(I've been taking a little longer than usual to write...blame it on school...R/R and maybe I'll post more frequently : P )

Zycrasik thrust her trusty dagger forward, sliding it through the druidess' ribs. Blood flowed down the necromancer's arm and she sighed in ecstasy in the pain and death she was causing. The chant changed suddenly and Zycrasik felt thousands of volts of electricity course through her body. She cursed the name of Tunare loudly in the tier'dal tongue, fell to her knees and then collapsed to the ground with an audible thud.

Ky'a mused silently as she watched the foolish elves around her trying in vain to combat her people. If I wasn't a spy, I'd drop this disguise in moments to join my fellows in this battle...the Faydark will be ours. Her eyes fell on a single paladin trying to fight through the throng to the citadel. It was that fool, Stormsiege. She prepared a spell to kill him on the spot but felt a sword against her throat suddenly.
"I know you are not all that you seem, tier'dal clothed as koada'dal."
The sword began to rip through the flesh of her neck. She glanced up behind her, gasping for breathe and clutching her severed trachea and saw a half elven woman standing behind her holding the blade.
"Sori—"
"Aye, my once true friend, I had hoped and pray this is the way it would not end. But alas and many woes, in the end we are truly foes."
Ky'a fell to the ground, her hand still grasping her throat although no longer did she labor to draw breath, as the elf backed away.

Poised at the top of the tower of Crushbone, Nirokusan stood with his orange-yellow eyes closed, his robes fluttering around him. The dark aura around his form was immense, but some mana was still being held back for other spells. His eyes focused on different parts of the battle. Dvinn had just fallen, Ky'a's throat had been slit and Zycrasik lay in a smoldering heap beside two fallen elves. His clawed hand fingered the tattered edges of his spell book as he searched for the greatest spell in his arsenal.
"Great Cazzzic Thule, bring forth my followerssss from their gravessss lying on thissss battle field in your essstemed honor, bring them forth as undead warriorsss of greatnessss!"
He flung to the ground a symbol of Cazic Thule and around him the dead of both sides rose up, weapons in hand, and began moving towards what remained of the small sylvan forces. Their skin hung around their bones like oversized clothing and their gashes flowed with blood anew. They eyed those who had once been their fellows in arms with a desire for blood. Their eyes glittered with anger and mockery that was channeled from Nirokusan, the spell caster, to Cazic-Thule, to them. Brother fought brother in a battle to determine the greatness of Cazic Thule and Tunare.

Ky'a stood slowly and awkwardly, the power and might of Cazic Thule imbuing her with a macabre mockery of life. With the dagger in her hand she walked stiff leggedly towards Soriana Morgan. Soriana spun about quickly, hearing the strange scraping sounds as the zombie of her once friend limped towards her. The sight awoke in her a deep fear and she ran as quickly as her bardic magic would take her, seeking her father. The zombie laughed, the strained, grating, bone-chilling sound coming out of its open throat and severed voice box. Her prey gone, she turned on the nearest elf and thrust her blade into his eye socket, spraying vitreous humor everywhere. The blade bit through his spinal column and he fell to the ground on his own blade, twitching as his nervous system failed and his blood poured out through his open chest. The fallen soldier stopped shaking and convulsing and stood slowly, his wounds still flowing with the blood and liquids that coated his armor in a layer of filth.

The undead troops marched forward, their ranks bolstered by specters, ghouls and skeletons raised by the various necromancers and liches about the battle field. Stormsiege turned from his fight for a moment and a blade bit into his shoulder ferociously.
"By the power of Tunare, be gone!"
The corpse of one of his students, a young high elf woman, screamed as the light of Tunare's blessing coursed through her body. The young paladins closed their ranks tightly, focusing what little mana they had remaining into spells of undead bane. A chant rose up from within the forest, a melodic chant which soothed their minds and slowly restored their mana.
"Papa!"
"Soriana, I told you to stay in the city!"
"Papa, a child I am, no longer, and fight by your side I shall. In defense of our homeland, we shant ever fall."
Stormsiege sighed as his daughter drew her small blade and spread her stance for better balance.

Nirokusan slowly allowed his spell to drop and stood on the rough hewn wooden floors of the orc castle. He stepped forward and heard a crunch as the bones of the fallen shatter under his feet. The sound of labored breathing and a strained heart beat reached his ears and he grinned, his prey was nearby. He could smell the blood of the elves nearby.
"Come out, come out, little elvessss, come and play with me. I only wish to ssssend you to your eternity!" He blasted a poison bolt through the door before he entered the tower room and grinned as he saw the two elves lying intertwined in each other's arms. "Yessss, yesss, die in your lover'sss armssss."
The young druidess writhed spasmodically as the poison flowed through her veins, slowly destroying her nervous system and suffocating her. The coughs wracked her body and blood came out her mouth and nose. She looked up, the longing for life glowing fiercely in her eyes as she glared at Nirokusan but the fires of life were fading quickly within her.