The curse of the necromancer
"Arm the catapults!" roared commander fargon "quick they have almost reached the city gates!". two soldiers rushed pass the commander, and returned a second later rolling a black ball the size of a small child to the catapult the commander aggresively waved his arms at. these were times of war in the realm of xalintor and the city of cyranhad was in danger of being razed to the ground. fargon was under immense pressure to keep his soldiers from breaking down in fear and dealing with the oncoming army outside the city walls. but fargon wasnt about to give in to despair yet because he had a few more ideas for keeping them at bay long enough for reinforcements. "Fire!" in almost perfect sincronicicity a barrage of black balls fired high over the city walls, fargon stepped down off his viewing platform and moved to one of the holes on the walkways which were meant for archers and half-heartedly peered out hoping that his plan worked. there was a silent pause as the oncoming army stopped in fear and wonder of what the shadow swiftly blanketing the landscape whith a nightmarish shadow. as fargon watched the balls descend he didnt blink, he wanted to savour the screams and carnage. as the mass outside the city gates realised what whas happening they frantically parted,"shit" cursed fargon. only the slow witted soldiers didn't move in time and lucky for fargon that was about one third of the legion. the barrage crashed down upon the enemies crushing them with sheer weight and momentum, some soldiers were hit square in the chest killing them instantly and others got it in the head splatting those nearby with unrecognisable parts of thier fellow soldiers. the luckier ones came out with only broken bones but enough damage was done and they started to retreat.
"Yeah!" "whoo!" shouted the soldiers of cyranhad breaking out of their awestruck gaze of 'how did we just survive?' and ran along the ramparts to see their next orders from fargon. Fargon hadn't moved from his spot his composure unfaltering. Even with the largest suprises fargon always restrained himself from any celebration-his training always came in priority-and as the soldiers came running over fargon eyed them angrily "return to your posts, this battle is not over yet" the soldier faltered "b-but sir" fargon lost his temper "NO buts!", "you shall do as ordered or be hereby detained! is that clear?" the soldier straightened up more than normal "yes sir!" saluting the commander and ran back to his post. fargon scanned the mist that what was left of the enemy forces retreated into,'nothing' signs of fatigue was showing on fargon he wasn't as young as he used to be, fargon removed his helmet and long locks of silver hair tumbled down his shoulders. fargon is lucky enough to sustain any physical scars but what he has been through would break most men. "Dragon sighted!"came a high pitched voice. A little boy was waving his way through the still massed soldiers in the courtyard. he climbed up the worn ladder-slipping a few times from the mud-the boy looked tired as though he has come a long way. fargon let his gaze swerve towards the noise, a small boy wearing peasant clothes and a pouch strapped around his shoulder was running across the rampart in his direction, the boy ran up to a guard and a few seconds later the guard pointed towards the walkway fargon was standing on 'what now?'fargon wandered, 'was winning the current battle not enough?' but when the boy was close enough fargon spotted something unusual. there was a royal seal on the boys pouch. "message for commander fargon?" the boy inquired "here" fargon took the message and placed a silver coin in the boys still outstretched arm. "wow!" "a whole silver!"the boy skipped along back the way he came happy with the days work. fargon took off the wax seal on the letter which had the royal emblem of the house of drakenlord the letter read:
commander fargon, we have received your urgent message about the invading forces of the necromancer and we have immediately deployed our finest dragon rider,daniel ravenguard. by the time you receive this letter he should be close by. and good luck commander for cyranhad's sake.
king alastair
"ready the dragon keep" commander fargas said as he mounted his horse "a stable hand boy stared at him as if he has gone mad", "are you deaf?" fargon said he spurred the horse into action "and make it good or i'll be back for you" that got the boy moving, fargon allowed himself a small smile as he turned his back and rode through the city to the courtyard. when fargon got there he noticed the archers were firing arrows over the walls "whats going on?" he asked the nearest soldier "just a little target practice, there were still some alive enemy soldiers on the battlefield but barely" the soldier looked older than the rest and his arm was bandaged with a red stain showing through. "as you were" fargon said, the old soldier saluted and got on with his duties. as fargon was riding towards the city gate an archer on the wall suddenly shouted "their coming!" fargon quickly dismounted and climbed onto the walkway he pushed past the distressed archer and looked out into the mist. a mass of shadows was on the fringe of the ghostly fog. one stepped out of the fog and walked forward a few meters, it looked like a human but something was wrong there was some sort of distortion around him and his eyes were pitch black, he was draped in a robe which was torn and weathered. without warning the robed figure outstretched his arm and a ball of dark energy shot out and enveloped one of the archers, the archer screamed as his skin peeled off in bubbling patches and then he fell off the wall landing in the courtyard in front of the horrified soldiers. the cloaked figure motioned towards the gate and said "kill them all" and then the cloaked figure was lost in a wave of soldiers which was moving with an unworldly speed and before fargon could react the army had reached the gate.