HPDBC Chapter 416 What They Are
Chapter 416 What They Are
Another day had ended, another one had just begun, and Derdlim Maulerd came face to face, with a putrid horse first thing in the morning, a beast unlike those of the south, enormous and tall, its maw more like that of a rabid dog than an equid, its mane long and ragged, yet seemingly well-kempt nonetheless, this was no regular undead mount, and as such, its rider was no regular undead soldier as well.
The south had been leading a lengthy conflict against the undeads for a long time now, the undeads attacked the wall, always and retreated after just a little bit of damage was done, the soldiers mended the destruction and defended ferociously, Alisart attempted to find excuses to install truces multiple time, but the left hand had not budged, the current state of affairs was already good for the living, all knew it.
So for multiple months, the other regions had been without conflict, the undeads had never even seemed to search for them, and had never sought to declare battle.
The warqueen's face contorted into a snarl, there were not many reasons for an undead to show at her cave entrance, this particular cavalryman carried a rather gigantic spear, the sort that were really only to be in use when on horseback, and not much at all when on foot.
Unlike his dark destrier, the rider wore a pale grey set of armour, and setting him apart from the Loimoisian knights, was his open helm, revealing a not-so decomposed face, rather bloated, as though he had decayed from the inside out, leading to gases remaining stuck within, which made for a sight no less revolting that his fellow undeads.@@@@
"Derdlim Maulerd!
As per the authority of the general, Horhir, Right Hand Of Loimos, declares for a battle to start in three days, and three nights, at the first light of morning, to go on unto its end, or unto eternity, any demand for a temporary truce will have to be made to the right hand himself" using the word loud to describe this undead would be a vast understatement, even though, as a corpse, speaking the pale tongue or death tongue did not require the usage of any physical means, he still managed to sound like his vocal cords were on the verge of rupturing, this guy wasn't even looking at Maulerd specifically, just screaming at the mountains themselves.
"Sir Loimos knows to extend death's compassion and kindness, surrendering is not a sign of weakness, but one of enlightenment, there is no strength in fighting a lost battle, but there is wisdom in agreeing to ascend to a higher form of existence" calming down as simply as it was to flip a switch, he added these few words in a normal tone before galloping away on his horse, quickly disappearing into the mountains.
"Go and check on what the undeads are doing, now!"
"Gartran, prepare our warriors, let's show those foul fuckers what we are made of, this is the east, we'll make them regret thinking that they can challenge us" the messenger's words might hold som truth, but whether a battle was lost or won was completely unknown until its conclusion, the others feared butting heads with the undeads head-on, which allowed the enemy to just do whatever they wanted.
If the dead allowed for a situation that was advantageous, then it had to be a lie, they would not give any advantage, they, the livings just did not see beyond the surface, the right and left hand were up to some shady businesses, but they still had to abide by certain rules, no matter how messed up Loimos's idea of the agreements may be, some did not leave room for any pedantics.
Beckoning Gartran to listen closely, the red-headed, giant of a woman explained something.
"They don't have any rights to attack non-combatants, and won't destroy senselessly, as such, we'll leave all of those who can't fight here on their own, no need to actually defend them, whilst all of our forces go to graze their camp" grabbing the troll-like man by the head, he reeled as the words were not spoken normally, indeed, as brutish as she might appear, Derdlim had not actually been born into the mountains, she had been part of those who had migrated here from elsewhere, she had adapted, seized power for herself, and maintained it ever since.
Derdlim Maulerd was an intelligent, and wise savage, so she had developed a little, simple language in case something needed to be kept under wraps, teaching it to Gartran had not been simple as his consumption of trolls had made him a little bit too much like them, but he had learned eventually, tapping on his head to pass the message, he eventually nodded and went away to gather the warriors around.
As well as prepare feasts and meals, the warqueen made it sound like a given, but this battle would absolutely not be easy, the south's organised troops had failed to properly take apart a simple formation from the undead, and they were going to launch an attack on the camp itself, all of the undeads would be fighting, including the rider, an undead of distinguished power, enough to be called a champion of the vanguard by Loimos.
Maulerd only salivated, the stronger, the rarer the flesh, the more delicious it would be.