~Chapter 11 - The Battle For Delthor~
Across a river and onto a great plain, the resistance forces had finally come face to face with Plague's dark army. The army was grotesque. Reanimated corpses in battle armor armed with swords and pikes awaited on the front lines. Beasts who stood like men were equally armed and among their ranks. Behind the field of wretched warriors stood Shinryu, a 7ft tall dragon humanoid. His body was adorned with the finest of Plague's armor, and a giant scimitar was held by his right claw. His two wings were gently folded behind his back. Large boney spikes jutted from his shoulders and elbows and 2 large horns adorned the sides of his head. The resistance stood in awe and horror, as they had never seen anything like this before or faced an evil magic of this caliber.
General Linea shouted for the troops to assemble in ranks, her voice breaking the frightened trance of her men. They lined up, their eyes facing the enemy ahead of them. On command they drew their swords, frightened of their foe. Knowing what was at stake, they still stood bravely, prepared to give their lives for the very future of Delthor. With the sound of a horn and the cries of both Linea and Shinryu, the armies cried out and began their charge towards each other, the sounds of steel against steel denoting the beginning of battle.
Within minutes, the plains were covered in blood, and the ashes of the wicked army flowed through the air. The dark army's beasts may have been larger in size and stronger, but alas, they were slow and dumb. General Linea sent out her cavalry captains to lead their units out on horseback one by one, sending them in different directions as to hit Plague's army from the sides. One by one, the cut through Plague's forces, turning their bodies to ash as they sliced through their reanimated flesh. Shinryu then orders a round of fire from his archer and spearmen, attempting to maintain control on the battlefield. While a handful of cavalrymen successfully evaded the volley, the rest were hit by the spears and arrows and thrown from their horses. The resistance forces still maintained the upper hand in this battle. They had the power of numbers on their side.
Or so they thought. Just when it had appeared that the resistance would be able to overcome Plague's army, the resistance stood dead in their tracks as they heard the wretched cries of the dark army behind them. They had been flanked! Plague had anticipated the resistance formation on this battlefield, and had actually sent out half of his army a day ahead of the rest to get in position. The dark army charged in, pinning the resistance army between them, the river, and the other half of the dark army. Regardless of their speed, their sheer number and power was enough to overwhelm what remained of the resistance. The tides of battle had turned, and things looked bleak as the resistance became as lambs to the slaughter. But then, there was this sound...
The entire battlefield stood silent in place. A low pitched droning could be heard as the ground began to tremble. The sound appeared to be coming from the east, as everyone's head turned to face the hills in the distance. From 3 different directions came 3 different armies, one of the Dwarves, one of the Elvenkind lead by Ailas, and the other, a small force consisting of the remaining resistance of Prisma lead by none other than Byron the Templar. The armies charged full force down the hills and on to the plains of battle, prepared to unite as one for the future of Delthor.
Meanwhile, our Hero, in the midst in battle, rises from the ground to see a dark silhouette behind the ash and dust in the air in front of them. The dust clears to reveal Shinryu glaring menacingly at the Tenkara, weapon drawn. Standing his ground, our hero draws the Crimson Lhang, prepared for the final showdown against Plague's ultimate evil.