"Wait! Spare me, please!" The pillager begged, getting on his knees as he pleaded.
The rain fell down, the drops evaporating as they touched the green blade held by the Necromancer. Silent and almost contemplating on what he should do.
"I swear, I'll throw away my life as an outlaw! I will leave, work as an honest man, and pray to Gods old and new! Just don't kill me!"
He stared at him, still holding onto the blade...
"No."
And with that, he plunged the blade deep into his chest, and stared at the pillager's eyes as the life leaves his body. When he pulled the blade out, he let him slump down to the ground as he stared at the sea of dead bandits and other outlaws.
Kazuma takes a deep breath, and held out his arms to the side. Slowly, he raised his arms to the sky, dark magic dancing at his fingertips.
That's when he saw it, the bodies sprawled onto the ground began convulsing, writhing. He watched it all. He watched as their eyes open up, their bodies rising up like puppets on strings.
He hums in satisfaction. His army grows even more as the ranks of the undead add on, but he knows that he isn't done yet, and his force is still rather weak. Other than the numerous Ghouls and Ghasts he has hider his disposal, and along with his Champions, most of the dead back at the fortress decayed significantly, most of them nothing more but skeletons, or missing limbs only usable as cannon fodder.
Even with the outlaws, they're not equipped with the greatest weapons as most of them are either clubs, fashioned out of stone, or rusted swords. Even then, their armor is almost non-existant, and even if they had, they were crude as they were nothing more but fur rags and cotton tunics.
Nonetheless, he now has an army that can take on a village, or a sizable town, but now's not the time for testing them... it's time to go back to the fortress and do it again for the second time.
With his mind made up, he looked at his army, and marched back to the fortress.
XXXXX
For hours, he trekked with his army, just passing through the Green Hills as a way to hide from any patrols or raiding parties.
This is why Kazuma tends to favor undead soldiers more than the greatest warriors ever trained. They're easy to get, and they don't need rest, nor do they have to eat, he can literally march across the continent without stopping to take any breaks.
But even he's aware of the downsides: One; It's on the quality, a fresh body is well... better in a sense. Skeletons are good enough to fire arrows, but weak in a melee. The second is the size. The army can grow so large, it'll be a chore to do what he's doing, and hiding is as good as a camel grazing with sheep.
He hums, closing his eyes as his horse goes on and on, almost wondering if he should just go to sleep as his army continues on.
"You there!"
So much for a peaceful nap.
He opens his eyes and gets his army to stop, taking a good look at the one who decided to stop them.
It was a man, obviously. As he trots down with his horse, he gives them a snide sneer as he stares at all of them.
Kazuma couldn't tell if this is one of the Black Dogs, or one of the Hillmen. Sure, he wasn't wearing any armor, but with a thick leather jacket, it might as well be... not to mention the wooden greaves and gauntlets, and the horned helmet that he wears.
"I don't know if you heard, but these valleys belong to the Black Dogs. Thinking you can pass through without us noticing?"
Yep, he called it. Not on whether or not if this person is one of them, but getting spotted by at least some... bad eggs, you can say.
"And I see you have yourself quite a handful of people there. Trying to be a hero by escorting them to somewhere else? Pathetic." He jeered as he waves for his men.
He looked by the Hills, spotting not only seeing men on horsebacks, but Orcs and Imps as well. He could've sworn he say a number of trolls.
"This is what happens when you go here without a pass. However..."
He looked at the man again, his face showing nothing but a face similar to this (-_-).
"I'll let you and your people go... For a fee. Consider this an intervention."
He looked back at his army, now that he thinks about it, how come they never noticed? The Ghouls and Ghosts growling at the back, his Champions just by his side, how come they never noticed the clothes? It's obvious by their arms, they're not a local militia escorting them to safety.
Now he wonders if he should laugh and move on... or slaughter them to add to his army? The orcs and trolls could be useful, and maybe the Imps can be good cannon fodder.
"How much do I have to pay?" He asks.
"A chest of gold for that many men."
Kazuma can only give him and incredulous look, almost indescribable too... Then he starts laughing.
"What's so funny...?"
The necromancer kept on howling with laughter... a little eerie since everyone is deathly quiet... too quiet. Why does he find this so funny?
"Haaaaaaaaa..." He breathed before looking at him and his army. "Kill them."
The man's eyes widen at that response. He wasted no time in turning around and fleeing on his horse, blowing into a rallying horn.
His men at the hill wasted no time as well. As the horn was blown, they quickly drew out their arms and charged down at the Necromancer.
"Loose!" He commanded. The Pillagers and Skeletons raised their bows and fired the arrows.
The volley soars up high and rains down on them, the Imps falling down and the cavalry crumpling down as they and their horses fell from the rain. Not even the orcs were spared as they fell victim to the rain, sure they absorbed the hits and most of them kept on the charge, but those are the brutes... can't say the same for the others.
As they kept on charging down the hill, the dead bandits quickly ran to the front, getting behind the Raiders and Marauders as they formed a shield wall. Standing their ground, and they will be sure nothing gets past them.
The second volley came once again, arrows missing their marks and nailing them down. The flood of Imps screech deafeningly as they rammed into the wall.
The undead stood their ground, their feet trailing the ground as the imps kept on pushing. They battled against them, launching their pikes through the gaps and nailing the imps on the head, and once they anchored, they jabbed their shields forward, effortlessly knocking the heathens back. They quickly aligned their shields with the spears, and charged against the incoming cavalry while trampling the imps.
"Charge!" The necromancer yelled.
And so they did. The Ghouls lunged at the downed men, quickly mauling them to death as the Ghasts wrestle with the orcs. Some of the Champions fighting on with glee as the Mountain flung every opponent to the air with her axe, competing with Orella as she cuts them down without any effort.
With them out of the way, he advanced to the man, cleaving through any man, orc, or imp with his blade.
"Do you really think I'll go down without a fight?!" He yelled as he chops an orc in half.
The man growled as he picks up a spear, glaring at him.
Both of their horses their charged, spear raised and swords at the ready. Time appeared to slow down for both of them as they get closer and closer, when they near each other, the necromancer dismounted, his undead horse colliding against the other, ending their joust.
"Coward!" The man yelled. "Fight me like a real man!"
"Don't worry, I intend to!"
With that, they charged again. Kazuma quickly stepped to the side and swung his blade, sparks flying as the blade skids across the shaft.
The man quickly kicked him away. "Is that the best you can do?!" He twirled his spear and jabbed the point.
Sparks flew again and again as both of their weapons struck against each otherother, and none of them backing down as they appear to be matched. The man started to grow weary as so did the other, his surprise barely leaving him as he stared at his own enemy.
From the sword and they way he fought, it wasn't normal, nor did the style of it. He uses it like some sort of rod, from the way he twirls it like a baton, and he also uses it like a knife as well.
"I think it's easier if you just give up" He said, twirling his blade. "You're getting tired, and weary."
That was the last straw, he charged again.
At this point. He decided to end it.
He raised the spear up high, and brought it down hard. The blade clashed against the glowing blade.
"You should've went for a stab." The necromancer said as he looks at him. "This ends here."
With the blade glowing as bright as it can go, he swung the blade and burned through the man's weapon.
The fighting ceased as silence wafted through the air. From the Champions, to the dead, to the Orcs, Men, Imps, they watched two of them stare at each others eyes.
Then the man fell in two pieces...
Orcs roared and fled in fear, men dropped their weapons and ran as fast as they can while Imps clung to their backs.
Kazuma watched on as they fled with their tails between their legs, his face almost indescribable other than a sheer face of... Either disappointment, incredulous, or downright confused.
"That was it...?" He muttered. "These are the Black Dogs that brought the Kingdom down to it's knees? The entire... continent... them? THEM?! YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"
He yelled to the sky, clutching his head. He was baffled beyond belief.
"At least I have better soldiers now..." He grumbled as he looked into the sea of corpses.
Dead men, dead orcs, and dead imps. With the weapons scrawled across the battlefield, it made it easier for them to arm them.
He sighed to himself and just does what he's been doing, and that is raising the dead.
...
'Fuck me, I forgot about the horse...'
He groans and slumps his shoulders in defeat.
The Mountain just looked at him blankly, and simply just hoisted him onto her shoulder as if he was a child that wanted a piggyback ride.
"Why are you-"
She growled at him, wanting him to stay shut as she marched on with the others.
"Now that I think about it... I never knew your real name. People just called you "The Mountain" all the time." He asked.
Silence was the only answer he got.
"It's Mireen..." She said.
"Mireen? Sounds like a nice name."
Her undead eyes merely rolled. She just couldn't care.
=Five Days Later=
"Can you stop it with that coin? It's pissing me off." The brunette flinched and quickly grabbed the coin from the air. "Sorry, sir."
"No need for that. If you have that coin, at least buy yourself a mug."
Dennis thought about it. One coin for a mug of ale? how good will that be at such a cheap price?
"Anything for a coin?" He asked, handing the coin over to the barkeep.
As the man grabbed the coin from his palm, he looked at it with scrutiny. A shiny gold coin, far shinier than any shilling he's ever seen, if he's willing to be honest.
"I think you might like this."
And with that, the barkeep walked off, leaving the brunette behind.
Minutes passed by as it almost became an eternity for some people. Dennis didn't mind at all for he can wait, the one thing that did put a sour taste on his mouth. The deal with the whores inside the tavern, he doesn't mind, but he still finds it absurd as to why they're here. He might as well be saying that they should be in a brothel instead.
Doesn't help too as he can see the looks on their faces. Some maybe there, enjoying their time as they're spitroasted on the tables, of wailing in ecstasy as both of their holes are pounded with cocks in a rough, sloppy gangbang... He's a lot more concerned by the other ones, how they're faces contort with disgust despite them moaning in pleasure. He couldn't help but pity them... much less feel suspicious that there's something wrong going on.
"You look like you're enjoying yourself there."
The brunette jumped when he heard that.
"What are ya, a scared cat?" The man knocked him on the head with a smile. "I ain't that threatening, even for a boy like you."
Dennis rubbed the sore spot on his head as he looked at the man; He noted the ragged features of his face, making him assume he's about 30-50 in terms of age, the moustache and beard adding along to that. Lightly armored with a padded gambeson, and with a small Arsenal of knives, a pair of kukris and daggers, not to mention the swords sheathed on his back and waist, he has definitely seen his fair share of battle.
"What's your name, boy?" He asked.
"Dennis... Dennis Whaiteley Moore."
"That's your name?" He asked with a flabbergasted look. "For someone like you, I was expecting something like "Tyrion", "Tommen", maybe even a "Daley". What are you, a Highborn?"
Dennis can only shake his head. "A name's a name, and I'm happy with that name."
"Bronn..." He introduced. "Just Bronn."
He later sat down next to him, and just in time as the barkeep finally arrived with his drink. Flatly laying it down on the desk in front of the boy.
With a simple thank you, he grabbed the mug and took a swig.
"Hmmmm... Creamy... Buttery... what is this?"
"Something I came up with. With the way you said it, I might as well call it Butterbeer." The barkeep joked as he just watched him down it down like a dehydrated man in a desert. "And in case you wonder."
Dennis set the mug down and looked at him.
"If you're looking for some coin, I suggest you get a job. I think I have just a thing for you."
"And what would that be?"
The barkeep gave him a smile as he grabbed two posters, one is a wanted poster of a man named "Lommie" with a bounty 500 shills, and a flyer for a scouting party.
"Choose one or all of them, doesn't really matter which one you pick."
As he looked at the two flyers, he couldn't help but be drawn to the second one. A scouting for what exactly? Is it a band of bandits, or something else?
"What's the deal with the other one?" He asked, pointing to it.
"There have been rumors of a necromancer crawling around these lands. Witnesses say that it's been slaughtering every single outlaw it comes across aand adding them to an undead army." The barkeep said with a bit of a somber tone. "Guess that time's coming for us."
The two men just looked at him I'm confusion.
"I don't have to say anything to him, he already knows what went on, but before you came here, things were different."
"How different?"
"Different to the point it's vastly unrelated to the day were now living in. I maybe a young man, but my father regaled me tales on the land... if memory serves me right, this very continent was once at peace, and was ruled between Celestine and Olga. They were once friends until one day, they started... hating each other. The continent was split between the two of them, and generations went on by with a war between those two. What makes it different now is what's happening right now."
The foreigner simply raised a brow at that. "You mean the whores?"
"Yep." the barkeep continued. "The Black Dogs were the only ones left to carry an assault to the Black Fortress, and their victory is both a miracle and a mystery. They managed to end the war, but they rebelled and decided to turn this entire country into a brothel." Then his laughs a little bit. "I can't get over the name... "Cuntry"?! Ahaahhahahahahahah! that's what were calling this place now."
Dennis only had a perplexed look on his face. Disgusted? Yes. Concerned? Also a yes. Yet, he couldn't believe it.
"It's true, lad." Bronn chimed in as he gave him a pat on the back. "Been that way since. I care less, but it's a little annoying. Don't even get me started on the slaves."
"Slaves?"
Bronn just gave a nod. "Everyone didn't like this silly little takeover, but they didn't have a choice. The men were either killed off or enslaved with their children, for the pretty ones, they're turned into their personal little cocksleeves. I would like it if I can take a walk outside without the streets smelling like an orgy."
Sympathy came to the foreigner... He held Bronn on the shoulder and gave it a rub.
"I'm sorry for what happened."
"Don't be, it has nothing to do with you. What matters now is that necromancer. We're gonna see how much of a problem he is." He got up from the seat and walked off. "Come on, we have enough horses for another member."
"Another?"
Brown gave him a nod. "There's an entire party of us out on the same job, and I'm only in on the gold... well, that's a lie. If there's a necromancer making an undead army, who knows what he'll do next, and I'll be a fool if I think that is gonna be the one that saves us all."
And with that, he left the tavern.
Dennis thought about the proposal. Sure, he may need the money, but he's just a foreigner. What business does he have in this continent. Yet, he wondered what could've happened.
With a while of thinking, he made up his mind. He got up and left, taking the flyer with him with one reason.
He's not doing this for the gold, but for everyone else's safety.
