The Grim Legion

by Kindred Ult

  "Skull?" She whispered, in disbelief.

  His face, or rather, what seemed more like a semi-transparent model of his face transposed over his tell-tale bone structure, grinned.

  "Yes, sister." His voice hollow and forced, as if it echoed off of himself before passing to the rest of them, and all found it extremely unnerving.

  "H-How are you alive!" She yelled and ran to him. When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his waist area. She felt only bones between her arms, and could also tell that he had nothing below the pelvis. Still, she could feel him, like she had for so many years when they were children. She knew it was him, and this knowledge of having him back, after only just coming to terms with the fact that he was dead, made her lose herself. She buried her face in his cloak and began to cry. He placed a hand on her back comfortingly, and replied.

  "I passed the final test in my death, sister. I have become a true Lich. I am here to offer my great powers to this war, and also to steal away the control of our nation away from your conniving hands." She looked up at him with tear-stained eyes and smiled. She knew what he was doing.

  She tried to compose herself and act like they always had. "Very well, I suppose there's nothing I can do against the power of a Lich. I rescind our people to you."

  "Ah, thank you," He said flippantly. "Now," He turned his head around to regard all of the necromancers in the pavilion, and also those he could see from the entrance, "I say what my sister said, we will fight. However, all of us will fight. The men, women, and children. Those with wives, children, parents, ailments, and even those already dead. Let it not be said that, in our last battle, the Necromancers gave any less than all others. We will fight in this battle, and we will either die or survive. Even if we die, we will not falter. Death means nothing to us, because we are masters of death itself. We are death incarnate. We have made it our slave, to be led where we please. We will never be defeated. We are eternal!"

  No clapping greeted him, but still he smiled, because he knew why. All necromancers at the moment were at that moment staring into the distance, with shocks running throughout the entirety of their bodies. They were so inspired by his words that they had no words in their mouths, or even in their minds. Even Demenn could tell what had happened. They were all now hopelessly devoted.

  It was the werwolf King who spoke first. His voice cut the silence like a knife, and all faces snapped back to him when his deep voice rumbled out. "With this, our meeting is adjourned. We will announce later when we will assemble. Take this time to return to your dwellings, prepare yourselves, and rest. Captains, and those who you consider appropriate, come to the center of the tent for our council."

  There was a general flood as those who had come began to move towards the exit, and a very small amount of them tried to worm their way to the middle. Demenn and the other captain were already close, and as such were able to reach there quite swiftly. When they did, Demenn was able to look around at those left alive. When he did, he was immediately reminded of how Julius died, but he was also glad that so many were still alive, and that was all he could ask for. One face amazed him, though, and that was the captain of the first squad. Demenn had known the squad would die, as the other captain had made him save the others, and had stayed on his own. He had even felt the first squad break, and yet here was its captain.

  For a moment, he felt anger as he thought that the captain had abandoned his squad, but then he realized that was not possible, as Demenn would have seen it. He was struck speechless when he realized the only other alternative: this captain had fought until his squad had collapsed, until every one had died, and only then battled his way back to vampire lines. In all, seven of them were here. Demenn, the first squad's captain, Valdivai, Samael, Bilal, Diana, and Ezekiel. He was glad so many had lived, and could only hope that more werewolf captains had.

  His hope was rewarded when all of the others had left the pavilion, and twenty werewolves, beside Brand and the King, stood with them. Even in their human forms, all of them looked deadly for various reasons. Some were hulking, brutish monsters, some small and slender, and other seemed normal except for the strange weapons they carried with them. Demenn learned that the reason so many were left alive was that they had been a part of the attack on the camp, and as such had minimal losses.

  Nightwing, the weredragon, had recently entered, most likely at Brand's request. The Necromancers had no captains, as they had no army, but Skull had selected their ten strongest to join the council along with Sophella and himself. Brand had twenty officers with him, ten from the vampire slayers and ten from the paladins. The Paladin Commander was with him as well, and he seemed remarkably at ease, even though he was surrounded by many different species he had sworn to destroy, and who held no love for him and his kind. He was tall, silent, smiling, and looked remarkably young for his station.

  When all stood before the raised platform, Safiria began. "You are all here to discuss our battle plans. As of yet, there are none, but before we make any, we need to know just how many warriors we have at our disposal. The vampires have roughly eight hundred fighters with us, counting the militia that is."

  "The werewolves number about two thousand five hundred." The King looked proud.

  "There are currently one hundred and fifty-six able-bodied necromancers. All will fight." Sophella nodded in agreement as Skull spoke.

  "The vampire slayers number close to nine hundred." They had only recently entered the fight, and as Brand spoke, all knew that they would be a pivotal force in this battle.

  "The paladins number slightly more than that." Despite his young face, the Paladin commander had a very mature voice. It sounded almost playful, however, and Demenn smiled at his pluckiness.

  "And I'm here," Nightwing felt so inclined to add, even though most assumed it was a rather pointless assertion, as he was most certainly already added to their calculations.

  "Very good, we have about, five thousand warriors, which is more than I assumed, and more than I could have hoped for. However, I'm sure any who have fought the werepyres knows that this is not enough, especially in a pitched battle. We must not fight a straight fight with them. We need a very good strategy if we are to have any hope of defeating them. Do any have a suggestion?"

  She scanned the crowd, which was silent for a moment before Demenn spoke.

  "Forgive me, matriarch, for my impertinence, but I believe that I do have a strategy that might work."

  She raised one eyebrow, delicately but firmly, daring him to be right. "Proceed captain Demenn."

  He cleared his throat. "My plan is this: Once the werepyres reach us, we move as if we were to meet them in a pitched battle, but once the two sides charge, a small group of us will infiltrate their army and assassinate their leader, Lueke."

  She did not appear convinced, nor did any of the others. "And why would slaying their leader stop them or win this battle for us, Demenn?"

  He took at deep breath. "Because Lueke is not a real werepyre."

  There was a stunned silence, and when the import of his words were fully realized, Safiria's face changed. "Explain yourself."

  "Yes, matriarch. Lueke is a human who somehow has morphing abilities. Early on in the history of the werepyres, he killed their true leader and originator Lueke, changed into his form, and took his place as the leader of the werepyres. It seems that he was the one who incited the werepyres to rage and fury at their state, and who cultivated them into the beasts they are today. He is the sole reason they fight. He is like a god to them. They take their motivation from the fact that neither the originator of the vampires, nor that of the werewolves, is still alive, while theirs is." He was working on information morphed together between what he had learned from N'colto, and from what Varus could remember. He only hoped that he was right. "If we show them that their leader is only a human, they will at the very least lose all of their immediate motivation, and at the best, choose to no longer fight in their disillusionment."

&nb
sp; Safiria thought hard for a moment, before the King broke through with a question. "And how is it you know so much about this Lueke, vampire?"

  Demenn was prepared for that. The truth was best. "N'colto, the leader of the Chiroptera, told me before he died."

  "And I can back up what he says." Varus cut in, although he felt scared just saying that. He had been brought here by Demenn, but nevertheless felt out of place, like he was not worthy to be here.

  "And who are you, that your knowledge is so worth hearing?" The King was not near convinced.

  "I am Varus, a first class vampire who recently defeated, killed, and ate the heart of Dimitrious, who was the councilor to Vladimir, and a werepyre himself." Varus could not help but let a small streak of pride run through him at saying those words. "I have acquired all of his countless years of knowledge, and know what Demenn says to be true from his memories."

  After that revelation, even the King seemed more inclined to listen to Demenn. Safiria seemed to be done thinking, and she spoke.

  "Fine, I will believe your story, but now tell me this. How many will you include in your 'small group'?"

  Demenn knew that this was where things would get rather complicated. "I was hoping to take all of the best warriors present here, as well as two of my own men, Varus and Niethel." A sharp report from behind told him that Niethel was, in fact, here, and the rest of the responses were varying degrees of outrage at taking the best from the fight. He continued quickly. "I was also hoping to warp them right to the fake Lueke, is that possible, Sophella?"

  Sophella at first nodded, but then shook her head. "No, not with that many, the shock of teleportation would probably kill me, and leave all of you too incapacitated to fight. Warping is not an option."

  Demenn was chagrined. "Well then, we will have to just—"

  "Ah, wait a moment." It was Skull, who still hovered in the air. "What my sister said is only half-true. While it is true that no mortal could teleport as many as it seems you have in mind, I most certainly have the power to do so now. Also, I could magically transfer all of the shock and pain of teleportation all of you feel onto myself. Since I am truly undead, I would feel nothing of it. Warping is most certainly an option."

  "Ah," Demenn was silent for a moment, "Very well, then I would like to formally submit my strategy to the leaders. My plan would require Myself, Brand of the vampire slayers, Varus and Niethel, Sophella and Skull, and one-third of all captains and officers present, or at least as many as will come or can be spared."

  Safiria and the King looked almost surprised. "You do not wish for the King or myself to join?" She almost looked offended, and a small amount of the old fear he had for her crept up Demenn's spine.

  "My Matriarch. It would most certainly be best for you and the King to stay with the armies, as well as the Paladin Commander. You are our greatest chance of survival, and this mission, if it does not succeed, is most certainly to be the death of all involved. We need the two of you to survive, and also to show the troops in the main army that we are with them. They will most certainly break and fall without your presence. It pains me to say so, but almost all of the rest of us are quite expendable, while the two of you are priceless. With the three of you, the armies will hold, and have the best chance for survival. If they break, run, or die, then even if the small group does find victory, it will be for nothing." He spoke quickly out of habit, and he hoped everything he said made sense.

  She cocked her head to the side for a moment and smiled. "Very well then I will accept your plan, promise three of my captain besides you, and stay with my people." He had almost forgotten how beautiful her smile was. "Are there any objections to the strategy, or any others to be presented.?"

  Amazingly, there were none, and one by one the other leaders consented to the plan and pledged a certain amount of their captains present. Once the numbers were decided on, it was left to the captains to decide among themselves who would fight. After a brief conference, all of those who would be a part of the assassination attempt gathered in a group. From the vampire captains, Samael, Valdivai, and the first squad captain had volunteered, and none of that surprised Demenn. He had heard Samael yelling that he wanted to be in the group from quite a ways away.

  From the werewolves, six captains came. All of them looked like the kind who joined simply because they wanted some killing only for themselves or because they did not mind dying tonight. The necromancers sent none, but justified it by saying that Skull and Sophella were their two strongest, and they would need all of the others to compensate for their loss. Three vampire slayers came with Brand, their brown trench coats flapping and their wide hats shifting lightly as they walked to join the ranks of their enemies. Four paladins came, as the Paladin commander felt bad for not coming himself, and that was all. Nightwing had wished to come, but was convinced that he would be noticed too quickly, and would most certainly be needed with the main army, as he may be one of the few beings that was stronger than a werepyre. Varus agreed immediately, and Niethel could not resist Sophella.

  Twenty-one in all. Not a very small number, and yet not a large one either. Maybe just enough. "We can only hope that this will be enough," Safiria looked at the group and was slightly reassured.

  "We will be far more than enough, matriarch," Demenn replied with a false grin and bravado he did not feel. To finish his charade, he bowed to the rulers, spun to the side, and walked from the pavilion. Most followed after him before dispersing to their individual tents, and eventually even the Matriarch and King left. In the end, for some reason, only Brand and the Paladin commander were still standing where they had been when the meeting was adjourned.

  Brand did not know why he stayed, or why the Paladin Commander had, but when the other began speaking to him, he listened.

  "You know, Brand, you let that vampire beat you. E had always intended to give the sword to you, once his life was finished." He spoke evenly, and as he did he walked forward, until they stood side-by-side.

  The statement surprised Brand, but his answer was ready, and still weighed on his mind. "But my heart was not pure enough. That blade is holy beyond my knowledge, and it rejected me because of my sins. I was not good enough."

  "And you think that vampire is more pure than you? Is his heart more holy?" There was a crooked half-smile on his face, as he tilted his head to regard Brand.

  The thought had never entered into Brand's mind, but now that it did, it struck him. He started to answer, then stopped, thought, and started again. "Well..." He trailed off. Could that vampire be more pure than he? He had known Demenn, and had fought with him. He was an honorable fighter, but he was definitely not holy.

  After just a moment to let Brand collect his thoughts, the Paladin Commander continued. "Brand, let me tell you something that E never let any person know about his sword. No one is pure enough, good enough, or holy enough to hold it at first."

  It was a blunt statement, and it rocked Brand back immediately. "What?" was all that he could articulate.

  The Paladin Commander took a moment to collect his thoughts, letting one hand stray to his chin for a moment, and then began his explanation.

  "You see, E discovered, after his first few years of trying to save his sister, that he was not able to destroy all vampires on his own, and that was what had to happen if she were to be saved. It was then that he decided to return to his homeland and create the vampire slayers, and of course when he got there his people were dead. With that, he would have to recruit men and women from all over the forest, and the continent, and train them. After doing this for many years, he came to realize that his quest would take far longer than he had originally expected, longer, potentially, than he had left to live. The fact that he would most likely die or become senile before his goal could be accomplished gave him pause. He did not want to die with his goals unfulfilled. Rumor is, he shut himself into his room. Some say he was communing with God, others that he was working magic, and still others say that he was making a d
eal with the devil.

  Regardless, after seven days of not coming out of his rooms, and not accepting the food and drink left outside of his door, E finally emerged from his room alive. He looked emaciated, and completely exhausted, but beside that he carried a sword. Although none truly know where it came from, or who it came from, and he gave no explanation for his knew weapon, eventually it began to be called the Sword of Office, and is so today. It was an immensely powerful sword; one whose equal I have yet to see on this earth."

  Brand knew everything the Paladin Commander was saying, but he also knew him well enough to know that he never spoke without cause, so he kept quiet as the other continued.

  "Well, things carried on normally, with the vampire slayers stationed in towns and taking on the roles of protectors rather than aggressors until E could build them and train them into the army he needed, until the day that the paladins' castle was overrun by an undead army led by an extremely powerful rogue necromancer. As valiantly as my men fought, they had no leadership, as I was, ironically, visiting E and his organization for the first time to see what they were about. I was attempting to set up good relations between the two of us, but had to leave before any real connection could be made to help my people. I left swiftly, but before I could truly leave, E was beside me, and offering the help and assistance of the entire vampire slayer army.