Necro (standard:fantasy, 2673 words)
Author: Marty	Added: Jul 02 2005	Views/Reads: 3366/2253	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is the unfinished prolouge from my novel. Please rate it.

PORLOUGE 

It had started to rain heavy on the Morale Fields leaving a curtain of
grey rain in its wake. Droplets made a loud splash that echoed through 
the evening air as it collided with muddy ground. The ground was full 
of deep water-filled hoof prints and human prints that had gradually 
overflowed with the small explosions of rain. Poached ground stretched 
ten yards north and south, east and west. It had formed a once muddy 
battleground where a historic battle commenced, but now it was a water 
lodged grave for the dead. Bodies of men, woman and animal alike filled 
the square of brutality. The once clear Narrow River that ran between 
the field, that was the only passable borderline between Pern kingdom 
and Evil Ruins Of Shun, was now bloodstained from the hallow ones 
crossing. Some broken arrows floated down the blood-red river, but some 
sailed down on once human corpses and body limbs. There was a worse 
scene on the bloodstained battlefield that spread out in front of a 
large army of men. Arrows had punctured the muddy ground as well as 
sliver and bronze bucklers and an array of weapons. Blood spattered 
long swords stuck up right or flat beside the human, or other beings 
that had wielded them. More bodies covered the field; some of them left 
a dark-red blood trail that flowed from body to body. But other bodies 
made no blood canals as they were to decomposed for blood, if any 
liquid to flow trough there once perfect bodies. Headless Bodies were 
being swallowed up by the muck, or were stampeded on by human and horse 
feet that pushed them further in their watery graves. The army that 
overlooked this horrid site were far from disgusted at what they saw, 
instead they cheered and shouted blood-lust roars in to the black and 
red evening sky. One soldier in particular was standing in front of the 
large army of swordsmen, spearmen, knights on horseback and archers. He 
was also on horseback. He was the most noticeable of the army, as he 
wore the only golden armour, from his feet up to his helm that made him 
stand out like a cloud in the sky. His armour shone even in the grey 
dull rain, leaving an impressive and encouraging light in his comrade's 
eyes. There was a crescent of a long tower and two swords crossed to 
form an X over the tower. This image was on all of the soldier's 
breastplates or brown leather armour and sliver bucklers. The important 
man also wore a black in colour ring mail underneath his amazing 
armour. A brown leather scabbard with a golden fire like pattern on it 
was in crested from the point to the middle of the scabbard. The 
scabbard was attached to a large black leather belt that was wrapped 
around the man's waist. His black stallion like the rest of the horses 
had a brown saddle, which now had bloodstains on most of them. But this 
mans horse had the only gold and red cape around her torso. It now had 
mud incrusted on all sides of it. The man trusted his long sliver sword 
into the air and the army of soldiers raised their swords and shields 
also and gave a monstrous Cheer in response to him. Through clinched 
teeth under his golden helm and mask, and through his tightening grip 
on the handle of his mighty sword he spoke, in response to the great 
cheer his comrades gave him. “This sword has not seen a better day than 
this day,” The man shouted over the deafening rain that fell. The other 
soldiers gave another glorious roar and then silenced to let the man 
speak again. All eyes where glued on this one man. Pride and excitement 
where shown in there watery eyes. “We have made a new chapter in our 
glorious history today and nobody will forget what has happened here, 
on these plains, on the Morale fields.” He paused to let the sentence 
surge through his comrade's cheers and howls. “Your son's sons will 
remember this day and remember you, you who lead this army to its first 
victory over the dead, the hollow ones.” He paused again to the 
deafening sound of the men's cheering. The cheering sounded 
disorientated over the exploding rain, but none the less the army of 
men cheered even though some of the men couldn't make out what this 
important man preached, but they knew it was something to be proud of. 
“And I say lead, my brothers instead of follow because all of you are 
important then the next solider and the next captain....” He paused 
once more but not for the sound of cheering, instead it was to take in 
a big breath of moistened air. “And kings.” He shouted as hard as he 
could. The army of men roared and cheered, shaking their swords and 
shields about in a flurry of sliver and bronze. “Yes my brothers yes. 
But our task is not complete...” he paused again and turned his stead 
around and pointed his long sword towards a dark group of about twelve 
of the dead, a few yards down from the army's position awkwardly wading 
waist deep across the narrow river. There moans where heard through the 
lashing rain as the army of men silenced and starred. The moans where 
like sharp razors cutting each and every soldiers ear, a familiar 
noise, which they despised dearly. A noise they remembered as the one 


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