by J. Langland
“Oh, crap,” Ramses said, staring in a different direction slightly to the north of the Citadel. A very large, feather-winged woman was rising into the air above the northern army.
“What is she?” Exador said.
“If I were to guess, and it’s only a guess, but I think that’s the Prophetess of Krinna upon Nysegard,” Ramses said.
Exador sighed. “I should not have said that, about things getting worse.”
“Yeah,” Ramses said. “Because I am seeing what I think are several other avatars emerging from the Citadel and they do not appear to be lacking for mana in any way whatsoever. They seem to have found a way around the beacons. All Holy Hell is about to break loose.”
“I hope the Storm Lords know what they are doing, because I really do not want to have to get my hands dirty here,” Exador said, his shoulders slumping.
Ramses chuckled. “Have I thanked you enough for the amulet?”
Above Battlefield, Talarius
As planned, Talarius and War Arrow dove towards the bulk of the heavy infantry, while each D’Orc, demon and D’Warg regiment peeled off to their assigned targets. Stainsberry and Mufasa were splitting off a bit, but would be staying nearby.
Are you ready? Talarius asked Ruiden as he drew the sword.
I think so. This will be only the second time I’ve ever done this, Ruiden said.
On the count of three, once you tell me you are ready, Talarius said.
A few seconds later Ruiden said, Ready.
Talarius raised the sword high and began spinning it in a circle above his head. One… two… THREE! he mentally shouted at his sword as he released it into the air towards the troops below.
Ruiden spun through the air far more graciously and on-target than any normal, well-balanced sword thrown in such a manner would have flown. As it reached a point approximately halfway between Talarius and the army below, a sudden massive CRACK sounded, followed by rumbling thunder as lightning arced from the sky and struck the sword.
As hoped and planned, Ruiden the sword golem was spinning through the air. As he flew, Ruiden reshaped himself into the spinning glaive formation he had used successfully against Exador. Moments later Ruiden hit the armed forces, a spinning wheel of carnage.
Talarius winced to see so many zombie parts flying through the air. He had to hold his breath as the stench from the already decomposing corpses rose from the ground, mixed with the putrid smell of zombie blood, spilled organs and other unpleasant corpse fluids.
Talarius nudged War Arrow, directing her to pull up. He twisted in his seat to reach for his Bow of Heaven that was secured to the rear of his saddle. He was very glad Iskerus had brought all of his equipment. Talarius moved the bow into position while murmuring the words of the activation ritual.
It was rather difficult to concentrate on the ritual due to the very screechy, albeit motivating, music coming from the Doomboxes. Tizzy, in his nasal and often raspy voice, was apparently the lead singer, screeching about his enemies being “thunderstruck.” He had no idea where the demon came up with such things.
Fortunately, he was able to get the bow active. The Bow of Heaven did not fire normal arrows; rather, it used Holy Lightning Arrows that were a reflection of his faith and his will. His will was certainly there; he only hoped his faith was still strong enough to launch the arrows.
Using his visor’s targeting mechanism, he drew on an important-looking vampire below and off to the right. It was a tricky target because the vampire was using its cloak to shield itself from the atunlight coming through the portal. He pulled back on the string, the magical arrow forming in position. Closer... almost… there! Talarius thought as he got a clean line of shot on the vampire’s chest and released the arrow.
The arrow sped towards its target and struck true. The vampire screamed and exploded exactly as Talarius had hoped. One vampire down; only what, sixty-thousand more to go? Talarius thought to himself.
Above Battlefield, Stainsberry
Stainsberry shook his head in amazement as Ruiden, the glaive golem, began his devastating assault on the army below them. That sword had to be one of the most devastating weapons he had ever seen. Intelligent, autonomous and nearly indestructible. What more could one ask for in war?
He turned his attention from the golem to his first target, one of the lich commanders on dragonback. Typically, it would be these liches controlling and directing the zombies. If you eliminated the commanders, the zombies would meander rather aimlessly. They were still dangerous, of course, but given their hunger and incredibly short attention spans—due to rotting brains—they were not a large military threat.
For this sort of work, Stainsberry brought forth his Staff of Blue Lightning. Liches were typically immune to electrical attacks. However, Blue Lighting, the Lightning of the Gods, was a different story; it was effective against pretty much every known threat in the multiverse. He had even used it against a Knight of Chaos once. It had saved his life.
“Ghairm mi a-nis an dealanaich de na diathan! Le mo bòidean a 'mhòid-cheartais, faodaidh cumhachd gorm fras dealanaich!” Stainsberry shouted as he pointed the end of his staff at his target.
The increasingly less-dark night air was split by a blinding flash of blue-colored lightning arcing from the end of his staff to the lich. As the bolt finished its arc, the lich and its dragon were outlined in small blue arcs of electricity coruscating across the two. As the arcs subsided and the rictus of the lich and dragon was released, the two quickly began plummeting out of the sky, trailing a large cloud of smoke from the lich’s charred clothes and flesh. It wasn’t easy to char the flesh of an icy-subzero lich, but Blue Lightning could do it.
Tower Roof, Death Cheaters
“The Storm Lords are attempting to bring their clouds between the portal and their followers, as we expected,” Karth Death Cheater, the newest D’Orc, observed.
“You two get to work. I will ensure that no one interferes,” Eldebra told her husband and son.
They had, naturally, anticipated exactly this move and so the Death Cheaters had set themselves up on one of the Citadel’s tallest towers, along with a wide variety of shamanic components and tools. Shamanism was particularly good at manipulating the weather, given their rapport with the Katsina, the Spirits of the Air. For someone who could befriend the Katsina, controlling the weather was far simpler, and more effective, than the wizardry used by the Storm Lords.
Karth and Valg began beating their drums even as their feet moved in time with the rhythm in the complicated dance pattern necessary to interact with the Katsina.
Citadel Battlements, Teragdor, Rasmeth
Teragdor and Rasmeth were once more on the battlements, moving up and down the wall as they ensured that all the troops were protected by the most powerful blessings and protection rituals available to an apostle. It was not glamorous, but the strength of their rituals was ensuring very low casualties.
The Unlife had increased their efforts to take the walls since this afternoon. They were no longer holding anything back. Even now, Unliving pterosaurs were dive bombing over the moat to ravage the soldiers.
Rasmeth raised his right hand, his Symbol of Torean clenched within his fist. He shouted and Holy Fire sprang from his symbol and struck the pterosaur on its long neck. The Unliving beast screeched in pain and scrambled to try to avoid the fire.
Teragdor, with the time that Rasmeth had bought them, finished his gestures and made his pronouncement, a Ban of Holy Righteousness. The pterosaur suddenly collapsed, it’s Unlife banished from the corpse.
“Chop that thing into little pieces so it can’t be reanimated,” Teragdor told the soldiers nearby. He wasn’t actually sure whether or not a corpse could be reanimated after a Ban of Holy Righteousness—having never done one before—but he figured it was not worth taking the chance.
Rasmeth had already moved on to the second pterosaur, this time managing to hit it in the eye, searing through it and burning out the brain. “Incredibl
e shot!” Teragdor shouted to the other apostle.
He glanced down off the wall to where one of the D’Orc regiments was clearing the field near the base of the wall. To say the view was incredibly surreal was an understatement. The D’Orcs were wielding insanely massive weapons that were out of proportion even to someone of their great size. He had no idea what sort of strength it would take to wield such weapons.
There was one D’Orc down on the ground simply spinning in circles, wielding some sort of cross between a sword and scythe. His circles were wide and he moved up and down among the Unlife, creating a massive swath of carnage. Bodies and limbs were rendered and then smashed on a second pass.
The problem with that, Teragdor thought, was that, in the case of zombies, their limbs were still active—at least until the head was destroyed. He blinked, realizing that behind the D’Orc with the giant blade, another, smaller D’Orc—a child D’Orc?—was coming along and stomping on and smashing any severed heads it found.
Teragdor shook his head and grinned. His grin faded, however, when he looked further down the wall, in the direction the D’Orcs had come from. Soldiers, most likely ghasts and ghouls, were shoveling the mangled zombie parts into the moat. If they managed to dump enough zombie mush into the Holy Water, it would become contaminated, allowing the aerial Unlife an easy route over the moat.
He gave Rasmeth a small thump on the shoulder and directed the other apostle’s gaze to the moat-stuffing ghouls. “We better head that way!”
Rasmeth nodded and said, “I’ll get word to Leighton. He can relay that to the Sky Wardens.”
Leighton was about a thousand feet north and two hundred feet above them, on one the Sky Warden’s MAHCs, Mobile Aerial Healing Carpets, which were extremely large flying carpets that served as flying triage and healing centers. The carpets were heavily loaded with protective spells to keep Unlife at bay and were manned by not only priests, but also by Brothers and Sisters of Krinna. Wounded Sky Wardens could either land or be brought to the carpet for healing.
MAHC Alpha-7, Leighton
Leighton thanked Rasmeth for the information and quickly threaded his way to Leftenant Tylyr Felbs. “Leftenant,” Leighton said to get the MAHC commander’s attention.
“Yes?” the leftenant asked.
“I just received word from the Apostle Rasmeth that ghoul soldiers are moving in behind the D’Orc carnage and shoveling zombie parts into the moat near wall checkpoint 34. They are moving down-wall to intercept, but wanted to alert Sky Command,” Leighton said.
Leftenant Felbs nodded. “Good—or rather, bad, but good to know. I will relay to Sky Command.” He shook his head. “I am unbelievably thankful for the return of the D’Orcs, but it would have been nice if we could have coordinated our work better, to avoid this sort of situation.”
“Indeed. However, compared to where we were this morning, I’m just grateful that we have the power to fly the MAHCs,” Leighton said.
The leftenant grinned broadly. “Leave it to a priest to always find reasons to thank the gods.”
Leighton chuckled, returning the grin. “We all play our own small roles in the gods’ plans.”
“Incoming!” one of the lookouts shouted.
Leighton turned to see a gryphon and rider coming in for a landing. Both were looking much worse for the wear. He moved in to assist once they were onboard. Brother Thelen was also readying himself. Leighton would work on healing the Warden, and Thelen would heal the gryphon. Once more, he was very relieved to actually have the mana to do this. He didn’t even want to try and imagine how bad things would have been if Lord Orcus had not come to save the day.
Knee-Deep in Zombies, Reggie, Boggy Estrebrius
“This is sick, man!” Reggie said with a frown, staring at the goo on his claws. He, Boggy and Estrebrius had gone out on their own to a less D’Orc-heavy region and were wading through undead, ripping them to pieces. At the moment they were wading through zombies and wights. The putrid corpses were really disgusting.
“When can we go back to ripping apart ghouls?” Reggie asked. “This is just nasty!”
“I don’t know. I like squashing the heads between my claws. It’s like squishing rotten cantaloupes or pumpkins!” Estrebrius said.
“Remember not to breathe!” Boggy shouted as he broke a zombie in two over his head.
“Definitely!” said Estrebrius. “Half the nasty is the smell!”
“It’s hard to talk if I don’t breathe!” Reggie yelled back.
“Breathe through your mouth,” Estrebrius suggested.
“Be careful though; I was doing that and ended up swallowing some intestinal splatter,” Boggy warned as he shook his head.
“Hey, is Tizzy going to join us?” Reggie asked. “He’s no longer singing; it’s been all instrumentals for a while now.”
Boggy paused and a zombie tried gnawing on one of his wings. “I would think so.” He frowned. “Normally he enjoys this sort of thing as much as the next demon! I wonder why he hasn’t shown up?”
“His loss!” Estrebrius shouted in glee has he smooshed two severed zombie heads, which were gnashing their teeth in frustration as they tried to bite him, together between his two hands. Reggie winced at all the rotten brain goo dripping through the demon’s fingers. Things seemed so much cleaner in zombie movies. Well, most zombie movies—that guy with the chainsaw hand splattered lots of goo, and his zombies could also remote control their body parts.
Battlefield, Tom
Tom released the flame from the Rod of Tommus and watched the smoldering remnants of the lich he had spent the last few minutes barbecuing flutter to the ground. Or sprinkle to the ground, as he was mostly dust. The problem was that simply incinerating a lich would not slay them.
He and Talarius had touched base about an hour ago, and the knight had told him that liches were problematic because the source of their immortality was a phylactery that contained their vital organs. Until one destroyed the phylactery and the organs, the lich could eventually return. Typically, Talarius informed him, the lich’s spirit would seek to possess someone’s body and then use that body to capture, kill and embalm a new body for it to use.
So, in many ways, this was futile from a long-term perspective, but it was more pleasant than fighting ghouls and ghasts, which looked like normal, living people. Flesh-starved, insane people, but still people. Zombies and most of the other animated undead seemed to be easy enough to leave to others. Thus, he’d been seeking out liches and larger threats. He’d run up against a few vampires, but none had presented too much of a challenge. The liches and their ice dragons could at least put up a fight using wizardry.
Tom glanced to his portal. Night had finally come to the Isle of Doom, so he closed the portal. He didn’t want any of the flying corpses to make their way through the gate. He looked around for his next target. There we go! he thought, spotting a zombie dragon. He wondered if they were flameproof? Actually, thinking about it, how could you have a zombie dragon? Dragons were demons. His very first fight had been with a dragon, whose cave he had stolen. Tom frowned at the memory. He still felt guilty for that, but fortunately he’d been assured that the death would not be permanent. That was what was puzzling—if dragons were demons, then why were there dragon corpses to reanimate? Well, time to find out. Tom took off towards the zombie dragon.
Knee-Deep in Zombies, Hilda
Hilda and her squadron, Shield Sarjeant Jacob Holspice’s squadron, were making their way through the D’Orc carnage outside the moat. She had specifically requested to work with her friends from a few nights back. Unfortunately, that meant that the squad had had to wait on her, although she suspected having the direct protection of a Saint of Tiernon in your squad was probably more than enough to assuage their impatience for battle. She chuckled at her own humor. She knew full well it did.
Hilda had been delayed several hours in taking to the field simply because she, Stevos, Inethya, and Timbly had been too busy fielding links and illu
mination streams to be able to actually go into battle. However, after a few hours, enough other avatars of all Five Siblings had finally made it to Nysegard, and so the avatars at the Citadel had been able to hand off streams.
This was going to turn out to be a big presence and in fact, a very unprecedented presence. The Siblings were not only sending archons to other locations on Nysegard; shortly before they left other saints had begun coming from their new locations on Nysegard to the Citadel. She and Stevos had worked to bring up two Saintly Gateways to other locations on Nysegard. The first saints through would set up additional gateways, while local commanders would fill them in on the status and needs for battle.
The current plan was to launch a dozen saint-led squadrons to go after the vampires and vampyrs, along with the ghasts and ghouls shielding them. One good thing had been that Orcus’s sky portal to the Isle of Doom had swathed a large section of the battlefield in atunlight, forcing the vampires, vampyrs and other daylight-sensitive Unlife to try to seek shelter and save themselves, and so kept them from battle.
Now that night had come to the Isle of Doom, and the portal was closed, the vampires and their forces would be out in force, and the ghasts and ghouls who had been left in some disarray by the atunlight would be far more organized and dangerous. Which was fine; the portal had bought them the time needed to get the streams stabilized and new saints onto the battlefield.
A guttural screech above her made Hilda glance up quickly in surprise, only to see a very large orc zombie flying overhead. Apparently it had been batted like a ball through the sky by one of the D’Orcs to their right with their incredibly oversized weapons. She stared in awed amazement at the giant winged demons.
To think, only weeks ago they had been scrambling in fear of what these returned D’Orcs might be up to in Astlan, and today? She was wading her way through mushed zombie parts side by side with D’Orcs. Hilda shook her head, looking up to where Orcus was wrapping an extremely large pterosaur in golden chains from his Wand. If anyone had told her even two days ago that the Demon Prince Orcus would actually be leading the forces of the Five Siblings into battle, she’d have had them committed to one of the Sisters’ sanitariums.