warriors of the south began an operation that was much unlike them, trading their physical might and expert weapon handling for conniving tricks and underhanded methodology, seeking to strike the enemy from an unseen position.

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During the last battle, many soldiers and knights had lost their lives, but many had also escaped death, all of those that remained had either hid away somewhere, or concealed themselves away amidst the farmers and fishermen, they all hailed from such backgrounds originally, so all that they required was to efficiently conceal their true strength.

The assistance from the east showed its worth in this covert operation, but the meals they had provided allowed for the knights to be unnoticed by the undead, appearing like their fellow non-combatants, but of course, not very prone and perhaps not even capable, of engaging in feasting, they only used the temporary preparations, making it a finite resource, Derdlim Maulerd had been generous to the man she vyed to make hers, but on the scale of the south, it was still a small amount, meaning that soldiers and trainee knights like Isilt were prioritised, as they could pass off as regular folks without the aid of the meals.

However, Alisart Cleavster was playing a game he was far from familiar with, every step of the way was ripe with potential pitfalls and other traps which the south had to be careful around.@@novelbin@@

Only, that they were not aware that this sort of manoeuvres was what their main enemy, Ourlst, was most familiar with, the switch in strategies ordered by Loimos had been detrimental at first to the two knights, but now, the livings were assuming that Ourlst was the combatant and warmonger, whilst Horhir was the trickster and the underhanded tactics user.

The left hand was well aware that the south was challenging him on a ground he was most comfortable upon, but also that they were not aware of this fact.

"Sir Ourlst" greeting the lieutenant, a rank and file soldier set down a piece of parchment down, Ourlst was staring right at the farmlands, using a longview that was otherwise more effective than the one in use by the livings, he had deployed great crows, winged beasts of Loimos all around Cleavster's castle, this murder of rotten corvids sought to confirm whether the main players of this region were present or not, but as it was, any answer could be reached if Alisart or Aramap showed their faces.

Sight of them in armour had been caught for split seconds, but Ourlst was not willing to bet anything that this was actually them, they had already demonstrated the capability to falsify the impression of strength they emanated, this could easily be a trick.

Settling the longview away, the left hand grabbed hold of the parchment, which was a rather detailed record of a few livings, including a realistic drawing of their faces and a listing of all aspects of them, occupation, where they lived…

Each and every one of them were suspected of not being what they claimed to be, and right at the top of this suspect list, was Isilt.

"Would you get Frenand here?" he asked to another knight standing nearby, the undead bowing slightly and immediately moving to accomplish the order, normally, Frenand would be equipped with a communicative item, but in the hopes of maintaining a certain impression upon the enemy, Ourlst had ordered for communications to be done with minimal means.

Soon enough, the champion appeared, saluting his lieutenant.

"Good to see you, Frenand, how is it going on your end?"

"Well Sir, no incidents or accidents so far, the farmers are somewhat fearful but not full-on panicking, the young children in particular don't seem to realise the danger of us undeads… Are we to kill them as well?"

"Of course, it would be cruel to leave the youth outside of death's blessing, their growth will only be greater if done in undeath" Ourlst held up the piece of paper, pointing at the topmost person on it.

"You were the one to report this one, and it seems like you are confident in your guess, unlike the rest" there were quite a few livings on the parchment, but beside Frenand, none of the other undeads that had reported suspicious individuals were convinced one hundred percent, but of course, knowing Frenand, certainty from him was rather shaky.

"Ah… You want to know my reasoning? I swear Ourlst- I mean, lieutenant… You don't trust me enough, I know I give this musclehead impression but- Alright, I see that you want me to get on with it…"

"...This kid, he has the build of a warrior, and quite frankly, the face he made when I started speaking with him, it wasn't fear of an undead, it was fear of something else, like the one thing he didn't want to happen, had just happened! He paled like all blood was drained from his face!" he swung his arms around and clenched his fists.

"Mmh, because you see, I have had my eyes on this family myself" responded Ourlst as he rolled the parchment up.

"That Isilt's younger sister, one of them at least… She has been having strange movements, I was told, now, I must wonder, what if the south is using non-combatants to do their bidding- In that case, should they be considered enemies or not?

He can not just attack anyone randomly, this would be a breach of General Loimos's vow, and even if easily shattered, we have to maintain this appearance of nobility and honour, so as to not encourage the other continents to strike first, for they are surely scrutinising our operations closely…"

"...I want that entire family closely surveyed, but as sneakily as possible, of course, I want to know what is up with that Pitit, and of course, if your reasoning is based on your affinity to recognise warriors, then I can only imagine that this young man is truly a wolf in sheep's clothing"

Ourlst and Frenand exchanged a few more words, the latter ready to leave and go on with the new set of orders.

"And obviously, even if a living is proven to be a disguised knight or soldier, do not deal with them immediately, they could lead us to a bigger fish" added the left hand, Frenand nodding without stopping his movement.

Stepping to the side as he exited the room and shut the door.

"Well, I was not expecting a headhunter here, you have a report to make to the lieutenant as well?" Frenand asked, but only received an approximative nod, an action much harder to accomplish without any head or neck.

Laughing to himself, Frenand had never heard this one ever say anything, the headhunter in black could muster one word at most, and only one, whilst the ones in other colourations were supposed to be fully capable of thinking and holding conversations, but not the one in white, this guy was as mute as a wall.

"Well, good luck explaining anything without words!" he said, walking away with fast steps.