Death Song

You know that this is most likely a losing battle, but some hope might be gained, if you can somehow draw out the knights and specters and get them by themselves. As powerful as they are, they're very hard to control even by necromancers and get easily agitated by living creatures.

You can't do it alone though. You take your best archers and a couple of your best wizards and mention your plan. You don't ask for volunteers, you just assign. You're in charge and you have to make the hard decisions, even if it might mean you'll die. They don't look enthused, but you aren't either.

You tell everyone else to hold their ground while you and your small platoon ride towards the horde.

"Ready those blessed silvers men, and you robe wearers melt those dead tin cans!"

You get close enough and you unleash as many blessed silver arrows as you can at the Blood Specters. You kill a few. The wizards don't do quite as well with the knights. However, both attacks are enough.

You see the Specters and Knights making whatever unearthly noises they do and begin to advance towards you far ahead of the slower yet steady moving horde. It apparent that the necromancer controlling them is attempting to bring them back under control, because they begin to squirm back and forth which gives you some more time to kill a few more during their confusion. Eventually the necromancer must give up total control because they stop squirming and advance upon you once again.

You ride back as quickly as possible with the Specters and Knights in full pursuit. You didn't expect those Specters to be so fast. A few of them manage to catch up to some of your men with grisly results. You yourself almost get smacked upside the head by a Death Knight mace. When you get back in range the rest of your awaiting army deals with your pursuers. More blessed arrows fly into the Blood Specters before they can do anymore harm, and eventually the Death Knights are brought down as well.

There is no time for a reprieve though, as the main horde is now almost upon you. You order a regrouping as best you can, and face the enemy, telling if possible for someone to aim for the necromancer in all of this rotting mess.

Bones and limbs from both sides are broken and hacked off. A zombie skull is smashed, splashing maggots, blood and brains all over you and you're not even thinking about it. You just have a tune in your head to take yourself away from the massacre. Somehow in all of the chaos, you single out the necromancer leading this army, he stands a far piece away from the main fighting, but he's arrogant enough to be close enough for you to hit him with an arrow.

And you have to hit him now. You see a Grand Alliance soldier who just took a fatal blow to the chest begin to rise…

Not many arrows left and not much time, you just load up and shoot, hoping you hit the bastard.

Your shot is straight and true. It strikes the necromancer in the stomach, causing him to fall back, which in turn causes the undead horde to momentarily stop their vicious attacks, giving your side a chance to turn the tide a bit.

Then you shoot another arrow when you see the necromancer attempt to get back up, which turns the tide completely in your favor. Zombies and skeletons fall. Ghouls flee at the loss of leadership and any remaining undead are quickly dispatched. You don't take chances though. You walk up to the corpse of the necromancer and shoot your last arrow directly into his head and stab him a few times.

You then start laughing.

"If this was the Great Lich Lord, I'd be a real hero right now!"

You quickly sober up from this macabre outburst when you hear shouting from some of your men and you look up.

It's another horde. Just as big. You look behind you and see that your own numbers are completely insufficient. The Garwold citizens are either mostly dead or demoralized at this point.

Even when you win…you lose.

Having no real options, you sound a retreat to fall back to the Zalan border and suggest that the Garwold citizens do likewise as there is nothing more for them here.

The Garwold Confederacy is now just one more loss for the living. The Zalan Empire won't be far behind.

Three years pass…

Ten years since the Nuro incident and The Grand Alliance is nearly just consisting of the Zalan Empire now, which in turn has had to adapt a siege mentality. There is no "going on the offensive" anymore. You're purely on defense.

Your brother Mallack died two years ago. Transferred to a location with more fighting due to lack of manpower. Like it matters. Didn't even get to say goodbye. You can only hope he didn't become one of those things…but you know he probably did.

You've been urging your family to run where it's safer, but of course they won't budge. The undead have been penetrating deeper into Zalan territory, you know it's only a matter of time before the Great Lich Lord decides to stop toying with you and makes his full scale attack.

Sure enough it happens. Town after town is taken; you're pushed back further and further, and you know there's nothing you can do to stop it.

An order is given to everyone to fallback to the capital and help defend it from an upcoming attack, but at this point you're just wondering if the rest of your family is still alive.
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