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The Alenia Scrolls

AuthorThe Alenia Scrolls
Hey everyone, this is my first story idea, so I will need a lot of comments. Either post in forum or pm me either is fine. This story is about an event involving the knight, wizard and necro factions.

I'll be posting the first section and see how it goes. Enjoy :)
The Alenia Scrolls

Alenian knights have depended on cold, hard steel and their iron discipline to battle for centuries. They do not dabble in magic, otherwise known as heresy, and relations with the wizards of Sarchelm are at best, mutual dislike.

These two factions seldom meet either as allies, due to strained ties, or enemies, as both knew that they would most likely annihilate each other. Except for once in the distant past, three hundred odd years ago, when magic resistant barbarian hordes threaten the existence of wizards, the Alenian king, who would rather have magical but peaceful neighbours than green coloured bloodlusty ones, led the armies of Alenia to aid Sarchelm.

With hastily made soldiers of stone, gargoyles and golems, and physical magic which the barbarians were still susceptible to, they repelled the barbarians. Alenia sustained heavy losses and the wizards did not attack the weakened faction out of gratitude and conscience. They were so thankful that the Grand Weaver enchanted the king's hunting eagle and lion to create a mysterious creature called Griffin. The bizarre creature was found to be an excellent fighter, with the speed of an eagle, strength and tenacity of a lion, and the King sent another eagle and lion to be enchanted. The Grand Weaver obliged, and thus, the two griffins have produced flocks upon flocks of them to fill the ranks of the Alenian Army.

The wizards have lain dormant for centuries, learning their lesson to not put their faith into magic alone. More resistant soldiers and spells dedicated to inflict physical damage were created. The barbarians horde lie still too, but a new threat awaits Alenia.....

Chapter 1

“Up and at it! Mercenary Guild calls again, a village's in trouble,” shouted the commander.

The soldiers woke up cursing, unable to get a good night's rest from defending churchyards, trying to prevent the necromancers to obtain corpses from the graves to fill their armies.

Sade hastily buckled on his armour, helmet, checked his sword and strapped his shield on. He shivered involuntarily as he stepped out into the freezing night. By the time he was done, the bowmen had already strung their bows and were falling into formation at the rear. Sade and the rest of the swordsmen stood in line and marched on to the village under attack by the damn undead. More good living men will die, while the undead kept coming back.


Arrolt was sprinting from the village at full speed, with only his hunting bow and the dagger he always carried at his side. He had been on a hunting trip, following a herd of deers by the lake in the forest when the flare had gone up, both a warning and call for help. All the villagers would have crowded into the reinforced meeting hall by now, holding the undead minions off with rudimentary agricultural implements for weapons, awaiting the Mercenary Guild's aid.

As Arrolt ran, a white mist was up ahead, but it seemed unnatural, lying close to the ground. Every now and then, parts of the mist turned opaque and shifted slightly. Suspicious, Arrolt lay low on the ground and notched an arrow. He pulled it back slightly, trying to spot undead soldiers hidden inside. The necromancers had tried this trick countless time, using the mist as cover. But as Arrolt noted the wind direction to best shoot the arrow, a strong north-easterly wind, a head with green eyes turned to regard him. Arrolt froze, and he realised there should not be a mist this close to the ground and stay still with the strong wind! The thing that saw him turned its body, and was drifting towards Arrolt when a loud cry rang through the silent forest.

“What in Sarchelm are those things?”

The misty bodies drifted immediately towards the approaching mercenaries, hands outstretched, ready to strangle and kill.

“Ghosts!” Arrolt shouted in panic, but the warriors kept their
(whoops sorry didn't know that they had a limitation)

“Ghosts!” Arrolt shouted in panic, but the warriors kept their cool and a volley of arrows landed in the midst of the ghosts. Some ghost fell, but did most of the arrows seem to go right through the ghosts? He had no time to take note as he was aiming an arrow at the ghost moving swiftly towards him. The shaft flew true, and hit its head! Fumbling the next arrow, he shot and but it had no effect, flying through the ghost's torso. Its hands reached out, and gripped Arrolt's throat.

A cold sensation overpowered Arrolt and he choked for breath. But something was... different about the ghost. It seemed more... opaque? He reached for his dagger and slashed the ghost. It writhed in pain but did not release its iron grip. Choking, Arrolt took several desperate swipes, and it finally gave an unearthly cry and fell to the ground.
Sade exclaimed in shock as did many others, when the mist separated into several bodies drifting steadily towards them.

“No need to be shocked! Just more enemies to kill! Bowmen now! On my call swords!” rang out the commander who remained unshaken. The bowmen quickly recovered from the surprise and released a deadly volley of arrows. “Fire!”, and another volley flew.

“NOW SWORDS!” bellowed the commander. All the men bellowed and charged forward.

“Shields up!” Sade raised his heavy metal shield, blood pumping in anticipation of these new enemies.

A last volley of arrows struck the ghosts, and the swordsmen slammed into the ghosts like a battering ram, pushing their shields forward to deal more damage at the last moment. Many collided with the ghosts, who promptly fell into the earth, but Sade passed right through his and tumbled onto the ground, the momentum of his charge throwing him forward. Spitting dirt out of his mouth, he swung his sword out and slashed through a ghost. Another went straight for him, and he brought his shield high, blocking the hands. Instead, the ghost slipped through his guard and strangled him. He swung his sword wildly, trying to slash the ghost, but it drifted behind him, turning to avoid the wild swings.

“I'll get it Sade!” yelled Horace, a young recruit new to war that became fast friends with Sade. He thrust his pike into the ghost, which gave a bone chilling moan, and disappeared into the earth. He turned around and came face to face with the commander.

“Well luckily, there weren't very many of these ghosts, they're rather... unpredictable.”

“Yea, and we lost quite a few men here Sade, you were lucky to survive.”

“How many were....”

“Ten dead.” Damn that meant a third of their melee fighting force had went down in this fight.

The commander turned around to face he rest of his men. “We lost good men here to this new enemy. We now know how to fight this foul incorporeal spirits! We strive forward to destroy the menace to the village, in the name of revenge for our fallen comrades!”

The men cheered, morale rising. “We will carry these bodies back with us after we come back victorious, to protect them from the necromancer's foul touch. Now let's go!”

Following the commander, Sade ran beside Horace to the village, not knowing that the ghosts would soon come to haunt them again.
Very nice :)
Hope to see more soon
The reinforced door was being pounded from the outside, shaking heavily with every hit. The villagers in the town hall carried all sorts and manners of makeshift weapons, from sharpened pitchforks to reaping sickles that had a longer handle. The village head himself was lucky, with a sword and shield, and he bravely stood at the front.

With the onset of the undead, every village's hall had been reinforced so as to protect the villagers until the soldiers from the Mercenary Guild arrived. The door shook again, and started splintering. Soon, the village head thought, they would be at the mercy of the foul beings.


The men tightened their grip on the weapons while the bowmen notched their arrows. The skeletons and zombies were gathered in a horde outside the village hall, pounding on it to get to the villagers.

“You know what to do men, these are just the normal zombies and skeletons.”

Normal? Well after that encounter with ghosts and many past victories against zombies and skeletons, this fight now certainly seemed normal. Back before the invasion, a peaceful day of work at a farm, then go sparring with his....


Sade snapped back into focus, charging forward with the rest. He ran straight for a skeleton, slamming his heavy shield against its fragile body. The bones stood no chance against the steel, breaking apart, and Sade continued running forward, crashing into a zombie. It raised a rusty dagger to slash, but Sade blocked it quickly with his shield and hacked its head off. A hammer knocked into his head from the side, and Sade stepped back, momentarily dazed just as he heard cries of panic and dismay.

Recovering his wits, he charged a skeleton with his shield again, and turned around to find a ghost strangling him! Sade swung his broadsword through the ghost, and it fell. Catching his breath, he charged straight into another ghost, knocking it backwards and following up with a swift slash. Both hits struck true and the ghost perished.

“Sade help!!! Help!!!”

Sade turned around, and found Horace against a wall, pike on the ground, bare arms trying to fight off the ghost lifting him up in the air. With a roar of fury, Sade hacked the ghost, but his sword went through it and the swing left him off-balance. A huge zombie crashed into him, raised its dagger and was about to stab it through his head when it suddenly let its weapon fall with a clatter on Sade's armour. It fell forward, its back riddled with arrows, dead once again.

“He..He..l..p...” the desperate plea ended with a loud snap, as the ghost twisted and broke Horace's neck. An arrow pierced the side of the ghost's head, and as it turned around, an archer stabbed its body with a dagger. The ghost's unearthly moan echoed through the now empty battlefield as it perished.

Arrolt spotted a huge zombie charging towards a man, dagger raised high above its head. He fired, but the arrow fell short. He cursed his hunting bow, which was not strong enough for such distances. He reloaded quickly, aimed higher and shot with all his strength. The shaft struck, but the zombie continued running and slammed into the man. Arrolt let fly another arrow, and as the zombie reared up to kill, he prayed and released a third one. It hit the zombie's torso, and it fell forward, dead at last.
Scanning the field, he found a ghost lifting another soldier, choking him! He fired and the shaft punched into the ghost's head. Reaching for another arrow, he found that his quiver was empty! He strapped his bow to his back and pulled out his dagger, sprinting for the ghost at top speed. The ghost twisted its hands clinically, breaking its victim's neck. Shocked, Arrolt leaped the last few steps and stabbed the ghost viciously.
A swordsman turned to look at him, realising that Arrolt was the one who had saved his life, grudgingly muttered “Thanks.”

“No problem, but it looks like your platoon is greatly depleted. Have you ever met those ghosts before?”

Sade shook his head sadly. “No we were taken by surprise too. Are these ghosts the same ones we met in the forest or another group?”

“Well, I think it's the same ones we met in the forest.”

“What makes you think so?”

Walking to Horace's corpse, he picked up two arrows and showed Sade.


“I see you've never handled a bow before.”

"I don't use bows. I'm not a coward who's going to hide behind brave men when war comes and still call it fighting.”

Arrolt was surprised by this remark and called out indignantly “I rushed to the ghost with nothing but a short dagger after I ran out of arrows fool! Anyway, my arrows have different feathers from you soldiers. The last ghost I killed had two of my arrows in its head and I only shot one here before I ran out of arrows. I'm telling you, it's the same group.”

Sade froze, but continued walking to the village hall and pounded on it thrice, stopped then rapped it another three times and bellowed “ALL CLEAR!”

The code worked, as after a few moments, the villagers streamed out of the hall, thanking the few surviving soldiers as they walked out, the dead soldiers forgotten.

Sade counted and found that there were only five swordsmen left, and the bowman's ranks were greatly depleted too. He was puzzling over this as Arrolt walked towards him.

“The ghosts came from behind, through the forest, slaughtering the unprepared archers. They put up a brave fight, but could not take all of them down. The commander saw what happened and led a small group back to help them and he..he died, overwhelmed.”

Sade saw the commander's lifeless body in the middle of the group of dead archers and the ghosts' corpses.

“He was a great man and fighter,” mumbled Sade. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“You know what this means Sade?” asked Arrolt.

“Yes....the necromancers can revive their minions.”

“At least you figured it out.”

Arrolt left him alone, retrieving his arrows. He was walking towards the forest when a high pitched cackle froze his insides and he turned around, finding a pale faced woman, who looked as if she had just died seconds ago, some semblance of life still in the body, but clearly dead already.

She raised a scythe up, and an orb of sickly pulsating green light grew steadily in front of her. Chanting wordlessly, she raised her scythe up farther, and the orb burst. The zombie beside Arrolt promptly rose up and slashed Arrolt. It cut a gash across Arrolt's arm as he stood, shocked by the zombie's gruesome appearance. It still bore wounds from the recent battle, green blood spouting freely from multiple gashes and cuts.
Arrolt raised his dagger and parried its next thrust, and then the zombie's head flew off, with Sade grinning grimly from behind. “I saved your life, we're even now. By the way, what's your name?”

"I'm Arrolt, and thanks."

Both young men smiled and turned around.

What they saw instantly wiped every trace of happiness from their faces.

wow, now this is a good story! Keep it up.
Drew yawned widely. He had been riding his horse with the rest on nightly patrols ever since King Alaric managed to convince the Arch-prelate to relent and let the Church Knights help fight off the necromancers. The horsemen had to ride around the country, hunting the undead. He had nearly dozed off on his horse when the two forward scouts, wearing light armour for speed burst back, mounts wheezing for breath.

“Village in...in trouble up ahead,” the young scout, barely more than a boy panted excitedly, catching his breath.

Drew sat bolt upright on his saddle, alert now and rode in line with the rest, as they charged up to have their first taste of the undead.


Both men gasped when they saw all the zombies and skeletons rise up as the sickly unearthly green light spread through the undead soldiers.

The villagers panicked and ran back to the hall, but the skeletons had already crowded inside, raining blows with their hammer on many panicked villagers. The few soldiers who survived were putting up a brave fight, but the zombies overwhelmed them, and pushed them into the hall.

It was a slaughter, as Sade and Arrolt stood dumbfounded at the edge of the woods.


“Coming through!”

About twenty horsemen rode swiftly past Sade and Arrolt, dashing towards the hall where the screams were coming from as both men dived aside for the passing cavalry.

Drew charged into the hall, pointing his heavy lance at a zombie. The whole group of cavalry crashed into the undead, ploughing through them with little resistance. Drew's warhorse reared up and smashed a skeleton to pieces with its steel shod hooves. He threw the lance aside, as it was too heavy and unwieldy to be used in close combat. He pulled out his broadsword, and started slashing the sea of undead around him.

Within moments, the fight was put to an end, with the Church Knights sustaining little damage due to the heavy armour donned by both horse and knight. As they rode back to the forest, the villagers cheered on their saviours.

Sade ran in front of the knights and stopped in front of them.

“Yes?” asked Drew.

“There's a new type of creature that the necromancers are using and they're rather dangerous. I would like to share information with the kingdom on this before more lives are lost.”

“Are you an Alenian soldier?”

“No, a mercenary.”

“I see,” Drew said with great dislike. He saw mercenaries as men who only worked for money and saving lives mattered little to them. “Well, what about this new creature?”

“Did you notice any white misty patch on the ground when you charged past?”

Drew looked around. There were indeed quite a number of those patches.

“They're dead ghosts. The ghosts are extremely dangerous as they are sometimes incorporeal.”


“Swords and arrows just goes through them at certain times. They're unpredictable, hard to fight. My platoon lost many men in encounters with them. Also, we found out that the necromancers can.. can resurrect their dead.”

As Sade walked away, Drew called out “What do you mean?”

“My platoon fought the group of ghosts in the forests. We killed all of them, but when we arrived at the village, while fighting the zombies and skeletons, the ghosts came back and fought with the undead. We fought the whole lot of them, sustaining heavy losses and a necromancer came. She cast an eerie spell that caused all the skeletons and zombies to rise.”

Drew took into account these two new factors and swore loudly. “Ride back to the castle with us.”

hummmmmm ...........................................so good
Chapter 2

“It seems that our plan have failed,” a cold voice reverberated around the room.

“S-sorry m-master I didn't exp-pect the Church Knights to arrive. Th-the resurrected zombies and skeletons would have dealt with the remaining mercenari...”

The High Necromancer teleported in front of Mina, and spun his scythe in a blinding arc, stabbing it into her. She screamed and doubled over, clutching her wound. The High Necromancer reversed the spin expertly, bringing the blunt of the scythe slamming against Mina's head. The blow knocked her off her feet, and she landed in front of an Archlich. It casually tapped its staff's skull onto Mina, who rose up, healed, as the sickly green light spread throughout her.

“Oh highest one, I have good news,” rasped the Archlich.

“You have perfected the plague shot?” inquired the High Necromancer.

“Yes my Lord, we are able to somewhat infect everyone in a radius.”


“The plague is not virulent enough my Lord, we are able to infect unarmoured farmers around the target but fully armoured men are harder. We are still improving on it.”

The High Necromancer nodded, at least the liches were deadly against farmers and had brought him many corpses for Urgey, the transformation from dead to undead, bringing in many minions. They had seldom failed him and he had much faith in them. It had taken much effort to extricate them from their ancient and well-protected vaults, dark magicians feared in their time and buried very well as they were feared even in death, but it was worth it.

“It looks like only my venture was successful,” said the High Necromancer, displeased, as he walked across the hall.

“This would confirm my plans that have been put into motion already. As all of you would have noticed, our normal minions, skeletons, zombies and ghosts have failed us against the mounted Church Knights, I have turned to our ancient, and rather complex, spells of Urgeya for help.”

Many gasped, as so far, only the liches and the skeletal dragons had been transformed using Urgeya. Beings transformed with Urgeya were granted immense power, and the liches were indeed, powerful, but obedient as they had been saved from their eternal unrest in entombment and did not rebel as they could be sealed back to their vaults immediately by the High Necromancer. The dragons were extremely fearsome too, but they, unlike the liches and vampires, could not think for themselves as they were comprised of only bones now.
“I have taken down a few outlying mansions with the help of my own skeletal dragons. I have used Urgeya to transform the lords of the mansions into these.” He opened the double doors leading outside and revealed a group of cloaked blood-thirsty soldiers, vampires.

The Archlich was displeased. “In the past, the vampires have shown that they cannot control themselves, and have placed their thirst higher than the overall good which is the undead's dominion. All attempts to use them have been disastrous.”

“But that was when petty weak necromancers fought against each other. Now our enemy is one of red blood, and the vampires will hunt them down eagerly, I assure you. Of course, I tested the vampires, both their combat abilities and their legendary powers, able to restore their bodies using its victims' lifeblood. I witnessed their battle prowess yesterday, and find it more than satisfactory. You would discover that they are agile and extremely aggressive soldiers. I have already ordered the banished or dead vampires in our lands to be brought to Alenia. They will be enough to hold off the knights until I revive more creatures using the Urgeya.”

With that, the High Necromancer teleported away, leaving the elite of the undead staring at the vampires and wondering uneasily about the dangerous future with more Urgeya creatures.


At this point, I would like to acknowledge SwitchBlad3's help in editing the many mistakes in my story and also helpful suggestions to covey the story more effectively. Also, to anyone who reads this story, do feel free to post your comments or suggestions through private mail or the forum directly.

Thanks :)
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