The Lord of Necromancers, part 1
9 units each made up of 10 skeleton warriors; the units possessed a closed phalanx formation using the square shields that each skeleton warrior possessed.
Behind the phalanx of Skeleton Warriors were 2 Skeleton Archer formations, each formation consisted of two columns of 5 Skeleton Archers each.
On each of the flanks of the formation were 5 skeletal horsemen, which mounted on skeleton steeds, each of these skeletal horsemen were only armed with large pikes.
In the rear, just behind the skeleton archers, 5 armored figures stood out from the rest of the undead.
4 Wight Knights and 1 Wight Knight Champion; the armor worn by the Wight Knights was similar in appearance and style to that worn by the Wight Knights who attacked the farm; And as was easy to guess, they were just as strong.
90 Skeleton Warriors, 20 Skeleton Archers, 10 Skeleton Horsemen, 4 Wight Knights, and 1 Wight Knight Champion; as a whole it was a fighting force to take into account, it might seem little, but the amount of offensive power was remarkable.
Although comparatively, skeleton warriors possessed abilities similar to those of a trained human, their innate qualities as an undead made them superior to any basic troop type.
Possibly the effectiveness of an army of the Undead can possibly only be achieved by an army made up of Constructs.
Generally when one imagines an undead attack, the normal thing is to think that it will be a disorganized and chaotic attack; but here was a regiment of the undead that emanated notorious military discipline.
"We are lost"
"I don't want to die"
"Impossible, impossible"
"May the gods protect us"
Words like that were whispered by the villagers upon seeing the undead formations that stood before them.
Their pale faces and blank stares reflected the fear that was beginning to emerge.
As the villagers trembled in fear, the sound of heavy footsteps hitting the ground and shields being struck by swords filled the atmosphere.
The peaceful silence of the current of the river was replaced by the tactic of intimidation of the attackers.
Chaos and despair arose in the villagers.
On the other hand, Zark was totally calm, next to one of the houses he was looking askance at the formation of the undead.
While the villagers desperately tried to pack the things they needed, in the face of helplessness their only alternative was to flee.
"Human nature," Zark whispered.
No matter how much humanity declares itself to be civilized beings, that is a mere facade of reality; when they are invaded by fear, when the end is inevitable, when they succumb to despair and when death draws near, humans fall to their lowest and most basic instincts.
As fierce as animals and as wild as beasts; That is the truth of the human.
Zark watched as the villagers ransacked the houses of their own neighbors in search of anything that was useful to them.
As adults they beat children and as children they took advantage of the elderly.
In desperation, they were unable to see that whatever they did would be useless.
Anyone knowledgeable on the subject, he would know there was something wrong with that undead army.
Examining each unit, Zark was looking for something specific, he was looking for the Necromancer.
He doubted that the necromancer possessed high Stealth abilities, the most likely option being that he was using invisibility or some other type of illusionary spell.
Unit by unit, Zark used his passive True Vision to automatically cut through any illusions or disturbances of reality that existed.
There was nothing.
The fact of not having found the Necromancer among the ranks of the army made the whole situation even more suspicious.
If the army did not attack, and the necromancer was not in the main body, it meant that ...
"It's a trap ..." Zark deduced.
Looking around him, he saw the villagers preparing to take the path down the valley.
"Surrounded ..."
Cleverly, the necromancer intentionally mobilized a portion of his troops onto the path that descended to intercept any villagers attempting to escape.
The valley between the mountains where they had built the village, was actually a well of death difficult to defend.
Without walls or any other type of fortification, it was practically impossible to carry out a siege battle, although against the undead a battle of attrition is a bad idea, at least with the right defensive structures there was a chance to prevail.
The necromancer who was in command was not a simple necromancer, he knew what he was doing.
Positioning himself on the only escape route, displaying the main body of the army as a show of power, at the same time that he used demoralization tactics to break the fighting spirit of the villagers.
Staring in the direction he believed the Necromancer should be facing, he activated "[Extend Spell: Detect Magic]."
As expected, there was, the aura of magical power betrayed his presence, the intense purple denoting his specialization in necromancy.
The situation was perfect.
As he thought about the plan discussed with Keil the night before, he felt something grab his arm, it was Ingrid.
"Is something wrong father?".
Zark smiled at the tender young woman as he placed her hand on her head.
Looking at Keil and Nyos who were nearby, he pronounced.
"The time has come; Keil, Nyos, follow me; Ingrid, it's time to shine. "
♦ ♦ ♦
As the villagers headed towards the path that descended from the valley, the crowd suddenly stopped.
On the way there were 8 Machiavellian figures.
Six of them were equipped with old chain mail armor, metal shields and ancient swords, they were Wight Knights.
On the other hand the other two figures were unique.
One of them was a sturdy, burly figure six feet tall; She was equipped with a plate armor that was in perfect condition, in the sections between plates it was possible to see a silver chainmail, from the back of her belt a chainmail half skirt extended.
Falling from his men was an exquisite white cape with flame-like fiery red accents.
The wasteland above his head had a design similar to a Barbuta helmet, on the sides of the helmet a pair of metallic wings similar to those of a bird of prey extended.
In his hands was a prominent long sword which released dangerous red flames from its edge that possessed a magical glow.
On the other hand, the figure that was next to the armored being, had a scrawny build.
He wore a simple black tunic without any prominent details, the skin on his face was worn and haggard; what little hair he still possessed on his head was a dull gray color.
The only thing that stood out from the black-robed figure was the staff that was between his hideous fingers.
It had the appearance of bones joined in the shape of a staff, it had the texture of ivory along with a strikingly white color; the upper part of the cane possessed two unit bovine heads.
The armored being's empty eyes, along with his skin which had a slightly blue hue, identified him as a Wight King; on the other hand, the scrawny black-robed figure that was surrounded by an aura of dark power, it was easily possible to identify it as a necromancer.
As the villagers trembled in fear, the necromancer laughed wickedly.
But the Necromancer's laugh did not last long, as three strange figures faced him.
♦ ♦ ♦
In the meadow between him and the villagers, there were three figures.
Francis Kemmler, one of the Ten Necromancer Masters of the Mortuary Cult and part of the Great Council, watched those three people closely.
One of them wore a priestly robe similar in style to that worn by the Great Hierophant of the Triumvirate in the Theocracy or by the Supreme Pontiff of the Republic. His long white robe with gold details looked quite expensive and gave the wearer an ecclesiastical air.
It was impossible that it was the Great Hierophant or the Supreme Pontiff; so at first glance Francis Kemmler thought he was one of the six cardinals of the Republic or one of the three patriarchs of the Theocracy.
One of the priest figure's companions wore white-colored full-body plate armor. The armor also seemed to be truly extraordinary, surely it was not something cheap or a common item. Its mere presence hinted that it was a high-level magical item, possibly even a national treasure.
On the other hand, the last person accompanying the priestly figure wore high-quality clothing of a style and design that he was unable to recognize; Although his skin was abnormally gray, his long, pointed ears gave him away as an elf.
As he stared at the three figures, the possible identity of those before him came to mind.
The Republic Cardinal of Light, a Paladin possibly hailing from the temple of Radiantus the god of Light, and the last figure possibly being a Silvan elf slave, was common, considering the Republic was at war with the wood elves of the Forest north of the republic.
He had to be on guard, as the Cardinal of Light was known to be capable of level 5 magic.
Francis ordered the Wight Knights to stay alert, telling them to keep some distance around him to protect him.