A cacophany of bells rang out in Zenith, echoing between the tall, bright towers, and sending the few who had dared to remain in the city into blind panic. Men ran looking for their women, women ran looking for their children and children cried as they together abandoned almost everything they owned. The ringing didn't stop, coming from the western wall of the city, driving the inhabitants away and calling the guard to arms.
Within minutes, a host had assembled before the great western gate, their polished armor glittering in the early sunlight as they watched the monstrous timber doors swing open before them. Almost every man seemed shaken to his very bones, as though the panicked clamor of the bells had resonated into their very souls, affecting their organization and ruining their tactical formations. Only one man seemed to keep his head. Striding between the scurrying men, Argus stood proud and tall. Captain of the guard of Zenith and hero of the realm, the white steel of his armor almost seemed to glow as he roared orders so loud they carried over the bells, and soon an arc of men stood before the gate. Spread among them, there stood men in red robes, chanting words in a strange tongue, and within moments the air before the assembled men began rippling, as though a great bubble was reaching up into the sky before them. Argus finally seemed satisfied that his men were in order, and he took his position at the very head of the arc, just as a cry echoed from the wall. His dark grey eyes glared out across the tilled fields ahead of him, and his heart sank as he saw his scouts had told the truth. He drew a great, gold trimmed blade from his back, nearly as long as he was tall, and hid his golden locks beneath a horned helmet, readying to hold the line against impossible odds.
A lone man had slowly emerged from between the trunks of the Kroan Forest, walking towards the city as though he hadn't a care in the world. His black, ragged cloak would have made him seem a simple beggar or trader of some kind, but for the fact that it seemed almost to disperse into little rivulets of shadow as it neared his feet, like a constant aura of darkness oozing from his shoulders. As he stomped relentlessly forward, the guards readied their weapons, drawing swords, spears, bowstrings taut with arrows held steady. The man stopped, a black leather boot crunching down into the earth as if he weighed many times his apparent size. He looked up, letting his shoulder length black hair fall away from his eyes, baring his long and sharply featured face. his eyes were what drew the attention of all who could see him at that distance. They were pure black, no pupil nor white to define them, a dark mockery of life which promised neither mercy nor compassion. He looked from one end of the arc assembled before him to the other, then locked eyes with Argus. A wicked grin spread across the beast of a man’s face, and he lifted a hand slowly up to point at the great city before him.
As the tip of his finger aligned with Argus, a great rumbling in the earth fueled the terror of the men before him, growing with alarming speed until it seemed the very earth of Edulrez had turned on the men. Then screams of fear went up in the army, as a foul horde of beings roared from between the boughs of the trees, charging at them with unnatural speed, howling and yelling and screaming as they came. They were the corpses of those the evil had vanquished before, brought back to life by his foul magic, and they threw themselves at the army of Zenith without fear of a second death. Their charge was halted abruptly by the bubble-like wall the robed men had conjured, and they stood for a moment at bay, their horrific features, devoid of any flesh, roaring into the faces of their living enemies. As the robed men sweated and chanted, their hands shaking as they directed all their force into maintaining their first line of protection, more and more beasts joined the thrashing orgy of undead hammering against the shield. For a moment, it seemed as though the battle would be suspended in eternal stalemate, but then the mob of creatures parted, allowing the foul man who held them in un-life to walk up to the wall. He looked at it for a moment, seeming more interested than perturbed, before he looked up into Argus’ eyes once more. Then, with an evil grin, he lifted one finger, slowly moving it closer and closer. The tip of it touched the wall…
(Hah, i'm such a tease for leaving it there
what you think? :) )