Slave Knight Gael
"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown."- HP Lovecraft
The last of the pigmy kings lay dead on Gael's time worn executioner's sword. The blood on the corpse, nothing but black dust, dried up eons ago. Gael looked up to see the ashen one on top of the hill before him. Looking at him in horror at what he had become. All Gael could think was that the ashen one had brought him fresh blood… the blood of the dark soul. As the ashen one and Gael danced their duel of steel and death, there was a small part of gale that knew that this was wrong, and not who he was. But who was that…..
Thousands of years earlier in the age of fire during the reign of gods.
"How in Gwyn's name am I going to get out of this prison cell and by extension out of this hell hole?" Once his community discovered that he had the dark sign curse it was not long after that the local lord had Gael escorted to the undead asylum to live to the end of time and eventually go hollow. Even his own brother turned his back on him. So much for family he thought.
Gael heard the sound of footsteps on the stone floor coming down the hallway, probably the jailor coming to mock him with a leg of lamb in his hand, and eat it in front of him savouring the delicious meat and make the usual cruel jest to Gael. "That he should not worry as hollows don't need food." Gael swore as soon as he escaped from his cell he would grab whatever piece of meat the jailor had and he would make sure that, that fat, greasy excuse for a human would suffocate on that meat. To his surprise it was not the jailor but a priestess from the way of white, escorted by two silver knights. The priestess spoke to Gael. "To your feet undead, as today may be your lucky day. You have been conscripted to serve in Gwyn's army." Gael looked at the woman perplexed and was suspicious as to why they had come for him. Gael got to his feet and stretched his arms out, flexing his muscles, which had atrophied a bit due to inactivity in the cramped cell. "Why have you come for me? Surely there are others you could have picked?" One of the silver knights looked irritated that a priestess was being questioned as he started to grip the shaft of his spear more tightly, making a creaking sound as his gauntlet rubbed against the wood. The priestess raised her eyebrow as if she were addressing a simpleton.
"I read your file. You were once a man at arms for your lord and have experience in combat, as well as leading troops. You and others like you are being put into a new regiment for our lord Gwyn. Now, we are going to open the door, you are going to step out and proceed with us. We will take you to base where you will receive training and equipment. I do not expect any deviations from this. Am I clear?"
Gael nodded. "Crystal clear." The priestess smiled, but not the warm loving kind, rather that of a wolf that knows it has its prey right where it wants it. "Good." The Priestess produced a key and opened the cell door. Gael stepped out, wobbly at first but then was capable of taking full strides after a few shaky steps. As they made their way to the exit they passed the jailor siting at his desk gnawing on a beef bone trying to suck out the marrow. Gael moved at lightning speed and slammed the bone into the jailors throat with enough force leave the beef bone protruding out of the back of the jailors neck. The jailor died within seconds, the last thing he saw was the hatred in Gael's eyes.
Gael looked back at the two knights and priestess expecting to be beaten for his actions. Instead the priestess gave a look of indifference. "His gaze lingered to long on my body for my liking anyway." And continued walking towards the exit. Having gotten his vengeance Gael stepped away from the corpse and followed the priestess with the two silver knights behind him, only now a bit more on edge.
The journey from the Asylum to Lodran took a month on horseback. In that time he had trained with the two silver knights, learned what had been going on in the world since his incarceration which had been for twenty years, yet did not feel that long. Gael had even got the rather cold Priestess to mildly warm up to him and teach him a miracle that was called the Way of White Corona. There were many questions that Gael asked, some involving the way of white others about his traveling companion's personal lives. He found out that the silver knight with the spear was named Igwald and had a child that was near to being born, He wanted to rush this trip so he could make it back to Anor Londo before his child was born. The other silver knight who wielded a sword and shield was named Dagg and he was a bit harder to talk with, most of his thoughts were of devout religious fervour. Gael would not be surprised if Dagg was getting it with the Priestess. They had traveled from town to town and stayed at inns. The priestess gave her blessings unto the people and conducted sermons to the crowds of faithful. Gael always stayed at the back but chanted along with everyone else, he had faith but did not want to be noticed.
The group had finally made it to their destination. Gael's muscles had grown strong again from the activity and he was ready for what was to come… Or so he thought. The base was set up on a flat grass land with little in the way of trees if any. The few buildings that were there were single tiered and made from imported wood. The rest of the place was filled with tents, there had to be several hundred of them. Uniformed and colour coated to signify regiment.
The trio that had picked Gael up had now brought him to the sergeant at arms. Another undead. He wore a red cloak over black plate armour that covered him from neck to toe in metal. His face denoted all the personality of a stone. In a harsh tone of voice that was seeped with disgust he addressed Gael. "Hmm. Another from the asylum is it? Have you any combat experience or are you another useless sack that needs to be disciplined, taught not to hold a weapon by the pointy end and how to wipe their ass."
Gael bristled at the sergeant's question, letting his ire towards the sergeant show on his face, standing tall and keeping eye contact gale answered. "Before my imprisonment I was a man at arms in my kingdom and a veteran of many battles. I have survived where few have and now will serve in Lord Gwyn's army, bending my arm to his will." The Sergeant's lips turned to a cruel looking smile. "Then you will do just fine here. Your tent should be three regiments down, but before you go there head to the second building for equipment and further instruction." Gael nodded and walked on.
Opening the door Gael saw rack upon rack of varying weapons but the armour was all the same, just in different sizes. A half-naked blacksmith, with his apron on, with white hair tied back and a thick grey beard approached Gael. Sticking his hand out to shake. Gael took the man's hand and was nearly crushed by the bull like strength that matched his physical form. "The name's Andre and I'll be armin ya." Gale stood there for a moment, perplexed. He thought it was more of a just grab the armour and weapon that best fit him and make adjustments along the way. Andre went back behind his counter to grab a measuring string and came back to Gael.
"Now Stan Still with y'er arms spread out, while I get y'er dimensions and I'll forge your armour." Gael did as instructed and Andre measured nearly every dimension of him. "Why do you need to measure every part of me? Why not hand me the closest fit and send me off?" Andre looked Gael in the eye and the look on Andre's face told Gael that he said something rather stupid and insulting to the black smith.
"I take pride in my work, I am not some village apprentice, I was brought to service for my skill. I want you to have the best that I can produce, to keep you alive for longer. In proper fitted armour you can fight better, be more comfortable. You clear on that?"
Gael nodded his head in earnest. "Good, would not want to see you go hollow. Now put your hands down and take a gander at the weapons racks and test a few out to find the one you like the most. Andre walked to the back of the shop where Gael could not see him and within moments heard his hammer forging metal in to place. Walking over to the weapons racks Gael saw all kinds of maces, swords, axes, hammers, knives and shields. At first Gael picked up a morning star and tried a few swings with it. The balance was good and felt good in his hand but it did not feel like his thing. He moved on to a halberd. The axe, spear and hammer combo of it made it fantastic for utility and keeping your opponents at bay but Gael was just not as comfortable with them. Next gale tried an axe and shield combination that had a good flow with is movements but lacked the reach he wanted. Finally Gael came to a Great sword, the blade was broad all the way to its end which was not that of a point but rather a sharp flat edge. It looked heavy and meant for cleaving rather than cutting. Figuring he would be fighting demons, this was the type of weapon he wanted. Picking it up out of the rack and placing it in both hands it felt right, the strength of it and a few test swings to get the feel of it proved to gale that this is what he was looking for. Gael near jumped out of his skin when he heard Andre come up from behind him. "That there's an executioner sword. Not sure how it will fare against demons but the weight of it should do the trick."
That alone put a smile on Gael's face. "If I'm to be a killer for the gods, I might as will wield a weapon perfect for what they want me to be." Andre laughed, and it was an infectious one as Gael started to laugh not knowing why. He had meant every word of what he said but maybe it sounded too serious.
"That is a good one, never have I heard a line like that, and I have outfitted this entire army. Now your armour should be ready in a few more hours so I'd suggest you sit tight and relax, as this may be the last bit o' rest ye get for a long time."
Andre went back to his blacksmithing while Gael sat on a bench. Every now and then Andre would come out for a quick chat then go back to forging.
When Andre came back out he held a full suit of plate armour, the colour was dark grey and embroidered. Gael put it on and it fit perfectly, with full range of motion and flexibility, it felt like having a second skin. Andre smiled as Gael tested it out and used the sword in conjunction with the armour. "How do ye like it?" Gael was enamored with it. "I love it, I might never need a new suit of armour ever again." "Ha ha ha. If ye take care of it, and polish, it will last you a life time. So treat her well, I hate to see my work squandered. And don't forget this." Andre pinned a red hooded cloak to the armour. "This should keep you warm and the rain off your head on the long marches. The next thig for ye ta do is to get to your tent where you will find your next instructions." Gael thanked Andre and went off to find his assigned tent.
It took a bit of time to find his tent among all the others but when he did there was a message pinned to it with his name on it. The message was short and to the point. An itinerary list for training, eating, sleeping and free time. The list spanned the week and was repeated for the next three weeks of training. In the days that followed Gale realized how right Andre was when he told him to rest when he could because there would be little of it in training. For the first week he was taught how to march in formation, basic drills and so forth. Things he already knew form his previous experiences in war. Second week was field tactics, cooperation and appointment of squad captains. Gael had made enough friends in this time, and was already training others on the side, so it was no surprise that he was automatically elected as his squad's captain. It was at the point that other captains deferred to his judgment on a few situations.
By the end of the third week Gael had his men acting in a professional fashion, where they had effective coordinated attacks, proper communication and tactics. Other squads would try to test their metal against them in training matches. None of them succeeded but Gael would still offer pointers to how they could improve. By the end of the third week a general assembly was called. Fifteen hundred men lined up in front of a stage with no idea of what was happening other than that they were to receive an ale ration after.
Trumpets blared and the sound of snare drums rolled as Lord Gwyn walked up on to the stage. He was the personification of sunlight and cinder. A sunburst crown around ash grey hair that fell around his shoulders regally, with a long beard that accented his features to lend the visage of a wise ruler, and a kindly uncle. The armour he wore was that of dark cloth and a black kilt. Leather boots and gloves would help him move quickly with his ultra-great sword that hung on his back. There was a silence of anticipation where no one wanted to miss a word of what was about to be said.
"Good afternoon Men. You have been selected and trained to be my vanguard troops on the front lines in the war currently ragging in Izalith." The men stiffened at the thought of going to Izalith. Gale knew about the war and that Izalith had demons amongst their ranks, most of what he was told was from a friend of a friend but now he was hearing it straight from the source. "We have had losses but with some progress against Izalith and her demon's but it is you undead who can turn the tide of war to complete victory. You who cannot die but rise again and again to smash through the horde of monsters that threaten our homes, our families and our very way of life. Should Izalith win; there will be nothing for us but ruin and chaos, an age of fear and oppression. Stand with me and Fight with me so that we do not fade into the dark and burn out of existence" Gwyn yelled in declaration. "We will not go quietly into the night! We will stand at the front as the shields that protect civilization from extinction! WE WILL FIGHT!" Gwyn drew his sword from his back and raised it above his head as it came alight and was wreathed in flame.
The crowd cheered and roared, raising their weapons, clanging their shields and started chanting GWYN! GWYN! GWYN!. Lord Gwyn walked off stage and left the area with an entourage of his silver knights. Then Colonel Flyn walked up on stage. In a booming voice that everyone could hear over the cheering "MEN! You have been given the situation. Tonight, you will receive ale rations and tomorrow we start our march to link up with the second army group to march on Izalith. Drink up and make merry for tomorrow will mark the start of our war. Now file out." IN order the fifteen hundred men left the field and went to the feast tent to receive their ale ration and a lamb to cook over the camp fires. The night was jovial and many would have a head splitting hangover come the rising of the sun. Gale spent the time raising the moral of his squad and telling jokes, sharing stories. A few brawls broke out and were quickly ended but most were hiding their anxiousness to be on the road and the tickling of fear in the back of their minds of what they were to face.
Morning broke and the men struck camp. Packing their travel bags and loading the supply caravans with food, tents, tools and equipment that would slow their march. The only things they carried on them was their armour and weapons. The road they walked was paved for quicker movement and the weather was cooperating for a pleasant autumn march. The fifty miles for the rally point seemed far at first but with a steady pace it took two days to get there and link up with the army group. Gael was in awe to see the size of it. It stretched for miles overt the rolling hills. While marching in detail there looked to be over thirty thousand soldiers in this core alone. At the front was Gwyn and his silver knights with the setting sun making their armour glow in the reflection of light. There were a variety of soldiers, pike men, bowmen, swordsmen, cavalry, and engineers in the back. Most of the armies Gael had been in were not much larger than five thousand. How were all these men and animals fed and cared for on long marches and campaigns. Being told that they were in the vanguard Gael thought his section of the army would be marching in the front with Gwyn's elite troops but when he received orders to march in the rear guard with the baggage train, Gael felt it was like a slap in the face to the pride he had felt earlier and looking about he was not the only one that felt that way. At the end Gael understood that orders were orders and had to be obeyed, returning to the prison cell from whence he was dragged out of was not an option. The undead regiment fell into line in the back. They marched for several more miles and through the night. They had stopped once in the night to rest for an hour and were back on the march. The army came to a halt near the border of Izalith. The scenery had changed during the march from rolling hills and farm land, to forest and creeks, to now barren and sandy. Rivers of lava flowed through the landscape, superheating the sand around it to create a molten rock. Under his armour Gael was sweating and could not imagine what the sliver knights in their heavier armour felt like. Crom nudged Gael, taking his focus off the landscape. "This place is a heat house. I could spend a month in here and lose twenty pounds." Gael shook his head with a smile. "Pray that we do not spend that amount of time and that this will be a quick campaign where we earn accommodations enough to keep us employed and out of the asylums." Crom grimaced at the thought of the cell he had been put in to and the cell mate he had in there that had gone hollow but thankfully not violent. The further they marched in to Izalith the more difficult it became for the caravan wagons to traverse. The undead were ordered to help push the wagons when they got stuck. More and more Gael came to see how little his regiment was valued.
A week had followed on the march, heavy slogging and harsh the environment caused a drop in some of the numbers in the force. None were from the undead regiment. The score or so that did drop from heat stroke were from the infantry solders that were farmers and city dwellers that had no real experience in harsh conditions. Early in the day just after the break of dawn when the army had started what would be its last leg of the march to the gates of Izalith Gwyn had received a report from his scouts about the defences that were being mounted at the gates of Izalith….
Gael received orders that were being passed down the line that they were to march ahead of the army to the gates of Izalith and begin the engagement while the main force assembles and ambushes the defenders during the battle. Gale mustered his troops along with the other squad leaders and went to collect their weapons and armour. Crom was once again at Gael's side. "Looks like we are going to be put to use in the front line after all. I was getting tired of the waiting for something fun to happen." Gael gave Crom a concerned look. "What, you are telling me that you enjoyed being in the back with the baggage train and having to do all the heavy lifting?" Gael shook his head. "I did not find much joy in the back of the army as you said but for what is to come, I do not look entirely forward to." Crom laughed and pated Gael on the shoulder. "Come now. We are going to slay a vile host of demons and make legends of ourselves." Gael chuckled. "That we are, so get your gear and let's move out." The regiment moved at double pace to be ahead of the army and reach the gates a few hours before the main force did.
When the regiment arrived a few hundred feet from the gates they were greeted by a host of Capra and Taurus demons. The Capra's were close to nine feet in height with bull like skulls, athletic, muscular bodies, bone tale, and held two large machetes that were crudely forged giving the weapons a much more brutish look. The Taurus demons were enormous, near three times the size of the Capra demons. Muscles the size of ancient tree trunks covered in a light brown fur, a large humanesk skull with Ram horns and glowing yellow eyes full of hate. These giants wielded two handed war axes that looked to be made from bone. Where there had to be at least seven hundred Capra demons and there were two score of Taurus Demons. Colonel Flyn ordered the men to form battle lines. The ranks divided in to sections of five hundred with each section having a spear men at front swords men behind them and archers in the back.
When the formations were set up, Flyn marched in front of the regiment to deliver his speech. "Today we prove what the Undead can do. We have been judged as the underdogs and good for nothing more than softening up the enemy. TODAY WE PROVE THEM WRONG! TODAY WE SHOW WHAT UNDEAD ARE CAPABLE OF AND WHY WE SHOULD BE FEARD! TODAY WE FIGHT!" The Regiment let out a united battle cry that carried through the air. The horde of demons let out their own roar in retaliation that reverberated off the walls of Izalith and echoed over the plain, then they surged forth.
Gale could feel the earth beneath his feet tremble at the sheer weight of the approaching force and knew that it was going to hit with a mighty impact. Flyn was heard over the thunder of the charging horde, giving orders to his archers. "Knock! DRAW! LOOSE!" The first volley of arrows flew into their targets sending a wave of the monsters to slam into the earth with a few others behind tripping over the fallen. "KNOCK! DRAW! LOOSE!" Like a well-oiled machine the archers fired volley after volley with well-timed discipline and precision; scything through row after row. Yet for every demon that fell it seemed another took its place in an unstoppable tidal wave. Gale counted down the distance. Fifty feet... Forty feet... Thirty... Twenty. Flyns voice was heard again. "LANCES!" Right when the horde was upon them the spearmen in front row planted the butt of their spear into the ground and braced for impact. The first line of Capra demons impaled themselves on the spears, unable to stop in the full weight of the charge. The second line hopped over the spearmen only to be met by the second row of swords axes and other weapons for short range. There was just enough space for Gale to swing his executioner sword. Carving through a Capra demon, cleaving it from shoulder to hip. It hit the earth with a thud and in nearly two pieces. Gale had no time to marvel at his work as another Capra landed in front of him. Bringing his sword in upward slash the blade cut through it torso and smashed through its jaw with enough force to send it sprawling backwards.
A spearman just to Gale's right was hacked down by one of the Capra demons. The man behind buried his axe into its skull, splitting the bone like a log. With black blood spraying the axe man the beast fell to the ground and the spearman got up, the wound stitching its self-back together and leaving a scar where the great machete had cut him. The blow would have killed any mortal instantaneously but that is where the undead had the advantage… you can't kill what is cursed to never die. Every time one of the undead was hacked down or crushed, he would get back up as if nothing had happened to him and continue fighting with more anger. Gale was no exception to this as he had puncture marks in his armour from where he had been gored, his breastplate dented from a kick that would have crushed his ribcage but he continued fighting.
Slowly but surely the tide was turning and the demons were being grinded down by a foe that could not be slain. The regiment advanced step by step scything through the horde leaving a pile of bodies on the ground. Fyn was heard giving new orders. "MID RANKS! FLANK!" The mid sections of each block went to the sides of the battle lines, creating wing like formations on the left and right. They started to push hard on the horde to encircle the demons, giving the horde little to no room to maneuver. Not even the mighty Taurus demons could swing their great axes without inflicting friendly casualties. Gale heard the sound of trumpets blast through the air looking behind to see where it came form he saw Lord Gwyn's elite silver knights in battle formation marching at the head of the main army with the battle standard in tow.
At this point the demons were being pushed back to the gates of Izolith. The giant doors of the city opened and bursts of fire came spewing out. Great fireballs arced overhead, slamming into the undead regiment. Gale could smell the flesh being burnt and it was noxious to the point where Gale wanted to vomit. It was in this borage that what was left of the demon force retreated back into the sanctuary of the cave city. Before the regiment could regain its composure the horde fled and the gates were closed again, leaving them standing in the wake of destruction. That is when gale heard the cries of pain coming from his comrades that had been hit by the pyromancies. It was one thing to be hit with physical weapons, but when fire magic gets put into play, it hurts and the burning sensation doses not stop till estus is consumed. The soldiers that were available fashioned stretchers out of their cloaks and carried the men afflicted by the fire assault to the main army where medics would have estus on hand. Gale kept his men on ready while they waited for the next set of orders. Colonel Flyn Ordered the regiment to fall back and regroup with the main army, to take a well-earned breather and wait for new orders.
Gale returned to the main force and saw Flyn and Lord Gwyn talking. He presumed that it was planning for the next stage of the fight, either way he had done his part and needed a rest, no matter how temporary it was. At the back of the army, supply stations, medical tents and rest stations were being set up. Gale saw a few of his friends siting at a bon fire, already taking strips off a haunch of meat and talking amongst themselves. Gale sat to chat with them and see how they were doing. As he talked and laughed with them he noticed that something was off. Some of the stories they told they forgot parts of, and these were stories he had heard them tell many times before with no detail left out. Things that were important to them that were slightly forgotten. Gale was worried a little but pushed it to the back of his mind, labelling it as nothing more than battle fatigue. A loud boom cracked the air, Gale turning his head saw bolts of lightning assailing the gate of Izolith. Lightning cast by Gwyn and his knights slammed on the door, blasting off chunks of stone with each strike. It would only be a matter of time before the door was completely obliterated. "So do you think we will be recognized for our gallantry in battle, and be rewarded for it?" asked one of the soldiers. Another one responded in a much more cynical tone. "Like hell we will. We were used as nothing more than fodder to the great lords. Our only reward will be the release from this enslavement." Gale needed to quell the discontent quickly as it could spread like wildfire and cause an outright mutiny. "Greg. This war has only started for us and we have won our first fight against overwhelming odds. Lord Gwyn will recognize us. You will see." Gale patted Greg on the back and walked off to check on other men. A few times Gale ate with the men and shared a drink. A couple of hours had passed and still no word for the next orders. In the distance Gale could still hear the pounding of lightning at the doors of Izolith…you would think they would have brought siege engines for this reason gale though. A runner came to gale delivering a scroll; before Gale had the chance to ask who it was from, the runner was already twenty yards away delivering his next message. Gale opened the scroll to read it as a unit citation and recognition for being the first to engage the foe and drive it back into its lair. Gale noticed that it was being given to all unit leaders for recitation to the lower ranks. It was perfect timing to quell any thought that the Undead unit was unappreciated and used it to his advantage when her recited it to those under his command.
The second day of the siege Gale stood at the front of the battle lines, staring down the near shattered gates of Izolith. Behind him were the silver knights that had volunteered to be in the front lines to earn their battle honors. "HEY! PRISON BITCH!" Gale turned around to see a silver knight waving at him. "IGWALD?" The knight pushed his way through the formation to stand beside Gale. "I thought you would be at home enjoying the company of your child and wife? And speaking of, how is your child doing?" Igwald shrugged. "My wife and child are fine, ended up being a boy." Gale could see the glow of pride in Igwald's eyes beaming through the winged great helm. "And as for why I am here is that I got the call that Lord Gwyn was making a final push on Izolith and I wanted to be a part of it so that when my son asks what happened I can tell him I was there." Gale chuckled and patted the knight on the back. "Well keep safe. Unlike me if you get killed you don't get back up." Igwald nodded "I'll keep that in mind." Both men looked back at the gate to the sound of a large boom as the stone shattered and came crashing down. A cheer rang through the ranks as the stone hit the earth and opened the path in. what gale saw did little to put him a ease as there was no opposing force to greet him. Only an open cave entrance with glow of lave illuminating the inner walls. From the back Gale heard a horn blast in the back to signify forward march. The front ranks began their advance into the opening and as Gale got closer to the mouth of the cave he began to wonder what would have to be so big that the gates would tower above a torus demon. Getting past the opening Gale was greeted with a site he did not expect. Izolith was not some horrid den of savage monsters but obviously a sophisticated kingdom of beings that had their own civilization. Buildings, homes, and other structures expected of a city. The entire place was illuminated by a lake of lave which was also the source of heat for the city. Not sensing any present danger the men started to talk. "How could a horde of demons have built this?" "I don't know. Maybe they killed the original inhabitants and took over." Gale put an end to it "Shut up and keep your eyes out. It's too quiet, be wary for a trap." The two men stopped their ponderings and focused on their surroundings. The walk ways were narrow, just enough for three to walk a breast. Somewhere in the rear of the formation men started screaming as they were incinerated by demon fire. Squat, fat worm like demons that Gale had thought were just statues. When they came to life and were burning the ranks with their fire there was a moment of panic. The fire would not kill an undead but the pain would be unbearable as some jumped off the ledge in panic into the lake of lava.
The Silver knights acted quickly, raising their shields and taking the brunt of the fires and protected the others as the spear men stabbed in and pin-cushioned the demons. Igwald was close to Gale and was one of the ones that provided the defence. When Igwald walked up to Gale, his armour and shield were singed black. "Trying for a new look?" Igwald shrugged and took off his helm to take a better look at his armor. "I like the black, has a slimming effect. You think it makes me look cute?" Gale laughed, "Well don't tell your wife I fancy it, She might get jealous." both chuckled. As they ventured further into Izolith the force divided into platoons, each with a silver knight. Gale could hear skirmishes and screaming echoing all over the place with the sounds of clashing metal, the screams of men and demon alike reverberated off the cave walls.
Gael led the platoon down a passage way thinking it would link them back up with another platoon but instead ended in a great hall with and large door being guarded by a behemoth of a Demon. It was taller than a Taurus demon, gelatinous in it lower section that made its belly and rear jiggle with every step from its thick stubby legs. The pale skin of its chest and belly in contrast to the rest of its stretched leathery skin that had rolls of fat everywhere were enough to make Gael disgusted with it visage. The most hideous feature was its face. Large fangs that were exposed as the demon had no lops, its eyes were a dim red and strange antlers jutting out of its head. Galle wondered if its comically small bat like wings could even lift its weight and if short, thick bony tail offered any counter balance to the gigantic mace it held. Igwald could not resist another joke at Gael's expense "It's uglier than you are, Gale" "would you sod off!" Gale retorted.
Gales platoon got ready to launch the attack and charged the behemoth.
Gale ducked under its swing to try and get in close, brought his executioner's sword across the creatures belly leaving a large gash where the blade bit but not enough to spill its intestines. One of gales men used his ax to hack at the creature's rear to distract it as Igwald leapt in with his spear to slam it into the creature's side. The lightning imbued in the spear burst in the creature. Igwald pulled his spear out and leapt out of the way of a back swing that could have turned him into paste inside his armour. The mace instead caught one of the Undead that was not paying enough attention and was slammed into the wall with his armor caved in. Igwald called out "Not enough to kill it but it definitely punctured a lung." Gale nodded and pointed at its mouth. As it roared black blood spewed from its mouth and the team pressed the attack even harder.
The creature had nicks and cuts everywhere but was not dead yet. Some of Gale's men had there breast plates smashed and were immobile despite being undead. Out of the score of men Gale had, he had lost a quarter of that and getting tired of this demon. Stepping back Gale summoned the miracle he had learned. A glowing disk spun around Gale's hand at a high speed making a buzzing sound. Gale knew precisely where he wanted it to hit. The cut at its belly had opened just enough as Gale launched the disk of light it sped into the stray demon's belly and burst out the other side, severing its spine. The gate demon froze for a moment in sheer pain and paralysis and toppled forward, bending where its spine had been severed. It was still breathing, in short gasps but was unable to move. Gale calmly walked up to it, looking in its eye's. Gale saw not a soulless beast but human emotions, fear, anger, sadness, hate and pain. Gale lifted his sword over the demon's neck and brought it down with full force, severing the neck completely and giving it a clean execution.
Igwald pated Gael on the shoulder. "That was a good fight. Hope we don't have to deal with too many more of those." Gale gave a weary nod as he looked around to assess the damage. When he walked over to one of his soldiers that was sitting against the wall with his leg plates crushed and the breast plate dented in the man only gave a low moan and tried to swing his free hand at Gael to claw at him. Gale hopped back to avoid the swing and cleaved the soldiers head off. All his mean were looking at him, perplexed at the encounter. "He went hollow. Be careful with the other four in checking them as they may have gone the same." Thankfully it was only the one soldier. The other four would need to be carried out. Gale sent five of his men to try and link up with the reinforcements that Lord Gwyn should be sending, and to get the medics to lift the other four soldiers out. Gale, Igwald and his remaining tem members of his original platoon pressed on, deeper into Izalith. They had battled their way through a host of Capra demons and fought off a few of the fire breathing creatures from before. There were sections where they snuck by what looked to be lining stone hind quarters of dragons.
Igwald mentioned that Izalith had been experimenting with making dragons in the past but failed. Gale gave the stone creatures a second look and looked back at Igwald. "I'm glad that she failed, otherwise we may not have even breached the gates." "Most likely not and suffered many casualties in the process." Someone in the back noted that they did not hear the clinging of battle any more. Gale turned to address the observation. "It could be that we are the furthest unit in and everyone is rerouting to our path. So we may just be the tip of the spear that can strike at the heart of the accursed land." The men all nodded, not wanting to make too much noise and attract the stone beasts that were standing in a lava pit not too far off. The ten men crept through the seemingly empty city like panthers on the prowl, encountering minor resistance though one of the things that surprised them was three pyromancers that were human. It was a tough skirmish to dodge fire balls and one of Gael's men was incinerated by a pillar of fire. One of the pyromancers was taken out by one of Gael's two remaining archers, the second one Igwald as able to impale on his spear and the last took flight.
Gale and his remaining team chased the pyromancer deeper in to Izalith not wanting to lose her and get ambushed from behind. It was a hard chase with both pursuer and the perused moving at a break neck sprint. They followed her into a cavern where the Pyromancer screamed out. "Sisters, I brought a feast!" Gale and the rest of his men came to a grinding halt at what stood before them.
Two gigantic spiders. One was black and red with fiery runes blazing above its rear. A naked brunet woman that looked to be attached to the front of the spider from her waist down. She held a jagged sword wreathed in flame in her right hand as she affectionately stroked the head of the spider she was attached to. The other was an albino spider with red outlines, just as big and the woman attached was blond, not wielding a weapon but held an orb of fire in one hand. Both looked at the pyromancer with a smile. The brunet turned her attention to the nine men standing in her lair. "Yes you did sister. A feast we shall have tonight." And began to charge.
Gale bellowed orders for the men to evade the charge of the demon. Near everyone got out of the way except for one of the spear men who was too slow and was grabbed by the spider and thrown into its gaping maw to be torn apart by its large teeth. Some of the men charged at the pyromancer and the other spider demon. The white spider lobed pyromancies at them, incinerating one of the attackers but was not fast enough to get out of the way of one of the undead's axe as it was buried into her side. The woman screamed in pain as one of her legs kicked the undead out of the way. Gale and Igwald focused on the brunet as she was closer and proved to be a tougher challenge. They were dodging the woman's sword which was bathed in fire and extended its self like a whip whenever she swung it. It proved even difficult to flank her as the rear for the spider spewed lava. Gale was losing men rapidly to the two spider demons and the pyromancer seamed unstoppable. The albino Spider demon had gashes along her side as well as a few arrows but the last Undead assaulting her got pinned down by one of the legs and was devoured. All that was left was Gael and Igwald fighting against the brunet. The other two hung back to watch the fight, confident in their sisters victory.
"you ugly Cunt! I will destroy you!" screamed Igwald as he charged at the Brunet. Dodging under the sweep of her sword and leapt to impale her right in the heart of her humanoid chest. The demon rose up on its hind and Igwald stopped with his spear point mere inches from the center of woman's chest. Igwald looked down to see that he was impaled on one of the spiders spear like front legs. As he was lifted up coughing blood into his helm, he was brought face to face with the woman. Igwald noticed the Violet color of her eyes and feel the claws of her finger nails tap against his helm as she took it off and gave a wolfish smile. In a deep seducing tone of voice that last thing Igwald heard was "The name of this ugly is Quelaag."
Gael stood in frozen horror as he watch his friend be impaled, toyed with and then lowered into the giant maw of the spider. It was only when Gale heard the crunch of metal and bone being broken did his mind snap out of the shock. "NNNOOOOOOOO!" Quelaag looked to see the lone undead in dark armour and red cape charging at her. "How pitiful." The spider section stopped chewing on its meal, swallowing what was left of the silver knight and readied to engage. Instead of running directly at the spider demon Gael deaked to its side to leave a gash as he dragged hit executioner sword along its hide. A leg came crashing down to try and impale him but he rolled out of the way and sprang onto its back.
Quelaag Felt the blade tear at her side and though it was more of a flesh wound it still stung, the red cloaked man felt like had moved on to her read and was now hacking away at it. Quelaag screamed in pain along with the spider. Gale could feel the demon swaying back and for trying to dislodge him. Balls of fire being cast by the albino spider demon and the pyromancer flew within feet of his head. Gale even felt the intense heat of the fire that the demon was unleashing on it's back that gale noticed on closer inspection looked more like runes of some sort. At this point he did not care if it killed him, he wanted vengeance for the death of his friend. Not paing attention to his footing as much the demon lurched forward with incredible force and he tumbled off the back of it. By the time he hit the ground he felt his arms being punctured and looked up to see the Albino spider holding him down with its blond humanoid looking at him with an ice cold fury. With the voice of what sounded like an innocent young woman she yelled at him. "How dare you come into our home, hurt our people and attack my sister, who had done you no wrong. For that I will make you suffer for a long time." Gale had no doubt about what the woman said and with his undead ability he knew they could torture him till they got bored and ate him. All gale could think to say was "Do your worst you miserable bitch." Just as the albino lowered to pick him up in its maw Gale heard a loud blast of lightning as a chuck of rock cam crashing down from the celling nearly hitting Gale as much as the albino. The blond and the brunet lifted their heads to see where the lightning came from and when they did, they ran in the opposite direction to where they could hide elsewhere in safety.
Gale saw a squad of black knights enter the room, Gale tried to get up but his undead healing factor was slowed down for whatever reason and all he could go was yell for help. One of the sliver knights heard his cry and shouted. "Hey we have a survivor!" the rest of the platoon ran over with a stretcher and loaded Gael into it. As Gael was being carried out he looked to the black knight and asked "Did we win?" The knight shook his head. "No. we suffered heavy casualties and were ordered to save who we could. The only reason we knew about you was because of the men you sent back with your wounded." Gael nodded then passed out from the pain.
Gael awoke in a medical tent with his armor removed and a blanket covering him. Testing his limbs, he felt them move and was relieved that he had not lost any limbs. "So, Sleeping beauty finally awakes." Gale looked to his left to see Colonel Flyn sitting in a chair beside him. With dry mouth Gael asked what happened. Flyn sighed and with a pained look gave the battle report of how they made a good push in at first but were leeward in to traps and an entire company was wiped out to a giant horned monster that had a spider like lava arm that melted all it touched. After hours of fighting they were pushed back and only able to keep the small foot hold in their initial push, which is how they were able to rescue some of the stranded survivors. Gale listened to every part of it and when Flyn was done gale asked what was next for him.
Flyn chuckled. "Next? Why you my boy are getting a dispensation and reward for your heroism. You lead your men the deepest in and will be given a cushy job protecting one of gywns daughters, spending most of your time babysitting I know must not sound ideal but compared to this, you were given the dream." Gael felt like he did not deserve the reward. The lone survivor of the score of men gale led and he was being rewarded for simply being lucky. "Thank you for visiting me Sir but I would like to rest a bit longer before I accept my transfer of posting." Flyn nodded and left a scroll on the chair as he walked away.
Centuries later.
Gale laid by the alter in the cleansing chapel waitng for the right person to show up. The doors opened to see an ashen one walking through. At first sight Gael knew this was the one. The one to bring fire to a rotting ,painted world.