Necro (standard:fantasy, 2673 words)
Author: Marty	Added: Jul 02 2005	Views/Reads: 3130/2073	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is the unfinished prolouge from my novel. Please rate it.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

they were warned about when they were younger, the noise heard when the 
dead crept through the night to a town of there choosing to steal 
children, women and men for supper and a no option invitation to join 
there cause for an entirety of serving a necromancer's will. These 
particular dead where wading through the river in a mass of unorganised 
dead flesh. But there was something, which stood out from there 
tumbling and swaying. They were being lead. Lead by a sole being, one 
that did not sway or tumble in a awkward way, this dead being or could 
it be a human or even a dreaded necromancer was walking normally and it 
could hold a straight lined walk, which was impossible for the dead to 
do as there brains were rotted away in to nothing and there sense of 
direction went with it. No one could tell what evil thing it was 
because it was hard enough to see the group through the pelting rain. 
They watched as the dark group of disgust disappeared through the 
curtain of grey rain. “We the faithful knights and solders of Pern, we 
strafe forward to eliminate any dead or evil doers that curse this 
land. It is our born task to free this whole island of evil...No my 
brothers, it is not just a task it is our sworn duty to rid us of this 
evil and to purify the ground on which a hollow being stands.”  Said 
the man as he turned to face his men once more, his army. “I see it in 
your face that you are all are tried....” he paused to look at his 
silent army. Every part of the army had one or two injured soldiers 
being supported by other comrades. “But I can see in your eyes a thirst 
which death could not ever be quenched, a thirst for revenge, a thirst 
to rage on. I feel it my brothers and know you do. So I ask you, let us 
unleash our rage and combine it into one dream...one sword to slice the 
head of this evil once and for all....” He paused once more to the 
sound of cheers and roars. The sentence seemed to spring new life and 
energy into everyone you heard it. The new found life surged through 
the army and stayed in their hearts to give them a new found reason and 
passion to slay all evil who opposed them. As this was going on a 
knight on horseback moved through the army. His sliver breastplate made 
a sound of bullets as the rained hammered on him. The armour had the 
same golden crest incrested on it. He wielded a bronze tower shield in 
his left hand, but he wore no helm; instead he wore a wet bush of curly 
red hair that had been flattened by the never-ending torrent of rain. 
The curls lay on his pale forehead like wet seaweed on a rock. Droplets 
of water rushed down his face and through his red bread, in response to 
his sudden movements. His mare trotted out of the group of soldiers and 
to the right-hand side of the speaker. “Sire, may I speak to you in 
private?” the knight said in low tone, as if he didn't want anyone else 
to hear. “Of course Captain,” replied the golden armoured king. The two 
men turned their steads and galloped a few metres from the army. The 
two men came to a stop and faced away from the army's vision. The king 
lifted his mask and now the other man was starring at a familiar face. 
The captain felt a bit of comfort from his face, the feeling 
disconnected him from his surroundings for a few seconds only to come 
crashing back to reality when a droplet of chilled rain hit his nose. 
He shivered lightly and was focused once more on his king. A king who 
single handily brought Pern kingdom out from the dark ages to where it 
is today. It was an impossible feat but this man did it. Pride was the 
only way for the captain and any other to describe him. A black and 
grey beard, which was neatly cut, covered the king's face and his black 
curls hung over his forehead from under his gold helm. “What is it you 
wish to ask Lucifer?” asked the king in a more casual voice. “Sire, I 
don't think it is wise to pursue this group of enemy's across the river 
Frail...” The captain hesitated. “If that is the task you wish 
undertake?” This question was followed by an awkward silence that the 
captain was intimated by. “Forgive me if those weren't your intensions 
my lord?” the captain quickly added. A smile appeared on the king's 
face that made his facial lines deeper. “No need to apologise my old 
friend, no need at all. Yes, that is the course I am willing to take 
Lucifer, you must have thoughts on the matter Lucifer? Tell me please 
but if you can keep it short I would be grateful. And please call me by 
my name, you are my dearest friend after all.” Replied the king. “Yes I 
do s...Tullerise. I think that we should not be too hasty in rushing in 
to this, Sire, this situation, because it could be an ambush or a trap 
even, we should at least consider it. After-all it is enemy territory.” 
The smile didn't disappear off Tullerise's face, either did the lines. 
“A wise statement my friend but it falls to short of the stick at this 
moment in time. My friend I do not doubt you but take a look at our 
army, the pride, I am sure we can abolish anything that gets in our way 
with that alone, and trust me they will not dare do that. We are seven 
hundred or so, men strong. And we must have decapitated nearly over six 
hundred hollow ones. And I feel...alive again because for the first 
time we got those disgusting being on the run. On the run, us. My 
friend the tides have turned in our favour and I will not let this 
event slip out of my reach. We want to kill as many dead as we can so I 
ask you Lucifer, will you follow a pride struck king into battle of ten 
maybe twelve hollow ones?” The king said with his smile still intact on 
his face. “I stick with my king no matter what, sire I will.” Replied 
the captain. “Excellent, we will talk more when we arrive at the castle 
victorious, over a feast celebrating this army and good will.” The 
king's smile disappeared as his golden mask fell over his face once 
more.  He turned his stead around to face his followers. Galloping a 
couple of paces towards them, he then came to a halt. His horse started 
to jump up on his hind legs and she started neighing. The king trust 
his sword up once more. “The wait has weathered away, let us go and 
fight for our victory!” roared the king followed by the cheers and 
blood lusting roars of his army. The king straightened his stallion up 
and began to gallop towards the other side of the river followed by the 
thundering noise of feet and hoofs that but the sound of the rain to 
shame. 

Across the river a dark figure stood on top of a small hill, watching
the bogs below and other things. He wore jet-black armour from collar 
to toe. He also bore a black scabbard in which rested a brown handled 
sword. Suddenly he broke the stare and glanced on to a small group of 
people or something else coming towards him. They were being lead by a 
sole being. The followers were moving left and right in an unorganised 
group. A stench of death and rotting flesh filled the mysterious man's 
nose. The man took a long deliberate sniff of the stench. His eyes 
widened and an evil smile appeared on his weather beaten face. He made 
a noise of satisfaction under his breath. As the group of dead reached 
the foot of the hill, the leader turned and said something, which could 
not heard over the clattering of the rain. The dead started to move 
about awkwardly and then they moved to form a line In front of the 
hill, facing in the direction of the river Frail. The leader looked up 
at the mysterious man on the hill and he started to walk to him, his 
short rusted sword dangled from his left hand. As he got closer the 
mysterious man could make out the leaders face. It was a horrible site 
for a mere moral to set eyes on but it did not affect this man. The 
leader's face was wet and was falling apart. An empty eye socket was to 
be seen on the left side of his face and its face looked badly bruised 
and swollen. It made an inhuman sound, a sound of pain. As it got to 
the top and beside the mysterious man it pulled an awkward half smile 
that extend up his left cheek, or what looked like his cheek. “I am 
here master.” It groaned. “Good, are they following?' asked the man 
without looking at his servant. There was an intentioned short silence 
between the master and servant. The silence was filled with a 
stampeding noise in the background. “Yessss.” Replied the leader. Which 
was followed by a cold snigger from the man. “Good, it's amazing what 
your kind can do with your brain intact.” Said the man in a deep tone. 
The leader pulled a puzzled face that opened a fresh scare on his 
forehead. “Ah, a great day for a battle, I can feel it in my bones. 
Everything is going to plan,” Said the man with a deep laugh. “Is the 
others in pos..pos-,” the leader tried to say. “Yes they are in 
position and ready to be awakened, but it is not for you to worry on 
those complex situations. And what did I tell you about big words you 
fool. Your brain will rot quicker at the pace you're going with those 
big words.” Said the man angrily. The leaders face was expressionless. 
“Go and join your group you waste of space, GO!” shouted the man. The 
decaying leader turned and descended down the hill to the other dead. 


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