The Mountain

"Quickly, we must hurry," the captain yelled at his troops, "the enemy is on our heels. They won't stop. We must get to higher ground and drive them off." Astride his horse he stood beside his men, trying to rally what was left of their courage.

They were marching up a steep mountainside, with a horde of undead quickly on their heels. Their scouts up ahead reported it was clear, and the enemy behind was drawing closer. The dead needed no rest, but these humans did. They were tired, a three week siege, and a two day chase. They had thought they were safe, camped, and half their men were slaughtered in their sleep. Others were killed defending their last hope for a kingdom. Their princess.

"At the top of this mountain, is an old fortress, we can defend ourselves there." The cavalry was already there, having charged ahead carving a swath through enemy territory. They had even sent back runners to report. "It's just three more miles to salvation." Some of the men were willing to just lay down and die, but the others were ready to fight. They just needed the proper motivation, and everything he was trying to to, didn't seem to be working.

Troops at the front, caravan in the middle, troops at the rear. The cavalry was gone. They were alone for the next three miles, two-hundred men. Two-hundred starving, sleep depraved men. It was a long trip, not just because it was an uphill run, but because it was a slow trip. The princess was in the middle, the last of the royal lineage.

He could hear the undead, and knew they were close. The men became spooked, they would be slaughtered here, fighting an enemy they can't truely defend against, not now. "I need twenty of our strongest, and bravest. We will go and slow the enemy's advances."

Only ten stepped forward. The captain sighed deeply, "Is there no others?!" Five more stepped forward. He understood, "This will have to do, grab axes and swords, leave any bows and spears with our comrades and follow me." He dismounted, and took an axe from one of his soldiers, handing over his horse and bow. "Take the men, and lead them to the fortress. Keep them safe." This was a soldier he knew from a while back, but had been to busy lately to keep up. They grabbed each other by the shoulders, exchanged words with glances, then went their seperate ways.

"Captain Lazarus, let's go! We don't have much time!"

Lazarus nodded, and then began to chop a tree, "Cut down as many as these as you can, five men per tree. We'll roll them down the path and slow their main forces." The soldiers nodded and began chopping, and had six tree's down in less than ten minutes.

"Cut them into logs slightly smaller than the path, and roll them. Then run for fortress, and make sure the men get moving as well. I'll stay and kill as many as I can.

The men looked solemn, then began doing as he said, the logs were ready before they knew it, and the undead were not even twenty feet away.

"Move now!" None of his soldiers moved. They stood their ground with their captain. They drew swords and held axes at the ready.

Almost in unison, they all spoke, "This oath, that I have taken. To defend the royal lineage of Di'Sigmi, the sons and daughters of Heironeous himself, will guide me through the battle I fight this day," Lazarus seemed touched, but shook the feeling quickly, then began chanting with them, "the battles I fight everyday. The oath is Heironeous himself. Incarnate in my blade, my spear, my bow, my arrows. I am the will, the arm, the oath of Heironeous, and I will my battle, for Valor itself!"

The men then charged down the slope, screaming their warshouts, and plowed into the undead that were trying to recover from the logs. The sliced off heads, and snapped off limbs with their axes. They used shield and sword to defend those who they could. One man would fall, and another would jump in his place to destroy the murderer. The undead were unphased, some moved past, their only goal the last lineage of Heironeous, the others were trying to swamp these sixteen defenders.

"Warchief, shouldn't we assist? They are worshipers of Heironeous, our allies."

The warchief shook his head slowly, "Not yet, wait. Wait until we can split off their army's head."

The animal skinned warriors seemed shaken, their warchief was right, but they didn't want to see men slaughtered. But they were unfathomably loyal to their chief, and stood their ground and watched as they were slowly picked off.

"This may be our last men, but it will not be our least. We can take atleast one hundred of these damn forsaken bastards." He spoke while ripping a zombies arm from his, and then slicing it off. He roared out a battle cry, but an arrow struck him square in the shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon. And though stupid, they were not without a semblance of intelligence the undead began to swarm, knowing their victim was now weak. Lazarus spoke a final prayer, and closed his eyes waiting for death.

"Come on, just a mile further, the captain and our comrades aren't far behind, can see the signal fires from the fort! Hurry!" The soldier amount the captains horse was now acting captain, and hasn't had much experience with leading soldiers, so he knew not how to rally their hearts as well as their body's. He frowned, the captain was late, he should've been back by now. He stared down the path, hoping...praying.

The death he awaited, the rending of his flesh, his limbs being removed from his body. But it never came, all he remembers hearing was a horn blaring, and then grunts and roars of battle, he slowly opened his eyes. In his face was a man with beard, seemingly bigger than the giant of a man. He knew him though, and couldn't help but smile. But he knew the battle still waged around him and he reached for his sword, but it wasn't where he dropped it. He found it being handed to him by his old friend.

"Almost died I see. You humans are so soft." He let out a load roar of a laugh, and smashed his giant axe through an approaching zombie. Then reached down and picked up the fallen knight. "You little fool, you knew it was almost suicide coming up here."

"What the bloody hell took you so damn long!" He grabbed his sword from the giant and sliced a zombies arm off, then cut his barely attached head off. "Well?! I lost over a hundred men on this hills, and the princess!!" He turned to his friend, while the undead were being held off by the giants of the mountain tribes. "I mean really, Garuf, what the hell?!"

He frowned, "We had to be sure it wasn't an undead trick. We weren't sure until you were...Well you know." He turned and chopped a zombie asunder with his mighty axe. "Besides, this is only their forward assault, they have plenty more troops where this came from. Not to mention the abominations that they have been creating at that citadel of theirs."

Lazarus nodded, "Right, let's get moving, who knows how long until they send more. We can outrun this scum, but we need to make it to the fortress. It's our only hope." He picked up one of his wounded soldiers and threw him over his shoulder, as did a few of his better conditioned troops, and the giants took care of the rest.

Garuf turned to his warriors still holding off the zombies, "As soon as we are far enough, turn and run yourselves, hold them off for now." The men agreed with a grunt and a few strokes from axes and swords.

The small band of fifty giants and ten men began running up the slope, it was a long run until the fortress, hopefully it would be ready when they got there. His men had their orders.

"Come'on, everyone hurry into the fort, we have alot of preperations to make. Eat some dry rations, get a portion of water, and then I want everyone with a bow on the walls. I want some of the cavalry to ready the gates to be opened and then closed once more, some more to start cutting down tree's and bringing the logs in here, I want every available hand to begin scavenging for as much food and water as you can, and the rest set up a barrier around the princess' caravan. We fight to the death here." He picked up the captains bow, dismounted from the horse, and went to the top of the wall, and began watching the path for their real captain, their real leader.

"What provisions do you have at your camps? What warriors are remaining?"
"Not many, I left only the strongest and most skilled to the defend the villages. I wanted my best to lead the others to the fortress." He seemed gruff, "Provisions though...We brought plenty." He smiled at that, and patted his wolf-skin pack. "We're almost there, do you want me to carry you?"

"No, I can make it." He was holding his shoulder, the arrow still jutting from it. " The bleeding had stopped, but once he removes it, it'll begin again, and he can't have that right now.

"Alright, my men are leading the women and children to the fortress, and before we ever arrive, they'll be preparing for our arrival. We know these woods and their paths better than any. Besides they are in small groups and can take the easier paths."

Lazarus nodded, but still seemed quirked about the whole thing. "Your villages have had no attacks, no raids, or anything in the past week?"

Garuf seemed confused, "No, we have suffered no attacks."

Lazarus frowned, "That doesn't bode well..."

Things were going well back at the fort, the defenses were ready, and the men were lining the walls with boiling oil and arrow barrels from the caravans. When shouting began from the east wall, the replacement captain thought the undead had already reached the fortress. "Whats the matter, are they here already?!"

"No," one soldier yelled, "re-inforcements!" the men were rushing to the gates, taking down the barricades, as their giant re-inforcements were coming around to the only gate.

"Get the damn gates open!"

When the gates were down the men began ushering in the women and children, and the warriors came in last, after all their young and weak were in. One of the giants spoke, standing almost four feet over the tallest human, "We have brought fresh meat, and plenty of strong warriors." The lead warrior bowed his head to the temporary captain, "We are at your command."

"I can see the gates Garuf. We're almost there." Lazarus said, smiling for the first time in weeks. "Use a signal torch, let them know we are coming."

Garuf laughed and nodded, grabbing a torch from one of the running human soldiers, and lighting it with a chant. Then waving it in the air.

Lazarus was giving the giant a puzzled look, "I didn't know you knew magic!"

"Not much, just a little that a wandering mage taught me. Said it was better than flint and steel." He chuckled, then noticed the gate was open. "We must hurry."

They were at and within the gates within five minutes, Lazarus already barking orders. "Close that gate, get on the walls, the undead were right behind us." he grabbed a bow and a quiver and charged up to the ramparts, notching an arrow to the string and waited, like all the others on the wall. And waited.

The wait wasn't long, the undead were knocking on the door in minutes. The disgusting sins against man had been dragging siege weapons, and bloated corpses that looked ready to explode were being dragged against the doors. They used these same techniques at Castle Sigmi, using the bloated zombies as bombs and the siege engines to rip down the walls. Though this fortress' walls were taller than others, and the structures were all built on a slope, making it even more difficult, as it was an uphill battle for the attackers. The fort itself was built along time ago, back when the humans and giants lived together, there were still signs of it, as the castle gates were made for giants, and the keep built into the mountains was huge. The walls were made of solid granite, that no human, even with a horse and pulley, could've lifted. There were still old camp fires, probably from bandits or wanderers, but there was no such thing there now. Infact, the giants had been clearing the mountain and it's surrounding woods of all bandit activity the past few years, then the Citadel appeared.

The humans thought nothing of it at first, seeing as how many dark gods bloom and fall within the same year, mostly from in-fighting and the vigilance of Heironeous. But this was different. Entire villages began disappearing, and people long dead, and many missing, had been seen wandering around in villages right before they were wiped off the map. Thats when King Sigmi decided it was time for action, and launched half his knights and soldiers against the Citadel. Only one-hundred of the five thousand sent returned, and they brought dread news.

Dark creatures, and people they knew, their own men dying, then rising again to turn on them. The castle was prepared for a counter-assault, all surrounding and surviving villages were gathered into the castle, everyone was put to work in the fields, large harvests, were gathered, and hunters were sent enmass. The local wildlife was nearly exhausted, and all the livestock was put in small cramped pens, ready to be used when the current food was gone. It was only three months, and the abominations were seen creating camps for their dark masters. Vampires, demons, and creatures of unfathomable evil.

It only took them one day to begin the siege, starting by surrounding the castle, preventing any messengers from getting out. They tried, and the messengers were destroyed. There were uncountable enemies outside the gate, the King grabbed, his sword, and donned his armor, vowing to break through and retreat from this castle. Retreat into the mountains, seek help from the giants. They opened the gates, and the knights charged out first, cutting deep swaths in the enemy's army. The knights, powerful paladins of Heironeous, were no match for the numbers, the caravans and soldiers came next, marching together. The knights surrounded the caravan and led them out throught he hole they made in the army, though the undead were beginning to swarm on them.

The King noticed a demon mounted on a flaming horse, it was speaking in a horrible tongue, that the sound of alone, hurt his ears. He charged at the demon, sword in the air, tower shield at his side. He let out a battle cry and swung his sword down, the demon stood unphased by the blow, acting as if nothing had happened. He turned his attention slowly to the man, eyeing him, before holding up an arm, which the king tried to remove from the body, only to have his blade break on his skin. An eruption of fire and demonic energy blasted the king, disentegrating and destroying everything in it's path.

The knights had cut a hole in the undead army, and stood fighting, preventing them from swarming back around, not letting them through. Lazarus was charged with protecting the caravan, and the last line of the Di'Sigmi family. And was sent with the soldiers, only five-hundred were sent to the mountain fortress, long forgotten by many. The rest were to follow after the caravan was out of sight, keeping the undead back. But after the caravan was gone, and the knights and soldiers were beginning their retreat, five demon mounted creatures stood in their path, the knights and soldiers charged, but were overwhelmed by their power. Their blades cut down ten men with each swing, their battle cry's were enough to make men weep, and their faces, their horrid faces made mens hearts stop. There was no stopping them.

But that was then, this was now. They had nothing left to lose, except their lives. And this was their last stand. Only one-hundred knights, one-hundred soldiers, and two-hundred giants stood against the creatures that lay siege to their last sanctum. The demons that were at the castle, though nowhere in sight, could be felt everywhere in this unholy army. And they would soon show themselves. To end the siege, if their minions could not.

"Poor the boiling oil over, then take whats left and soak the logs. Set them ablaze and let's see how they like the flames of Heironeous!" Lazarus scram while firing arrows, two at a time into the army. "Show them what it means to fight with the last of Heironeous' army!" He could feel it, their morale leaving, everyone could feel it. They were getting nowhere, every zombie they dropped, ten would take it's place, and there seemed to be no end. The giants were hurling rocks, and pieces of fort that got torn down. But it was to no avail, the exploding corpses blew open the gate, they were met with the giants axes, and knights spells and swords. "Retreat to the keep, or grab a sword, don't let them get to the princess."
Things seemed hopeless outside, she could hear the castles gates being torn asunder. She knew the time was near, it would be all over soon. She stood, clutching a pendant that hung from her neck, and spoke softly, "What am I supposed to do?"

A soft voice spoke in her mind, and she could closed her eyes listening, "You know what to do, they have to be stopped. Their Citadels are everywhere, Hexter is on Terra, and I cannot stop him here. His worshippers are too many, and spreading. Entire kingdoms have already fallen, even Thor and Odin are weakening. You must act, you have the power to end it."

"But..." She opened her eyes, letting out a deep sigh, she knew what she had to do, and left her chambers, all the men were outside fighting. There would be no one to stop her. She climbed the flight of stairs, leading to the roof, soldiers, too busy to notice, ran past her, swords and bows in hand, joining the fray. It was pointless though, the undead army was large. And there was nothing any mortal could do to stop them. It was up to her.

Lazarus had actually been fighting so hard, that he found himself outside the gates, him and Garuf were fighting side by side, back to back. Garuf was taking out atleast five zombies with every swing, and even matching the skeletal abominations that the demons had created. Garuf and Lazarus stopped, the zombies began their retreat, injured men were being dragged back, "We haven't won this, whats going on?!"

Then without being told, they knew. The five demons had appeared, their presence was strong enough to make some men scream in agony, but not Lazarus, or Garuf. They both stood their ground. The demons didn't seemed phased, but that was to be expected. The stood, an arms length apart, the masses of the undead standing only two feet behind them. It would be over soon.

The princess was standing on the roof of the keep, holding her pendant in the air, surrounded by archers and soldiers. They didn't know what was happening, but they didn't need to. She held the pendant in the air, and she closed her eyes, and in seconds, her entire being was glowing, and the light was spreading, slowly, but gaining momentum.

Lazarus and Garuf charged at the demons. Lazarus made a wide swing with his blade, and Garuf swung his axe over his head. But the demons countered, one holding his blade to the side, deflecting the blow, and the other held it over his head, stopping the axe with unholy strength. Two of the demons turn to Garuf, while and swung dark blades, that seared and rended his flesh. Two other demons turned to Lazarus and swinging blades, Lazarus only took one blow to his arm, the other was deflected deftly by Lazarus' dirk.

The demons raised their blades, to bring them down all at once, but a light from behind made them flinch, and Lazarus took his oppurtunity, slicing one across the stomach, wholly removing the torso from the waist. The demon shrieked, and the others turned, seemingly astonished that one was defeated. Garuf swung his giant axe, embedding down all the way to the torso in one of the distracted demons, it just slumped, and he kicked it off his weapon. The three remaining, suddenly realizing they were not as undefeatable as thought, backed a step up, and the humans inside the fort charged out, the giants were in the lead, and they were blasting their way through the undead, charging down the hill, clouds of arrows falling into the undead behind the demons.

The light from the princess was shining like the sun. But the light didn't hurt the soldiers eyes, it soothed their souls, and they feeled refreshed, as if they slept for days and had just finished eating at a feast. Their arrows flew true, hitting a mark and killing every time, every blade swung was another zombie down, wounds didn't seem to be affecting them any more. They were like machines, fleshy machines walking down the mountain, pushing the undead back. The giants were sending zombies flying, and cutting them in half.

Lazarus raised his blade high, a glowing light generating from him like the princess. "Forward, let's not make this our last stand, let's finish off these unholy creatures once and for all!" He then broke into a run, and charged head first into the masses, slicing down demon, undead, and knocking down many zombies to be finished by the trampling of feet. But something didn't seem right, like this battle would never be over, and then the rumbling began, the light turned searing, and everything went white.

He could hear people screaming, not just humans, but undead and demons as well. And then everything went black.

And the world was desolate. A wasteland, the trees were all but gone, and the animals, very few were still alive. Nothing was left, but a desert wasteland, waiting to be re-populated. Very few structures were left unscathed, and the black citadels that once dotted the landscape, were nothing but ruins. But life would carry on, there were still plenty of places that were green, unaffected by the raging torent of flames, the destruction wrought by the final battle on the mountain. Who knew how long it would take before the world was once again ready. One person knew, he knew all to well.

Lazarus stood at the top of the keep, a few soldiers still around. His arm a black char color. He stared down at the desolation, and knew, knew it was the only thing to do. He hung his head in sorrow, and raised his blade, as did all the soldiers, and then they drove it through their own chests, to join their brethren in the halls of Valhalla.

It would take ten-thousand years before life would once again flourish.