Blood Heroes IC

The OOC is located here if you would like to join: Blood Heroes, OOC


He looked up to the sky, and for a moment the world faded. The crashing and screaming of the Abandoned against the walls of the grande city of Nor disappeared away for the moment. He gazed up as the clouds that rolled over in their pale blue sea, and a single bird flew freely amongst the world. It was then the tear appeared in the corner of his eye, and trickled down his tanned and worn skin over his appearing wrinkles, to reach his jaw. He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes, his head still tilted up to the world above him. Silence and peace overtook his ever wandering mind, and for those few seconds, he knew forgiveness and love.

Slowly he brought his head back down to face the reality one more time, and with another breath he opened his eyes and looked upon his men while they stood atop the kingdom’s walls. A constant twang of bows and crossbows were heard while the massive number of archers stood by, raining arrows and easily dismantling undead. It would have been easier had they not continued to come in waves of incomparable size. Where were they coming from? They needed a platoon of warriors to give ease to the archers who hadn’t had a break for a day and a half now, calluses on their fingers and blood dripping down their arrows, and unfortunately it has been the Commanders small army that had been chosen.

The city itself hung with wails and cries from women and children, a faint smoke clinging in the air. The outside of the city bore no more green plants or trees, all burned to ash and overcovered with undead corpes and the stench of rot itself. The glimmering city of Nor was overcast in grey.


They were scared, but so was he. To deny this would have been a dishonor, and they could not hide the thing griping at their soul, but they had no choice. “Will you fight?!” He suddenly said, his voice becoming loud with command. His men grew silent under his strong gaze. This brought him to ask again. “Will you fight, I said?!” He shouted loudly this time.

A few of his men went to speak, but one answer over spoke the rest. “We will die…”

His eyes darted to the one who had spoken. “Shame on you!” He barked back angrily. “This will be the battle of our lives! The chance when we can forever be remembered in history for what we do here today, right here, right now. And you would have us remembered as a group of gutless cowards! We have come too far for this!” The commander grabbed one of the men’s shoulders firmly, looking into the rest of their eyes.

“I’ll stay right here and fight for this lost cause! How long have we fought side by side. Have I ever given you reason to not believe?! If you cannot believe in yourselves, for the god’s sakes, believe in me.”

The soldiers began to agree, adrenalin starting to eat away at the gnawing fear. “We are Lions! We are strong!” They started to rise a bit of clamor with cheering. “Will you fight?!” He asked again, a devilish smile appearing on his face. “Will you fight?! Will you tear out their guts, inch by inch, and show these monsters what it is, we can do?!”

“Whoop!” The men started to cheer, while banging their swords against shields or spears on the ground.

“Will you slaughter them?!” The commander asked, raising his hands into the air with half a laugh.

“Whoop whoop!!”

“Will you win?!” He finally called out, and as they cheered, he raised his arm upward. Hooking ropes onto the massively thick walls edge, the huge troop of men began to propel down the stone, elves managing crossfire to fend off the undead so they could get down safely. Once reaching the ground, swords began to crash and creatures and men alike began to fall. For now, it seemed the humans were winning.

And the archers fell to their knees, finally in relief for the moment. It had been so hot and hard to breathe with the smoke rising up from the fires and grass that had burned to ash. A few still stood trying to help, but it was obvious by the looks on their faces they needed relief.


Groug leaned on his axe which was buried deep into the ground, and took a long and thick sip of ale. He sat barely 5 feet from the gate, directly in front of it waiting for it to be smashed down. “Yup…just wait for them to come through that gate and BRAGH!” He suddenly shouted, spilling some of his ale from his cup with his hand movement. “Then I go in and show these humans how a dwarf does it!” He commented loudly, slurping the rest of his drink.

Really, Groug had been told he was no longer allowed to watch the battle from his place on the wall next to the archers, mostly because of his screaming and cursing and especially his whooping…that and the two times they had to drag him back up when he halfway fell down the wall from jumping around screaming. Eventually they sent him on his way, and to make up for it he planted himself in front of the City of Nor's main gate, and crinkled his nose as he listened to the rock hard wood creak.

The battle was fierce and bloody, the screams from men being wounded mixed with the cries of mothers and wives to make an awful noise that could not be escaped from. Avis wanted to go with the small army to fight, but he was not a part of it and they would not let him. For what reason, Avis did not know. To him, it looked like they could use all the help they could get. So instead he walked the walls of the city and did whatever he could to help. At one point he took a bow from an archer he was bleeding so badly from his hands that he was about to pass out. He then stood there and fired off as many arrows as he could, but no being a trained archer meant that he did not have built calluses on his hands and after only a few hours his hands were blistered and bleeding as well. Avis had no choice but to set the bow down. He was fighter, and what good would he do if he could not use his hands during the fight? On his way down from the wall, Avis spotted a few guards “escorting” a dwarf down from the wall; apparently he was causing too much distraction and was breaking the concentration of the archers.

After bandaging his hands up with some cloth, Avis holstered his sword to his waist and took up his shield and spear. If he could not go and fight now, he would wait by the gate for the fight to come to him and would kill as many of those horrible things as he could. Not a single one would get by him.

When he got close to the gate he saw the dwarf from early standing right by it, waiting as well. Avis reached the gate and said, “Waiting to fight as well?” He did not look at the dwarf, but knew he would know who Avis was talking to. He rested against the wall right by the gate and listened to the sounds of the battle, letting out a sigh and hating anticipation.

The Temple was a writhing mass of fear. The woeful cries of women and children intermingled with those of the injured and dying. Pews were filled with people of every clan, some survivors seeking repentance for past misdeeds, others were here pleading with the Gods for their lives or that of a loved one. Outside the battle could be heard. It was no longer a feral rage as it had been in the beginning, it was now a dull throb that echoed through each man like an ominous count down. Young priests walked up and down the aisles passing out water and bread. The older and more experienced priest prayed with the dying, or directed traffic. All the holy men had one thing in common, their faces were masks of despair.

Gideon knelt in front of the altar, his eyes closed and his lips moving wordlessly. As a distant bell tolled, signaling the change of the archers, Gideon stood and dipped his fingers in holy water before touching each of his eyes in turn. The enormous crowd parted as the Knight made his way to the double doors that would lead outside. Walking passed abandoned homes and looted shops, Gideon headed for the gate. All available Knights and soldiers would be heading there soon. When Sir Gideon Witchbane reached the gate there were two other men standing there already. He nodded at both somberly before unsheathing his sword and standing ready.

The last beam of light for the day shone dully on Gideon's battered armor. He looked up at the setting sun and remarked,"The bow men won't be much help soon."

"It seems that the general populace has taken refuge in the temple." came a voice, his hood down as he lay his back against the walls of an empty house. It's residents had fled as well, quick to find some sense of peace within themselves - which meant that they already considered themselves dead. How could they not, after all? Legions of the resurrected now flung themselves against the walls of the last place of refuge, unrelenting and endless as bowman and soldier grew weary, unable to match the armies of the Abandoned.

"Well, the 'general populace' is also weeping their bloody heads off." answered a similar voice, a girl whose hair was laced with black. She had found a pair of crates stacked against the wall opposite, allowing her to reach the roof of the establishment. It was from there that she intended to survey the situation, and although there was little to see, she stayed in place. Evidently she liked the high position.

"Ha ha... True enough. Then I take it that you won't be going as well, Rin?" asked the boy below, walking to the lower crate and lifting himself atop it. His sister was close to the ledge, long forsaking attempts to get a good view - although perhaps that was for the best. Not being able to see the walking - or rather, rampaging dead, meant that they had yet to break through the city walls, and that meant they they were safe.

Well, at least for the moment. The two were rather close to the city's perimeter, although far enough to escape the attention of the guards. Then again, the guards were far too occupied with the attacking force to bother with escorting the twins, and so they were left only with an occasional "It isn't safe here!" or "Go back!". Not bad advice, really - except that it implied that they were going to lose, and that in turn implied that the city was soon to be finished.

The girl who stood atop the building nodded in response, turning her head to glance at Len. He didn't like to show it, but it was clear in his small mannerisms - the licking of his lips and the crossing of his arms - that he was nervous. He would never submit to admitting it, but he was well aware that Rin knew. They knew each other long enough - For one to know the other, and for the other to know as well. The thought never left either of their lips, remaining a silent conversation between them. Rin would not leave because of interest, and Len would not leave until he got Rin to go as well.

"...I see." sighed Len in defeat, unable to surpass Rin's stubborn disposition. They would have to stay, listening to the cries of war around them. The humans, at a glance, seemed to be winning... After all, a vast number of undead had been knocked down by the archers. However, a count is very different from a percentage, and if you looked at that, the humans might as well have killed none at all.

Tybar looked over the battlements, watching the undead forces and the forces of Nor battle below. They were locked in a stalemate for now, but that would soon come to pass as the innumerable undead continued to flow into the fight while their forces were thinning. They had hardened warriors with discipline and training, but the undead had the numbers card. And they would keep that card in play for the entire battle. Tybar's facial features hardened as he calculated the odds of their survival. They weren't good. He sighed, knowing what had to be done. Donning his helm, he walked quickly to the armory. He took up his warhammer and a sword and shield. Exiting the armory, he headed towards where the undead would most likely push though first.

"I want thirty swords at the gate as soon as they can get there. I'm headed there myself."

Tybar exited the main garrison and headed towards the gate. He saw two figures sitting there, one really short, most likely a dwarf, and two men. He strode up to them, armor gleaming in the sunlight.

"What are you three doing here? Civilians are supposed to be in the keep, where they are safe. I suggest you follow suit."

The king sat his forehead buried in his hand, quiet in his throne room as the plea of councilors and arguing of commanders who didn't know there place went on and on.


“The wryms will kill us all!” A man said loudly in panic.

A commander scoffed heartily in reply, “The griffons are holding them off fine!”

“They undead keep swarming! They cannot die!” A woman wailed.

“Then we will not rest until they do!” One man said in clear defiance, slamming his fist on the table.


Each one would not let up their arguing and bickering, and while the king stared with middle-aged eyes at the floor, it was only when a burly human busted through the doors, did he look up.

“Mi lord! They ave’ a siege weapon to break down the gates! Our griffons can’t hold back the wryms any longer!” A long sigh escaped the king's mouth, and his eyes fell back to the floor. His hand roughly scratched the stubble on his chin. At last, he stood. He feared that he would be summoning them for the wrong reason, but he had no choice now. When the bickering began again, he held his hands up for silence, and the hushing continued until it fell like a weight upon the room.

“We have no choice now. We need to survive. We are the last fighting force! We are the last thriving city! We must act now!” Silence and tension grew in the room, and he rubbed his temples wearily. "I have feared doing this, but perhaps, perhaps they can help us. You must all recall the ten days and nights of holiday every 12 moons we celebrate. Well I will call them. I will call the heroes of old and pray to my god that we survive this..."

Strange looks followed by whispering came, and everyone in the room followed the king from his throne room.



Wailing and death calls were sung throughout the city. A woman ran to the gate, to scream at the remaining forces that waited there, “The king is summoning them! The king is summoning them! He calls upon the legends of old to save us! Blood heroes! We are doomed!” As she spun around to take off in a hurry Groug looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, then turned his attention back to the gate, his large nose maybe a few inches from actually touching it. He stared intently on the wood, eager.

“Crazy old bat…” He remarked, his tongue rolling in emphasis. “Aint no such thing as blood heroes! Myth and legend aye tell ya!" Groug turned around to look at the two humans that had approached him. "I heard tale of a siege weapon eh!" He cooed happily to the older one. And when some boy came around spouting out something about being citizens, he scoffed loudly, turning around. "Back to yer' business boy! We fightin' types..."

She took off, and as the word travelled it could be heard coming everywhere inside the city: some nonbelievers, some doomsayers, others praying for mercy form the gods.



The king was surrounded by guards and a few men, bearing torches as their only light in this forsaken area. He had traveled deep within the underneath of the castle, and these parts no one save him had seen before. Dusty stone floors and walls covered in cob webs led the way for a long twisting passage. And at last, he came to it: a stone door, with a strange lock key in the middle. Other than that, there was no other oddity on the smooth strong slab.

The king rand his fingers over it, and a few people could faintly be heard whispering. One spoke up.

“Mi lord, what is this place?”

He turned over his shoulder, looking him in the eyes, his eyes then falling down again in order to turn and look back at the door once more. “It is…an altar.” He replied simply, and from around his neck revealed a long chain, attached to the end a strange looking piece of metal. Carefully he inserted this item into the door, and turned it, and a loud ‘thunk’ was heard from the locks turning inside the door. Once it stopped, he pushed it open slowly, to reveal a black nothingness seemingly ahead. Everyone peered over the king’s shoulder eagerly. Taking a breath in, the stale air and dust invaded his nostrils, though he ignored this and took a step into the room. They followed him, the torches suddenly bringing light to the cobwebs and dirt, and in the room itself was purely stone.


A large circular platform was the center of attention in this large chamber, tall stone pillars creating a half circle around it. Three steps led to the platform, the half of it where the pillars did not stand. They spread out, not approaching the shrine, but the king himself climbed the steps. In the middle of this platform were three large book sized tablets, dirt and dust covering up the language written on it. The Lord got down on his knees, and his old fingers dusted off the coverings. He blew air over them, revealing an unknown language inscribed over it. It was time.

He spoke some unknown tongue, chanting in a way, while taking a blade to his finger tips and palm. People gasped a little while the king brought harm upon himself, but he needed his own fresh blood so he ignored them. When the deep crimson red surfaced, he pressed his hand down on the first tablet. The blood followed the shallow cannals and carvings forming a symbol in the soft stone, a bloody hand print remaining as he pulled his palm away. Again, he did this with the other two tablets, and when their surfaces were filled with blood, he finished chanting, withdrawing his hand as he stood and backed away a little.

At first, nothing happened, making the Lord a bit worried, and silence was thick as the people eagerly watched. It was then that the small blue sparks flew up from the stone, floating in the air above each tablet. In a beautiful show of light, they slowly began to spin around their respective tablet, more sparks joining in until it was a thick blue light. Their spinning had gotten faster, reaching humanoid heights, and they began to shape in the form of people. Rough at first, but it got more specific with a bit of time, and then without warning they burst outward dispersing, leaving three people standing on the altar.


“We…are free…”

Nienna slowly opened her green eyes, having spoken the words after taking a deep sudden breath in, then lhad et it slowly out. Her eyes fell upon the people of the room, then on the king who watched them intently. Her head shifted to look at the other two standing next to her, but then as her thoughts started to set in, her head jerked back to the king once again.

“Why have we been summoned?” The Tribal Elf questioned, but the King was at a loss for words.

Gideon looked askance at Tybar. He'd seen the man a few times in passing or at war council. The Elite Guard stood poised in the fading sunlight. The sound of men passing water buckets could be heard not too far away, some looters had set fire to a cooperage. Standing slightly more erect Gideon turned to the guard.

"I am Sir Gideon Witchbane, Knight of the Holy Order of the Hammer of Dawn." he replied. His battered and stained armor looked at odds with the Elite Guard, but he would never notice. "You are Tybar Hae, of the Elite Guard?"

The Witchbane looked at the other men standing with him. They carried weapons and they held them with confidence. "I suppose you could say, Guard Hae, that these two are with me. Every man in times of war."

He had watched the meeting, he had watched the exodus from the throne room. And now, he was curious. As the King left the room, Damien stepped from out of the shadows and followed the procession, slowly, quietly. They went through the castle, traversing passageways which hadn't been walked in centuries. Softly padding behind the column of people, Damien stopped every now and again to avoid being seen. But he'd always catch back up, and continue following the group.

He'd traveled the entire castle before, the regular part anyway. But he'd never been in the catacombs. It was always a rare treat to explore somewhere new, and Damien loved exploring. He looked at the walls, the ancient stonework, the old murals covering the walls. He was facinated. Each and every step was another step through time, another step through another dimension. He might be an Assassin, but that doesn't mean he didn't enjoy the arts and history.

Finally, the procession entered a large room, and Damien found himself looking at a large stone dias. He watched as the King started chanting something. He could tell it was an ancient language, but he couldn't quite recognize it. He continued to watch, and almost jumped when a light burst from the dias. Three figures then stood there, talking to the King. Damien stepped forward, then back. He had to get a better vantage point.

Avis glanced at the new comer and simply ignore his comment. He had no time to be phased by some elite guards words. They always thought themselves better than any other soldier, though Avis had a feeling he could take him in a fight, he would not openly say that. Instead he turned his attention to the dwarf.

"You don't believe in the Blood Heroes? I grew up with stories of them. Don't know if there true or not, but we could sure use the help." Avis gripped his spear tightly and listened some more to the sounds of battle, they were getting closer. His thoughts were on the tales of the Blood Heroes that were told to him so many times when he was young, he truly hoped that they were real, and that they would get here in time to save them. From his point of view the fight did not look well for them.

"They're almost to the gate. I hope you all know how to fight properly." He said loudly then stepped away from the wall so that he could face the gate. His spear would be the first thing that these damned Abandoned would fall on, Avis was resolute on that.



Arandil stood by the other two. He stared at the king with cold hard eyes, waiting for a response. "She asked a question, I suggest answering it." His voice was low and rough, it would take him some time to get use to speaking again. He wondered how long the three of them were left in their eternal slumber. He also hoped that they were summoned for a good reason, for this man's sake. It would be bad to have three angry Blood Heroes in front of you.

((Keikeiya said that I could orchestrate the breaking of the gate, just letting you all know.))

Tybar eyed the dwarf with contempt. His voice was a low growl.

"You'd best be on your way midget. You might get yourself trampled in the fight."

He turned back to the two, eying the gate's condition out of the corner of his eye. Another assault on the gate made it creak and bend inward slightly, more than before. Dust fell from where it was trapped in between the boards of the gate. His eyes narrowed, but he turned back towards the gate and addressed the other people gathered in the courtyard.

"Zephiris, good to see you. I take it you're doing well? And yes, Sir Gideon, I am indeed Tybar Hae. And as for these men, I guess you're right. We need all the hel-"

The gate suddenly bent violently inwards. The wood screeched as the strain of whatever was battering it. Two more hits resonated throughout the courtyard, and then silence.

"Back away from the gate!" , he cried.

Then, suddenly, the gate was hit with one more tremendous blow, and the gate fell inwards with a loud crash and the sound of splintering wood. A large cloud of dust billowed up from where the gate fell, obscuring the gateway entrance from the small group gathered there. Then, scattered undead warriors (around 5-7) began to rush from the dust, swords held high. Then a wave of undead monstrosities flowed through the gate and rushed towards the small group there.

"Now it's time to see what we can do I guess.", he said solemnly.

Hefting his warhammer, he charged towards the undead forces swarming into the city.

Splinters flew in all directions, one even catching the Witchbane above his shield on the arm. The half dozen undead warriors flew passed the opening in different directions, their faces a rictus of horror. Unearthly screams erupted from the rotting throats.

As Avis spear caught one of the undead warriors in the torso, Gideon's sword sang through the monster's neck. Holding his rounded shield in place he backed into a tight doorway, positioning himself for a long battle. Gideon noted that he would be able to fit another body in the door way without causing difficulty.

HACK!

An undead hand fell to the ground twitching.

SLASH!

Gideon heard a hollow roar as pale, dirty hands scraped against his shield, some of the claws powerful enough to mar the reinforced steel.

THRUST!

Giving his shield a shove, Gideon sent a good number of the abominations flying backwards. "... and the Might of Justice fell upon thee, the punishment for your sins has just begun!"

The sound of tremendous crashing thundered from the city gates, over casting sounds of screeching beasts and roaring monsters as living and dead clashed still. Both the sound and the sight of the destruction reached the senses of the twins, who tensed and directed their attentions to the crack of wood. Each caught the sight of broken planks meting towards the ground, no longer a part of the formidable structure that protected the city, along with tiny motes of stray earth that rose into the air.

Through the clouds of dust which obscured their vision - and surely that of the few placed at the gate - the two could already see the first of an endless swarm, skeletal beings armed with sabers of iron and lusts of blood. They were few, but there was no doubt that beyond the screen of powder waited thousands, all of which could be replaced at a moment's notice.

"Rin, it isn't safe here." said Len sharply, leaping off the crates swiftly. "We must flee, take refu-" Len continued, biting his tongue at the notion of escape. There was no escape, not in the city, and certainly not outside it. Whether they stayed here or made their way to the chapel, they would soon make their ways to the grave.

"...Damn." spat Len, realizing the flaw in such a plan. Rin too, seemed aware of it, looking back to the gate only a few houses away. It was guarded very weakly, considering how a small army had been deployed at another entry point.

"About five people on guard." noted Rin, standing back atop the roof to get a good view, confirming the number of protectors at five. Sure, they could take down a few constructs of bone, but when the number of enemies began to swarm at the gate, even they would fall. "They won't last the onslaught." she concluded, wondering about what had caused the great gate to fall... She had no belief within her that such a creation couldn't take down a few soldiers, especially if it could take down a great barrier like the gates.

"They're the only ones separating the hell spawn from their massacre." commented Len, undoing a knot in his bag and removing a length of chain from it's confines. Iron weights clanked together as he lifted the weapon, catching a single sphere in each palm for good measure. "So we must make them last."

"Don't try to be the hero, Le- Hey!" called out his sister, watching him sprint to the scene with his chain spinning it's iron weight like a moon around it's planet. Sure, he wouldn't leave his sister, but if he was running to fight, how could she? So, grumbling incoherently, Rin leaped from the roof and darted after him, whispering to herself shortly as the roses in her palms shivered fiercely. Immediately after, her pace hastened, permitting her to soon reach Len after a full second of catch up. They reached the end of the row of houses quickly, coming just in time as a holy knight propelled a group of risen constructs back with a thrust of his shield.

"Knight!" bellowed Len as he approached, halting about a meter away from the group. It was a fairly well built one, formed of many fighters with a healthy variety of weapons. The foremost of the group wielded a spear, and had apparently impaled the first skeleton to appear. He was assisted by the one wielding the sword - the same person Len had addressed, who went in with a splendidly armored man wielding a war hammer.

His look over brief, he noticed also a dwarf wielding an axe, along with a girl his age that carried a great sword. Rin stood her ground slightly behind them, although she didn't call for their attentions.

"Knight!" repeated Len, making sure to keep momentum in his chain. "Fall back from the gate - we can make use of our numbers here and of the size of the entrance." he pointed out. It was a safe plan - only so many could swarm through at once, and with that as a limit, the warriors protecting the city would be able to pick them off effortlessly before they became unmanageable. If they so chose to stay in the gate, they limited their own manpower to a flimsy two, and if they chose to exit... Well, then they'd be covered in bones, a couple of them being those of their comrades.

Celeste had been perched high atop a roof, a moderate distance away from the gate. Her lavender eyes had the vision of a hawk, and she could easily witness anything that was about to unfold. Wings folded to her back and halberd firmly planted into the roof of the house, Celeste yearned for a chance to take the lives of evil once more. Memories painted a myriad of pictures along the inner frame of her mind, creating a solemn look upon her face. "Lunar Divide, share your strength with me. Let us become one in battle and may our enemies falter at every swing. Mercy never present." The loud sound of splitting wood drew her attention to the now fallen gate. Tales of foreign beasts were never rare, and she assumed one had taken up the task, but to her dismay only a few undead minions poured into the fold.

Celeste altered her standing position as she spread out her wings to their fullest extent. Gripping her halberd with both hands and then taking flight into the sky. This was the last stronghold left, and with the last Valkyrie present somewhere within, it was her duty to defend this place with her life. Carefully she scanned the enemies on the ground, analyzing their numbers, their approach, their weapons. Every aspect she could point out, she carefully locked the information away. A yearning to simply plunge into the field of battle outside of the gate was what she truly desired, but the enemy's numbers seemed endless. Certain suicide on her behalf. Instead Celeste chose to simply soar above the scene until the situation seemed grave, in which she would make her appearance in support of the defending forces.

"Hopefully this is but a front to test their defenses. The situation would become much more dire if those flying lizards were to appear..."

As iff falling from the sky, Zenatsu fell on top of an abandoned solider as the monsters flowed in like a river had breached a dam. Crushing the frail underling beneath his feet Zen outstretched his wings, which as zen stood, mad his 6"2' body stand out like a sore thumb, which is what he wanted. His wings retracted back into its folded position. and he readied his blade for the next onslaught of an up coming abandoned solider. "If its the city they wish to conquer! Then they must conquer the will, honor, strength, and dexterity of the inhabitants this city harbors!" Zenatsu roared as he butchered the head off of some grunt of a skeleton, then proceeded to smash it's frail ribs underneath his feet. Zenatsu was posistioned witht he front of the group, choosing the take on the blunt of the swarming force. It was more fun this way.

"Don't become cocky because these things are easily destroyed, we must persevere for the much tougher enemies that lie ahead! Fight smart comrades! dis arming and disabling the grunts is a key to leaving the brothers behind us more strength if you need to call for their aid!" Zenatsu continued to ring out his voice. Uncaring if other heard, or if others listened to his words. They were of motivation, and truth, If no one cared to hear it, then they were for himself, but it is willing to be shared with his comrades in arms if they so choose to heed the call. "The gate may be the only reason they are bottle-necked to small waves. Hold this gate if you wish yet not to suffer being swarmed!"

"If it is a fight the abandoned want!" Zenatsu grunted as he slayed yet another skeleton. "Then Nor is a name that houses those whom hold a blade to stand! To defend what it is we are here to protect! Don't think petty bones can stop you! for Nor will flourish!" Zenatsu cried out as he threw a skeleton behind him, letting those whom where there slaughter it.

Zen roared as his blade swung with elegance, ripping through soldiers of undead as if they were paper confetti. it seemed as if the waves of undead soldiers would never end, and no break was seen. No matter to Zenatsu however, he wanted to prove that there is no end to his determination, to protect his allies in arms.

Gideon's blood screamed with holy rage as he stepped from the doorway. His city. His people. His home. Just as he raised his blade to smite a flailing Abandoned warrior, he heard a voice to the side. A young man was yelling to move down the alley. It was a good plan. If they could form a small shield wall- three or four men at most- they could take their time backing up and wait for reinforcements. Gideon started to slam his sword blade against his rounded shield.

"To me!" He shouted, his voice full of command."To me, warriors!"

The Witchbane stepped into the mouth of the alley with the boy behind him. He adjusted his stance for that of a shield wall hoping those with battle experience would understand and follow suit. Those with spears and bows, or other projectiles, could fight from behind the wall without fear of retaliation.

Raziel walked silently in the city ally ways. He had no reason to join the fray outside of the city but his relics wanted to help." Damn these holy items!" His long black silk like hair resting on his shoulders, his armor was blue and white with some linen. Frowning he began running towards the gates. His hand slide behind his back and grasped the Sword of Anu. Pondering the outcome would prove only disaster at this time. The gates where closed, so he ran up the stair way leading up to the walls that surrounded the city. Jumping over the wall he would land on a fresh zombie that had gotten up. When he landed on it he had snapped the spine of it and dis lodged the head on a broken shield. Hearing the words." To me warriors, to me!" He decided he was not truly a warrior, just a traveling man who had no real future.

Seeing a man being ripped in two by a pair of zombies was not a great sight to see. Every where he looked he saw a gruesome sight of mangled bodies and limbs cast around as if they where discarded items. The battlefield was sickening , the few warriors alive seemed to be in a uproar, the berserker warriors seemed to be at a disadvantage. Raziel ran forward with his blade held in both hands. He jumped over a warrior that was grappling with a zombie for dear life. He found his first target, A zombie was holding a mans head. The head was still leaking blood and brain fluid. Moving at a angle he would swing the blade at a horizontal sweep. Coming down hard through the skeleton of the undead creature. After he swing Raziel turned around and parried a blow from a new attacker. This undead creature had one limb missing. The left hand which looked to be his shield arm was cut clean off.Now the real battle has began for Raziel and soon he would win or meet his match.

“We…are free…”

Nienna's words were the first she heard since she was awoken and it seemed as if she had read Enzeru's mind. Her eyelids slowly opened, her vision as sharp as ever. Scanning the crowd and the King before them. “Why have we been summoned?” The Tribal Elf questioned, but the King was at a loss for words. Enzeru stared straight forward, reading each face in the room. Most faces showed awe and hope whilst only a few others had a mix of confusion, fear and distrust. "She asked a question, I suggest answering it." Aran's voice was heard, advising the King to speak.

Enzeru side-glanced toward her fellow Blood Heroes. It's been a long time but we are here to fight together once again, she thought, returning her gaze to the crowd. Her deep violet eyes reached the King's face. He was middle-aged and looked how a King would look like, complete with guards and entourage behind him. "How are you expecting us to aid you if we do not know your situation? Speak nothing but the truth," she said, her voice like soft velvet. It was unusual hearing her voice after all this time. It felt like how you would feel if you were suddenly put into a slightly familiar body.

It was silent, everyone waiting for him to speak, wondering what he will say and how the Blood Heroes will react. It was a matter of time before he had to say something; the Blood Heroes wouldn't be standing there forever.