Not again!

Screamed Cassius, today was not his day. Three different battles today, and every time he was covered in filth. How other soldiers keep themselves clean was beyond him. He would probably go wallow in his tent from his lack of cleanliness, but right now all his thoughts were about his poor sabatons and armor.

Oh, gods and goddesses! How I hate cleaning this armor!

After two months of marching from the High Elven city Uls Aronusic, his armor did not have a spot that he did not clean out hundreds of times already. Especially considering that they were marching within the Desolate lands. Filled with dust and dust and more dust and let us not forget the hordes of monsters that seem to ooze filth and slime too.

Having just gutted a Crewlark; a horrendous looking beast. Twenty feet long, this was a centipede-like creature with useless wings and a face resembling a dog. It had a brown carapace that split with its segmented body and two jaws separate from its mouth ready to snap shut around anything that comes in its path; one could not find a more perfect horror tale monster. Not considering Cassius’s distaste towards such ugly beasts, it had vomited all over his boots in its death throes. Now he will have to spend hours just trying to get this horrible reek off his poor metal sabatons! He already had enough work with his duties as a paladin attendant.

I always thought Paladin Teacher Lena was a sadistic monster, forcing us to clean out armors by the wagon load. Daily! But it has made it much easier on me now thankfully.

As he reminisced on past memories and torturous trainings, he still did not quite wrap his head around why they had to use tiny brushes and clover leaves to clean those full plate armors. She did some crazy things whenever she had a class. It almost seemed as though she enjoyed the painful groan and cries of distress.

Thankfully, she retired before we could have started on her gauntlet of death. I did not hear good things about them at all.

Shivers ran down his back as he remembered how broken the paladins who ran her gauntlet looked. They were never the same after that. As he continued to daydream about the grueling lessons he used to have with Paladin Teacher Lena, High Paladin Zakir Azlif, cuffed him on the head with a gauntleted hand. Zakir was a tall man, close to six feet six inches in height, with broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair, and a beard so well combed and oiled that it blinded any who dared to stare at its majestic luster for too long. He was also never caught outside of his tent without his special made armor. Pure white with golden inlays, and the insignia of a High Paladin of the Goddess of Light.

“Foolish boy!” shouted Zakir with an awkward drawl “Stop daydreaming, we are in the desolate lands near mount Wilanro! Without paying attention to your surroundings you will die in mere moments. We have faced Crewlarks, tribes of crazed Cyclopes, and those pesky Griffins. Yet here you are dawdling on the battlefield! I had chosen you as my personal paladin attendant for your attentiveness. Do not let my faith in you waver so. “

Keeping his face as straight and as impassive as possible - in hopes that its traitorous tendencies did not get out of hand - mayhap he ends up with latrine duty again. Too many times he had frowned or smiled at the wrong times and they all resulted in latrine duty. Thankfully, High Paladin Zakir loved to see clean armor or he would have had to do them all with his armor on.

Why have the gods cursed me with such a cruel fate! Why must I have fallen into this brute’s hands?! Why not with the lovely High Paladin Relaki? Oh … How I wish it was her! With her perfect face! Dazzling smile! And most wonderous womanly curves she could never hide, even under full body plate armor. I wish she and I could-

While Cassius continued his fanciful dreams of High Paladin Relaki, High Paladin Zakir had not lost any steam at all. He continued to scream at the top of his lungs berating Cassius on a multitude of things and mentioning the goddess of light with every breath.

“We are less than three hours away from the greatest of darkness! The goddess of light has ordained to her most holy Prophetess that the vilest of rituals will be taking place here within the caves of Mount Sals. Be prepared to fight against the foulest and most unholy abominations; for Necromancers and their ilk exist here,” said Zakir, as passionate as ever.

“Zakir! Enough with your rambling! We have heard this a million times already. Are you trying to deafen us before the battle with your most obnoxious voice!” said a beastkin as he walked towards the two. Walking up with a black as midnight leather armor - with no designs or flares of any kind - and a scimitar on either side of his hips, dangling down almost touching the ground. He, like his armor, had black and dark purplish fur that covered his entire body. An obvious sign that he was a Pantheiol, but putting it all together and one would end up with a single person in mind. Even the most unlearned peasant knew of General Tomusir Pavei - a legend among the Alliance and representative of the Beastkin Tribes. Yet, the one thing that popped into Cassius’s mind was not of the accolades and stories told of the other man. No, it was how thankful he was that he had saved from another few hours of Zakir’s continuous ranting.

Tomusir Pavei was tall and with lean muscles, making all his movements seem like a dance rather than a simple stroll. He also had a face one would consider feminine if not for the three jagged claw marks crossing from one side to the other. It was said that many years ago he had battled a Wyvern and had somehow come out victorious, but with many injuries. Unlike all the others he had received, only one set on his face was considered impossible to remove due to its magical property. Even with the powerful backing of his clan and the best priests of Brunra the goddess of healing one could hire, that specific injury was deemed as a lost cause and a waste of time and resources to attempt to heal. The best they could have done was speed up the process of it scarring.

“Tomusir! The remembrance of the goddess of light is not rambling! Oh, goddess of light, show him the way! The only path to salvation, the way of light!” said Zakir in response, but before he could continue Tomusir interrupted him.

“I follow the way of the sword, Zakir! And right now, I could not care less about the goddess of light with your most demented shouting. Stop torturing the boy and speak normally for once,” he said with a heavy sigh. As Tomusir and Zakir were bickering, a messenger with a stoic expression came in full speed upon a horse that almost looked dead from exhaustion. With a croaky voice, he said, “General! General! The Vanguards have met heavy resistance, but completely unlike what we have prepared for”

Handing the scroll to Tomsuir, the messenger waited in perfect form - hands to the side, feet shoulder width apart and face not looking directly at the general but past him - for further commands from his superior.

“Hmm, go and rest. Eat and drink something, wash your horse and let the stables master know you need another one prepared at any second for departure to the front lines, then return. We should have finished deciding what to do by then.” said Tomusir with a confused look, while the messenger gave a sharp salute and a stomp of his foot, then proceeded to bait the exhausted horse away from them.

Having given the messenger his commands, Tomusir quickly read the scroll then turned back to the other two. With a meaningful look towards Zakir, he walked with a quick pace towards the command tent. All the other representatives and leaders within the army would need to hear this.

He pointed at a soldier standing guard around him and said “Soldier, let all Commanders know that we have information from the Vanguards. And to arrive within five minutes. No exceptions.”

“Tomusir,” Zakir’s voice was suddenly filled with a serious and solemn tone “How could they find anything other than the dead walking, given life by these necromancers?”

“I do not know, let us hope it is not as bad as it seems,” Tomusir said as they hurried towards the tent. Pushing the tent flap out of the way, a large interior came into view. Though it was enormous in size, it was packed with different tables on which lay important maps all connected to each other. But most important of them all was a map towards the center on the most orient table possible to carry with an army traveling this far. The map was of the magical variety. Made to give a 3D image of the surrounds, and all that is mapped on other maps connected to this one.

After a short wait as they sat down while the other representatives hurried to the meeting, Cassius could not stop fidgeting and squirming on his chair. He never felt like he belonged among the titans that would discuss the movements of the army. No matter their origin, they were some of the best their respective nations could provide.

The first to walk in was the shortest of them all, a dwarf. Agnar Hallbjorn was four feet three inches tall and half that wide at the shoulders. His massive frame carried dwarven steel plate that shined silver in the light everywhere he went. Like most dwarves, he had a magnificent beard that spilled out of his helm. Black with natural linings of red in between, it was braided into multiple levels, each denoting something different. But most important of them all was the single red braid in the middle of his beard. Thickest of them all, it let the world know he wasn't just a high noble from the dwarven mountain city Akruhel within the Mountain Ranges of Califs, but was one of the twelve princes vying for the throne after their father's soon to be death. He commanded seven thousand Shield and WarHammer wielders, and three thousand Axemen with the infamous Dark Steel axes. Their axes were double-bladed and had long point connecting them on the top giving them the ability to not only fight on the front line with slashing techniques but also use those points to stab, making them a spear unit as well. Together, both groups were by far the best at holding the line under massive strain.

Next came in a group of two bickering Elves and one other that seemed to have a migraine from having to listen to them both. The first two were High Elf and Wood Elf respectively, the high elf came in an astonishing high of six foot eight inches, he had golden hair with silver stripes coming down from it. Wearing a long expensive Spider Silk robe and carrying a staff taller than he was made it obvious he was a mage. Under his leadership come a most astonishing one thousand mages and two thousand Double Blade users. Unlike most common soldiers, the double blade user carried two sabers of White Levitus, giving them the ability to channel magical energy with the blade. This made them some of the most dangerous fighting forces to meet one on one.

The wood elf was much shorter than the high elf coming at a good five foot nine inches. With brown hair that was cut short. She wore a brown leather armor that matched it to protect her body and carried around a massive metal bow and a short sword for any close confrontations. Under her came in the archers unit, with six thousand soldiers carrying bows and two thousand more trained in swords to protect the archers.

Last of the Elves that walked in was a dark elf. Similar to the wood elf he was also around five feet nine inches but had a dark grey skin tone. He sported a silver cropped buzzcut and unlike the other two, he carried two short swords and a multitude of knives hidden all over his body. He commanded about seven hundred and fifty assassins and rogues specialized in assassinations and finding and disarming all various kinds of traps. Though their number was small, they were the best trained due to their affiliation with the Assassins guild on the Delific Isles. The Assassins guild was known to not hold back any resources in order to train their operatives. Their ideology was that the more skilled their assassins were, the larger the income they could bring.

After the elves came in the largest of the commanders. A Centaur named Gregorim. He was about six feet tall from hoof to where his horse like body met his more human part. Sporting a long wispy beard and a long black ponytail, he came out as a striking figure. He wore some of the heaviest armor between the group due to his incredible strength. Under his command was a heavy cavalry of three thousand soldiers and light cavalry of two thousand five hundred. Wearing full-body plate armor, and long lances, they were the most frightening forces to face in the open fields.

Last of the commanders, was by far the greatest of them. Azelverouns the Dark was a dragonkin of middling height but was by far the most capable due to his hardened scales that were said to be are stronger than steel. He also possessed uncanny speed and an unbelievably large internal mana pool at his disposal. But most important of them all was that he was considered as a Greater Noble within the draconian empire. A noble within the draconian empire is one with a strong bloodline that can be traced back to their Dragon ancestors. Due to this, they had the ability to transform into actual dragons for limited periods of time.

Unlike the nobles, a Greater noble had the bloodline of specific dragons; dragons known as the First of The Many Flames. They were five dragons that were the progenitors of the nine families. The Blue Flames, The Syvlus, The Leviathans, The Golden Dragons, and greatest of them all The Honored Ones. All but the honored ones had split into two separate families. Their lineage gave them special characteristics that made them much more powerful than their more ordinary counterparts. But of them all, the honored ones were the greatest. They were the embodiment of mana; the physical forms of the primordial dragon kings. With the ability to use the purest of mana forms, they had gained the knowledge of how to transform that pure mana into any element of their choice. Fortunately for all inhabitants of Nervanis, they were a very wise and passive race. Their only recorded action was over seven thousand years ago against a demon invasion from Hellevian; The Plains of Pain and Suffering. They had sent three representatives to battle the three Demon Lords that had appeared and they came out with an astounding victory.

Azelverouns was from the family of the golden dragons making him stand out due to his shining golden scales. The golden dragons were known for their incredible speed and fire that burns hotter than all except those of the blue flames. Under his command is two representatives of all greater noble families except the for the Honored ones, twenty-five noble dragonkin, and two hundred dragonkin of common birth - without the ability to transform into dragons.

“I ‘erd some disturbin news, Tomusir,” Said Agnar in this baritone voice .“I ‘erd the Vanguards met tough resistance in there.”

The dark elf, while all would call him Vori, none knew his real name, spoke with sarcasm “Heavy resistance? That cannot be! I did not think the necromancers would put up any defenses at all! They would just lay down and wait for the swift dagger of doom to plunge into their hearts. Then again we just brought tens of thousand soldiers just for show.”

“Hmph, you b’er listen ‘ere little boy. Tomusir, why don’t ya let ‘im know ‘ow wrong ‘e is!”

“Well, Agnar does have a legitimate concern, especially since the dwarves do hold the front lines of the vanguards. Well anyway, the concern here is not that they have put up a strong defensive front rather what they used on that front. The report came in saying that a tight passageway, fitting only seven soldiers shoulder to shoulder, was melded and reinforced with earth mana making it extremely difficult to widen. And then the tunnels and caverns came with a massive number of traps that even some of the dark elves missed a few rock slides and pit traps. But worst of it all was, in fact, the lack of undead.”

Zakir spoke with a bit of confusion and surprise tinged in his voice, “Lack of undead? Expound, please. Because I find it hard to believe there has been no undead within the caverns of those abominations.”

“Like I already said, there were no undead to speak of or so says the report. What makes me worry is the fact that they only found Stone and metal golems.” Tomusir took a pause to let his words sink in. This much unpredictability in any battle is a cause for great concern. Without knowing what your opponent will do, you open yourself to a multitude of opportunities to be completely annihilated.

“Golems?” Azelverouns finally found the discussion worthy of his dignified voice, “I have lived for thousands of years, yet I have never heard of Necromancers using golems instead of their most prized tier three undead. It is concerning, but it gives us an opportunity if they only used stone and metal golems.”

The high elf Westriu choose that moment to step in, with a high pitched voice unbecoming of him he said, “Tell us what happened to the soldiers, their lack of preparation must have caused some casualties” If one focused on his face they would notice the beads of sweat from anxiety and worry slowly dribbled down camouflaged by his light skin color. He had direct commands to bring back as many High elves alive as possible, if he failed to meet his quota he will find himself confronted with great consequences.

“Yes, tell us of the situation the vanguards are in. My archers do not do well against golems.” Agreed Melfica, the wood elf said in a husky voice. She may seem like a flower, but a snake would define her relationship abilities.

“Out of the three thousand seven hundred to enter, one thousand four hundred perished due to a well placed first ambush. They had to eliminate nine hundred golems during that attack. Thankfully Redonus the Human, commander of the vanguard salvaged the situation and somehow coordinated the forces in a pincer move within a large cavern, eliminating all nine hundred golems.”

“What!” all generals screamed at once.

Azelverouns spoke first unbelieving of the vast amount of golems only in the first large cavern. If anything this was an indication of how many defenses they had placed and how long they have been working on it. “Nine hundred? How? They must have been preparing for decades! Why have we not known of this? Should not the gathering of vast quantities of earth mana be noticeable to the elves who live so close.” His arrogance and despise towards the elves was visible to all as he spoke. He might act in proper decorum, but his grudge against the elves of all races was ever burning.

With snark, Melfica replied “What? If the high and might dragons could not sense this accumulation of mana, then how could you expect us mere elves to notice it”

As Azelverouns growled, preparing to reply to her insult, but Zakir stepped in with authority. “Enough! We need to find a solution before we are caught on defending within these caverns. We cannot allow the darkness to triumph against the light due to our bickering! No, we must come together and solve this problem.”

“I think I have a solution,” said a slow and aged voice. As everyone swiveled their heads to look at the only other commander yet to speak, Gregorim he continued to talk. “We should gather a strike force to exploit the Golems greatest weakness, their lack of speed, and strike the necromancers during their most vulnerable time; that is during their ritual. Either forcing them to delay it by canceling, giving us time to prevent it or the strike force could kill a vital member to make their attempt to summon their dark god void and null.”

Everyone found this idea to be reasonable, even more so considering they had begun to argue among themselves. “A wise idea from a wise centaur. Please explain what you mean?” said Tomusir.

“Well, in the Frodren Highlands,” Gregorim began his voice slow and steady. “We face golems every now and then; created from the gatherings of pure elemental mana. Other than their Manastones, the only weakness they have is their speed and dexterity. Unable to quickly turn to face a threat from multiple sides. Or stop a passing threat after they have been occupied by our forces. We should use this by creating a distraction. Made to simply grab the attention of the golems, while the assigned strike force continues towards the necromancers’ ritual. Unfortunately, my soldiers cannot complete this task due to their sheer size, but we can help with creating a distraction for the strike force.”

As Gergorim finished speaking, the elves gathered together and began whispering to each other. Agnar was rubbing his beard; deep in thought. Azelverouns began communicating telepathically to his subordinates, while Zakir and Tomusir started to discuss what they could provide.

Zakir started, he had full authority over the forces provided under his command. “I can bring to the table one hundred paladins and twenty priests. Though they might not be the strongest since I will choose those who have chosen to focus on their speed rather than their strength.”

“That is well, though I suggest not sending priests because they are infamously known for their lack of stamina and the fact that they will not stop to set up a defensive line will prevent them from taking advantage of the priests’ abilities. I will send with the strike force seventy-five Wolfkin and thirty Merwins,” said Tomusir, his offer was one that would be greatly appreciated in any battle no matter the size.

The Merwin clan was made up of a few different families of the Catkin people. The most famous of them are the Lionesses. They were known as some of the strongest and fastest beastkin that had ever picked up a sword.

“Ah, so the Merwin finally enter the fray” Exclaimed Gergeorim with raised eyebrows and a small smile. As Tomusir was about to reply, the elves finally finished their long private discussion and came to a decision.

The high elf, Westriu, answered the unasked question by stating, “We have decided to send one hundred Dark Elf rogues, one hundred Wood Elf archers, and one hundred High Elf double sword wielders. We cannot send any mages due to the emphasis on speed and stamina; which we certainly lack.”

“I ‘ave decided to send ‘undred Axemen. That ‘s all. Hopefully, their sacrifice is not in vain.” As Agnar finished speaking with his eyes half-closed and head lowered in respect for the souls that were about to sacrifice themselves for the rest of humanity, all commanders turned to look towards Azelerouns knowing that he can provide the strongest soldiers.

Under the collective stare, Azelerouns finally opened his eyes, taking a deep and shaky breath - one that caused much speculation among the others - he said, “We have decided to send two golden dragons, two Syvlus, and five dragonkin. Make sure their lives are spent well.”

Tomusir seeing that he could not get any more soldiers out of this for the mission came to his final point. They needed to choose a commander to lead this expedition.

“Thank you, their lives will not be lost in vain. All we need to do is choose someone to lead them throughout this mission. Someone who knows what the plan is as much as we do. Someone who is known for his abilities.” As the silence continued and everyone coming up with candidates, with unnatural synchronicity, they all turned to look at the only person in the tent that was not a commander. The only person who knew the plan as well as they all do and was lauded for his abilities.

“Hmm,” Cassius exclaimed, as he continued to think of viable commanders. Of course, the first person to come to his mind was High Paladin Relaki, but then again this was a suicide mission. So he chose to suggest someone else, but the longer the silence continued he felt an uneasy feeling cascade down his back giving him shivers. When he looked up, he found that everyone had suddenly turned to stare at him. “Uh, why is everyone looking at me. Wait, No, no, no! Not me. I can’t lead the strike force. I am not a good candidate at all. Haha, you guys cannot be serious.”

“Make us proud Cassius, I know I had chosen you as my attendant because of your great aptitude! Falter not!” screamed Zakir in Cassius’s ear while slamming his gauntleted hands on his back.

“’e is a good choice,” remarked Agnar, nodding his head like the other commanders.

“Agreed,” All the other commanders voiced. Their decision made final.

“Well, then it’s decided! Cassius, we are giving you the great honor of leading this expedition into Mount Wilanro. Towards the Necromancers’ ritual to either delay them or completely derail their plans for Nervanis,” said Tomusir in a voice Cassius could not argue with. His decision was final, and it would stand.

Turning pale Cassius could only think of one thing the entire time.

No! Not me! This is a suicide mission! I- I can’t! I am still a virgin!