War of the Words/Chapter 19

The darkness was filled with a sense of palpable evil. The unusual music had returned at sunset and it had everyone on edge. The very shadows seemed to jump alive.

Delnar tripled guard just to ease nerves, in some vague hope of facing off whatever menace stalked the night. The men he had sent to explore the Vandarian camp brought back disturbing news. The camp was utterly abandoned, yet equipment, clothing, even personal effects still remained. The enemy had apparently fled entirely, suddenly, and en masse. That was two days ago. In the time since, three of Delnar's scouting parties had vanished without a trace. Yesterday, Cerin had vanished when he went to explore the nearest village.

"Commander!" a knight said with alarm. "Someone wishes to see you."

"Who is it?" Delnar asked impatiently.

"I do not know, sir. His face is masked in darkness and he speaks very quietly. He says only that he knows something of the disappearances."

"Very well," Delnar said, on guard. "Show him in."

"As you wish, sir."

A short while later, the mysterious figure entered. He wore a dark robe, the cowl of which completely shadowed his face, and seemed to look at the floor consistently.

"Commander Delnar," the figure said in a low hiss. "Good evening, sir."

"Very little can be said to be good about this evening, traveler. Three of my scouting envoys have disappeared, as has a friend who happens to be the nephew of the royal vizier. Evil forces are abroad. If you know of them, please speak; your information would be most appreciated."

"An army of darkness gathers to wreak havoc on the world. Ostensibly on the side of the Dark Lord, the army wishes to bring life, and with it the fabric of all the world, to an end. Even now, the people fight them, but the menace continues to grow by the day, no, by the hour. I think you should see something commander: come with me to the front. I suggest you bring an armed escort. You may have need of its skills"

"Very well," Delnar sighed, not quite trusting this shadowy figure, but having no way to express that without risking his alienation.

Five minutes later, Delnar stood looking over the front line.

"Well, what am I supposed to see?"

"Look toward the burial site," the figure said, gesturing at the area where graves were being prepared for the dead.

Delnar looked and his blood froze nearly at once. All about, the gathered remains of the fallen Vandarians clawed their way out of the earth. Disembodied limbs writhed and crawled, seeking to be reunited with their lost bodies. Very incomplete semblances of Undead Wounded crawled around and a few began to stand.

"Had you not seen this, by the morning you would be dead before you even considered the source."

"What are they? What can we do?"

"Behold," the figure said simply. "The great evil befalls us. Of all the things you can do, the most vital would be to pray."