The Restless Dead-A Coming Darkness story

Chapter 1
Chaotic battle

The air thundered as a hundred guns suddenly spoke out in unison, the igniting gunfire sending a blinding cloud of smoke and ash into the air which burned eyes and choked throats. Ahead of them, dozens of howling men suddenly fell to their knees as the small ion balls dug into them, ripping apart flesh and bone alike as they flew forwards. The men screamed as they fell, their howls of pain blending seamlessly with the blood thirsty cries of their brothers in arms as they continued to serge forward, a never ending tide of blood crazed barbarians.
“Artillery take third rank! Swordsmen and Spearmen take first and second rank!”
The soldiers of the Empire were flawless in their motion as they stood and reformed their battle lines, the Handgunners falling back to the rear of the battle line to reload whilst the Swordsmen, formed a shield wall, the Spearmen, leaning their spears forwards to support them. Their movements had been perfected after years of training and dozens of battles and now, what had once been a maneuver that took over two minutes now passed in a heartbeat. Every second did count when there was a horde of bloodthirsty barbarians running at you with a load of axes after all…
As they drew nearer, men cursed and snarled as they caught glimpses of the self mutilation that their attacks had put themselves through. Every one of the once proud men had cut themselves in some strange way to appease their gods, each one drawing as much blood as they could from themselves and others in order to gain the attention of a force beyond any mortal understanding, believing that they would somehow protect them from the righteous steel of the Empire’s weapons. Some had embedded spikes into their own skin and some had scraped heretical ruins into their arms and legs, but all had the same symbol carved into some part of their bodies, a mark that was a good as any death sentence in the lands of the empire.
The eight pointed star, that mark of the ruinous powers of Chaos…
“Swordsmen, stand ready!” Commander Conjack von Hearing roared, raising his voice as loud as he could to be heard over the thunderous charge of the barbarians before him. He knew that his men would stand true but it helped to keep their moral up to think that he had their best interest in mind, despite the fact that come the inevitable melee then Conjack would only be fighting for himself, as would every man caught in the middle of the swirling mass of bodies, arrow and blade.
To his side stood his most trusted lieutenant, Michel, and his Greatsword bodyguard, composing of around twenty men. They were all veterans of the many battles and had lost many friends in the past, but it had all been to make them excellent soldiers, and Conjack knew that they would happily die for him and serve in death if they could. And it was in battle that this would be tested time and time again, when steel met steel and shields shattered and broke.
Then, with the thundering charge of a thousand men and women, the horde of Chaos worshippers slammed against the Empire shield wall and the sacrifice of blood to the dark god Korn began. Conjack only dew his sword and ran forwards towards the line, smiling as he heard the war cry of his men from behind as they charged forward to support him in combat.
He loved the smell of spilled blood in the morning….
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Around two miles away, women sat silently as the sound of gunfire was drowned out my screaming and the clashing of metal as the battle was joined completely. They all huddled together in various places around the small camp, hugging people that they had never met before as they tried to find comfort for the coming news of the loved ones they had fighting in the battle beside them. They were all that was left of the population of the small village known as Glumhof, the small village on the very edge of the Empire of man that by all rights should have been abandoned years before after it had been completely destroyed a grand total of seven times in the space between 1114 and 2522. Now the entire population had been evacuated when the Chaos cultists had descended upon them, any men old enough to use a sword had been drafted into a relief force that would even now be marching to support the army that had engaged the Chaos force and the rest had been dumped into this small camp made out of nothing more than a collection of wagons and a damp campfire. They all knew that they could not return home, all they could do now was to pray to Sigmar that their husbands, brothers and sons would be moving to their new homes with them.
Those that found they were un-able to simply sit and pray had taken to pacing back and forth, listening to the clash of blades and screaming in the distance as if they would be able to pick out their loved ones voice amongst the sounds of war. They exchanged glances with one another as the moved, glancing up whenever the sound of a cannon firing roared out into the air. They looked everywhere they could to keep their minds of the images that flashed through their thoughts of the battle, everywhere except up towards the roof of the nearby army carriages, or at the woman who stood atop the weapon storage van.
Her name was Elizabeth von Hearing, wife of the commander of the engaged army of the Empire and a woman with a face of steel. She was unnaturally beautiful in her build and features, her eyes seeming to glow a deep red as they reflected the flames of the nearby camp fire, the glow illuminating her face as the shadows danced and flickered again and again. She showed no emotion as she watched the distant flicker of light as there was the sound of another wave of canon fire, nor made any sound of reaction of the screaming soared in the air, the sound seeming to surround her as it almost amplified with a minute twitch of her thin wrist.
She as alone save for a single man that leaned against the bottom of the carriage, huddled in the corner as he flicked through the pages of some ancient text, occasionally glancing up to where the battle was being fought as he mumbled the words of the text under his breath in a constant drabble of unintelligent words, his face completely hidden in blackness by his long, torn hood. No one knew who he was, only that he had appeared with the military relief force and had remained where he was, shadowing Elizabeth like some sort of dog that had been beaten into its loyalty.
But that was how she seemed to view the people around her, nothing more than dogs that needed to have loyalty taught to them, and the way that the only times she did look round at the gathered camp of civilians, her lips curling into a snarl and her gloved hand resting on her sword, only proved to increases that image. Her beautiful features seemed sinister whenever she glanced towards the pair of mothers praying for their fifteen year old sons to return or towards the young baby that cried in its sisters arms, she almost looked hungry.
Shaking her head, Elizabeth leaped down from the roof of the wagon and landed if almost impossible grace, tuting as she kick some dirt from her thigh-high black boots. Resting her hand on the hilt of her sword, she turned towards the whispering man before her and peered at the book he had cradled in his hands.
“How many times are you going to read that? We know what it says”
“Yes mistress we do” The man snapped, before seeming to remember who he was talking to and shivering as he returned to his book, running his long hand down the page as his hood fell further forward. His voice sounded distant and strained, like it was being heard through a long distance or through a must filled wall, not entirely there or part of the correct world. “But I must now the words perfectly, a single mistake and I will be…”
“Silence” Elizabeth snapped suddenly as she took a threatening step towards the hidden figure “Say another word and I will gut you like the vermin you are”
“A thousand apologies my mistress” The man wheezed as if his fear had caused his voice to completely leave his hidden face “I did not intend to threaten you but I do not enjoy being disturbed when I am reading…I am sure that you understand”
“Don’t push your luck…” The woman snarled as she leaned close it his hood “I would have slain any other man for far less than what you have done now. You had best thank your god that you are of use to my husband and me in our plan”
“I serve no god my lady” The figure seemed t chuckle, his laughter hollow and horse “I intend to very soon be a god myself…serving you of course…”
Eliaberth only snarled again as she turned and begun walking away, vanishing into the darkness that consumed the forest around the camp, ignoring the cries of warning that were sounded out by a few of the braver civilians that had gathered around the campfire. Alone again, the hunched man to release a strange sound, something between a blow of breath and a snarl, before turning back to his book and returning to his muttering.
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had so openly served had not protected him from harm. The man spat a blood as he tried to say something before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.
All around him men and women were dying, blood flew in every direction as blades pierced flesh and blunt weapons slammed against skull. The Empire soldiers had now been forced to completely forsake any form of organization as they fought against the tide of bodies that slammed against them.
This was the time of a battle when heroes were made are destroyed, when the glory of gun lines are military command was forsaken for a desperate melee were people who had never even dreamed of hurting another person in their lives were forced to smash skulls in with sword hilts or to simply punch the enemy again and again. All the glory offered in Empire recruitment centers and the years of training added up to nothing when your sword was shattered by a Marauders axe and you were forced to throw your entire body weight forward into them, that was the way that war went, he way that legends were born, no twin-tailed commit...only the crawling around in the blood soaked mud…
It was enough to make Michal gag as he parried a spiked club with his shield and stabbed forward, relying on the sound of his attacker hitting the ground to announce his kill as he spun round in time to drive his sword through the back of another cultist who had just been about to kill one of his men whilst he was distracted. Beside him one of his own men fell screaming as yet another Marauder ran forward, swinging a twin headed mace above his head that simply took the entire front of the more soldiers face clean of in a shower of blood. The blood covered Korn worshiper screamed with joy as he swung the mace around again, charging towards Michal as he howled his praise to his god, his eyes wide and insane with his bloodlust. The Greatsword captain cursed as he swung himself to the side to avoid the two swinging spiked balls, swinging his sword upwards seconds later in a wide arc that completely severed the barbarians arm clean of, sending him flying backwards howling in pain, only to be cut down as his own men as the barbarians smashed him out of the way to get to grips with their enemies.
Michal only had a second to wipe the blood and sweat from his brow before charging forwards again, holding nothing back as he smashed against them. Looking behind him, he caught sight of his commander and could barely bring himself to not stare at him as he fought, forcing his mind to keep fighting when at any other time he would have simply stood and starred...
Wrenching his sword free from a scarred chest of blackened flesh, Conjack spun around and threw himself at a group of chaos marauders, his blades seeming to slash back and forth with impossible speed as he gutted and decapitated marauder after marauder. The crazed barbarians were barely able to land a hit as he leaped over their heads only to drive his blade into their backs, twisting it to cause extra suffering before pulling it free and engaging another one. Even when a champion stepped forward to face him, the fight lasted barely a second as Conjack slammed the blades into the massive mans chest, sending a spray of blood out as he withdrew it. Licking off the blood that had fallen onto his face, the commander of the Empires army looked nothing like her had before, his blade almost invisible in his hand as he swung it around his body, and through others, with an impossible speed. The Empires soldiers around him had been forced to back away lest they be struck down alongside the servants of chaos as their commander gave into some sort of bloodlust that sent him hurtling forwards again and again as he carved apart more and more of the northern men. His eyes had seemed to become thin as slits as he punched a man in the face, shattering his nose and driving it into his skull, killing him instantly as he hurled the body into the man behind him, slicing the man’s leg of as he instinctively caught the body of his fallen comrade.
The air seemed to scream as the cannons atop the hill spoke again, vomiting a series of massive balls of ions through the smoke of battle to fall amongst the northern men, hurling their broken bodies high into the air in a cloud of blood and dirt, tearing massive scars into the ground. Bodies were piling high from the ground, killer falling atop of the killed as they were struck down in tern only for their killer to be slain as well, an endless cycle of bloodshed and killing. Very few of those fighting still remembered why it was that they were fighting, any forum of history and future forsaken for the now as they fought for their lives.
Conjack was almost animalistic as he bared his teeth and threw himself forward once again, his blades singing as he raised it upwards and swung it down into another foe.
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Elizabeth stood motionlessly from atop a hill, her dark form almost completely camouflaged by the dark undergrowth of trees as she looked down at the battle below. It hadn’t taken her long to walk all of the way from the camp to the battleground, not that she had paid any attention to the process of her walk, brooding as she was in her own thoughts. Her nose curled as she caught the thick whiff of gunpowder and sweat which swarmed through the air from the army’s rear lines, from the rows of smoking cannons and cursing men. They looked so pathetic as she watched them slam another ball of steel into the mouth of their great cannon, patting the label of ‘Angry Anna’ before setting fire to the gunpowder within and using the explosion to propel the ball out into the Chaos lines with lethal affect.
Sighing, she leant against a large tree as she watched them run around; preparing the cannon for another shot, taking what seemed like an age to get the gun working again. She barely spared an amused glance as the ball got caught inside one of the cannons and it exploded with a spectacular flash of fire and smoke, ripping the cannon’s barrel apart and hurling them towards the other gun crews with impossible speed, each ragged chunk of metal glowing white hot as they sliced through flesh and bone, the destroyed guns crew simply vanishing in the explosion. She rested her head against the ancient oak as she heard them scream in agony, throwing themselves in any possible direction in an attempt to avoid the fires and shrapnel, listening to the heavy thud that followed the agonized screams of those who were too slow and thought of the future.
She completely lost track of time as she stood there, listening to the roar of death and violence that poured across the planes below her. She longed to be with her husband, fighting and killing in the mass orgy and unrestrained hatred, to feel the splash of blood on her flesh…
“I have a message for your sergeant!”
Elizabeth opened her eyes as a small, fat man rode an exhausted horse forwards from the battlefield, waving a sealed parchment in his hand as his horse leapt over the broken bodies and debris of the lost cannon and navigated around those that were still operational. Sweat ran like a sea down his face as he searched franticly through the gunpowder blackened faces of the men and women of the Empire’s Artillery division, his breathing heavy and labored as he searched for the one he had been sent to find. For a second he looked towards her, but he turned away as if he hadn’t seen her as she leaned back against the tree, blending in with the darkness that flowed around the trees.
“What do you want?”
The messenger gave a sigh of relief as he turned to look see the artillery sergeant rise from the shattered body of a young man who had been too close to a wayward cannon shot, leaving a small golden hammer on the boys chest.
“Commander Conjack orders you to raise your fire to the rear of the enemy line as much as possible” the fat man called over, stopping his horse inches away from the sergeant’s face “He says that the barbarian horde is broken and wants you to cut off their escape. Bring the Empires fury down upon them from the rear and they will be pinned down between your fire and the infantry. Conjack wants as many of the dead as possible”
The sergeant didn’t reply as he turned and began barking out orders for the cannon crews to redirect their fire, leaving the messenger to gasp on the air and take an exaggerated gulp from his water canister, which gave of a stench that easily betrayed its lack of being actual water. He rained his horse and, taking a last look towards the massive battle raging below him, began riding his horse away towards the tree line, eyes flashing a trace of fear that was invisible to all present except one.
From the darkness of the trees, Elizabeth snarled as she watched his horse leap across the sea of risen and broken tree roots that rose from beneath the ground before finally, with a snarl, the horse stumbled and fell forward, filling the air with a sickening snap as its head slammed against the floor and its neck was crushed under its own body weight, hurling the man screaming from its saddle. Cursing, he pulled himself to his feet, looked around at the forest and began to walk, his hand resting upon the handle of the sword he had resting against his belt.
Elizabeth was unnaturally silent as she followed him, a map of the landscape naturally folding out in her mind as she stalked him, calculating how long it would take him to walk back to the camp. He was a coward, he had delivered his message and now instead of returning to her husband for further orders he was simply fleeing the battlefield, fleeing from the enemy.
Elizabeth hated cowards…
“Who’s there?” the fat man called out, clumsily drawing his sword as he saw her emerge from the darkness, his trembling hand and brief look of surprise at the weight of the weapon being more than enough proof that the man had never fought before in his life.
“Leaving so soon?” she smiled at him, her voice soft and soothing yet filled with utter venom as she walked towards him, her expensive clothes shifting slightly as they caught a soft blow of wind that blew in from the north.
“Mrs.….Mrs. Von Hearing” the man stammered as he took a step back, shocked to see a woman in the middle of a chaos tainted forest, let alone wife of the chief commander. Yet, he never once moved to put away his sword as he watched her advance towards him, his natural instincts telling him that something was terribly wrong. “What are you doing here? You should be back at the encampment with the other women”
“Oh it’s far too boring there” she chuckled cruelly “But you haven’t answered my question…where are you going? The battle is back that way”
“Ah well you see...errr...your husband has ordered me to return to the camp because he…errr…has no further use for me and wants me to move to a safer location”
Elizabeth only grinned as she looked at him, her thin lips curling backwards to revel a row of pure white teeth, unnaturally sharp. A blind Orc would have been able to tell that the man was lying, his fear and uncertainty rising from him like a terrible stench.
“Is that so?” she finally whispered, taking another step towards him so that he could should have been able to feel her breath on his face, but he felt nothing “because you see I know my husband rather well…I would be glad to venture that I know him better then you do and I know that he would not have sent you to safety. Like myself he can tell that you are nothing more than a cowardly rat that doesn’t deserve to live and, even if he did like you, he wants as many people to die today as possible”
“He wants what?”
“Oh, I guess I’ve said to much…not that it will do you any good…your mine now”
The man whimpered in fear as she extended a hand and ran it across the brass armor plate that he wore across his front, running her fingers along the patterns in an act that could have been thought of as tender were it coming from anyone else.
A soft wind picked up again as a sudden wave of tiredness consumed the man, his legs wobbling as if he was having the life force sucked from him by her mere touch. The wind snarled as it blew through the loops in tree branches and roots, drowning out his scream as he looked down to see his hand whiter and shrink as if it was aging at impossible speeds. His entire body shook as it went through decades of aging in the space of a few seconds before finally his legs gave way and he fell to his knees, his eyes gazing up into Elizabeth’s eyes as though they were caught by some hypnosis. He tried to open his mouth but instead of sound an explosion of dust exploded from his mouth as his throat aged and crumbled into nothingness, his brain only remaining in function and his life remaining by the grip of some terrible black magic.
Slowly, Elizabeth leaned down and placed her mouth next to his ear, whispering softly the words of an enchantment that he couldn’t understand as the winds around the two blew even stronger, ripping leaves high into the air in a strangely beautiful dance above them as the terrified man felt his life force completely brake and his body exploded into a cloud of ash that blew over Elizabeth with a flash. With a flick of her slender hand, the dust flew away from her, leaving not a mark or scarp of dirt of her beautifully colored clothes.
She sighed as she looked up at the moon through a gap in the leaves above her as the winds of dark magic blew stronger and stronger, her mouth moving slowly without her even realizing it as she continued to recite the enchantment that Conjack had made her memorize time and time again. She groaned in utter boredom as she heard the howl of tormented spirits rise from the darkness before clicking her fingers and turning back towards where the sounds of battle were now slowly dying out, her mind drifting back towards the time that was now soon to be upon her.
Back in the civilian camp, the hooded figure rose slowly, snapping the book in his hands shut with a bang and turned towards the cart behind him. He could sense his master calling out to him as the final cannon shot sounded out from around him.
It was time…