“Never take your allies for granted.” ~Davion Moncer CH3

    As Davion and Slayth walked toward the healer’s tent with the warrior woman following, they began to discus the aftermath of the battle.  It was idle conversation for the most part. They might as well have been a noble and his adviser talking about affairs in court. However it wasn't long before the possible repercussions of their victory came up.

    "My Lord may I ask something of you?" Davion said.

     "Of course my friend," Slayth responded.

    "As you know my time of service is nearing an end," Davion continued.

    “I know. Are you requesting an early dismissal? You've been faithful and have proven yourself many times. I'd be willing to give it some thought though I'm not keen on loosing you at all." Slayth said with a touch of sadness in his voice.

    "Actually my lord I wanted something else. I know you have never made another like yourself but I was wondering if you'd consider making an exception for me?"  Davion said in a serious tone.

    "I'm not sure you know what you're asking. There are many reasons why I have not and will not make another like myself. Why do you want this?" Slayth responded with concern.

    "To be honest I don't want it. However I do want to help you. I've seen how you use your powers and I'd like to make the kind of difference you do." Davion said with sincerity.

    "Davion my friend, you are seen as a monster by most. People think this is forced upon you. I am different. People see me as being willfully evil choosing to be a monster." Slayth said as he gestured toward Davion’s pale complexion.

    "I know my lord. But speaking as an adviser and your friend, you need an equal. You need someone who understands who and what you are. I understand a part of     you but I am always your subject never your equal. No matter how you treat me that will never change. Also after this brazen attack you need an ally."  Davion turned to face him as they continued onward.

    Slayth paused for a moment before he answered. Davion had a point. There were a few among the nobility that accepted Slayth for who and what he was. However they would never be able to really understand him. And having an ally that he could fully trust would be a great help. There are things that could be done to him that normal humans could never fathom. Most people have the final escape of death when the pain was too great. He did not. There were no limits to the extremes of what he could be forced to endure and having a friend, that could come to his aid should he fall into enemy hands, would be invaluable. And the truth was he did long for an equal, an ally.

    "I'll have to give this a great deal of thought Davion. You're correct that I need an ally but there are many other factors. There are reasons most of my kind are insane. It is very easy to loose your humanity and your mind when life and death blend together. Also there are powers at play in the realm that would not look kindly upon me having an ally. It could cause all of the country to turn on us rather than just the fanatical few. Lastly you're a good man and I do not make monsters out of good people. You know that."  Slayth stopped and looked at the taller knight to make his point.

    "I know my lord. All I ask is that you think about it. I believe with your help I could handle the transformation and the power."  Davion nodded in respect to his lord.

    "I will. But I do want to make one thing clear. I will never allow you to become a monster. Do you understand what I mean?”  Slayth accentuated ever word of the last sentence.

    "I'd expect nothing less my Lord," Davion smiled.

    They nodded to each other and covered the last little span of open field before they reached the healers tent. For the most part it seemed like any other field care unit. Except that the healers were undead mages and the assistants were skeletons. That and it was very effective. Severed limbs were simply and expertly rejoined with no sign they were ever missing. The medical teams worked with out human error and never grew tired. They could hold perfectly still or stand in place for hours. And they never lost a patient. True the terminal ones had been killed in the field but the quality of wounded coming in strained the mind to understand what they considered beyond hope. Men would be brought in with massive holes in them. Some with skin so burnt they hardly looked human, many with missing or badly broken limbs, and still others covered in blood from serious wounds. All of them were there for only moments before they were quickly healed and laid before the stone throne waiting for the announcement.

    Of course magic was freely and widely used but it was true that necromancy was the master of the body in ways normal healing magic just couldn't match. Slayth nodded again to Davion as he and his detachment returned to the field. Slayth waited there for the lone woman's curiosity to overcome her fear. It didn't take long. Just over the small hill he could see her wide eyes stare in disbelief. He could tell she wasn't sure if she should run in there and destroy the monsters saving her fellow soldiers lives or give them a helping hand. Slayth slowly made his way to her.

    "So am I crazy?" He asked her.

    "What? What are you talking about?" Again she looked confused. She was normally very sure of herself but all of this was wrong. This was nothing like her commander told her it'd be. She was told they would be fighting merciless evil beings, bent on ending all life. And try as hard as she could. She found nothing wrong with the men coming out of that tent. Indeed most of them wouldn't have made it if this were a normal healer's tent. She wasn't yet willing to accept that these things were anything but evil. But her resolve was weakening.

    "Do you see what I see? A mercy tent ran by monsters and ran well at that?  Or am I crazy?" Slayth asked her again.

    "Only if I'm as crazy as you are and seeing the same delusion. Which I'll accept isn't likely." She responded as she lowered her spear slightly.

    "So then any idea why these monsters are doing this?" Slayth rubbed his chin as if pondering a deep question.

    "I... I really don't know. It's possible their master has some sick plan in mind for the living. But if that were the case why heal them fully? Why not keep them just barely alive? And why make them sleep when they're being healed? The only reason would be to lessen their fear and pain.  I don't believe what I'm seeing but yet I am seeing it.  I'm not sure what to think."

    "Well it seems like they are being taken over to that small hill there to recover,” Slayth said thoughtfully.

    "I can see that. But what's with the throne? I don't like this." She movedinto a defensive stance.

    "Well one could guess that some kind of speech or something like that would be taking place soon. I suppose some kind of ritual could also be taking place but again that seems unlikely given the healthy state of the living. I guess you'll just have to wait and see." Slayth shrugged his shoulders and smirked.

    "You know something more then you're telling me. Speak or I'll..." She didn't really know what she'd do but it didn't matter. Slayth didn't give her the chance to finish her threat.

    "You would demand an answer from me just so you can call me a liar again? No. I think you should rather just wait and see. You won't believe me anyway." Slayth started to turn his back to her.

    

    "I said tell me what you know!" She swung the blunted end of her spear towards his chest to stop him from leaving. 

    "And I said 'no'." Slayth responded in a low, calm but dangerous voice as he effortlessly caught the wooden shaft. As he turned to back to face her the area around Slayth grew cold and the color drained from his eyes. The grass and foliage around him started to wilt.  She tried to hide it but she was suddenly very afraid of him as she tried to pull the end of her spear away from his iron grip. A moment later the warmth returned and his eye's regained their light brown tent. The foliage however stayed dead. Slayth continued in a pleasant, friendly voice releasing her spear to her.

    "You will just have to wait and see, come to think of it. I still haven't gotten your name."  He paused as he thought about what to call her.

    "Alora." She said between dry parched lips. She tried to swallow but her mouth was far too dry. The headache had already set in and she knew she needed water.

    "Here Ms. Alora. You must be thirsty." Slayth offered a skin of water that she could have sworn wasn't there a moment ago.

    "I don't take aid from the enemy." She frowned

    "Who said I was your enemy? Besides the battle is clearly over. Your army lost. And from the looks of it rather badly."  He said as he glanced back the healer’s tent.

    Slayth again offered the water to her. Alora simply ignored it. She saw it as a stinging reminder of her failure. Even if it was the whole army that failed she took it as a personal shortcoming that she lived to see their defeat.

    "Fine die of thirst. I'm sure the master of these monsters will be happy to add you to their numbers. If you wish to join them that badly however there's plenty of swords around that could quicken the process." Slayth started to put the skin away when Alora reached out to take it from his hand.

    "You made your point alright? So if you aren't a necromancer or my enemy just why are you here?" She took a long drink. The water was wonderful, almost sweet even.

    "Actually Alora, I never said I wasn't a necromancer or that I wasn't your enemy. You were the one that decided those things. Not me.  Relax, it's just water nothing else. And just because you decided those things doesn't make them wrong.” She froze in panic as the water dripped from her lips and rushed down her throat. A smile formed on Slayth's face. 

    "Would you just give me a straight answer,” Alora threw the leather pouch back at him!

    "I did and have for every important question you've asked me," Slayth answered as he watched the flask fall at his feet. He licked his lips as that sweet water started pouring out. He longed to taste it. He had trouble remembering what it was like to taste.

    "What are you talking about? You haven't answered any of my questions with out some kind of riddle mixed into it!" She cocked her hip to one side as the woman started to become angrier then the soldier.

    "Not true. I answered your question about the water and about who I was." Slayth reached down and picked up the flax and raised it to his mouth.  He could feel the cool of the liquid as the wonderfully sweet water slipped past his lips.  He suddenly realized just how dry his mouth had been.  As the water touched his tongue he tasted nothing.  It flowed down his throat and sat in his empty and dead stomach like a weight.  He closed his eyes and tried to remember what water tasted like.  To picture how he used to catch the rain on his tongue.  But he couldn’t remember.  He couldn’t remember at all what water tasted like or if it even had a taste.  He sighed and threw the water to the grass his mouth drier then before.

    "I never asked about the water!" Alora was far to angry now to notice the leather pouch as it melted into the ground.

    "Sure you did. Or is freezing in panic normal for you? Not a good trait for a soldier if you ask me." Slayth responded with a smirk as he couldn’t help but lick the remaining water from his lips.  Alora let out a deep sigh. But offered no response other then clinched teeth. Slayth continued, "And lets be fair why should I be forth coming? Every question you've asked me has been at the point of a spear. That's not how one asks friendly questions where I'm from. Especially if all the other person has done is given you water and shown you your friends are being well cared for."

    "I'm in a field surrounded by the undead. My spear is going to be pointed at whatever is closest to me."Alora looked around the field at all the skeletons and the few pale knights commanding them.

    "I suppose that's fair. Still I'm in that same field and none of those undead have tried to harm me or you sense we met."  Slayth said as he honestly tried to calm her down.

    "I just watched those same undead slaughter my fellow soldiers by the hundreds not but a few hours ago! My spear stays as it is! Understand!" Alora glared at him as she resumed a soldier’s stance.

    "Fine. If you'll excuse me I have some business to tend to. By the way I believe there were two men, over by that stone throne, talking about an 'Alora'. Thought you should know." Slayth said with a rather annoyed tone of voice. 

    Alora looked over to see a group of solders wearing the colors of her lord. They were to far away to make out any faces or any other details but they were at least alive. She turned back to Slayth but he had vanished. Completely disappeared in the middle of an open field.

    "Well that's annoying." She rolled her eyes and started to the group of men.

    She started to lose herself in thought. She had to know who had survived and why. That's what really bothered her. Why was she alive? Why were others being cared for? And why were she and the other soldiers not in chains? Something was clearly not right here. The trouble was she was starting to loose sight of who was wrong.

    As she made her way to the stone throne she replayed Sir Tayren's speech in her mind. She remembered how just yesterday he had inspired all of them with stories of great heroes from the past. How he made them feel like they were on their own grand quest to rid the world of an evil undead monster and his hoard of abominations. During the campaign against the neighboring country of Extoria she had heard dogma like this before almost every battle. Every leader painted the enemy as monsters. It had lost its impact when she realized that the commanders just across the field were saying the same things about them. But this time she believed it. It seemed so clear and Sir Tayren was so full of passion. She could tell he believed what he was saying as well.

    She just wanted for once to fight against something truly evil. She was tired of fighting good people who were defending their homes just because some noble wanted those lands. She couldn't stand the thought that once again she was fooled into destroying something that was actually good. She looked around and saw walking skeletons and that righteous rage welled up inside her. No, she knew what they did was right. Regardless of what was happening now. All these skeletons were once people. Good people who were now slaves and mindless monsters! Stripping a person of their freewill and ripping their souls from the afterlife is evil without question! Hate began to fill as she yelled curses and shook her fist at the stone throne. She didn't realize the other soldiers were now in earshot. One of them with a rather smart mouth chimed in.

    "Alora, I'm pretty sure it doesn't have a mother. Or that you could do that to her," Said a massive tank of a man who was walking up to Alora.

    Alora turned toward to two of the soldiers approaching her. A day ago she would've called them "fellow soldiers" at best but it's funny how things change when you're the one's who survived.

    "Meric! I would've guessed that sharp tongue would have gotten you killed by now."

    They greeted each other with a rough handshake and a half hug. Alora might have been a woman but to them she was a soldier. She had earned that right with sword and spear. While she didn't carry any rank, she wore the titles "soldier" and "warrior" with honor. However she was still a woman and when not covered in steel she enjoyed wearing her long flowing dresses and letting her golden hair fall over her shoulders. She was a nightmare for men to understand. They always said they could never figure out if they were talking to the soldier or the lady. She actually rather liked being a mystery and her favorite outfit summed her up perfectly; A flowing cotton dress long enough to twirl but short enough to run in, soft but rugged leather boots, a modest corset that complimented her curves, her hair down and her sword at her hip. That was Alora, woman and soldier rolled into one.

    "Nope the tongue didn't get me. A sword did though. Bloody monster gutted me good!" Meric showed the gaping tare in his blood-covered tunic as proof.

    "Meric! Why are you up and walking? Sit down you fool!" Alora moved in to try and make him sit. Meric grabbed her shoulders and stopped her in her tracks.

    "Relax! I can't believe I'm saying this but those monsters fixed me up good. I don't even have a scar to show for it. How completely pointless right? I mean really? What's the point of getting wounded in battle if you can't show it off to the ladies? I should have a foot long scar right here!” He traced a finger across his gut. “I guess I'm going to have to never wash this tunic." Meric took it off and started to gently fold it. Well as gentle as a six foot swordsman could. He was massive and clearly the biggest of the remaining soldiers. Meric was dark from years of working outside and his black hair, brown eyes, and hairy body only added to his imposing form. Meric was a human tank but he wasn't that skilled of a fighter. Still he always seemed to find humor in any situation and was someone you wanted by your side.

    "Meric, you never wash anything." It was a smaller man who spoke. He had the same dark hair and brown eyes as Meric but that was where the similarities ended. He was only slightly taller then Alora and half the size of Meric. Still he bore the scars of hundreds of hours of training with a blade. What Meric had in strength and size, this smaller man had in skill and speed. It wasn't just his blade that he brought to a fight it was also a sharp mind and solid composure. Oddly enough he was Meric's brother.

    "That is a bold faced lie Joash! I have a wife you know!" Meric shook the bloody tunic at his face. Sighing as he realized he just completely undid his careful folding.

    "And I rest my case. So Alora how did you keep your armor and weapons? We all woke up with them missing. We figured those things had taken them from us at some point." He said as he turned to face Alora

    "That's because Alora can turn into a dragon." Meric said with a completely straight face as he refolded his tunic. Alora and Joash just looked at him. "What? She can I've seen it! Don't let her fool you! She's a witch I tell you!" Alora and Joash ignored him and continued their normal, adult conversation.

    "The truth is I never fell in battle,” replied Alora.

    "Well I guess that makes you the better fighter after all doesn't it?" Joash said with a smirk to hide the fact that his pride was a little hurt.

    "Did anyone else make it from our detachment?" she asked.

    "Sadly I don't think so. I've seen a few of the other soldiers walk over to where they are laying out the dead. While the thought has crossed my mind I don't see the point.

    It's clear that they haven't raised any of the fallen yet."

    "How do you know that?" Meric asked.

    "Well I can't be sure but the amount of dead plus those still living seem to be rather close to the size of our army when we started. Besides why only raise a few of them and leave all these dead here? No it makes more sense that who ever is leading these monsters has plans for all of us." Joash said as he gestured across the field.

    "I think Joash is right Meric. I was talking with this," Alora paused when she realized she still didn't know anything about Slayth except for his name. "I guess he was a mage. Anyway I was talking with him earlier and he said pretty much the same. I have a better question though. Why are all of you still here?"

    "Hey I'm not leaving till I get my scar!" Meric waived his tunic at his brother and Alora. Again undoing his folding job. He sighed and looked at the disgusting tunic. "I really don't think this is going to have the same effect. And I kind of doubt my Lessie will let me keep it anyway."

    "I can almost promise you she won't Meric." Alora pushed the smelly rag out of her face. She was dumbfounded as Meric just put it back on. “How... why did Lessie marry you again?”

    “What do you mean by that?” Meric shrugged and pulled the tunic down over his head. Alora just shook her head and looked back to Joash.

    “Back to your question Alora. Most of us are here for probably the same reason you are. Curiosity. We want to know what's going on and why these things aren't acting like monsters." Joash answered as they both completely ignored Meric.

    "So they're not holding you here?" Alora had that confused look on her face again.

    "No, actually a group left not long ago. No one did anything to stop them either. The only thing that happened is that pale knight over by the throne told them that once they left they would not be allowed back."

    “So then what are we waiting for? We still have a duty as soldiers of the realm to fight against these things. No matter how they're acting now they are abominations!” Alora was suddenly full of righteous anger as the word undead reached her ears.

    “Yeah Alora you tell them! Soon as I find my sword I'll be right beside ya!” Meric chimed in.

    “For once it seems like my brother brought up a good point Alora. We don't haveany weapons. And I fought one of those knights earlier. Even with sword and armor I was no match for it. It'd take most of us here just to bring him down and there's a good thousand or so of these lesser undead. We didn't stand a chance as a full army. What could we possibly do as a few unarmed men and one armed woman? It'd be completely pointless.”

    “No Joash. It would serve the very meaningful point of giving lives for something important. For something worth dying for! These things are evil plan and simple. Man is meant to die once and only once! These things are against God and all that is good!”

    “Really Alora? I'm surprised at you. I would have guessed you, above anyone else here, would know better then to judge based of off appearances.” Joash said with a smirk.

    “What's that supposed to mean?” She said in a low angry voice.

    “You know what I'm talking about. The temple during the Extoria campaign under lord Ayron? Should I go on?”

    “How do you know about that?” Alora shook her head to get the images out of her mind.

    “Sorry, I don't mean to bring up bad memories but I can't help but wonder why you're so bent on these things being evil when that same 'righteous furry' is responsible for...”

    “Shut up!” Alora screamed as she held the tip of her spear against Joash's face.

    “Now just one second lil' soldier.” Meric easily overpowered Alora as he wrenched the spear away from his brother's face. “My brother didn't mean any harm He was just trying to get you to... um. What were you trying to do Joash? If you were trying to make her mad I'm just going to give her spear back and run. I've seen her mad. She does the whole dragon thing. It's very scary.”

    “Meric enough with the dragon thing. She cannot turn into a dragon! Alora, I'm sorry I didn't know it bothered you that much. I was just trying to make a point.” Joash raised his hands in frustration now. Only Meric seemed to be able to get that reaction from him.

    “And what would that be?” Alora still had one hand on the spear and moved one of her legs just behind Meric's knee. With one fluid motion Meric found himself on his back with Alora standing over him as she tapped his forehead with her spear.

    “Ow! Well that was almost as embarrassing as when that lil' girl knocked me outin the pub.” Meric mumbled.

    “You let a little girl knock you out Meric?” Alora looked at him with a great deal of curiosity.

    “I didn't let her! She got the drop on me!” Meric answered defensively.

    “That's actually... You know what never mind. So Joash what point were you trying to make again?” Alora shook her head as she helped Meric up. She couldn't help but smile as he dusted himself off.

    “I was just trying to help you see that things might not be as black and white as we think. Don't misunderstand me. I still agree with you that this is wrong and shouldn't be allowed to happen as a whole. But its clear things aren't what we were expecting. I would rather this be simple. But war rarely is. I've seen signs that we might be wrong about who we're fighting. I want to be sure that who I'm fighting is actually the enemy.” Joash answered with sympathy in his voice.

    “How can you even say that Joash? Where were you just a few hours ago when they were slaughtering us?” Alora was clearly angry and she couldn't understand how Joash could be so clam and disconnected.

    “Alora let me put it to you this way. How many battles have you been in?”

    “Enough. Why?”

    “In everyone I've been in I've seen blood lust. I've seen men act like animals.  
They don't just kill because they have to. They kill because they want to. They use war to slake their desire for blood. I didn't see that this time. None of these monsters enjoyed this battle. They were just doing what they were told.”

    “Yes that's because they're lifeless an emotionless empty shells. They'd also slaughter children just as readily.”

    “I'll give you that. But the monsters in our own ranks would enjoy it. Which one is worse?”

    “The actions of one monster don’t justify the others.” Alora glared at Joash.

    “Yes but we don't destroy the 'monsters' in our ranks. We give them swords and tell them 'well done' as long as they don't carry the blood lust back home. I guess my point is we can all be monsters. Sometimes it's even needed. Who's to say these things are all that different?”

    “Um... Joash. They're not human. I think that makes them pretty 'different'.”

    Meric chimed in. Alora just smirked. Meric might not have been as smart as Joash but sometimes his simple logic would trump Joash's wisdom.

    “You're missing the point Meric. Of course they're different but that doesn't mean they're monsters.” Joash was starting to pace. His hands saying almost as much has his mouth. While he was calm and reserved most of the time, he would get pretty animated when he felt like people didn’t understand him.

    “Joash it's not like they have pink hair or something. They don't have skin. They're dead. Or should be.” Meric shrugged.

    “Meric you should be too. And if it weren’t for those 'monsters' you would be. Does that mean we should return you to how you 'should' be?”

    “Ha I'd like to see you try!” Meric towered over Joash.

    “You mean like Alora just proved? Or the little girl from the pub?”

    “That was different! Alora is....” He paused looking at Alora.

    “I'm what?” She looked back at him and crossed her arms. Meric licked his lips and tried to figure out the best way to say this with out getting hit.

    “Well she's Alora,” Meric smiled kind of proud of his whit. Alora just sighed but was at least satisfied she wasn't a 'dragon' any more.

    “And let me guess the little girl was actually an ogre?” Joash smirked.

    “Don't be silly. She was a fairy or something like that. Maybe a vampire! Her teeth were kind of longish.” Meric put his index fingers up to his mouth like long fangs.

    “Meric fairies aren't real. And vampires are very rare. Besides I doubt....” Joash shook his head and threw his hands up. “Why am I talking with you about this? My point, Alora, is that if these things were human rather then undead we'd be praising them for their kindness and honor.”

    “But they're not. If a snake crawled into my tent I'd kill it. If a body crawls out of the ground and offers to treat my wounds I would send it back. Some things can not overcome what they are.”

    Joash was about to offer another rebuttal but a large group of skeletons were approaching them. Lead by the death knight Davion. In loud booming voice enhanced by magic Davion commanded everyone's attention.

    “All living and dead hear my words. Show respect to your better and be silent. My Lord approaches. You will be still by choice or force.”

    Alora readied her spear. She handed Joash her sword but he just looked at it and shook his head. She glared at him and muttered something under her breath before handing it to Meric instead. Meric gladly accepted it.

    “Finally time for that scar!” Meric smiled.

    “Enough with the jokes. Just watch my back and I'll watch yours.” Alora sighed and braced herself as the group drew closer.

    “You're a fool Alora. Both of you are! You don't stand a chance!” Joash tried one last time to get them to see reason.

    “If you aren't going to help us then stay out of the way Joash!”

    The group of undead were now nearly upon them. Joash rolled his eyes and grunted. Then reach up under his tunic and pulled out a short sword. Alora smirked and gave him a questioning look.

    “Well I can't just watch you die. Still I would've liked to know what was going on.”

    The three of them readied themselves standing with their backs to each other. Each of them willing to die for their fellow soldier. A section of skeletons broke away from the main group and surrounded the three friends. There were at least fifteen undead now around them with a hundred more waiting just a few yards away. The trio waited just like Alora had before. Meric couldn't help but put a hand where his wound used to be. Joash tried to size up the group to see who might strike first but all his training was useless here. None of them moved or shifted their weight at all. He couldn't see where his death would come from. That actually bothered him more then idea of death. Each of them stood true in spite of their fears.

    “You need to lower your weapons. It will make this easier for you.” Davion's voice came from behind the wall of skeletons. The group parted to let him walk up to the three soldiers. Alora pointed her spear at Davion to keep him at a distance.

    “I'll lower this spear when there's no.” Davion didn't give her a chance to finish. With a swipe of his sword her spear was split in two. Alora dropped to the ground pulling a dagger from her boot. Meric stepped between the knight and the kneeling Alora bringing his sword around with a powerful swing. Perfectly timed with Meric's attack Joash thrust his short sword at Davion's other side. Davion easily parried Joash's attack while stepping under Meric's sword. Davion stood up lifting Meric with his shoulder then throwing him to the ground. Davion and Joash squared off. Thesound of metal rang through the field but the fight was quick. Joash was good but Davion had almost eighty years of experience without the limits of old age. With Joash's first mistake the fight was over. Davion slipped Joash's sword from his grip and buried it deeply in the ground far out of reach. Meric was back on his feet and charged Davion with a primal yell. Davion turned in time to duck under his charge and flipped him over his shoulder sending his sword flying. Meric quickly found himself on his back with the wind knocked out of him and his sword missing. Alora waited for Davion's back to be turned before she shoved the dagger deep into his side. He stumbled forward from the force of the blow. Slumping slightly before standing upright. He turned and looked at Alora before he sighed and easily pulled the blade from his side. He tossed it well out of reach and pointed his ancient sword at the three of them. They each waited for him to finish them. They were very confused when he slowly lowered it.

    “Now that we're done. My men well escort you to your proper place. Do not give them trouble. They aren't as skilled as I am. Understand?” Alora started to argue but Davion's sword was quickly at her throat.

    “I do not have the patience that my lord does. Nor do I care for troublemakers. Now go!” Davion lowered his sword and nodded to his soldiers. In a few minutes the trio found themselves standing before the stone throne. Behind them were almost a hundred of their fellow survivors. Just across from them were almost a thousand of those who didn't make it. Between the two groups was a path lined by the undead. The path led right up to the stone throne. Alora looked down the path and saw a familiar cloaked figure. The anger started to rise inside her as he walked down the path. As he drew close she wished like nothing else she still had her sword. She eyed the blade of a near by skeleton. Slayth walked up to them and shook his head at Alora.

    “At least hear me out before you do what you're thinking.” Slayth told her in a low voice.

    “Why?” She glared at him

    “Because you could have been dead twice now. Don't you want to know why you're still alive? Besides a sword won't do anything to me.” Slayth smiled.

    Alora gritted her teeth but he had a point. Besides curiosity was getting the better of her once again. Slayth mounted the steps up to his throne before turning to face the two groups. He paused looking at his staff. Rolling it back and forth in his hands. He held the carved knob up to his face and let out a low sigh placing both of his hands on top of the cane before resting his chin on them. He looked out to the crowd and addressed them.

    “I know all of you are wondering what's going on. First let me explain clearly who I am and what this is all about. Yes these undead are mine. Before you all startplanning the best ways to skin me I should let you know none of them here have been forced. Each of them was given a choice. Some joined me willingly. Some decided their fate well before they met me. However none of them have been forced. And the same goes for all of you both living and dead. I know many of you are wondering why we did our best to keep many of you alive. The simple answer is that I just didn't want anyone else to die. I believe a life should continue as long as it's possible to do so. Thus why those of you who are alive will leave here today alive if you choose to. As for me, I am not what you think. I am not a necromancer. I'm something...” He paused for a moment to find the right word. “...different. I would ask that all of you keep an open mind for a moment as what I'm about to show you can be unsettling.”

    Slayth raised his staff and then slammed it down against his throne. Just as before a dark green cloud seeped up from the ground enveloping him. Greedily crushing the life out of him. Many of the survivors started to panic a few even tried to run. At first the undead moved to stop them. When Slayth just shook his head signaling to let them pass.

    “Thank you to those that stayed. I want you to understand what is going to happen next. I will be raising all of the fallen here but only to find out if they have chosen to join me. Their choice is a little different then yours. You all simply choose to join me or not, to help me. Their choice was made before they ever stepped foot on this field. You see I do not turn good people into monsters. All the skeletons you see here were monsters in life murders, thieves, violent men, and others of that nature. You see the one's here had already thrown the gift of their lives away and had done more to hurt their fellow man then help. I also want you to understand that their soul's are not here. I pulled their souls from their bodies allowing them to face their final judgment.
I don't think it is the place of man to judge another soul no matter their power. I can however use their bones to help do what they would not to do what is right. Does that make me a monster? Maybe. I have no choice in what I am. But I can choose who I am.”

    He looked right at Alora as he said this. He turned his focus to the field of undead. Raising his staff like he had done not but a few hours ago. Each one of them slowly started to stand. Slayth was clearly using a great deal of control and power for what he was doing. It was a little more then just raising the dead. He was listening to their desires and the deep thoughts of each of them. He was looking for those that had done horrible things and enjoyed it. That was the telling sign. All of them had made bad choices at one point in their lives. But only monsters lived in those memories, enjoying, maybe even relishing them. A few at a time he would find their most horrific memory and see what emotion was tied to it. Once he decided someone was not a monster he'd let them go to face their final judgment. The monsters would be stripped of their flesh and their soul ripped from their bodies thrown to whatever judgment awaited them.

    Slayth personally knew how painful that was. But he reasoned the guilt away.

    After all he knew the things they had done and the pain they had caused. He couldn't help but notice how many good people had died today. He always had mixed emotions about that. It was good that these people had been decent to their fellow man but it also meant he had a lot of blood on his hands. One thing he always found odd was why didn't the survivors run at this point? The only thing he could reason was that it was just so different that they couldn't help but watch. Alora however was not enthralled with this show of power. All she felt was rage. She once again eyed the sword of the monster closest to her. Waiting for the right moment to end this. To destroy Slayth and end his perversion of what was right!

    She took a step forward shifting her weight. Joash glanced her way and shook his head. He said nothing but the look on his face was clearly one of worry. He knew any move by her or anyone here would be foolish and might even be the death of all of them. Again she didn't listen. She had only one thing on her mind now. Ending this unholy ritual. Filled with anger her body responded with unbelievable speed. In one fluid motion she kicked the legs out from underneath the skeleton then crushed its hand as her boot wrenching the sword from it grip. She then charged the stone throne silent as death except for her heart beating in her chest.

    The guards moved to stop her but she rushed by them dodging their blades or blocking with hers. Slayth was only a few steps from her now. Her blade within striking distance. The only thing that stood in her way was Davion, who had easily bested her only a few moments ago. She knew better then to fight him. She also knew she had only one chance and one advantage. She was faster then him. She ducked under his swing. The blade so close to her skin it sliced off a few strands of her hair. She had to follow through, as she wouldn't get another chance. She lunged forward and shoved her blade deeply into Slayth's torso. Blood leaked from the wound and a sicking sound of bones cracking could be heard as the blade split his ribs and cracked his spine.

    In that moment time seemed to slow as he turned his gaze on her. His cold black eyes looking into hers. She swallowed hard as she looked into the face of death's best friend and most capable ally. She heard Davion behind her and she knew his sword was about to find her neck. She stood there looking into the face of this monster. She knew deep down this attack was pointless. But she wanted more then anything to just make the others see what he really was, to make him stop these lies and show his true nature. She waited for death knowing she'd be raised and forced to serve this abomination. She closed her eyes as she felt the wind from Davion's sword. Her last sight as a free soul would be of those lifeless eyes.

    She stood there waiting for death. But it never came. Alora opened her eyes to see Slayth's hand blocking Davion's sword. Stopping it just short of her neck. She looked back and forth from Slayth to the blade at her neck. She looked down at her own hands still on the hilt of the sword which was buried deep in the chest of the one that just saved her life. Slayth put his free hand to the sword and pulled it from his chest.

    “My Lord you can not be serious! She just tried to destroy you! She shouldn't be allowed to go unpunished!” Davion was almost yelling.

    “Thank you for your fervor Davion. But put your sword away. I said that everyone here would be leaving alive if they wanted to. Clearly Ms. Alora has made her choice and she is free to leave.” Slayth placed his hand on the wound and that same sickening green fog filled the wound closing it up.

    “Yes my Lord.” Davion pulled his sword back almost shaking with rage. He respected Slayth greatly but some times Slayth seemed to be too merciful. 

    Alora was completely confused now. She had done this to show everyone he was a monster. He was a monster wasn't he? He had to be. She looked into those black eyes and while his face was empty and lifeless those eyes were calming almost caring even. So many questions were racing through her head now. What was he? Did she just hurt a good person for no reason? How could someone so merciful be something so twisted?  She didn't even know where to start. She only half heard the command for her to be escorted away and for her weapons to be returned to her upon leaving the field. It was as the boney fingers wrapped around her arms that she came to her senses.

    “Wait! Wait!”

    The skeletons didn't heed her requests. They had been given a command and would carry it out. She turned and looked back at Slayth and the stone throne. She was still close enough to be heard. She had so many questions now and he was the only one that could answer them. One question stood out above all the rest however and that was the one she yelled back as she was being dragged away, one single word.

    “Why!” She screamed.

    Slayth raised his hand and the skeletons stopped and let her go. Alora started to run back to the throne.

    “Why am I still alive? Why are you doing all of this? Just who are you?”

    “I am Sir Slayth Nyre, The Wolf Lord I am the rightful ruler and protector of the fief and city of Hillsborrow and all it's people. I am also the Undead Lord of the Northern waists. As for your other questions, stay and see.” He responded with a smile.

Author's Note

Please ignore grammar/spelling thanks.