Chap 10.

Feorie spat out blood. She had sustained a mere cut on her inner lip, but the wound caused the thick substance to pool in her mouth. Roused by almost choking on it, she then had to hack the thick caret substance out to prevent from being suffocated. After being knocked unconscious Feorie awoke only to find a large truss, from the tower's rubble, pressed against her abdomen. With the large plank constricting her, she struggled to breathe. The wooden beam only pressed harder on her chest. Every breath she took seemed to take more and more effort. Her hands, callused from shooting hundreds of arrows, dug into the grain. She used all of her might to push the massive truss of off her. Droplets of sweat formed on her forehead as she strained. As unforgiving and stubborn as it was, the plank began to inch off.

Like a chick, struggling to be free of its shell, Feorie writhed out of her entombment, and sprawled out on the ground. For a moment, except for the hard breathing, her body lay as motionless as the corpses surrounding her. She was in so much pain. No bones were broken but her left leg had been severely lacerated. A crimson trail had been left from the place she'd crawled out. Showing signs of agony on her face, she reached into her pouch, and pulled out the canteen. The injured archer drank, not in moderation, but quantity, emptying the bladder.

She absorbed the sacred waters, becoming revitalized and refreshed. Her body, as helpless as a whale stranded on a beach, became agile and capable. The deep cuts on her thigh, while not instantaneously disappearing, seemed to cauterize and the bleeding stopped.

The archer exhaled out of relief, but she was still the only survivor of the attack. The scene around her looked more like a junkyard than an outpost, except for the bodies. The towers, which had been a fury of arrows and bolts, now had been reduced to mere rubble. Around them the corpses of Peons lay squashed, like green insects. Even more shocking were the Elven bodies, their faces permanently marked with an expression of solemn acceptance of death. In the presence of such destruction, Feorie lowered her head. She showed sorrow for the deaths that had occurred, remembering nothing but slaughter. In mourning she took a knee, unclasped one of her earrings, stuck an arrow in the ground, and made a small memorial.

In quiet eulogy she uttered,

"lentoos tiffah dominc tal. Ner hul elune-do rak tas." (A short prayer meaning "their soul's are now free. Let Elune guide them to the peace they fought for). A tear seeped from her eye, but, before she let it trickle down her cheek, she wiped it off her face.

Sucking in her grief, she turned her back to burning remains of the out post, and followed the footsteps of the army that almost killed her. Her pace quickened and she ran with the vigor of a gazelle. At her speed she could reach the camp within the hour, but her sensitive ears could hear the faint vibrations of battle already.

Realizing that the woods would provide a short cut for her she turned into the glades. Feorie felt as if she was not running of her own power as she entered the forests. While the trees bent ever so slightly to show her the correct path she still sensed she was pulled towards the battle. Time passed quickly until she had been running for 45 minutes, but fatigue did not faze her body. Already the clashing of metal and armor could be heard loudly, even for Elven ears. Trees impeded her view but she was close, real close. The tactful Night Elf knew she was flanking the enemy, so she used a trick. In a demonstration of agility she jumped. Caught a nearby branch and flipped her self on top to land with perfect balance. From this vantage point the fight could be seen occurring at the edge of the forest, mere feet away form her. She needed to be closer to attempt what she planned, so again she pivoted toward a neighboring tree and jumped, again, to a branch that would support her weight.

She could see the battle in full view, and it was not as she had expected. The tight formations were broken and decentralized. The alliance army fought with no plan or strategy whatsoever, and appeared to be more of an amorphous blob. Even the different races had disassembled their lines. Many warriors seemed lost. Without their commanding officers, they could not coordinate their attack. The fighting had to have lasted at least an hour and with every minute the alliance forces became more awry.

The scourge seemed much more in control. Their forces were a third the size of the alliance army but they fought with the harmony of a well-trained orchestra. In front the ivory ghouls, without thought or inhibition slashed away at the defending troops. Amidst every indiscriminate pack of ghouls a large and even more hideous monstrosity assaulted allied forces. They seemed not as if they had been created but sewn. Many body parts hung off an amalgamation of flesh, affixed only by stitching. The beasts carried large meat cleavers and hooks, and with the jagged and rusty instruments they swung through the ranks toppling many at a time.

If a unit managed to fend of the crazed ghouls and bring down the putrid abominations they would only be met with a barrage of muculent corrosive goo, spat from the mouth's of giant spider like creatures. An entire regiment of trolls met this fate, and became trapped, with the glutinous substances, as the beasts they hunted. The normally shifty trolls now cried out, helplessly, for their lives. The vain cries were silenced when the Nerubian creatures bared their fangs and impaled the them.

It seemed as though the Undead forces were actually winning. Slowly and surely the lines pushed closer to the base, as the siege units hurled piles of condensed flesh at it. Though the alliance forces were suffering heavy loses, Feorie looked more impelled than ever. She balanced on the branch in a prone, position, ready to jump in the fray when the moment arose. She waited, carefully picking out the right moment, then an innate sense within her clicked. Running full speed, ready to take flight, she leapt off the branch as if it were a springboard, and plunged into the chaos.

An unsuspecting a Nerubian pawn found its head to be Feorie's soft landing point. It flattened under the force of her fall, yet she had dismounted perfectly. Her long eleven ears twitched to the sound of an attacker behind her. With one smooth motion, she pivoted 180 degrees, unsheathed an arrow, and landed a shot right in the Ghoul's forehead. The creature, which used to be charging, stumbled and fell on its back. Another arrow cut of its spine from the rest of its body and it instaneously fell as a pile of bones. Impressed by the spectacle, a dryad formation galloped next to her. One of them came close and spoke in admiration,

" Exemplary job sist…" her pause was enough to let a ghoul headbutt her, knocking the centaur female of her four legs. In unison the rest if the pack flung poisoned spears the ghoul, ripping it apart. They then continued their attack, but Feorie broke away, moving laterally across the battlefield.

She was still, now almost physically, drawn to some point on the field, as if Elune was moving her herself. She knew she had to fight but the beckoning was so strong she merely darted around the battle field, dodging any possible harm. It was almost as if there was a tether attached to her, and the only way to stop it from yanking her was to run in the direction it was pulling. It then stopped. Wondering why she felt such an impulse her head scanned the carnage around her. It was not long before she found an anomaly in the bedlam.

A nerubian grabbed a human foot soldier in its forward pincer, and attempted to squeeze the life out of it. The swordsman's cries could be heard, as his armor bent under the creature's vice. Realizing that she was the only one who could save him she unsheathed her last three arrows, one for each finger, and dexterously fired them.

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Tialen thought his screams, which echoed inside his helmet, would be his last. His chest became increasingly more constricted as the spider's grip tightened. Thinking the end to be near he exhaled, expecting never to taste air again…

But the air returned to fill his lungs, and the pincers loosened their grip. Almost confused the inevitable did not occur he was quick to react. His sword had fallen out of his hand but he had held tightly to his shield. With all of his might he bashed the head of the Crypt fiend with it. Stunned by the bludgeoning the massive spider let go entirely. The young soldier scrambled toward his sword, and brandished it , yet again, ready to face the monster. It reared its head and from it spat a large wad of silk at him, but he dodged it while strafing and closing in on it. Quickly leaning right to avoid a swipe of the Nerubian Tialen stabbed it in the thorax. With his sword deep into the beast he ran along the side of it, making a large gash. It let out a weird screech in pain as its internals burst out of it.

Having already slain the vile creature, Tialen sought to find out who was his savior. The slits in his helmet provided little peripheral vision so he threw it off, exposing his brown hair, glistening with sweat, to the sun. Around him the wanton battle raged on, but he searched anyway. He thought that it was a random archer, but he soon was proved wrong as his eyes found a pair just as amazed, excited, and level, as his.

"No, it can't be you", he yelled in disbelief, running to Feorie. As he came close to her he felt compelled to almost hug her, but he knew he should not show such affection in the midst of combat.

"Disbeleif strikes me as well I thought I'd never see you again. ", she replayed attempting to assuage his worry.

"Well I think we.."

"LOOKOUT!", before he could turn around a ghoul clawed him in his back armor, almost digging to the flesh. In reaction Feorie unsheathed her Elven sword and sliced off two of its limbs.

"Are you okay", she said as soothingly as she could while attempting to be heard.

"Yea it wasn't deep, I'm fine for now"

"You'd better be, we're not through this yet", she said concerned and rightly so. When they paused to converse a pack of Ghouls managed to box them in. Soon they had their backs pressed against one another, surrounded by the ravenous corrupted monsters. Tialen could feel the pulse within her. She was charged to fight, and the less chance they had to survive the more viscous she felt. Before they engaged the demons she remarked,

" You, ready?"

"No"

"Good, don't go dying on m…", sensing the two would attack, the pack of ghouls struck first. Feorie immediately bounded out of the way, and Tialen brought his shield up, returning with a slash that fell diagonally on the attacking fiend directly in front of him. There were five around him now. He charged the first one, but, using a trick he learned, reared back right before he clashed into it. The demon lost its balance, expecting a blow, and Tialen used the split second to land a punishing swipe right on top of it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another white blur. With reflexes sharpened to the point he parried with his sword, cutting through the second creature's hand. The talon he severed off bounced on the field, and Tialen proceeded to land a horizontal slash, leaving the torso and the lower half of the body in two pieces. Before they fell to the ground the third ghoul leapt onto Tialen's back, ready to hack away at his already damaged armor. Remembering a trick from a street fight he once got into, the young warrior rode with the creature's energy, and toppled himself over. He landed with an immense force, slamming the ghoul under his body weight. The lower vertebrate shattered under the sudden instance of pressure. Bruising himself from the last move the young warrior found the final two circling around him. Their motions confused him, and he tried to find a pattern to their movement. Without warning on of them pounced on him in a leap slash. In reaction Tialen met the attack with his shield, and, attempting to remember the timing, slashed behind him where the other Ghoul should have been. Luckily his sword cleaved the fleshless body of the minion, and it fell, lifeless. The final Ghoul, which had unsuccessfully tried to assault him before, laid off balance in front of him. Recognizing the opportunity he had, Tialen discarded his shield, and, gripping his sword in two hands, chopped at demon as if it were a log. In one swipe the Ghoul was left in two halves.

Almost satisfied with the bones around him he found his shield and checked about to find Feorie. Expecting her to still be fighting, he was amaze to find her wearied but triumphant above a pile larger than his.

" What took you so long?", she said boastfully, but playfully.

Tialen felt stupefied and bashful. She truly was an exemplary warrior, yet she did not make him feel inferior. Seeing her standing there, brandishing her ornate Elven sword, made him realize he had the audience of the true spirit of a warrior.

His thought would have to cease, for he noticed something else about the scene around him. It was too quiet. Around them the battle continued as a raging sea, but, in the proximity of the two, the savage remorseless waters of battle receded. No scourge units came close to them and any alliance fighters were either engaged in combat or lie as corpses. Turning to Feorie for any answer he found her looking in a direction completely still with a blank and stern expression engraved on her face. Looking in the same way he saw and heard nothing. It was not until the boding sound of hooves, could touched his ears that he realized what irked her.

From the discord emerged a figure bathed in tenebrosity. It appeared human, but from it came an aura that seemed to grab at Tialen's soul, forcing it to join its endless ranks of the damned. Skulls and thorns adorned its armor, and the Death knight rode a spectral steed, which seemed to have been born of the chaos yet still made manifest. With eyes that seemed to nay be the aforementioned, but chasms, devoid of any feeling, he stared at him. His words slithered as serpents that crawled into his ears and uttered reprobate whispers.

"Ah, I see you seem to be formidable opponents for the scourge, but it will not be long before your souls are entrapped within our ranks."

Feorie had to reply, "Fallen Knight! If you wish to have my soul then you will have to grasp it as it leaves my cold dead body!".

"That's the Idea", replied the dark human. With that statement he lifted his sword and focused his consumptive powers. An orb of dark energy formed at the tip and hurled itself right at the defending Night Elf.

"FEORIE NO!" yelled Tialen as he ran in front of her, and barely managed to catch the blast with his shield. It went flying, and Tialen was pushed back, forced into the ground. As he lifted his head he saw only the Death Knight. Feorie's form didn't appear anywhere in his view.

Good, I hope she is not here to die like this. He thought to himself. Tired of the constant fighting he got up and faced the corrupt horseman. He stared at him, eyes locked and the two voids, and stretched out his arm. His palm turned up and signaled for the Death Knight to come. Complying he raised his sword and hurled another Death Coil.

Time seemed to slow down, as the ball closed in. It seemed every time that death was imminent, something would intervene, as if he was somehow supposed to live. This moment, to him, seemed to be the point, and it yielded him to be a mere casualty of battle. The future, which had seemed to be a doorway leading out of a dismal life, was now shut leaving him out in the cold. The only warmth he had located, which would have given him the strength to finally reach that entrance, could not be found. Now his future only seemed to be the lurid sphere that approached like the ringing of an Iron bell. With his last thought drifting away the Death Coil met him.

Its dark energies coursed through his body. He tried to scream but the torment was so great he could not bring himself to form words. He fell to the ground, convulsing as the evil powers surged through him.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Yelled Feorie from behind the Death Knight. Though Tialen had thought she'd fled, the ranger merely used her Night Elf stealth to sneak attack the mounted menace. Before the Death Knight could react, Feorie lurched forward at him. Charged with rage she gripped her sword with two hands and landed a leap slash on an exposed part of his skull-clad armor, between the shoulder pad and the breastplate. She shoved the blade in so hard that the majority of it poked through the other side. With his appendage ran-through the Death knight fell off his steed at writhed in pain.

At the sound of her scream a group of mounted Orcs cut through the ranks, using their large blades like machetes. They immediately saw the fallen Death Knight, pinned to the ground with the sword still stuck in him. The Raiders through their weighted nets over him preventing any more escape. Vexed at his injury and capture the Death Knight passed out.

Abruptly the Undead army fell apart. The various units ceased fighting in unison and were engulfed by the alliance forces. Some, so confused without their master, even began attacking their own warriors. It was not soon before the alliance prevailed, but the victory did not come without consequences

Piles of corpses both Orc, Human, and Night Elf. Lay among the battlefield. They had been reduced to half of their original numbers. A cry could not be heard for in a sense the costs were so taxing it did not merit a success. A gray cloud hung over the Orcs, Humans, and Night Elves as they attempted to assess their dead and wounded.

Feorie ran toward Tialen, who was being sapped of life by the second. Even through his armor she could feel the dark energies which clumped within him. As she threw herself on him she sobbed so much she could fill large basins. Not in a hundred, not in a thousand, and not in her entire life had she ever cried in such lament, and the tears stung her soft face. Hearing him gasp for breath made her emotions pour out, like a failing dam. As the medics came out she lay weeping with her cheek glued to his breastplate.

The afternoon sun, which orange rays caused the blood to shimmer, could not seem any more menacing.

End CHAP 10

Discusion:

Whoa that was a long one. Okay this seems too climactic so I might change it. If you think I should please say so since there will be a couple more chapters, and at least one more major battle to go.

Also if it seems too repetitive in some places I'd like to have some suggestions

Neozero out.