As one, Mira and Tessanna spoke, their voices impossibly loud. All for miles clearly heard their words.
“Long I have watched,” they cried. “Long I have slumbered. But the Balance is broken. My world, my beloved creation, is ruined. A demon army marches, to free whom I have imprisoned. So be it. If Balance is to tumble, then let it tumble, but not without a chance for redemption. I have been given a sign of faith, and of hope. If Karak is to have his demons, then I will give Ashhur his angels.”
A sound greater than any thunder resounded throughout the vale. The western sky split. All who looked saw a land golden and shimmering, and from it flew men with white wings and golden armor. They were in exact number as Ulamn’s troops, who raised their weapons and shouted in bitter hatred.
Just as sudden as it had opened the tear in the sky closed. The thunder quieted. The angels flew in their formations, over Mordeina and straight for the war demons.
“S uch hypocrisy,” Velixar seethed, his whole body shaking with rage. “The whore promises neutrality, and yet releases Ashhur’s soldiers while keeping Karak imprisoned?”
“It is her last gasp,” Qurrah said as he held Tessanna in his arms. The girl had collapsed after issuing her statements, her eyes closed and her body limp. “She cannot stop us on her own.”
“Destroy the fools on the ground,” Ulamn said as he spread his wings. “We will massacre Ashhur’s soldiers and then move onto the city. We will not fail here!”
The demon took to the sky, commanding his troops and preparing for the assault. Velixar issued an order, and at once his multitude of undead lumbered forward, to bury Harruq and his allies under their sheer weight and number.
“T ime for some fun,” Tarlak said, cracking his knuckles. Mira lay beside him, her back propped against the ledge. She was still breathing, so he assumed she would recover, he just didn’t know when. Being possessed by a goddess certainly wasn’t something he was familiar with. Praying she would be fine, he looped his hands about and hurled a ball of flame through the air. Its aim was true, and it exploded amid a massive amount of undead, consuming their corpses. He chuckled and prepared another.
“Do as much damage while they are still packed tight,” Dieredon said from behind him. Tarlak turned to see the elf riding Sonowin.
“Planned on it,” Tarlak said as he tipped his hat.
Dieredon saluted back, then yanked on Sonowin’s reins. Horse and rider soared over the wall, just ahead of the first wave of angels. He released the reins and drew his bow, trusting his mount. He drew three arrows from his quiver, their tips glistening with holy water. He pulled all three back and fired into the horde of demons, each one piercing through armor, wing, or flesh. Spears flew his direction, but Sonowin dodged with ease. Dieredon fired volley after volley, until the army was almost upon him. He then looped his bow about his back, grabbed the reins, and dove.
High above him the angels and demons clashed, showering the ground below with blood.
“S low their approach,” Haern shouted to Aurelia as the waves of undead charged.
Aurelia stood, all emotion draining from her face as she prepared for battle. Frost wafted from her fingers as she they danced. Giant boulders of ice leaped from her hands, rolling through the ranks of undead. She then created a wall of fire, stretching for hundreds of yards. Wave after wave marched through it, burning skin and setting bodies aflame.
Then the wall of fire vanished as quickly as Aurelia had summoned it. Velixar approached, Qurrah and Krieger at his sides.
“It’s been a long time, elf,” Velixar shouted as his undead marched past him. Aurelia shivered, remembering her battle in Woodhaven years ago. She had thrown everything at him, and he had only laughed. She hurled a bolt of lightning, not at him, but at his minions. Velixar countered, stretching his arms and sending a shimmering black sphere directly in its path. The lightning struck the sphere and dissipated.
“Keep him occupied,” Lathaar said to Aurelia as they braced themselves. “And we’ll keep us alive.”
“Flee you fool,” Qurrah shouted to his brother.
“You stay and fight the dead if you want,” Harruq said, shaking his head. “I’m going for him.”
He charged, slamming through the undead as if they were an inconvenience at best. His twin blades sliced through rotted flesh, leaving a crimson afterimage as they spun and cut.
“Send your troops around back,” Velixar ordered Krieger before casting another spell. A dark mist rose from the ground, swirling into his undead as if their open wounds were breathing it in. Their rotten flesh tightened. Their lumbering gaits quickened. With beyond human strength they struck, and Harruq found himself on the defensive, parrying and dodging their punches and bites.
Jerico and Lathaar sang a song to Ashhur as they fought, even as their bodies cringed at the sheer strength ramming against their weapons and shield. Haern fought as he had in Veldaren, spinning and weaving around the two paladins, so that if either faltered he was there, cutting down an attacker with a precise strike from his sabers. Dieredon flew over, raining down arrows before banking around, dodging a bolt of shadow Qurrah threw at him.
“You fight valiantly,” Qurrah said to his brother, who struggled a mere ten feet away, unable to pass through the waves of undead that seemed unending. “Throw down your weapons, and perhaps you will live.”
A ball of flame exploded among the undead ranks to his right, no doubt a gift from Tarlak.
“I know!” Harruq shouted, ignoring his offer. “I know about your child! I know about your promise!”
Qurrah staggered as if struck by an arrow. He glanced at Tessanna, who was just beginning to stir.
“You know nothing,” he hissed, shadows stretching and growing about his body. “I will end you, worm.”
All around them bodies crashed to the ground, both angel and demon. Qurrah mashed his hands together, and between his fingers thin darts of darkness shot toward Harruq, over fifty in number. Harruq spun his blades as he turned, avoiding most, and the ones that did bite into his skin, he ignored. They did no real damage, instead flooding his body with incredible pain. The half-orc chuckled. Apparently his brother didn’t realize just how much his pain threshold had increased.
He chopped down two more undead, spun his swords in a circle to shred four more and lunged, the way to his brother clear. Qurrah drew his whip and lashed the ground, eager to put an end to his guilt.
T wo more bolts of lightning streaked from her hands, and each one Velixar absorbed with orbs of shadow. When she hurled a third directly at him, he smirked and swatted it aside as if it were a fly. The bolt veered into the air, killing several of the aerial combatants.
“Behind us!” Haern shouted as he leaped over Jerico, the paladin slamming his shield into a large skeletal undead. Its bones exploded into chalk under the tremendous glow. The assassin pointed his sabers, even though he doubted either Aurelia or the paladins would be able to spare the moment to see. Twenty dark paladins rode on horseback around the ranks of the dead, curling about with an obvious goal. They would flank them all, and pressed on both sides the Eschaton would fall.
Haern felt panic claw his gut, but when he glanced back at the city, he laughed. Perhaps things weren’t as dire as he thought. Two balls of fire detonated around the dark paladins, courtesy of Tarlak, and as they angled their charge they saw Antonil and his troops, numbering two hundred to their twenty. Antonil led the way, his sword held high. Krieger tried to turn about, but the distance was not enough.
“Ram them!” Antonil shouted. “Do not engage, just send them to the dirt!”
The fight was quick but brutal. Antonil’s men gave no care for their own safety, even knowing the dark paladins’ strength and skill. Instead, their horses slammed directly into them, plowing bodies together and toppling them from their mounts. Those that stayed seated were vastly outnumbered, and could only turn and flee. Seven of the twenty managed to remain mounted and escape. Krieger was not one of those twenty.
Antonil pressed on, many of his own men dead or dismounted. They picked up speed, and as one, the soldiers shouted the name of their king. They rode through the waves of dead surrounding the Eschaton, crushing them with their sheer weight. Velixar attacked them with boulders of lava, but this time it was Aurelia who countered, ripping chunks of earth from the ground and forcing them back.
“Where are my tested?” Velixar shouted. “Where are my priests?” A ball of fire flew just over his head, decimating twenty more undead in its explosion. “And will someone kill that damn mage?”
Behind the rows of undead, the tested sang their own song of Karak’s glory, their skeletal hands raised to the sky. They pushed through the dead, eager for their chance at combat. The priests, however, remained at the back, gathered together in a tremendous circle. They were casting a spell, but he could not tell what. Velixar glanced at the sky, where the battle was still undecided. His priests could turn the battle, bombarding Harruq and his allies
