As the fallen soldiers' forms solidified, the air around Lord Mordian grew heavy with anticipation. But as the spectral soldiers took on physical form, another phenomenon unfolded – a symphony of murmuring voices emerged from all around the graveyard. It was as if the very earth itself held secrets, and the voices of the long-rested spirits had been awakened by the magic that now pulsed through the night.Lord Mordian's heart quickened at the sound, his gaze darting from one grave to another. The tired voices carried a chorus of emotions, ranging from confusion to curiosity, as if the spirits themselves were awakening from a deep slumber.Driven by a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension, Lord Mordian rushed towards the nearest grave to him. His fingers brushed against the coarse earth, his heart racing as he hoped to find evidence of success.And there, before his eyes, stood a full-fleshed form of a soldier. His armor gleamed dully in the moonlight, and his eyes held a mixtur
Lord Barthine approached Chief Rorak and whispered his intentions. "Chief Rorak, we must act swiftly. Go with these five men and prepare five large wagons. We shall transport these soldiers to the solitary house within the woods that we had prepared in case they returned to us."Chief Rorak nodded, his expression grave. "I shall see to it immediately."The guards set to work, quickly organizing the necessary resources for the soldiers' transport. Meanwhile, Lord Barthine addressed the giant soldier with a reassuring tone. "Honored warrior, we shall provide a place where you and your comrades can find solace and sustenance. A quiet haven in the woods awaits you."The giant soldier's gaze softened, and he inclined his head in gratitude. "Thy kindness knows no bounds, Lord Barthine Loust. We shall await your guidance."As the wagons were readied and the soldiers prepared to depart the graveyard, a sense of solemn purpose hung in the air. The fallen warriors, reawakened from their slumbe
The chief servant's voice echoed through the corridors, guiding the reawakened soldiers to a grand dining hall. The hall was adorned with intricate tapestries, softly lit by ornate chandeliers that cast a warm glow over the space.Rows of long wooden tables stretched across the room, set meticulously with gleaming silverware, fine china, and goblets filled with rich wines. Each table could seat four hundred, a testament to the meticulous preparations made by the Lord Barthine Loust and the Domus's inhabitants.The soldiers entered the hall with a sense of wonder, their eyes widening at the sight of the lavish spread before them. Their stomachs rumbled audibly, evidence of the hunger they had carried with them through the ages.Lord Barthine Loust, Lord Mordian, and Chief Rorak stood among them, their presence a reminder of the connection between the past and the present. They took their seats, interspersed among the soldiers, an unspoken gesture of camaraderie and unity.The reawa
By dawn the next day, as the sun began to cast its warm glow over the Domus in the woods. The reawakened soldiers emerged from their slumber, their spirits rejuvenated by the feast and camaraderie of the previous night. With a renewed sense of purpose, they readied themselves for the day ahead.The soldiers, dressed in the garments provided by the Domus, made their way through the corridors. Their footsteps echoed through the stone passages as they were led to a new destination: the vast armory of the Domus.Upon reaching the armory, their eyes widened in awe and excitement. The room was an arsenal of weaponry, a treasure trove of different types of arms and armor. Swords, spears, axes, bows, and an array of other weapons adorned the walls, gleaming in the soft light.The soldiers exchanged eager glances, their anticipation evident. Some of them couldn't help but grin at the sight before them, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of wielding such powerful instruments of comb
Amid the lingering echoes of their conversation, a voice rose from among the fallen soldiers, a voice tinged with both curiosity and concern. "Milord Mordian," the soldier spoke, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before them, "what if these negotiations falter? What if the Quanians and we Bauthinians cannot find common ground?"Lord Mordian's expression shifted, a shadow crossing his features. He looked out at the armory, the weapons gleaming against the stone walls, and then turned his gaze back to the soldier who had posed the question. He understood the weight of their words—the implications of a breakdown in negotiations.In his heart, Lord Mordian couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation. While he had brought back these veteran soldiers, he questioned whether their presence alone would be enough to turn the tide of the war. The Quanian forces outnumbered them, and victory seemed uncertain.However, before he could voice his thoughts, Gorloth stepped forward with a deter
Four days later, a sense of impending doom hung heavy in the air of Prodloust as news reached the city that the Quanians have begun marching towards the city to lay siege on it.This was due to the failed negotiations between King Lauihnio and King Brothlander, however it cast a shadow over the city. The efforts to avoid further bloodshed had come to naught, and upon Lord Barthine Loust's order, the men at arms braced themselves for the defense of their beloved city.Upon the towering battlements, about four hundred and fifty archers took their positions, their bows strung and ready to rain arrows down on any advancing forces. Each archer's gaze was steely and focused, a testament to their determination to protect their homes and loved ones.Strategically positioned alongside the archers were long-ranged catapults, trebuchets, and ballistae. These formidable siege engines stood as silent sentinels, waiting to unleash their deadly payloads upon any enemy who dared to approach the ci
As tension thickened in Prodloust, Lord Mordian's demeanor shifted. Despite being a seasoned war veteran, this was the first time he stood on the brink of defending his homeland, Bauthinia. Anxiety gripped him as he realized the magnitude of what lay ahead. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, a silver masterpiece glinting with a touch of nervous energy.Amidst the palpable anticipation, Lord Mordian leaned closer to Lord Barthine Loust, his voice a low murmur meant only for the baron's ears. "Barthine Loust," he said, his tone tinged with concern, "you should seek safety. As the baron of Prodloust, your protection is paramount."Lord Barthine Loust nodded solemnly, acknowledging the wisdom in Lord Mordian's words. Accompanied by a small retinue of guards, he began his descent from the ramparts, leaving Lord Mordian to his preparations.With a deep breath, Lord Mordian turned back to the unfolding scene before him. He drew his sword with a swift, fluid motion, the sil
The cacophony of battle reached a crescendo as the exchange of arrows between the Bauthinian and Quanian forces continued with unyielding determination. The sky was painted with the arcs of deadly projectiles, each arrow a messenger of death and defiance.The defenders of Bauthinia, knowing the importance of maintaining their archers' position, worked tirelessly to reinforce their fortifications. They scrambled to bring more bricks, stones, and timber, building makeshift barriers to shield the archers from the incoming arrows.Across the field, the Quanian archers adjusted their strategy, seeking to find gaps in the Bauthinian defense. They aimed for the weak points in the battlements, targeting the areas with fewer defenders and where the makeshift cover was not as effective.As the sun hung low on the horizon, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield, the archers on both sides continued to pour arrows into the air. The sky was a storm of wooden shafts, each one carrying the ho