Articles

Fiction ...

Birth of the Dead

by Peter Juanchon

The wood elf scouts reported that there was a gathering of undead in the forest of Loren. According to what they saw, a couple of skeleton spearmen, and a regiment of freshly raised zombies made up most of the undead host. What frightened them most was the terrifying coach that suddenly appeared from the shadows together with restless spirits. Beyond the countless undead horde, the scouts saw what seemed to be three humans; two of them were dressed in dark robes and staves.

“They are necromancers,” said Willow Windbringer, the wood elves’ lord. “I thought so sir,” replied one of the scouts. “What about the other one?” “Sorry sir. We are not sure. The necromancers were blocking our sight. It seems to us that he was giving orders to those evil mages.” “A Vampire!! Quickly, what does he look like? Was he properly attired? Was he wearing armor or”...”Um, it was really (gulp) hard to say sir,” replied the scout while sweat pouring down from his face.

     Willow suddenly turned to one of his mages and asked about the status of their army. “Sir, we have a small detachment of archers and light cavalry. The good news is that we have two chariots and two groups of wardancers.” “Two of them?” asked the lord, as if surprised. “Yes sir!” replied by the other mage. “They just got here,” he added. Normally, the lord would have one of his mages lead the assault of this size. But the presence of the vampire shows that this undead horde should not be underestimated. Being under-manned himself, He decided to personally lead his noble warriors to battle. After a brief silence, he faced his mages and spoke in a loud, firm voice...”Assemble our brethren! We must surprise this abomination to prevent them raising more rested souls! We leave at dawn!”

     The day was dark, and the air was cold. Thunder and lightning crackles in the sky above them. Willow Windbringer feels that something evil is the cause of this unusual weather. “We must be near my borhters! I can smell their stench, that retched stench of death.” The wood elves finally reached the clearing in the forest, but were shocked to see that the undead were in formation.

     Zombies were positioned in the middle, on each side of them were the skeleton spearmen; on the right flank were those condemed spirits; and on the opposite flank was that horrifying coach. How could they have known they were coming, the lord could only guess. “We have lost the element of surprise! Steady yourselves and together, we will vanish this evil to their graves where they belong!” A series of command bellowed from the lords’ lips like the thunder above them. Then there was a moment of silence.

     The moment of waiting was broken when the undead host marched towards them. Surprised by their speed, the lord ordered his men to move forward and engage the enemy. Suddenly, black light started to crackle behind the undead line where the necromancers and the vampire were controlling their army. After a moment, bodies started clawing their way above ground and joined the marching regiment of zombies almost doubling their starting number.

     With a grin, the vampire raised more zombies just a few meters away in front of their highly skilled archers blocking their line of sight towards the main regiment. For the first time, Willow Windbringer knew whom they are up against. Seeing the way he move, the way he dress, the clever tactics, and most of all, that cocky attitude suggest only one thing... “Its Von Carstien, Peter Von Carstien” whispered the mage lord.

     It was not common to see vampire this far north but their presence was something that should not be ignored. Rumor has it that one of Manfred’s thralls was searching for one of their kind. During his search, he was able to convince a necromancer to join him. Following the footsteps of his master, the vampire named Peter Von Carstien studied the art of necromancy under the supervision of his new companion. His thirst for knowledge and power is unending, he quickly learned to control the undead: though not as strong as Manfred, Peter became powerful enough to be feared even by his kin. It is also rumored that it was he that Manfred entrusted with the task to hire the thief who stole Vlad’s ring. Though none of this can be supported by facts, it cannot also be ignored. Precaution should always be taken when faced with such evil.

     Willow Windbringer ordered his men forward to face the undead. “Ha! These mortal fools shall feel my wrath! They will be nothing more after this battle but new recruits!” said Peter. He ordered the Black Coach to charge the chariots but to his surprise, the ground where the Coach was turned into a marsh. Though one of the elf chariots turned around and fled due to fear, the other one continued its charge with unquestionable courage.

     The wardancers engaged the countless skeleton spearmen and lost, the restless spirit host holding off the light cavalry, their mages moving to strategic locations ordered by their lord. “Damn these elves!” thought Peter as he saw his Black Coach being destroyed by arrows, magic, and their remaining chariot. “The zombies are holding the remaining unit of wardancers! Charge the light cavalry!” roared the vampire count.

     The battle was indeed fierce. The elves were hacking the undead left and right; but each time, the necromancers raised more. Then finally, the courageous chariot broke through and killed one of the necromancers; while on the other end of the battlefield, the light cavalry decided to flee and were impaled by the spearmen. Peter’s eyes turned red and charged one of the elf mages. Seeing the vampire running towards him with unspeakable speed and fury, the elf decided to flee. As he turned his head he could not see the vampire.

     After a heartbeat, Peter landed behind him standing on top of his horse grinning as the vampire tore his body into two and drained the poor elf mage of his blood. After running over the helpless necromancer, the chariot continued its charge towards Peter as soon as they saw him slaughter one of their mages. Peter turned around held the rampaging horses at their necks and stopped the charging machine dead on its tracks. As the vampire slowly destroys the chariot, the sound of retreat was heard across the battlefield. The elves disengaged and disappeared in the shadows of the forest.

     Standing on top of the wrecked chariot with a mouthful of blood, Peter grinned as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle. Though he is victorious, his losses were great. But that didn’t remove his evil grin. As the remaining necromancer approached him, he said, “A minor setback”, turned around and went for his coffin.