The dead moved through the orc and ogre ranks like the chill wind of death. The great creatures attempted to strike them down with clubs and axes, but the attacks were futile as the undead were lacking of physical substance, the mundane blades of the monstrous hordes passing through without harm while the chill grasp of the undead froze and devoured the still living beasts. The majority of the undead were seeking merely to protect their territory, to remove from it those who did not belong, and thus struck out at the ogres, but some were more mad--their sanity lost in the dark recesses of the world beyond the veil. They hated the living and wished only death upon this world.

These few ghosts flew out and struck at anything, whether human, orc, ogre, or any other being which still held life, draining the warmth and vitality from them with shrieks of inhuman rage.

Regardless of what it seemed--Misere was no necromancer and did not have it in her capacity to control so many undead, she had only been able to open the gate and invite them through.

~~~~~~

With the undead streaking through the square, the bolts of heaven falling upon them, Hashel's unrelenting strikes, a god at their back,and now the unnatural terror of Asidhara's faeish weapons, it was not long before the orcish hordes broke and began to flee in fear. For a moment there was celebration amongst the people who had been caught in the battle--and then they saw it.

A hideous creature, it seemed to be part troll and part fae. Tall of stature for a human, but far too short for a troll, its body was silvery and lanky, with bits of flesh flaking away to reveal more iridescent flesh beneath. Tufts of silver hair erupted from its malformed head irregularly hanging over its face--which still held something of a greenish pall, in those areas not covered by blood.

In its left hand it held the arm of an ogre, with large chunks of flesh missing as though the beast had been feasting upon the creature's flesh, while its other reached up toward the sky.

The orcs and ogres surged past it, never coming within ten feet of the creature as they attempted to flee, but Alucard hated the cowardly, and loved to kill, maim, and destroy.

A single bolt of red lightning lanced down from the sky and connected the god-creature's arm to the heavens, a pulsating writhing conduit of power which glowed with unnatural light and grew with each moment. Clouds swirled in the air above the retreating hordes and soon they too glowed with red power, until a lightning blasted down from the sky like hail stones in a summer storm, tearing apart monstrous flesh and the earth with each sweeping strike.

It lasted for but a minute, not a single bolt of lightning, miraculously, landing beyond the walls of the city--but the stench of death and burning flesh was not so polite as the lightning itself, and washed over those within the city walls as Alucard once more began his advance.

~~~~~

When he reached the gate a red barrier sprung into existence, power ripping through his body. Those who knew enough of the fae, would recognize their magics, as this was a barrier erected in ages past, when the fae races still ruled this land, to keep Alucard from the city. The ancient magic had not been treated well in the hands of humans, however, slowly losing its strength until it was no more than tissue paper to the god incarnate, as he tore through it to enter the square and moved toward the center of the city.

"Bwahahaha! Flee, cowards!" Asidhara cried from atop the ogre's corpse, down upon the retreating hordes of men and monster alike. The victory was palpable, sweet, and... Somehow, tainted. It was very soon that Asidhara found what taint this was.

Yes, that was him. Alucard... Somehow, some way, and there was no believing or disbeliving what he was. In fact, this paradox led Asidhara to simply stare, dumbstruck, at the approaching troll-fae for several moments. Lightning fell down around him, vaporizing his foes as it had so often done in the ages of antiquity. Asidhara could only help but cry an immediate command.

"... Alucard has returned! Prevent him from entering the cit-"

But there was no preventing Alucard from entering the city. Ancient wards of advanced fae magic Asidhara recognised as complicated multiple-caster wards broke before the incarnate god of destruction like naught but cheap hedge-magic. At the moment he broke through the ward, the two's eyes met for a time that seemed incalcuably long. Asidhara could feel the god of destruction look cleanly through her. There was not a more terrifying experience one her age could endure.

At that moment, she lapsed all her attunements, voiding Hashel's empowerment, and dispelling her own glamour. The form of Johanna melted away to reveal the dark-robed, crystal-armored mein of Asidhara in her "true" seeming. Now was not the time to be bogged down by mortal affairs, and any sane human would recognize the greater threat posed by Alucard. That, and she needed all of her magic to survive escaping the god of destruction.

"The battle is lost!" Her voice carried throughout the chaos like the sound of several chaotically agitated windchimes, "Flee at once!"

And with that, she did the least courageous thing that came to mind, and fled down the walls, keeping away from the inner city. For while Asidhara understood the importance of stopping Alucard, she knew full well that her abilities meant nothing to the avatar of incarnate destruction.

Skitterleap looked up from sawing at Undunduhs neck with his shortsword. The Ogre chieftan had been one of the first to fall to the strange silver trolls tearing claws, but leaving no opportunity wasted, he decided to claim the trophy (and the reward) Hopefully after the fight the guilds council would still be interested in giving out the reward.

As the red light flared at the gates, he heard the troll/thing howl in triumph and a voice boomed like a drawer full of silverware hitting the floor shouting "all is lost! flee!"

Well, all was not lost. SKitterleap had his head, and if he wanted to get his fee he'd better get while the getting is good.

Above the battle, wrapped about with terror and glory at the heart of the swirling winds he had called to his defence, Gem watched.

He had called down the lightning upon the ogres and it had wrought a bloody toll. A fraction of their original numbers stood in the field of silver spears he had hurled down onto them. The advance was thrown into dissarray, the ogres further back forced to stumble forwards over the prone bodies of the wounded and the dead.

The reaction to his apparent divine intervention was less marked than he had expected. Perhaps the people here were empty, turning the miraculous into the mundane. Or perhaps they mistook him for the great working that Misere had promised them. Her statues had, in part, inspired him to take upon this motif after all.

But, at battle's end, it would be revealed that the human magus hadn't anything to do with this sudden apparition. And then they would wonder.

He noted with amusement that Asidhara had changed her mind about retreating.

Misere completed her spell. With the beat of a ragged drum, mist seeped out from the old, old bones of the city. The price of blood had been paid and the dead came forth, fear and the inevitable march of death their weapons. The spirit host was uncontrolled, compelled by their desire to guard the place where their bodies lay, save for the few dark souls that had persisted in the long darkness and taken their chance to slip back into the realm of the living again. The city would not be the same for a long time to come; not all the dead would return quietly to their graves.

Such magic was foreign to Gem. To even consider using such a slaughter as this battle to fuel a spell was alien. Certainly, he knew of those who would use the specific sacrifice of a few, but to use the gross energy left over by a mass expiration of life was almost inconcievable. Death was a rarity in the timeless realms of the fae and the power released by such a spilling of blood had not been seen there since the ancient wars with the humans. And to rip a breech between this world and the next, allowing the unquiet dead to spill through uncontained! At once intrigued and disturbed, the faerie dragon watched.

And then came ruin. Black flame consumed ogres in their hundreds, and then black clouds gathered, crimson lightning slashing down again and again and again. The ogre army, already battered from their unrelenting assault upon the city was broken and scattered.

Alucard walked across the wounded, carrion strewn ground. At the gate he was for a moment halted but the wards, old, decrepit, forgotten and abandoned, parted and unravelled. Through the gate he came, to kill and burn and then kill again.

Over the commotion he heard Asidhara shout. "The battle is lost! Flee at once!" the faerie turned and ran, abandoning all spells and glamour she had about her. She fled, naked of any deceit.

Gem's thoughts seemed to move with glacial slowness. He did not know if this was a foe he could stand up against. He had never turned his mind to such acts of destruction as this beast had commited.

The faerie dragon let slip his glamour of angelic splendor, something he had already let dim in his inattention. There was no longer any need for it; no-one would be watching him.

"Even if the act is futile, at least the attempt must be made." he said.

Gem descended, knowing his spells would more effective closer. He gathered power, magic welling up from within, pulling in the scattered tatters of spent spells, unravelling the stolen whirlwind about him. The wards he beseeched to surrender the power that remained in their broken wreckage as they screamed, still futilely trying to drive back the presence violating the grounds of the city.

And then he called to the dead.

He had watched and learned as Misere had cast her spell and now there had been a slaughter beyond belief beyond the gates of the city. There was a sea of spent life there, the individual dregs of wasted potential gathered into a mighty ocean. Gem reached for it and the roiling pool responded. It flowed like lava, like blood, crying out mutely to be avenged.

His pull on the energy of the slain tugged him partway out of the world of the living; he peered into the netherworld, the breech Misere had torn still open. The marching ranks of the dead grew clearer to him, he could feel their terrible chill and see the hunger in their eyes. He became more visible to them and they flocked about him.

Gem suppressed a shudder, for he was but a novice here and a moment's weakness would be his end. I would defend your city, he told the dead that Misere had summoned. Lend me your strength.

The dead must have believed him, or his will to live was stronger than them, for they drew back, agitated ghosts circling about him in a spiritual maelstrom.

The crimson flow of the slain in motion, Gem's life stabilised. The netherworld retreated, the dead becoming pale shades once more. He had to strike - he could no longer hope to hide himself. It was probable every single mage in the city could now feel the sucking drain as he tugged at all sources of power he could reach.

Abandoning all pretence at hiding his work from Alucard, Gem struck.

Wings working, Gem came out from low over the rooftops, swooping over a lane and into clear sight of Alucard. Closer he could better see the slow metamorphosis of the creature Alucard possessed. It was as if the troll was rotting away, leaving only the impervious core of the god behind.

Gem sent his thought over Alucard, a glamour swelling out from the faerie dragon like a ripple in the world. He sought to baffle and slow the advance of the horror that advanced into the city, spinning illusion and twists in perception. His glamoured world turned the city into a maze, twisting and turning, leading into dead ends of regret and bitterness, where the dead cried their ainguish.

Doorways gaped invitingly open, the darkness behind them deeper than the houses had any right to contain, smelling of blood. Lanes turned about, direction lost, always funneling one away and outwards, motions feeling slow and stupid. The patches of mist sparkled, threatening to entrance with their beauty and their heady vapours. Wind keened, the dead's voices upon it. Attacked, the city moved, flowing and healing around its injuries.

Looking up to escape from the city tangle, the narrow wedge of sky between the towering buildings was a brilliant, unclouded azure. It tugged the eye, drawing it and the mind into the unimaginable expanse of infinite blue, a vastness beyond comprenhension, bringing on a stupor.

In this empty puzzle-world, Gem hoped to slow Alucard and deprive him of his slaughter.

"haak!" a ragged, painful cry was loosed from Hashel's lips as Asidhara removed her benediction from his weary shoulders. He collapsed to his knees as his flesh cooled and his body regained it's normalcy.

Panting, wide eyed and furtive, Hashel seemed as though he'd just awakened from a nightmare, though strangely enough into another nightmare of surpassing terror.

Wobbly kneed and short of breath the Blade Prince drew himself hup once more, blade dulling with the detritus of the slain. He saw Asidhara for the briefest of moments in her true form, a thing of beauty and infinite deceit fleeing from the city, obviously no longer interested in this game as the stakes grew to astronomical levels.

Something came, something beyond them all.

Hashel felt a strange pang of hesitation, the effects of his humanity reasserting dominance after the brief lapse to the mien of a mad god.

What could he do? What should he do?

Hashel removed a tiny leather pouch from his waste, a trinket he'd never thought he'd ever have to use. He tugged gently at the lanyard and removed the pouches contents, a single disk of dull silver metal.

It was a simple charm, called a "Callback" ensorcelled into a false coin. It served one purpose, to transmit a single message across distances through the vaguaries of magic.

Two other's held such charms, almost identical. His lieutenants still presumably fighting near the front.

Hashel spoke softly into the disk, defeat apparent in his voice.

"This city falls my friends, I wish it weren't so. Stand and fight, or leave and find another fortune with me, the choice I leave to you, I see no victory here, something evil comes..."

...................................

"...something evil comes" The words were a haunting epitaph to the day, as soon it would be buried beneath the rubble of a city being lost. Lieutenant Orvadio grasped the small coin with such force a tiny trickle of blood left his hand, to his left another Ogre fell to his advancing men, the creature seeming to have lost their will to fight on.

"Halt men! Regroup about me!" Orvadio ordered in a voice that carried despite the din.

"We are lost men, let us fight our way through this, if we are lucky, perhaps we see another day." Orvadio said sternly. His men, weary with the battle and lost to the simplicity of survival nodded their compliance and the small band began it's exit from the field.

..................................................

"...something evil comes..."

Elizabrand heard the message vaguely as she pulled her hefty broadsword from the sternum of a particularly voracious ogre. Her fine surcoat was covered in spatter patterns, looking more like a butcher of livestock than a leader of men. Her dwindling company were iron jawed and wild eyed, the dead-eye boys still taking shots at great distance into the backs of the fleeing Ogre's.

"Feh, I never much liked the winters here in any case..." Lieutenant Evenstride said to herself.

"Wah? What the devil are ya on 'bout now maam?" came the husky reply of Sergeant Iryus, a lady as broad as she was plain. (which was quite broad, by the by).

"Nothing sergeant, nothing save the clamoring of the damned for our souls, quite annoying if you ask me. I declare that it is time to take our leave of this place. It's been ages since I had a nice tan anyways." Evenstride spoke, her voice never losing it's casual, conversational tone.

"Yer the boss Maam," came Iryus's reply.

"ALL RIGHT BOYS! PACK IT IN! WE'RE MOVIN' OUT!"

......................................

Hashel tossed the trinket into the hard packed earth, a lost token of a dream he no longer dreamed. Asidhara's footsteps grew farther away, and Hashel finally gave in to his cravings of freedom.

"I shall return to this place, someday. If only to witness it's ruins, I shall return." Hashel pledged, as the god-beast grew closer.

Hashel began making his way down the wall, wondering what had become of his fickle mistress, what would become of him.

Anim, now drenched in the blood of orc and ogre alike, watched as the ogre army fled.

Then his eyes fell apon... He gasped. He had never felt such power, not even from his creator. It seemed to be coming from what appeared to be a small deformed troll. He watched as this foul creature raise his hand and brought death down on the horde, utterly destroying it. He watched as it made its way through the corpse-stained road to the city, madness and destruction emanating from the creature.

He heared his commanding officer cry "The Battle is lost, flee at once!" Anim obeyed this, but decided it would be best to stick close to the commander. He ran after her.

"Commander!" Anim shouted "What was that thing? A... Faetroll?" Anim squinted "You're not the commander... are you?"

Freeny watched the battle from his hiding spot quite bored with the way things were going. He was bored and in his hiding spot only until lightnings started to fall, colors began to burst in the air and it looked like dead people began to fight. This was all too good just to sit around and watch!

Freeny darted in and around the fight, snagging anything that caught his eye, a chipped bone from the necklace of an ogre chieftan, some small rings and a couple fancy daggers, nothing really to write home about. As each item went into his pouches Freeny solemnly swore that he would bring them to the families of the fallen warriors, and promptly forgot. After a bit Freeny caught sight of Asidhara, and her hat, still perched on her head.

"It wouldn't do to lose that hat..." Was all that Freeny was think of as he began to trace her flighting steps through the ruinous maze of corpses and treasure.

Suddenly, the world turned upside down, then right side up, then upside down and finally right side up. Freeny suprisingly found himself sitting on the ground against a wall, with the severed head of an ogre firmly lodged against his gut. The ogre sure looked suprised to be where he was too.

After a good stretch of running, Asidhara stopped... She turned around, slowly, teeth chittering with anxiety, and craned her head to get a good glimpse of the destruction being wrought by Alucard. Several of the others were following her, much to her dismay.

The Xodar asked her if she was the commander, but it didn't seem to understand. Didn't they have better eyes than humans?

"Yes, I am. Isn't it obvious? You expected a mere human to stave off a suicidal mission?" Asidhara rhetorically replied, and then offered Anim a response he might find more... Suitable. "That thing, that... Troll, is the chained avatar of destruction. Alucard, they called him. I have no idea how that impossibly powerful beast got here, but we cannot fight him. Not now, not without preparation..."

"What should we do then?" Anim asked his commander (Fortunately for Asidhara he put his questions over her appearance down to unfamiliarity.) "How do we stop it?"

The battle seemed to be going well as it looked through Kay’s eyes, until the tide of orges started to reside like the sea at low tide. Kay couldn’t see the flames but she felt the magic shift in an uneasy way “Some thing wicket this way comes,” Something worse than the behemoth. Kay was quick in her movements as she prepared two spells to cut a hole through which she could escape.

Across the field near a bar that often caters to the soldiers, now catering to a fright mob Jack emerged to see the bird in armor melt away to a bird in dark robes and shiny semi-clear armor with wings “I fucking knew it!” He said pointing the now fleeing Fae. Bring his bow back into the fight he continued to strive for the gate; either unaware of the danger, enriched with the knowledge of his correct assuming, or just plain piss drunk. He pulled his arrow back and faced the fae when his attention landed on his half “friend” Kay. “Wherr tis evry one going?”

“Jack?” Kay first said at the advent of the archer, and then continued to say “Big scary fae monster coming through the gate.” Kay said running to and along the wall. She wanted to seen as little as possible by the blunt superpower.

Jack seemed unaffected by her words as she stayed in the square as the lone defender of the gate. With everyone fleeing ground zero, Jack’s last few arrows were the only welcome the beast would receive. Around him he saw a young chap not three days into his manhood. In some deep part of his mind unaffected by the alcohol Jack signed. It was about as much of a requiem as this boy would be allotted. The boy’s family would more than likely fall in the destruction. His name along with his sire name would be lost like so many others.

A red aura was fading as Jack the last man standing greeted not only his doom but the doom of his whole damned city. “Greeting to Chicago, Porky” At his last defiance, Jack let his bow pricking. The arrow hit its mark but did not slow the doom down. The monster took the arrow in hand and ripped it from its eye socket. The eye grew back in an instant. The monster reversed the arrow and sent it through Jack’s own eye. The monster snapped his claw like fingers and the arrow tip exploded inside his skull. Jack fell to the ground with his functioning brain nothingness in an empty container he once knew as his head.

He was a patriot required to perform his nobilities’ deviltries, now no more. Jack had finally completed his tour of service; his death, his honorable discharge from an army that no longer found any glory or honor.

((I killed Jack if you couldn’t get that!))
***
Kay could not look back he couldn’t face another close death. The death of a stranger is nothing. The stranger had a no name label on him, with no memories attached to him. It the ones who have history behind them that get cha the most. It there was a way to the sol set it was following that damned Fae! It pleased Kay to finally realize where her hate for the woman came from.”That’s what Jack was trying to tell everyone” Kate thought in her head.

In her sprint out of the square Kay picked by a small person with a head in its lap, while turning her pistol to her course. Her spell thus prepared she shot a flame boulder to ploy down the enemies in front of her; she could no longer tell the human from the orges as the flaming ball played, Kay following close in its fire shadow. The rock was flung away as Kay settled into stride with a Xodar and the Fae. “Well look who settled into the queen position so early.”