Count Calmus sat slumped over his desk, supporting his head with his hand. His eyes drooped towards the map he was studying; it had been a busy night, and it was almost dawn; he was tired. He got up and paced the width of the small room over to the window, where he started up at the slowly brightening sky. The orcs had attacked some of his fellow Counts again, and he had gone personally to assist, his wight riders smashing the orc lines from behind when they least expected it. He chuckled to himself. Those orcs were never very bright; he could see their 'strategies' a mile away. "Run in dere and hit them wit wut is in ur hands." was usually the extent of it, although sometimes the goblins got sneaky and went around behind for a rear assault with some explosives, but thankfully not tonight. A few zombie pits right in front of the orc lines usually cleared up the trouble, but sometimes he felt more like he was herding a flock of dumb green sheep than actually waging war.

Shaking his head, he mused, "Perhaps I should take a hint from some of my fellow noblemen, and start using them as fodder for my army."

Speaking of which…

He turned back to his desk looked down at the map, illuminated by single candle. Even after such a long night, he had more to worry about than a few rampaging orcs.

"And you are certain they are headed this way?" he asked his wraith servant, pointing at a the map.

"Yes, m'lord."

"And how many?"

"Perhaps a few hundred, m'lord. Enough for a raiding party, not enough for a real invasion."

Calmus sighed down at the map.

"Who are they? Do they have chaos spawn? Did it look like there were any warlocks? A chaos banner? Any demons?"

The wraith nodded. "Several hundred beastmen. They travel under the banner of Nurgle." And, he added, "The Nurgle champion at the front of the lines was kept in a shroud, it is difficult to tell just how much of a threat he will be without even getting a look at him."

Calmus nodded. "Good, that's less than I thought. Then-" He cut off as he glanced out the window and noticed that the sky was far too bright for his taste. Dawn was approaching. "Then I think I shall retire for the day."

As he hurried downstairs to his coffin, he mulled the new information over. That number of raiders hardly posed a real concern to his keep, but they were going to force another course of action upon him. As he climbed in, and closed the lid, he felt a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, and a creeping numbness that he knew all too well. He had exerted himself by aiding his fellow Counts, and now, if he was to meet these chaos raiders in combat, he would not be able to put it off any longer. He would need to feed soon.

The following evening, as he awoke from his slumber, the numbness was more subdued, but still present. Grudgingly, he creaked the lid of his coffin open, and stumbled out and down to the dungeon. He hated this. His fellow Counts would think him a complete fool, but he had always despised this part. He had been a good man, once. Or at least, he thought so. Even when he was alive, his fellows had always called him too soft, too unwilling to mete out the justice of the gallows or carry out surprise attacks on an enemy. Oh, he knew how to fight; he had been a fair fencer and he had learned the art of the halberd as well. But he was never filled with the fire of war as his fellows were, and he was never eager to carry out executions. And here he was, drinking the blood of peasants so he could carry on fighting for a Count he now despised. He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he slowly opened the heavy door to the dungeon, and peered down into the moonlit pit.

"Hey bones, what mouldy rot have you brought us today, you worthless…oh, it's you."

Calmus stepped into the room, inspecting the sorry lot of his prisoners as they shrank back away from him. Nine poor souls, who he had captured on a short raid into Empire territory. He stood, shrouded in darkness, at the top of the stairs; watching the prisoners, half-lit by the moon.

"I am afraid that your usual jailor will not be visiting you tonight."

The only reply to his statement was terrified silence.

"Which one of you shall it be?"

Unsurprisingly, no volunteers stepped forward. At night, all the colors seemed to disappear; the washed-out walls, the washed-out chains, and the washed- out bodies of his prisoners. No eyes rose to greet him, all were shaded by heavy brows. Nothing moved.

"Come now, one of you."

No response.

He stepped forward, into the moonlight. Half of his face was illuminated in the hazy grey glow, but his black cloak devoured the color and remained a dull shadow. One woman in the back spoke up, in a whisper barely heard above the silence, "Can't we convince you to wait longer, like the last time?" The voice seemed to come from nowhere, nobody had so much as twitched an eyelash.

Calmus sighed heavily. "I wish I could wait. But, there are raiders headed this way. I am growing weaker. If I cannot hold them off, they will break in and kill you all regardless."

No response to that. Just the stillness of the room, the stillness of the moonlight, and the stillness of fear.

Calmus sighed again. "You know I'm being generous. I've held off as long as I can. Now, one of you, come with me."

The woman who had spoken slowly got up. It almost seemed a shock to Calmus, as if he was seeing small part of a portrait suddenly move of its own accord. She seemed to slither up from her crumpled position against the wall, any movement eerie in the still light after the long silence. And slowly, mechanically, she walked forward. Forward past the other prisoners, who dared not move themselves. A shadow walking past shadows.

Another whisper, heard past the footsteps. "Please." One of the shadows slumped against the wall had spoken; it was impossible to tell which one. "Please just one more day."

The footsteps stopped, the woman's figure hung limply in a slouch in the moonlight, her legs perfectly straight, and the rest of her slumped forward, as if her bones had settled against one another and they were the only thing keeping her upright. She awaited his response.

Calmus sighed in disgust. With himself, for keeping them here like this. But he knew he had no choice. He turned around slowly and ascended the stairs. "I'll be back tomorrow."

As he shut the heavy door behind him with a deafening thud, he cursed. He wanted no part of this.

As Calmus sighed to himself, he turned and put his foot on the stairs headed back up to his map room, but suddenly froze at a voice behind him saying, "Your brother Counts would not tolerate such impudence. In fact, they would drink the one begging for mercy first."

Calmus slowly turned around to face his wight lord, Galreh. "Perhaps I am mistaken, but I do not recall asking for your opinion, Galreh. Will you perchance leave matters of the prisoners to me?"

Galreh, being a wight, could not snort in derision, but the flicker of the fire in his eyes gave the same impression. "You can play the kind hearted captor all you like with the cattle, it's not my concern. But war is my concern, and you are weakening yourself playing games with them. Those Chaos raiders aren't getting here any slower just because you want to pretend to be merciful."

Calmus scowled, but knew that the commander was right. "I take it you sent scouts?"

"Of course I did. I was informed yesterday about the raiders; I sent them out as soon as the sun set."

Calmus nodded. "Good. And I want you to ride out there yourself and mark locations for zombie pits and ambushes. I'll talk to Vuk'osh and see how many we can afford to have set up."

"We could have all the zombies we need if you would raise them yourself." The wight took a step forward. "If you were stronger. If you would use some more of your prisoners. It doesn't matter if the butcher asks the cows nicely which one would like to be chopped up."

"Dammnit, Galreh, that's enough! I gave you an order! Now get out there and scout those ambush points!"

Galreh performed an extremely shallow bow, and walked out. "Yes sir." He turned, and issued one final barb, "I would ask if you would care to accompany me, but I'm quite sure your bat form would be too strenuous for you in your weakened state. A peasant's life is certainly more important than overseeing your own defenses."

"Point taken, Galreh, just go and do as I say."

Calmus leaned against the wall and sighed. He knew Galresh was absolutely right, every victory he won to maintain his humanity was a loss to his powers. Ten years he had played this game…how much longer could he afford to?

Then, he heard two words, whispered from up beneath in the dungeon; "Thank you."

Startled, he realized that he had never ascended the stairs, and that his eavesdropping prisoners had heard every word through the grate in the door. Scowling, he went to go find Vuk'osh.

Vuk'osh had situated his lab at the topmost turret of the keep, and as Calmus trudged up the spiral stairs, he found himself hoping that the necromancer wasn't in one of his moods. He had been assigned the old wizard by von Carstien when he had first been turned; every Count had one to augment his defenses. They had a fair agreement; Calmus sent his minions out to gather reagents from time to time, and Vuk'osh helped defend the keep. But Vuk'osh was always buried in his laboratory and his notes, and they rarely ever spoke.

Calmus knocked on the door once he reached the top. "Vuk'osh?"

When no reply was made, he slowly opened the door and found Vuk'osh hunched over a dissection table, making small incisions into his latest undead construct. Knowing better than to interrupt him, Calmus simply repeated, "Vuk'osh", in a louder voice, and waited for the other man to respond. He kept his eyes steadily on the wall; he disliked the more morbid trinkets scattered about. He had almost gotten used to seeing this place, but every time he started to think about his situation, it made him more and more disgusted. And more and more fearful that one day he might lose his humanity and become what Vuk'osh was. After a good ten minutes, Vuk'osh stood, slowly turned around, and as if there had been no pause whatsoever, asked him ,"Yes?"

Calmus knew enough about Vuk'osh to get right to the point. "There are raiders on the way here. I have need of your services. The usual trap, please."

Vuk'osh swished his hand through the air in dismissal. "Bah. I'm far too busy for that sort of thing. Take care of a few pests yourself." He turned his gaze to the table, his eyes alight. "Look at this!"

Calmus came closer out of curiosity, and saw nothing but a pile of bones and meat laid out on the table. "What is it?"

"Ah, the unenlightened do not see what is before them. But this, THIS will make your raiders turn and run in fear."

Calmus surveyed the length of the table, silently agreeing. The table was a good 12 feet long, all of it covered in…parts.

"Well, I certainly appreciate your dedication, but I don't want these raiders to get far. I need that trap."

Vuk'osh sighed in exasperation. "I don't have the time to come deal with these trivialities!" He scanned his many wall hooks, finally seizing upon one and snatching a hanging medallion from it. He thrust it at Calmus impatiently; "This will give you what you need. It may only be used once. Now leave me be, I am busy."

Calmus knew when he had gotten as much as he was going to get out of his unbalanced comrade, so he quietly left the room, medallion in hand.

Calmus and Galreh sat hunched around the map table just before the dawn; the wraith scouts reporting in. They had brought back some surprising results.

"What?" Calmus queried, incredulous. "A village? Where?"

The wraith pointed to a spot just as the map started to fade out, within the mountains, near a pass that Calmus had never had the occasion to use.

"M'lord, we have never taken an interest in that place since…since long before…our present situation…" the wraith trailed off.

"Yes, yes, I know. Do you know why the villiage is there? It's up in the mountains with nothing around it as far as I know."

"There were wagons there, and a small lake. A water stop for traders that grew without our knowledge; it is barely inside our territory."

Galreh sat back his chair. "We can ignore it, to save for easy raiding, if my lord will deign to feed himself", the disgust for Calmus' weakness clearly registering, "or we can turn it into a zombie pit, and lure the raiders there." He turned to the wraith scout, "And they have no defenses?"

"They likely have a small milita, sir, but no fortifications. No preparation for more trouble than wild animals or an occasional group of outlaws."

Galreh nodded. "It would seem that we have a boon on our hands. How shall we use it?"

Calmus looked thoughtfully down at the map. "Are the raiders going to use that mountain pass on their way here?"

The scout gave his best impression of a shrug. "It's hard to say, m'lord. The raiders are coming straight south from their homeland"; he pointed to the map, "and there is nothing in their way. The mountains and the village are several miles to the west, and they block the Empire lands. If the raiders decide to turn to the west to raid the empire? They would likely use the pass. However, if they had plans to raid the Empire, I doubt they would take this route. Most of their attacks on our lands come from the northeast, and most of their attacks on the empire come straight south from their lands. Chances are they wouldn't even look twice at it. Although, if one of the Chaos scouts follows that mountain road far enough, they might find it."

Calmus rubbed his chin thoughtfully, musing.

Galreh gave a long, drawn out sigh that rattled past his bones. "You are going to leave it there, aren't you?" He leapt to his feet and glared down at Calmus, "You FOOL! It has been ten years! Ten YEARS since you turned!" he grabbed Calmus' shirt and yanked him close, "You are not a soft hearted noble any more, you are a member of the Count's court! Start acting like it! He violently threw Calmus down, who did nothing to stop his second in command, for he knew all to well the words were true. "I have watched and waited for ten years as you have hid in this keep, trying to play at being human! I have waited for you to accept your fate. But here you sit, you only go and aid your brothers when you must, and you never visit the Court, pleading border trouble when none exists! Who do you think you are fooling? Not me, not those stupid cattle, and not your brothers! Only yourself!"

Calmus kept his head down the entire time. He knew he had nothing to say; he was tempted to simply dismiss Galreh and summon another wight lord, but that would not take the ring of truth from his words.

Calmus looked up at his seething officer. He sighed. He knew there was nothing for it; he didn't particularly want to do this, but sooner or later he was going to have to face up to it. "All right, Galreh. We'll try it your way."