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 Issue #14 | |||
33rd of Wintumber, Year 169
Dear Diary, things aren’t going too well. We are badly outnumbered by these unholy abominations. There is no end to them, we slash and we crush and we stab but as they fall, new waves rush to fill the gap, trampling their own men for Saradomin’s sake! But that isn’t the worst of it, we have dealt with hoards of villagers and untrained peasants before. Numbers alone will never lower our morale. Anything we can cut we can kill, we thought… These bastards are demons in human flesh! When they fall to our halberds and shortswords they get back up and keep fighting! In the first few skirmishes we put it down to a hardened fighting resolution, what we would expect from any enemy. We were wrong. I saw Sergeant Matthew pierce one straight through the heart! It fell and he moved on to the next one, stepping over the fallen body. It got up and stabbed him right back! I tried to call to him but my throat was hoarse and I stood frozen in place. This changes everything, we weren’t merely fighting another war against soldiers, these were the damned undead. I called the retreat signal with my personal horn, specially crafted by those barbarians from up north. My troop fell back, defending desperately against the charging masses. We made it back to our night camp, a recently discovered ancient ruin. It was covered in heathen symbols but right now, anything was better than being out there in the open. I ordered two of the recruits to do a headcount while the rest dealt with reinforcing the crumbling walls and weak-spots in our defences. They were tough men and used to getting up before dawn and working in total darkness. But they were as if children, staring deeply into patches of empty darkness, keeping their back to the walls and to each other. It’s one thing to be on guard, but expecting demons and monsters in every corner, that's where madness lies. It turned out we were missing 28 men, a huge chunk of my troop. Today was a bad day, and it would only get worse tonight. I hoped to Saradomin we wouldn't have a night attack, in the condition the men were in today we wouldn't survive it. Four other troops arrived shortly after, soon noticing our absence. It was moronic of me to call the retreat without informing the other sergeants; they could have all died because of the breach we created. Some did, I’ll remember to apologize when I see them. If only I knew how soon I would have the chance. After everyone had retreated to the camp, we found the total figures of 160 dead, 231 with light injuries and 74 with serious injuries. I had the priests tend to them at once, hopefully saving as many as possible, the others will have to be killed. We have neither the food nor the water to tend to that many sick. When I get back…, no. If I get back, those who planned this will rue the day they were created. They had planned this to be a quick battle, they hadn’t even considered the possibility of opposition. The enemy numbers seemed so small. They were hiding extra men, in the ground. We are under supplied, under manned and under trained. Most of these men are just recruits from neighbouring villages, only a handful of veterans. It normally wouldn’t matter with our superior armour and weapons. (We had mostly mithril, but some of the upper-class officers could afford adamant.)
We were completely unprepared for something like this, those demonic abominations were fighters! They seemed to have a wealth of knowledge with their weapons, old and rusted they may be. This must be the work of Zamorak! That evil bastard and his demonic followers! We have fought them before but only skirmishes, they fight dirty as anything! Using arcane magiks and unholy weaponry! And those damned dogs, the “Hellhounds” we called them. They were as strong as five men and ten times faster. It took three strong men just to sever their heads through all that bunched muscle and thick flesh. When they were released, it was the beginning of the end. Those dogs were the reason that the new set of battle axes were purchased from the northern dwarfs. We would put them to good use today, even in the fray I noticed that only those with head wounds would go down and stay dead. That was the key, crush the brain! We still had a chance at winning this!
34th of Wintumber Year 169
Dear Diary, all is lost. We have no chance of winning. Today, just as we had started to turn back the tide of undead, one of them crawled up from the earth with a golden crown upon its head. It looked no different to any of the others, maybe slightly taller from not slouching as much, but that was it. But you should never judge a tome by its covering, it had such incredible amounts of power that i wouldn't be surprised if it was one of Zamorak’s generals!
- By: Pharos 5