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Azriel lay crumpled on the floor, trapped in his own tortured memories. The scream had awakened a force within him that even he had not foresaw.

"Why... didn't they kill me?"

Azriel tried to stand upright, but his frail body wouldn't allow it. He tried to gather moisture from his surroundings, but he only tasted the iron of Fallen blood. He choked and gasped, choked on the dusty air around him. His vision started to blur...

"The shadows around me exhibit no mercy, only grab and take and leave a carcass."

He looked up and saw Ja'quar walking in the street. He tried to call, but his throat was coarse and even the mere muttering of the phrase required great determination. He then saw Ja'quar kneel down before a Fallen shaman with utmost concentration.

The echoes of the preceding battle rang in Azriel's head. They grew louder and louder and migraines set it. Azriel groaned in agony.

"Ja'quar!"

Azriel began to feel more feeble than ever. His hands started to shake along with his shoulders, and while the taste of Fallen blood had gone away, he began to taste the iron of his own blood. He looked up and saw the Fallen shaman stand, a reanimated form.

"Ja'quar!"

The yell cut croakily through the air, shredding the thrill Ja'quar felt from his newest creation. He stood up, looked around and saw the body of Azriel a couple of yards away. The man needed help and being one of his companions he was obliged to provide him that, even if he was just a raging lunatic.

As Ja'quar approached the fallen man, he saw that he was in bad shape. it only took one brief glance of his face to see the scaly lips and dry skin. "What happened with you?" Ja'quar asked, "Never mind, we first need to patch you up."

He mentally instructed his new pet to open the nearest door. As he heard a crash he remembered that deep inside the minion still was a fallen; to him 'open' was pretty much the same as 'break down'. In any case it would be safe there.

"Come on, let's get you inside. There's bound to be water there." said Ja'quar as he helped Azriel get up. But as he touched the man, he felt a curious sensation in his body. All the blood seemed to start to flow towards the point where they touched, which ironically were the wounds he had acquired in the duel.

Trying to uplift the man's spirits Ja'quar said, "You're like a walking dowsing rod." He then made way towards the house where his minion was gathering all the water he could find.

Jerfuth stood next to his allies as the doors to Olenta were swung open. The Fallen had claimed this town as their's and feasted on the mangled corpses of the villagers. The Fallen charged at the group as they quickly made way throughtout the town, killing Fallen at any point available. Jerfuth had shifted into a bear and mauled down waves of Fallen, taking slashes and jabs from the little demon's blades. Cudgels and maces struck the thick muscular body, leaving open wounds which blood spewed from. Jerfuth finally broke away from another stampeding pack of Fallen long enough to run. He shift back to his human figure and walked into a destroy house that was still ablaze.

He sat down with his back leaning against the wall trying to catch his breath. He lifted his right arm using his left arm coming to the realization that the bone was broken. Slashes and stab wounds cover his torso and his back as blood poured from them. The house burned more and more as flamed poured from the upstairs. Jerfuth looked up as the flames creeped down the stairs and along the wall before engulfing both. I cannot stay here and die. I need to get help, Jerfuth thought as he began to stand, I need to get back to the cart, back to my allies.

"Ugh," Jerfuth moaned returning to his feet, he slowly stumbled his way out of the house back toward his allies who were still fighting off the Fallen as the house bacame totally devoured by the flames, "There's so many. We can't win"

Jerfuth took the form of a hawk and tried to fly back to the cart, but he did not make it long in the air. He flew a couple yard and came crashing back down to the ground at the feet of the others. His body shifted back to his human form as he lay unconcious on the ground slowly dying.

"Worthless magics." Wulfgar scoffed as Jerfuth fell to the ground. "Nothing beats the knowledge of steel."

"Come then now Fallen ones! Death comes for you! Feel it's icy breath!"

Wulfgar stood tall and steadfast,with an axe in each hand, spouting all manners of barbaric war cries.

In her dreams she heard the sounds of battle. She saw what was coming and needed to wake to alarm his companions.
She woke up and realised she was still on the horse. A battle had erupted around her, they needed her help.

Besides her was Vaker, protecting her. She crossed a look of gratitude to her partner and quickly dismounted from her horse. She said: "Come Vaker, we have to help our companion, cover me." She looked up and a saw a hawk falling rapidly from the sky.
The Fallen surrounded them. At that moment she knew she must use her power, though she was still weak.
Her eyes began to shine. The time had slowed its march. She ran quickly to where the druid was laying, to help him.

Moments later, while the druid was still lying on the floor, she exclaimed: "In the Church we will find something we're looking for, but there is a great danger ahead. I had warned you. We must organize and save energy. Our lives depend on it"

Dagon heard more howls and clashing blades from one of the alleyways, noting it was the one that Ja'quar has picked out.

Still working his magic he thought to himself, grinning.

He saw Jerfuth enter a house, Seddrick in tow. Seddrick yelled from the house, Dagon could not make out his cry. He rushed in, wondering what has befallen the pair. He saw Jerfuth bloodied and slumped against a wall, Seddrick trying desperately to lift the druid.

"Please, help me. We need to take Jerfuth to the church!"
Dagon nodded at Seddrick, as he made to pick up the druid.
Dagon slung one of his arms around him, and heaved upwards.

Walking outside, he yelled to the rest of his companions.

"We need to fall back to the church, get the soldiers to cover us!" he yelled, as he and the rest of the group ran for the church.

As they approached, he noticed the doors were closed shut, and a light flickered inside. He went to open them, but they were barred from the inside.

Survivors he thought to himself.

"LET US IN, WE NEED IN!!!" he yelled at the massive oak doors, praying somebody would open them.

Vaker was next to the witch, the Fallen continued to attak, with a furious look in his eyes, they were not satisfied with the bodies of the inhabitants of Olenta, Their rage was still intact.

Lightning and fireballs kept coming out of his hands, Vaker was tired and his companions had went away, pursuing different groups of demons.

He felt that his forces were leaving him, but now the witch got up, "Come Vaker, we have to help our companion, cover me." she said.

It seemed that time itself had no will continue its march, the witch ran to a group of demons that were approaching a body that Vaker could not immediately recognize, the person was covered with blood and wounds.

The road was long but it took a great deal of energy out of the wizard, the slowness of time helped a lot, but the amount of demons was overwhelming.

When they got to where the body was, Vakero saw that it was the druid, the Fallen came, the witch spoke in words that came from the future and foresee more difficulties ... Vaker couldn't stand the tension and his powers exploded in a burst of electricity that eliminated many of the demons that surrounded them...

Seddrik apprached at the time, he cast a spell that healed the wounds of Jerfuth, and called the barbarian to help them open their way to the church, "I'll help too, as much as I can" Vaker said, exhausted...

Dagon bashed on the doors for what seemed an eternity, the soldiers held back the waves of fallen as he and his battered comrades crowded near the doors.

Then, salvation. A lone monk threw open the doors and beckoned them inside.

"Everyone in the church!" Dagon bellowed, signaling that they were to rest within the church, and salvage some kind of plan to make this mission a success. He had the soldiers hold the line as his other comrades rushed inside, once they were within the walls of the church, the soldiers rushed in, and closed shut the oaken doors. Only two remained outside, they were probably planning something.

"Thank y-" Dagons was rendered speechless at the scene within the church. Countless survivors, all dead. Their bodies decayed by poisons, time, and the strains of war. The monk was the only man left, standing within these ruins.

"I'm... so sorry." Dagon said to the man, offering whatever condolences he could.

"I know it may be rather... disrespectful to ask you such a thing at such a time, but, as the only local we've found, we need your help. We were on a mission to come liberate the town, but, as it seems, we are too late. We need to get to the keep of the castle to find the lord of this town, or what remains of him. Can you help us?" Dagon asked the monk, praying he was still able to fight for his town.

"Everyone in the church!" Borin heard Dagon yell. Unknowing what was in the church, he looked around to see the hordes of continuing Fallen still approaching.

It can't be any worse in there Borin thought. He quickly ran inside only to be met by the stench of rotting corpses. The pungent smell ripped right through Borin's face covering and hit his nose worse than any Fallen had managed to do yet.

Borin scouted the church to find only one man still standing in the midst of the carnage. A monk who seemed slightly unphased by the gruesome scene that lay before him. Borin noticed Dagon quickly introduce himself and try to get a handle of the situation.

He looked back at the door as he heard the Fallen pounding their bodies against it, still trying to slain what little life this town had to offer.

We need to get to the keep of the castle to find the lord of this town He once again over heard Dagon asking. Dagon was always one for a plan, even in a situation where all hope seems lost.

"I hope you know some other way out of here Monk" Borin yelled back to them. "I do not think the front door will be an option. Borin had made his way up to the higher windows and peered out as he saw a growing pile of red flesh amassing around the church.

After a few minutes of remedial healing, Azriel was feeling well enough to walk again. He stood up and looked at his surroundings, then he heard a call in the distance.

"Everyone in the church!" Azriel looked for the church; it was 1/4 of a mile from where he was standing. As he made his pursuit, we turned around and looked at Ja'Quar.

"Thank you, friend. Repayment will be made in due time, but we should hurry to the church."

Azriel started walking towards the church, but not before he saw a wave of fallen swarming up to it. Alarmed, he started to walk more slowly, finding shadows to sulk in as he got to a safe location that he could cast his spell. He saw a fallen wandering in the street...

... the fallen started choking and grasping for air. Blood spurted from it's mouth, and pure terror left it's eyes. After a few seconds, it buckled on the floor and convulsed.

"Can you help us?" Jerfuth heard a voice say.

Dagon, he thought, its Dagon.

Everything was hazing, his eyes were still shut and only the sounds of what was around him made their way into his head. He heard Dagon, but suddenly the chatter between everyone had forced its way into his head. It all seemed to be a bunch of chaos to him as he could not tell any voice from another. Then the smell invaded his nose and his eyes opened.

What is that smell!? It's terrible. But a roof, he thought, we're inside somewhere. Someone has brought me here. I hope we're save, he continued to think while everything came into perspective. He rubbed his tired eyes and sat up, realizing that whoever had brought him here, had left him on corpse. He quickly scurried off the corpse and looked around the room. Everything seemed to be fine, but one thing. A monk stood before them.

"I'm Jerfuth, Druid of the Singram Tribe," Jerfuth said standing up and attempting to walk toward the monk with his hand outstretched, but he stumbled and caught himself on the nearby wall, "Guess that'll happen with a loss of consciousness. Anyway, I'm Jerfuth," he tried again without attempting to shake hands he leaned against the wall, rubbing his head in pain.

"Thank you, friend. Repayment will be made in due time, but we should hurry to the church."

Ja'quar looked around and saw it looming not too far away. "You're welcome, but we should indeed hurry. We don't want to keep them waiting."

They hurried down the street towards the church but as they moved closer, Ja'quar saw the square getting redder by the second. It was as if floodgates had breached and red, demonic beasts flooded the the plaza, only stopping when reaching the stone shelter.

They slowed their pace, knowing that rushing into that mass would be suicide. Even the shaman, who had once been among that horde, saw their chance of success being slim. They should not search their battles, but their battle should come to them.

Azriel seemed like-minded, as the three of them sought out the dark alleys for protection. Yet it seemed the madman wasn't as useless as Ja'quar thought he was. Casting a spell causing a fallen to choke to his death, Azriel quickly changed from an old fool into a grim mage.

The shaman walked towards the fallen, carefully placing its body in the shadows. Ja'quar said to Azriel, "you certainly seem to enjoy yourself." He then signalled for the shaman ,"we're going to set up some traps. Dagon and the rest can't stay inside forever and when they come out I hope they'll see our preparations."

He heaved bodies onto the street, creating some sort of macabre V pointing away from the Church's plaza. "Too bad I can't make them shout surprise."

"You certainly seem to enjoy yourself."

Azriel chuckled to himself. He learned that spell in his second year. "We're going to set up some traps. Dagon and the rest can't stay inside forever and when they come out I hope they'll see our preparations."

Ja'Quar started moving bodies into the street. Azriel started do the same. After a while, the two of them had made a V-shape. Azriel was intrigued.

"We're leading them to something, but what are we leading them to?"

"We're leading them to something, but what are we leading them to?"

Ja'quar smiled.

"Think of it as a powerful jaw. The enemy gets funnelled into this shape, where it's easier for us to strike them then for them to hit us. We slaughter them from both sides and devour them whole."

He sighed deeply.

"But, it's going to be hard to control them. Maintaining the separation from life and death is tasking, especially when swords and axes are slicing their way through it." He looked to the little shaman. "Except when they're a bit magical themselves."

Azriel took in Ja'Quar's words like prophetic readings and grew anxious as he awaited imminent bloodshed. The very idea of traps made him very excited, the sight of blood itself brought solace to him. Frequent accounts of goosebumps overtook him as he kept moving bodies to the shape.

"When will we head to the church then?"

The amount of bodies slowly increased, forming a small wall as a secondary protection against the oncoming horde.

"When will we head to the church then?"

Azriel was eager to strike, but Ja'quar was hesitant. He reached for his scarred hand and thought, "the last time I blindly ran into the fray it nearly cost me my life."

He stepped back to look at the church. Beside from the crowd he also saw a small tower rising near the church's walls. As some sort of demonic mold the fallen climbed on top of each other to reach the stained windows. "The fallen seem to have found their safehouse's weak spot: the windows," Ja'quar said curiously, "that'll might cause the doors to open. I'll have to prepare some of the bodies before we leave, though. When we get back I want to be prepared."

He slipped into his trance-like state and found it pleasantly surprising that it seemed to be less taxing than before. It didn't take long before seven bodies had regained consciousness.
"This'll do. Now to lure the prey..."

The door to the church flung open and almost instantly the stench of death overcame Drangar. He looked throughout the church to see decomposing bodies lying on virtually every inch of the floor. The church was clearly effected by the invasion, there were holes in the walls, the only thing keeping the doors from being knocked over were 4 pieces of decomposing wood. He quickly found his brother amidst the crowed and made his way towards him. Next to him he saw a tall white man with hair down past his ears.

We need to get to the keep of the castle to find the lord of this town, or what remains of him. Can you help us?"

He put his hand on his brothers shoulder "Please... Any help would greatly be appreciated and Hell, if we live through this I will buy you an ale." Drangar said as he gave the man a charming smile.

"There is no time for this idle chit chat" Borin yelled out to the others. Borin continued to look out the window as he saw other members of their group disbursing the mass of demons in front of the church.

"We should move now!"