Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Ourlst felt that if he continued with his current strategy, that time would eventually be wasted accomplishing nothing, the livings were getting used to the simple hit and run tactic, it was high time to demonstrate to the general that even he, the left hand, could make proper use of the aspects of war and conquest, both were strategic, both were thoughtful, but both were also brutal and senseless, marrying both of those sides ought to be the key to proper usage of their powers.

To this end, Ourlst gathered troops hidden from sight, underground, he had placed groups of rot summoners further away from the camp, far down the sides of the southern wall, those wielding rot was only a natural occurrence, they had come before the miasma warriors and black blood wielders, although, utilising primeval rot was night impossible for a singular undead, so they instead used lesser variations, and for specific purposes, as the name implied, rot summoners melded it to shape rot creations, some sort of rot golems.

At a set time, they would act and draw attention to their positions, although, the most problematic individuals would remain with all eyes on the undead camp itself, due to agreements to not ravage the land, using rot to transport large amounts of troops was impossible.

Battle was already declared, and the left hand had deflected any attempt at installing a truce, he could strike as he wished at any time, the livings obviously knew this, obviously, but after so long of the same tactic, just how much would they be expecting it at any given time? Ourlst believed that the notion of another true battle had slowly sunk lower in their expectations.

At least, for the common soldiers and knights, Aramap and Alisart Cleavster were on the ready, Ourlst had not gotten to gauge the warking's true strength, and from what he had been hearing from Horhir, his fellow had also not gotten to witness the might of any of those warmongering leaders, one could only make assumptions.

Tapping the pommel of his blade, the lieutenant awaited the agreed time to come.

'Soon…'

Although Loimos had trusted Ourlst with dealing with the south, he should not only narrow his view upon this region, were he to walk upon it, striking another region was not out of the question, from what he had heard, the east should be weakening at this very moment.

'In just an instant…' perfectly in tune, an army of undead appeared completely out of left field, assembling in just a moment before the wall, right where the very first battle at taken place, for moment, they were completely unnoticed however, at multiple points to the right and left, massive mounds of rot erupted to the skies, vaguely shaped like creatures, the rot summoners not bothering on the aesthetic of their creations, simply sending the full weight of them right at the wall, splattering all over, flooding the surroundings with decaying flesh, every ounce of it seeking to latch upon all that held even a minuscule amount of life.

All living eyes fell upon that, the movements of Ourlst's troops silent, only noticed as the great radiance of holy death fell upon them, all of the priests and missionaries were working together, at least all of those under the left hand's command.

Alisiana and the gaunt deacon, Grilt, were present as well, the former visibly more thrilled about the whole thing than the later, who was wholly impassive, those two's casting of blessings were especially potent.

"Shit…" Aramap cursed as he grabbed a javelin from his back "...Aim for the one at the forefront!"

Shouting out his order, the undead at the very front being Ourlst himself, his greatsword raised aloft, positioned as though preparing for an overhead, downward slash, clear flames appearing within his unfeeling eyes.

As soon as the order was given, a hail of arrows bloomed, headed by a javelin, aimed squarely as the undead's chest, Cleavster unsheathed his own blade, helm already upon the head, even though he had been preparing for a possible assault, the sheer speed at which the enemy had assembled put to shame his own men.

He wondered whether to open the gates and allow his warriors to come flooding out, they wouldn't have time to assume any proper formation, and allowing the gates to open would certainly just allow the undeads to just waltz right through.
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However, Alisart did not have to make a difficult choice at all, Ourlst's blade came down, a malignant force trickling down his left arm and into the sword, the undead muttered something unheard by all, alongside the movement of the blade, a slash of pungent dark splitting the air, heading straight for the gate and wall, all arrows and projectiles vanished in the blink of an eye, rusted and decayed in a mere moment.

Both the warking and his greatest knight jumped out of the way, the defence they had brought together not faring any better, molten by the release of pestilence, the slash stopped at the gate, collapsing into nothingness at the same time Ourlst fell to one knee, this took a lot out of him, this actually spent his inner death force to properly utilise without decaying himself away in the process.

This part of Loimos's power was incredibly ravaging, even the knight dedicated to only using a single of the four aspects of the apocalypse would struggle, so for Ourlst, who vied for a grasp upon as many of his general's powers as he could, it was especially draining.

"The south… is open!" with those words, death breached the wall, but did not get very far before encountering a roadblock, although a path was made, the undeads had to funnel themselves into tight passage to get in, a passage such as this one was easy to defend.

"They are backing away!" a knight shouted from somewhere, and indeed, the undeads were not fully committing to pouring through the gap, they were only moving in just enough to not be in a precarious situation, only remaining close and launching constant attacks to prevent repairs from taking place.

Lifted back to his feet by a few knights, Ourlst had achieved his first objective, creating a gaping gash in the south's greatest defence, as one would when wounded, all attention was attention to this injury.

But this wall was a long one, with a fair number of gates, because of course, warriors and knights needed a way in and out when battling undeads outside, they couldn't just be made to converge back to a single gate, that would make them easy targets.

This simple fact had made them susceptible to a most basic scheme.

Indeed, Ourlst had often heard that war was an elaborate dance, but to him, it had mostly been a game of calculations, get a grasp of the enemy's numbers, force them to stack up in one area and then, using his superior amount of troops, he was free to strike anywhere.