The meeting broke up instantly. Knightshade and MaitreSteph ran from the hall, heading for the east wall. When they reached the south east gate, they climbed the steps leading to the top of wall. What they saw was indeed a nightmarish vision. Although the trees hid much of the area, many shapes could be seen wandering in the shadows. Skeletal warrior were the first to catch Knightshade’s attention. Bone white they were, their clothes hanging in tatters, their skulls grinning evilly at the town. With them were walking corpses. Warriors long dead, some with their death wounds still visible. At first Knightshade thought that normal men had joined the undead, too...until he saw their faces. They were ghostly, and glowed with a greenish light. They were wraiths, trapped within a human shell. There swords however, looked solid enough. Most of them wandered aimlessly through the Run, but a large group of undead, had gathered at the gate, only a few feet from it. And waited.   "Throw a fireball at them," Knightshade said. "See how they react."   MaitreSteph was quick to comply. Chanting softly he raised his hands and sent a ball of flame into the midst of the undead. Many fell to the ground in a charred heap, but they were soon replaced.   "Well we can kill them, at least," Knightshade said. "If kill is the right word. But they outnumber us badly."   "Why are they waiting there?" MaitreSteph asked.   "There’s your answer," Knightshade said, pointing eastward. A large troll like creature could be seen moving through the Run. It looked huge from a distance, but when it got closer, it was enormous. It was almost as tall as the town wall.   "An ogre," MaitreSteph said darkly. "This makes no sense. This is no random assault on the town. Something is controlling these creatures. Look...the ogre is going to break down the gate."   Knightshade watched in horror, as the Ogre raised a club the size of a small tree and brought it crashing down on the south east gate. The gate shuddered but held firm.   "We can’t let the gate fall," Knightshade said, his voice grim. "If they enter the town, all is lost. I’m going to organise a group to push them back. It looks like we can’t just stay inside the walls and wait this out."   MaitreSteph nodded. "Very well. I will use my magic to force the Ogre back. Be ready to open the gates when I call out."   Knightshade ran down the stairs, gathering everyone with a weapon in hand, and informing them of what had to be done. To his surprise, the people responded to his summons, and resolutely followed him. They gathered at the gate, just as the Ogre tried a second time to break it down. It held again, but it was weakening. Seeing that everyone was in position, MaitreSteph cast several light darts in rapid succession, wounding the Ogre and forcing it back. When it had retreated far enough he called out for the gates to be opened. As soon as it had opened far enough, Knightshade led the grim townspeople out into the open, filling the space that MaitreSteph had created for them. And the battle of Ratling Run had begun.   Some of the towns folk were trainee warriors, but most were peaceful folk, farmers, shopkeeps and tradesmen. But it always surprised Knightshade, just how much determination and fire could be shown by even the meekest of them, when their homes and family were at risk. The undead might not be able to feel pain or weariness, and maybe they were better armed, but they fell, like a scythe through wheat, at the hands of the inflamed towns people.   The ogre was a different matter, though. Knightshade found himself face to face with the creature, or more accurately, face to chest. It’s club looked as if it could pound him into the ground like a wooden peg. But he knew that if this assault was to mean anything, the ogre must be destroyed. It was large, but it was slow and Knightshade used that to his advantage, dodging and weaving, his sword slashing and stabbing at every opportunity. The creature was wounded, but possessed strength and endurance equal to it’s size. Already, Knightshade felt his sword arm tiring, and his footsteps were less sure. Eventually it took it’s toll and the huge club managed to clip him on the side, sending him flying to the wall. Stunned and dazed, Knightshade watched almost indifferently as the monster loomed above him, it’s club raised to squash him against the stone wall.   Once again, MaitreSteph’s command of magic came to his rescue. Lightning came thundering down from the clear sky above the ogre, biting deep and wounding it. It staggered about, clutching at it’s face where the lightning had struck. Leaping to his feet, Knightshade renewed his attack against the huge creature, but still it did not look like dying. Cursing the need for it, Knightshade recited a spell he did not enjoy casting. It was an evil spell, one he had learned from a dark mage, years ago, in return for a favour. Each time he had cast it, the mana he used felt corrupted and unclean. It was not a sensation he enjoyed. There was little in the way of a visual effect from the spell, except for a green cloud that momentarily surrounded the ogre. Soon, however, the ogre’s yellowish hide began to as green as the cloud, as poison attacked it from within. Feeling its life force slipping away, the ogre began to wander around in a daze, losing interest in the human before it. It had barely taken a few steps however, when it collapsed on the ground, squashing several of the undead behind it. It gave a final shudder, before lying still.   The ogre was dead, but the undead still threatened. Summoning his remaining energy and courage, Knightshade threw himself into the battle, his sword cutting a swathe through the undead that crossed his path. The towns people might have to struggle to beat these creatures, but Knightshade was well trained in combining steel and magic to defeat his enemies, and they fell before him. Weight of numbers told in the end though, and even he was not unscathed. Several times he felt the icy grip from a bony hand as it clawed at his face and arms. His armour was scratched and dented from wraith swords which bit deep, despite the insubstantial appearance of their wielders. Even the slow, clumsy zombies managed to connect a few times with their cold clammy fists.   Once the last of them had entered the town, Knightshade prepared to follow. A cry from MaitreSteph stopped him, however. The wizard was pointing to a figure to the south east. It appeared to be the last scout. Already, some of the undead had turned and were heading in that direction. When the scout stumbled and fell, Knightshade thought he was lost. He was too far away to offer any aid, without clearing a path with his blade. Just as the undead got within a few feet of the scout, he was pulled to his feet, although no-one could be seen. Knightshade squinted at the man, and was startled when he disappeared also.   "They are inside," MaitreSteph said. "You are the last, my friend".   Page 2 of 5   Previous Page Return to Index Next Page   This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page