For the King

Mikael

Prince Rhett had given the order. We were to hunt down the dragon and it's fabled rider. I look around at the men in my squad. These men had riden with me into the mouth of hell itself and none had made it out alive. After all that what did they get? Brought back to serve against the King. It was infathomable. We who given all we had in the defense of the King were now to be turned against him on the word of some filthy necromancer.
A filthy necromancer who controlled our lives, the only thing we had left. I gathered my weapons as i heard the crackle of wraiths teleporting through the woods toward the downed dragon. I stood, looked up and teleported high into the sky. As i fell i looked for the new formed clearing created by the dragons fall and teleported just inside the woods nearby. As soon as we were all there we began raining arrows into the clearing. No order was need as these men were in life as they were in death, true brothers in arms. As soon as our arrows were spent we drew our various weapons of choice, some elegant, some truly vicious in purpose and presentation.

Dimlir~

Rain pounded the ground, echoing through his head. The sky was visible through a canopy of trees that had been blown away from their fall. Dimlir tried to stand up but couldn't feel anything below the waist. His head was spinning and the smell of blood wafted past his nose.

"...Sylar..."he coughed,"what happened?" Dimlir propped himself on one elbow and felt the dizziness subside for the time being. Sylar didn't reply. Dimlir shoved him with a weak hand. Still there was no response.

Pressure. Dimlir felt a huge pressure on his stomach and breathing was becoming a difficult task. He realized with astonished horror that Sylar was closer than he had thought. On top of him laid his two ton dragon, unmoving. He pushed Sylar again, harder this time. If the Vescar had any brains at all they were already on their way to kill off the threat that had flown through the sky seconds ago, and he knew that.

If he couldn't wake Sylar up in time to escape he'd have to leave him, and he didn't even know if he was alive or not. There was the crunch of branches coming from the underbrush to his right. "Sylar,"He hissed in a whisper punching the dragon. Hands shaking and heart racing, he struggled to crawl free of the dragon's weight. His legs were broken, he was sure of that. A branch was nearby and Dimlir reached as far as his arm would let him. I just need to grab...it....

The tips of his fingers just brushed the bark. A whistling sound grew until arrows shot to the ground all around him. One sliced his arm as it tumbled and at least a dozen others lodged themselves into Sylar's scaled flesh causing the dragon to moan.

Dimlir was almost free, tugging on the branch with all his might. The rain was beginning to create a pool of water around the clearing. His legs were completely numb, but he still scraped at the forming mud, with his free hand.

The kings men must be near...

Alexander:
They arrived onto a clearing, just in time to see the third rain of arrows, decending upon the fallen dragon. Alexander heaved himself off the wagon and stopped at the edge of the clearing. He lifted up his staff.
Blue, white flames surged out and burned the arrows into dust. He signaled the men behind him to help, the rider.

Okay, I'm adding new rules, please pm me if this creates a problem for you.

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Mikael

I watched as meny of the arrows turned to dust but a few struck their mark. The Kings men we here, we all knew it but that didn't stop us hoping around the clearing and killing as many as we could. I heard the crackling once again and the sound of bones breaking and battle cried cut off. I stood and crackled into the fray.

Jaskar Errant

He rode into the clearing behind Alexander. When he saw the arrows burning up in the air, his first thought was, Wraiths. He leapt forward from his horse's back, the sudden motion sending his steed galloping away in terror.

He landed in front of Sylar and Dimlir, swords spinning up in front of him to block numerous arrows that flew towards them. "Why don't you show yourselves, cowards?" He called out in amocing tone, "I'd like to see whether any of you can best me in swordsmanship!"

He knew that there would be none such among them, even as teleporters. He had been honing his natural ability for these weapons for a long time now, and it would take more than a skirmisher to defeat him.

One tried anyway, appearing behind him, shortsword stabbing for his back. Jaskar blocked it with one of his without even turning, exchanging multiple blows with the poorly trained soldier in that manner before finally disarming him. Then the scimitar pierced the Vescar's stomach and pulled him around to be in front of Jaskar. The second sword swung up, cutting through the dead man's unprotected neck wihout effort and sending his head several paces away.

Jaskar turned a slow circle, arms outstretched as though offering a free shot, although he was ready to block anywhere about him in a moment. "Come on, no one else? I'm disappointed!"

Prince Rhett

The main Vescar column was still well behind the Wraith squads he'd ordered forward, and he judges that the teleporters would have to fall back sooner or later. Even with their skills, they should know that they would stand no vance against a full blown army.

**I've got nothing else for him**

Mikael

Errant. I thought, seeing him stood arms outstretched. You foolish boy. I teleported behind him and swept his legs out before hitting him in the head with the pommel of my sword. He would be down for a while and he would have a cracking headache when he woke but he swould be ok.
"Men fall back!" I roared and as one we were gone back to the safety of our lines.

Jaskar Errant

He awoke the sounds of boots crunching on gravel, eyes opening to a bleary image of gleaming gold armour. He cursed silently at the memory of what had happened. He'd fallen for such a predictable wraith tactic. Teleporting behind someone was the oldest trick in their book.

But he hadn't expected one to use it straight after Jaskar had killed one attempting that little trick. Well, he'd be ready for it next time. Next time, when a wraith teleported at him, he simply whip his swords about in his perfect defense movements. And if a foolish wraith had moved himself within Jaskar's arm reach, he'd sever
the bastard's ugly head.

He could see some of the king's men helping pull Dimlir out from under Sylar. The man ad his dragon were alive, but both were clearly hurting.

"Jaskar." The general said, "What the hell happened here?"

"Wraith ambush." Jasmar replied sulkily, holding his aching head. Then he laughed, "Even when the Vescar attack me from behind they can't hurt me! I really am invincible!" there were a few more laughs, and then he found his horse and they began riding through the forest once more.

**I'll post for Rhett later.**

Maradomin:

He looked displeased. He was displeased.
He was talking to the prince: "Why didn't you only send the wraiths? That ambush cost us more than we payed for."
"They didn't get any major kills, just a few normal vescar."
Maradomin grunted "Yes and those vescar are my brothers, the wraiths aren't."
"You resemble more a wraith than a normal foot soldier."
"And yet I am not neither." he stared at the prince, "When will they bee here?"
"They'll reach the stronghold before dawn."
Maradomin almost smiled, "I see."

***********************************************_

Alexander:

He looked at the fallen rider, he was obviously in pain. They were in his wagon with a few healers. The dragon was on a wagon behind them.
Alexander bended over Dimlir, "This will take the edge off the pain," he whispered to him. He put his hands over him and mumbled something.
The pain in Dimlir, started to flow into Alexanders hands. Dimlir let out a gasp of joy.
Alexanders hand was burning with the pain "Bring the bottle," he hissed to one of the healers. The female healer brought him a stone bottle, and Alexander dumped the burning pain into it.
He slumped onto his back, "You can start healing him now."

Prince Rhett

He didn't think he'd ever understand the ankou's bizarre sense of allegiances. How could he feel an attachment to regular zombie Vescar and not the more powerful ones, like the wraiths. How did magic change anything there? Mikael and his soldiers were still just as dead as the rest of them.

"If I didn't know better, demon, I'd say you were looking forward to fighting the mortals." Rhett smiled to himself under his helmet.

Maradomin grunted in response, apparently having decided that their conversation was over. Rhett continued on regardless, "Why would that be? Vengeance for your newly deceased Vescar friends? A desire for a few new friends? Or," he turned to look at Maradomin, "Do you just like killing as much as I do?"

While waiting for his answer, he called out to the skeletal lieutenant who had been acting as his aide lately, "Wellan! Can you find me Mikael? Let him know that I want a full report of what we achieved today, and what the casualties were."

Wellan nodded, marching away to find the wraith. Rhett already knew that they had lost more than the enemy, but it
didn't really matter. Zelar could always summon replacements for them when they killed a few of the humans. Like Maradomin, the prince was finding that he could barely wait for dawn.