As the skirmishing force from both sides begin to strike it is the undead side that eventually prevail. Bare bones care less for arrows many of which glance while leaving a gash in the bone. Some strike home destroying the spine or removing arms and skulls but such losses do not enter the minds of the overseers. Return fire hits more heavily as flesh is broken or numbed by various projectiles ranging from arrows to javelins.. However this fire is not as devastating as even while bones are not as easily damaged they are not as strong as flesh . Eventually a retreat is called as the levy’s morale is broken. With this the knights press forward to rout the enemy while they are concentrated on the skirmishers.

With banners held high, war bugles blown and lances at the ready a tide of wood, horse flesh and steel advance to crush bone to dust. Fire is slowly redirected but it is even less effective against the armour of the enemy. However even as the knights and horses scream their own cries to mix into the sound of breaking bone and clash of metal a change occurs.

Clouds of black fog descend on them and with their momentum lost through sheer quantity of undead, they are truly caught and weakened as strength is sapped away. Before they can ride away from the fog caught as they are in the mass of undead skirmishers a new foe emerges. Previously undetected in hidden parts of the land the boneclaws and dire packs strike. Horses are dragged down weakened by the cloud and their throats torn by fang while the riders face sharp claws slashing down. While the heavy armour resists many strikes others strike in gaps and blood spurts outward as flesh is hewn.

Cries of fear and outrage add to the mix as the infantry rush forward to save their lords only to face another rain of projectiles. The undead skirmishers make themselves known once more as those intact let fly their arms. While much less numerous of a barrage the charge is slowed in places and it is an uneven charge that is launched.It is this that the undead take advantage of.

Hoofs strike in the earth and arrows are loosed with deadly consequence as the bow cavalry sing their deadly song. Arrows arch through the air while undead horsemen ride in a circular formation, their imprint dictates a whirlwind of death. Without the advantage of a solid wall of wood and metal arrows strike at will, many fall not dead but unable to fight effectively for this battle. Regardless they are stirred forward by worried lords hurrying to the aid of their comrades. Fallen or injured knights are dragged under cover of shields to be taken back. Here the mages and priests get to work to aid their comrades with either healing the injured or pouring arcane and holy might at the enemy in vengeance. Bone burns whether by fire or holy light and the acrid stench rises and is stirred by the wind.

Undead horses are struck by thrown rock or wind and collapse to pieces their riders soon to suffer a similar fate as their sounds add to the chaos. While many knights are injured few have died, almost 3/4 of their number remain but much was lost in the retreat. It is the poor levy who lays fallen in the cursed earth, his soul gone from his body or worse trapped and festering in hate at those who killed them or those who pushed them to death. The dead do not like to stay still in this land but for now they lay unmoving freshly slain. As boneclaw and dire wolf throw themselves at the enemy with silent roar to give no true rest. While a pile of horse flesh marks the forward point of ground behind them many levy were slain as well. It is on this space that footman strike footman.

Here truly the living dominate for even with the strengthened bodies of the undead they do not have the numbers to fight and now the hardened mercenaries and adventurers thrive. What can the poor levy with a spear do against an undead who cannot be stopped by the driven metal point, here silvered sword and mace burn or shatter bone. Here mages and clerics continue as well striking the enemy with impunity as they are almost helpless to fight and bone scatters. Soon however more undead strike out from the gaps in formation allowing more to advance in charging groups to fall upon the living. The line ebbs and flows but ultimately it is the undead who are thrown back, bone does not do well in such contests of brute strength.

However once more streams of dark fog flow over the living, sapping muscles already tired from battle and sustaining the undead as the air seeths unnaturally. Bones once shattered flow roughly and reconnect, fingers once again dig for weapons or simply tear into flesh of the unsuspecting who do not see the movement behind or beneath them. Dead Knights stride the land gathering more to them as their will calls those who have fallen to rise and strike the unprepared in flanking attacks. T

he living falter for a time worn from battle while more undead claw their way from their fallen positions to rip and tear while their hearts are seized by the fear of the dark. What should not move stirs yet and muscles seem filled with the coldest lead. It is now that terror of facing the still draining blood of your comrade brings more terror to the levy as screams of fright and despair rise even louder. Even the associate mercenaries and adventurers who should be more hardened to this act tremble. Over head cleansing light and magic sweeps the field forcing back the dead knights, At the same time bones are cleansed and pause from rising once more as the freshly risen return to the earth.

Some still remain and the living battle onward. Arms are slashed while ribs break inward, head turned where they should not and legs are crushed into paste. Suddenly however a strange quiet is on the field. As the last bone clatters onto the ground no more undead dwell in sight. Where are the large armoured forms striding at the back of their lesser compatriots and the weavers of flowing miasma who sapped the strength and courage of the living?. Both are not in sight their chorus empty. They are suddenly gone and not a sign lay of them either walking or fallen on the earth and the still air mocks those still alive.

Where were the architects of despair and pain that forced so many to never breath once more? Banners no longer flap in the wind where they lay, stabbed in the earth from where their bearers lay fallen. Once more cries ring out from those trying to gather their flock or see fallen comrades amidst the soaked earth. Many are touched in one way or another never to be the same again. As they tramp the earth in the aftermath of bloodshed fewer and quieter than before when they stood arrayed and proud of their cause. The first ensemble ends off their music now, descending to only the lonely or rather not lonely cries of wounded horse and human.

________

It is now that those who watched from afar gathered around a reflecting pool where the sight of the battle had always been seen. Dark garbed figures shuffle and check scrolls and notes of the affairs that occurred and must be tallied. Here one dressed in fully concealing robes and face covered such that nothing can be seen asks “How long till our army arrives to strike?”.

One figure raises their head from making marks on his parchment and replies, a male voice speaking “In a week my lord, they move without pause and soon will cover the new distance between us and our old location. The defensive holds where we once had our old base before shifting now add new forces to their reserves. They will have gathered a large enough host to check their advance and weaken them again if we desire, or strike with the hammer we have moving to position now”

“Let us give them hope, gather them and when the enemy lays siege to what they believe was the old castle. When they are triumphant over the pawns then will the queen move to checkmate. Ensure that nothing prevents us from such an act” A cold voice gives forth orders to ensure that none will survive the month, victory is presumed assured and none can see anything that would cause this to be disputed for the hills have eyes and the air itself carries voice to that which was once flesh and blood but no longer can be touched.

Empty eyes watch and translucent ears listen, even the paltry defenses cannot hold against those that watch from afar. A fact that will be exploited to whatever ends can be done, for whoever said that war is fair across its very long lineage. Impassioned hands move to record the dead, or perhaps too passionate hands record eager to lay them upon those freshly fallen to work their twisted arts. Others marshall forces who move as one to pre-planned areas ready as the spider in it’s web.

Unseen and unheard to the rest of the group a small mutter comes from their high lord.

“If overcomplicated plan 1 fails, plan 2 is swamp them with numbers. Plan 3 is next set of complicated plans. Plan 4 is the next backup plan if anything too detailed fails. They will find that they prefer a quiet death at the hands of my minions”

Author’s Note

Casualty count Crusade army(Rounded)

Note-Casualty does not equal dead

-60 knights

-140 adventurers/mercenaries

-1400 levy(poor bastards)

Survivors-2600 (60% survival rate)

Destruction count Undead

Infantry and Auxiliary(boneclaws/dire wolves)-Complete Wipe

Elite Command/Mage-None

Bow Calvary-50

Total Destroyed-3920

Units cared about surviving-all elites, half the bow cavalry(62% survival rate)

Reserve /remaining undead forces

-400 Infantry

-50 bow cavalry

-30 command units