Chapter 3: Danse Macabre

The next night, Tsarch leads an army of twenty men. Ten skeleton archers, ten skeleton swordsmen. Raiding a dwarven village should provide a lot of weapons and corpses. This village should be very easy to raid since it is both remote and there will be no reinforcement come in time to save this village. Walpire village is doomed now.

"Why would you need to bring a small group of army instead of the main army?" The dragon asks

"This is a skirmish, small fight. Secondly, wouldn't it be more convenient to be stealthy? Thirdly, bigger the group, the better they prepared" Tsarch points the dwarvish guards

Unprepared for a small group of army is what Tsarch wanted. He prefered this tactic since it was more efficient and deadly. He once led a small group to raid an elvish town. The next day, the main army captured the village and rested. But not for long, the Silent Leaf army wiped half of the main army that night.

<The red devil> orders the skeletons to submerge in the river that runs through the village.

He swiftly moves in the dark to gain some attention from those guards

"Hey, matey. Did ya see dat?" A dwarf asks

"Ya, strange. Thank gaudness, I'm naut de onlee one" Another replies

Fwip sliuts~ Fwip sliuts~ Fwip sliuts~ Fwip sliuts~

Four guards down by arrows

"Did ya hear that?" A dwarvish guard wakes up

"I heerd..." As arrows slit through both guards' necks

The outpost is gone. This village's graveyard is a blessing for those who need assistance from the undead. Especially liches. It has an abundance of corpses over the years.

It happens to be near this village outpost and there is no more witness.

****

The amount of skeletons is large. The dwarves, they are being 200 to one. There is no way that the dwarves could survive this.

****

There is something wrong. There is no way that this remote village has so many weapons but lacks security. He resurrects one of the dwarven guards.

"Tell me, What is going on in this village?" Tsarch sways his hand hand around

"We hav' been guardin' fer a month. Fer some reasons, we havin't seen our reinforcement." The lifeless corpse bows

"CHANGE OF PLAN. WE ARE GOING TO TAKE DOWN THE FORT WITH OUR CURRENT FORCE" As Tsarch raises his pole up.

****

"We're outnumbered. There are too many undeads around here." A dwarf catches his breath

"How could dis happein?" The general strokes his beard

The undead are trying to siege down the fort. They use logs as ram. The dwarves are using thundersticks and hot oil to burn down some skeletons but… The undead are mostly unscratched? They are not burning at all. Only those who get headshot are down. The rest, the flame can't burn them.

"So Tsarch, explain to me how our army could withstand the flame?" Gindel whispers

"It is quite simple and yet effective. I asked the dead dwarves to carve the whole frontline skeleton rune marks. Even though it might weaken the bone structure, the thing that matters the most is to break the gate down and their only option is to pour hot burning oil to burn a massive amount of armies. Unfortunately for them, throwing rocks against this amount of skeletons is the only option or perhap shooting boulders is another great option but then again. I can make those skeletons rise once more." Tsarch laughs

"So your necromancy has improved?"

"Not that. It is because I gather their wills at one same spot right now," Tsarch points his skull ", Here is where I keep their wills and after this, I will return these wills back to their bodies. Because it is quite a burden on my body to keep all of this. I can't really move well in this state. This is the greatest drawback while using this. I prefer to be on the front and beat them to pulp"

"What can I say about your bloodthirstiness anyway?"

"Killing enemy and watch them bleed are two things that I know" He shrugs

And those skeletons who are just down rise again. Even though a hole in their heads, they keep ramming the gate. Until…

Whamp!

The gate is broken. It is now a problem for the dwarves but there is more than one threat from front.

There are skeletons just crawling from the sewage of the fort. They are flooding from the backline of the dwarves.

"FOUL FIENDS. THEY 'RE COMIN' FROM BAC'.'"The dwarvish guard points at the sewage's lid.

"DAMN IT ALL. DAMN IT ALL. FIGHT TIL' LAST MAN. WE 'RE GONNA HOLD EM TIL DAWN. THEY 'RE WEAKER UNDER THE SUN." The dwarvish captain clenches

"FER THUNDER SPEAR'S GLORY!FER THUNDER SPEAR'S GLORY!FER THUNDER SPEAR'S GLORY!FER THUNDER SPEAR'S GLORY!" The entire castle shakes

Now skeletons are having a bit hard time to fight against those inspired dwarves. Tsarch suddenly makes a dash.

Swosh Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang Clang

Weapons and armors drop like rain.

Swosh Splat

The frontline of the dwarves is now in half. The blood flows like a river. The flesh is scattered.

Anywhere in the fort, they hear a laugh. A laugh of madman or devil? It is unclear. One thing for sure, the last day of the fort is next dawn.

The fort is down. No dwarf can live to tell this tale. How fort Maersor fell in one night and one dawn.

****

Three days later, the undead unloads the last batch of weapons. The amount of weapons like this could support a half of the kingdom of humans.

"Hmmm, We have enough explosives for the assaulting plan. But still, I feel like we need more men. Usually drakes can take on five armed humans at the same time. That is only a normal drake civilian, it would be more to take down an armed drake" Tsarch walks back and forth

"How about a draugr?" Gindel suggests

"One wouldn't be enough. It should be around. Let's see," He raises his fingers to calculate ",(one for every twelve men and we have around...). It should be around three hundred or four to be enough."

Draugrs are those stronger and smarter skeletons. One can take down a dozen skilled elvish swordsmen due to their flexibility and durability. They are greedy as well. Anyone who wants to borrow their strength has to offer them either a relic or a weapon that is interesting to them. Draugrs also love to guard their own treasures and never bow down to anyone, even a king or tyrant.

To recruit such men, <The red devil> has to raid some more dwarvish villages or explore ruins. It could take time to find draugrs.

"Master, there are some figures at our entrance. They don't seem either hostile or friendly. They shouted that they wanted to meet you" A scout bows down

"Great, great" As <The red devil> sways his hand

****

At the door, there are some figures.

"We heard a rumor from those living scouts that there is someone who is capable of destroying a big army alone around here" <???> waves his hand

"Who are you?" Tsarch stomps his pole

"We are those lost souls on the battlefield long ago. We don't get to heaven nor hell. We stuck here and have been wandering through out many many twilights" <???> shrugs

"What do you want to do?"

"We want to have a purpose to do before we forget why we are here or how we may speak again. As some of our men become mindless creatures" <???> sways his hands around

"Name yourself" Tsarch sways his pole

"I was once a general, <The golem of Palos>. I was the man who has the strength of twenty dwarves." He stomps the ground and it shakes

"<The golem of Palos>. This name rings me a bell. I admire your strength but I knew the reason you lost to those orcs was outnumbered. That could be your last battle" <The red devil> stabilizes himself

"That is true." <The golem of Palos> crosses arms

"I don't want you to join the army for two reasons. One is I respect you and don't want you to be my underlings. Two is your strength could be our greatest disaster." As Tsarch shakes his head

"What do you propose?" <The golem of Palos> gazes

"I suppose I want to borrow your reputation to recruit me some draugrs" <The red devil> raises a finger

"Draugrs? I don't have enough reputation with them. But I do know there is a group of draugrs in a nearby ruin. Venture deep into the wood of Jyrsil. There is a ruin of elvish noble manson. Deep down there are five layers." <The golem of Palos> still crosses his arms

"I will consider that"

****

Tsarch takes 500 skeletons along with him. They have arrived at that mansion.

He stomps his pole to announce his presence.

There is silence.

He and his army delve in the ruin

On the first floor, no living can withstand this stench of rotten corpses. Skeletons are everywhere. Full of shapes. Cut in half, crushed heads, no limbs, skulls on stakes and those corpses that have been shattered in pieces.

It seems this place is suitable for necromancy practice but those corpses are in bad shape to revive. Another note is the fact that ghosts, wraiths, spectres are better to be enslaved by those necromancers or powerful liches. They may not have their own bodies but their horrifying wails can be useful for long battles. But Tsarch prefers a physical army to march rather than relying on those flying around and patiently killing enemies. He prefers ripping bodies in pieces than torturing mentally.