Terrible Odds

A frown formed on Uriel's face. She stared out into the battlefield, and watched these new enemies storm down the hills to join the fighting. No less than a hundred new lizard folk had joined the fray. Although they did not have a large number like the Allosaur or Kompos, these new enemies had large bodies that made them a threat to be noticed.

Uriel stood at a safe distance. Far to avoid immediate battle, but near enough to properly witness what took place. From her spot, Uriel observed how these new enemies fought.

First, Uriel watched the Brachius, these giant lizard folk with long and thick necks and tails. They stomped through their opponents, crushing them like how a bear would crush a wolf. With a swing of their tails, they sent Chamael and exiles soaring into the air with ease.

Next, Uriel turned her eyes towards the Triceran, these greenish lizard folk with three horns and a plate around their heads. They charged recklessly like bulls, ramming down anyone unfortunate to stand in their path. Their enemies found themselves feeling three holes in their bodies.

A curse whispered from Uriel's lips. Her fists clenched and shook. She expected a few clans to provide the Allosaur with some assistance in battle, but never did she anticipate an army of giants. She had fought large foes before, but never this many at once.

"This seems like a problem," Sonpra muttered, stepping forward. His eyes shifted about, but his voice carried a grave, and yet calm tone. "I did not expect two Greater Clans to fight with the Allosaur, especially the Triceran."

"What exactly is their relation with the Allosaur?" Uriel asked, raising a brow.

Sonpra snorted and flicked his tongue out. "Not well," he answered. "The Triceran and Allosaur have always been bitter rivals. The Brachius have nothing against the Allosaur, but have no love for them either."

"Yet here they both are, helping another Greater Clan," Uriel grumbled, glaring back at the battle.

"Life is full of surprises," Jotun grunted, crossing his arms. "My lady, perhaps we ought to send more warriors into battle? The Vanguard seems to be divided in two now."

"I know," Uriel growled, stomping back and forth. "But first, we should reduce their numbers. Mycelia, it is time to rain fire upon them."

The Sightless Sister gave a feral grin. "Finally," Mycelia sighed. Pressing her knuckles, Mycelia turned over to her reptilian apprentices, who stood willing and ready to cast a spell.

Having heard the command, the apprentices approached. They took a steady breath, and focused the flow of power in their veins. A few counts passed. With one last exhale, they raised their staffs, and opened their mouths recite an incantation. However, before a single word could leave their mouths, a sharp whistle shrilled from the far end of the field.

From the enemy encampment, a large sphere of fire soared. A faint trail of smoke followed behind it. The fireball flew several feet into the air. Eventually, the fireball descended. It fell faster and faster towards the center of Uriel's vanguard, like a star falling from the heavens.

Before long, it finally made impact. It happened before any of the warriors could react. A large explosion shattered within the Vanguard's ranks, sending several lizard folk into the sky.

Fire and body parts rained all around, as a thick cloud of smoke began to cover the battlefield. Warriors shrieked and screamed, either engulfed with fire or, or missing a good part of their bodies. Several warriors dropped to the ground, and rolled about the grass, desperately trying to extinguish the flames roasting their scales.

Disarray and panic almost immediately consumed Uriel's warriors. Their formation slowly crumbled, as morale slowly dropped. Unfocused and confused, several of the vanguard found themselves easy prey for the Allosaur and Kompos, who began to push them back.

"W-what is this?!" Uriel yelled, both confused and furious. "Do they have siege weapons?!"

"No, this is clearly magic, my lady!" Mycelia huffed, sounding as if she wanted to deny it. "It must be from that shaman of theirs! Keshrak is his name, if I recall!"

Uriel's frown deepened. This single spell had worsened the already troubling situation. "We must take hold of the battle!" she declared. "Mycelia, use your magic to-!"

Before Uriel could finish her sentence, the whistling sound shrilled once more. Rather than just a single burning sphere, several burning projectiles flew from the enemy encampment, towards the vanguard.

Uriel's eyes gaped wide. With a single drop of sweat running down her face. She froze for a moment, but soon found her nerves. Frantically, she turned to her sorceress and roared. "Mycelia, we need a spell, NOW!"

"Y-yes, my lady!" Mycelia stuttered aloud.

The sorceress did not wait for her apprentices to provide her with additional power. Pulling the energy around her body, Mycelia raised her arms and pointed to the sky. Then with a loud and forceful scream, she unleashed her own blazing orbs.

Although not as large as the enemy's, Mycelia's spell flew like arrows. Her magic struck every burning projectile that the enemy had unleashed, causing them to explode in midair. Fire and ember fell from the sky and rained upon the entire battlefield, singing warriors from both sides.

A thin veil of smoke and darkness covered the top of the battlefield. This exchange of magic went on, until the enemy had finally ceased releasing fire.

Mycelia dropped to one knee. She wheezed and panted quite heavily. Perspiration dropped from her face and watered the grass. Usually, this kind of spell would not have caused that much stress. However, the immediate need to use magic had forced her to exert more energy than necessary.

"Good work, Mycelia," Uriel praised hurriedly. "However, we must put an end to this, before that shaman performs another trick. Mycelia, strike the enemy encampment."

"As you command, my lady," Mycelia replied, still catching her breath.

"No, you can't!" Sonpra strongly objected. With his arms spread, he stepped before Mycelia, in hopes to prevent her from doing so.

"What are you doing?!" Uriel sneered, pulling the chieftain by the shoulder. "If we do not attack them now, they may use more lethal magic upon us!"

"You do not understand!" the Chamael chieftain replied, pulling himself away. "That is the Frita Clan's village! Their clansmen are still in there! Several females and infants will die, if you rain your flames upon it!"

Uriel's expression softened. She stared back at the other side, remembering that the village did not actually belong to the Allosaur, but to another clan that did not even participate in the fight.

Was this part of Keshrak's plan? Did they purposely position themselves at such a spot, believing that she would not use magic to devastate a village of bystanders?

Uriel clenched her teeth and cursed aloud. She wanted victory, and she wanted it now. However, she was not so desperate or bloodthirsty that she would sacrifice noncombatants for the sake of victory.

"Damned fiend!" she hissed, kicking the ground. "We need to turn the tide of battle into our favor. Jotun, can your Blood Crows rain arrows upon the enemy, without harming our own warriors?"

Jotun smiled confidently. "My lady, we're elves," he replied. "Such a thing would be all too simple for us."

"Good," Uriel sighed, sounding more relaxed. "Thin the enemy lines. Our warriors need to regroup."

"Understood, my lady," Jotun responded with a nod. The Blood Crow leader turned to his people, and signaled them to attack.

Simultaneously, the elves drew their arrows and pointed at the sky. It did not take a moment's breath for them to aim. Before the count of two, the elves released their arrows, and sent them flying towards the battlefield. True to their skill, not a single one of Uriel's warriors got caught by the arrows.

Several more Kompos died from this attack. Few Allosaur fell, while others defiantly shrugged off the arrows on their bodies.

The Triceran and Brachius, on the other hand, hardly felt a thing. Even with several arrows on their bodies, they continued to endure and fight. One or two had perhaps fallen, but the rest treated it as if nothing had touched them. Troublesome foes, these Brachius and Triceran proved to be.

Uriel clicked her tongue with frustration. "There a still too many," she growled, as she readied her mace. "I will take the middle guard to provide further support. Jotun, continue to release your arrows at the enemy."

"What about us, my lady?" Mycelia asked, finally catching her breath. "Shall I use my magic on them now?"

"No, stand ready," Uriel commanded. "That shaman may attempt to use another spell. I want you to fend off any magic that he may attempt to use on us."

"By your command, my lady," Mycelia replied.

Uriel stood before the middle guard, ready to lead them into battle. Her heart beat fervently. It had been a while since she actually participated in a large battle such as this. For the past few weeks, she had simply watched as the vanguard easily took care of the enemy.

Swallowing both her excitement and anxiety, Uriel looked straight ahead. She raised her mace high into the air. However, just as she was about to order the charge, a feral voice cried from nearby.

From the east, two more hordes of lizard folk appeared. One of them had scales of fuchsia, as well as feathers sprouting on the back of their heads. The other horde had pale yellow scales, with sharp beaks and skulls that looked like stone. Unlike the Brachius and Triceran, these two other warrior hordes appeared smaller, and moved much faster.

"Those are the Raptus and Pachy, the two remaining Greater Clans of the land!" Sonpra exclaimed frantically.

Greater fear and dread gripped the hearts of Uriel's lizard folk. Despair fell upon their faces. None of them had bothered to hide it. Two more enemies had arrived. Two more clans that rivalled the strength and power of the one enemy that had threatened them. As it stood, the Ovoo, Chamael and exiles now found themselves fighting far more than they had expected.

Uriel also felt her heart sinking a little bit. She had allowed her guard to fall. As much as she wanted to blame someone else for this misfortune, she knew better than to behave in such an unfitting manner.

"Jotun order a volley upon these wretches!" Uriel commanded, mustering whatever willpower she still had in her belly.

Jotun gave the command. Arrows flew towards these new enemies. Few fell. The rest dodged and sped past the arrows, displaying speed that would have made horses look like tortoises in comparison.

"Well, it seems the Blood Crows will finally be fighting head on," Jotun remarked, preparing his swords.

Uriel sniggered with frustration. She bit her lip, as she watched these new foes draw closer. As she stared, she felt a bit of sunlight hit her eyes. Even with the smoke from the flames, the stench of blood and death, the sun continued to radiate upon the land. It almost felt like a sickening smile, enjoying the bloodbath that took place on the field.

Closing her eyes, she quietly recited a prayer. After giving a few words of faith, she turned her eyes to the coming warriors. Uriel had fought many battles, faced many creatures, and survived many dangers. Would this battle be the one that would take her life? Uriel did not know the answer, but she did often ask this question.

"Mycelia," Uriel addressed. She spoke in the common tongue. None of the lizard folk could understand her. "If I fall in this battle, I want you to use your magic to help our forces retreat."

"It won't come to that, my lady," Mycelia frowned. "You are Overlord. You will live to see the next day."

"You can count on our strength, my lady," Jotun then added, flourishing swords in both hands. "The Blood Crows and I will show these lizards that there are bigger monsters out there."

At that moment, Uriel felt a strange calm take hold of her chest. She gave a soft smile and said, "Thank you."

Stepping forward, Uriel raised her mace and pointed it towards the new enemy. "The enemy is upon us!" she declared. "Go forth and fight, warriors! They are here to take your lives! Show them that your lives are no to be taken so easily!"

Her warriors bellowed in response to her words. They raised and rattled their spears, and pounded their chests. Despite their bold cry and actions, they had a shakiness to their voice.

Uriel murmured. She could not blame them for being discouraged. Regardless, she needed to keep a strong front. For if she couldn't, then how would they follow?

She tightly held the handle of her mace, twisting the leather a little bit. With one last war cry, she planted her foot down and launched herself forward. Soon after, the middle guard followed.

The company of lizard folk raced past their leader. A jolt of electricity ran through their veins. They gripped their weapons, and let out a furious roar of desperation. Soon, Uriel and her middle guard collided with the Raptus and Pachy clans.

The entire battle raged. Blood and dirt spilled, as both sides viciously gave everything they had to achieve victory. Voices of fury, fear and fervent furor cried noisily, like a confused choir trying to sing several songs altogether.

"Die, monsters!" one Ovoo yelled, as he thrust his spear.

"I will survive this!" a Kompos whimpered, after seeing a companion die in front of his eyes.

"So much blood to spill!" an Allosaur laughed, standing proudly on the body of his latest kill.

Arrows flew from the distance, while magic would occasionally clash in the air. Never before had there been a battle so great and terrible like this amongst the clans.

Uriel had never fought in anything like this either. Such tense savagery took place all around her. Guts spilled onto the ground, as mouth chomped and tore out chunks of flesh. Any regular human would have fainted at the repulsive amount of gore and viscera displayed in the battle.

Vultures began to circle in the sky. Their eyes shimmered, while their beaks almost let out a smile. A grand feast would soon be presented to them.

Uriel and her forces fought with everything they had. They endured until the sun rose at its highest. By that time, the tide of the battle soon leaned towards one side. Despite their equipment, training, and support from the elves, Uriel's forces found themselves slowly being overpowered by the five Greater Clans.

Morale dropped further. More and more warriors, particularly the volunteers, found themselves paralyzed with fear and regret. A few even attempted to desert the battlefield, only to be chased down and killed from behind.

Even Jotun and Sonpra found themselves fighting a battle of attrition, as they desperately fought off any warrior that had managed to slip past the middle and vanguards.

With a swing of her mace, Uriel broke the beak of a Pachy warrior. Not taking a moment to relish her kill, Uriel continued to her next adversary. She took one step forward, only to find herself limping a little.

Discomfort and pain pinched her joints and muscles. Blood trickled down from an injury she had received, on her right shoulder. Fatigue ate some of her strength, making her armor and weapon feel much heavier than usual. Perspiration and dirt covered her face.

Still, Uriel pressed on. She exerted herself to fight harder. Uriel ran right towards the enemy, striking down whoever dared to challenge her. She proved to be a monster amongst these monsters. She had no scales or claws, yet dealt just as much pain as any of these lizard folk.

"Do not give in!" Uriel implored, as her warriors desperately tried to fight back.

"Die, you fangless demon!" a Pachy warrior hollered. Two others accompanied him from the many others that stood present. They swung their clubs violently and recklessly, hoping to get a lucky shot.

Under normal circumstances, Uriel would have easily fended off against the three of them by herself. Unfortunately, even Uriel had her limits in the battlefield, especially with her current body.

The Overlord avoided the first few fatal blows, and successfully crack one's skull open. However, upon delivering the blow, she received a fierce strike against the stomach. Her armor protected her from anything fatal, but she still found herself stumbling back in pain. Uriel inspected her equipment and found a blunt dent.

Uriel continued fighting a little longer, but the exhaustion and pain had finally begun taking its toll on her body. Before long, Uriel found herself crawling on the ground, barely able to even get back on one foot.

"Demon, I shall put an end to you!" the Pachy warrior declared, approaching with his club ready to end her life.

"My lady!" Mycelia cried out from her spot. She attempted to cast a spell, but soon found herself drawing her daggers against a few enemies.

Uriel growled. Her vision blurred. Everything darkened a little, as the sounds around her became vague and slow. Raising her head, she found the warrior already standing before her.

At that moment, Uriel watched her life flash before her eyes. Every distant and fond memory quickly appeared, slowly leading up the current events.

As this happened, one thing came to Uriel's mind. This was it. This would be the end. This was the place where she was finally going to die. She still had so much she wanted to do, but could not find a way to escape this predicament.

Uriel huffed and stared silently at the ground, slowly accepting her defeat and end. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, waiting for it to all end.

Suddenly, something sparked in her head. A memory of a time long ago rattled her. A memory of a great battle between two warriors, within a massive vault of gold and endless treasure. Such skill and fearful magic that would have made armies look weak, and fortresses useless. Yet, this memory did not belong to her, but to a life that existed centuries before even her grandparents.

At first, Uriel found herself vexed by this memory. Where did it come from? Then, she remembered the day she had entered the treasury of Nul Hunur, when she had removed the weapon from the suit of armor, and obtained a fragment of her predecessor's memory; the memory of the last Overlord.

From this one foreign memory, an endless stream of knowledge flooded her mind, and entered her veins, awakening of the great and unimaginable power that she possessed.

"Time to die, demon," the Pachy warrior declared, raising his club for a finishing blow.

"That is right…," Uriel muttered calmly. "It is time to die…"

The Pachy warrior brought down his club with all his might. A loud thud echoed. Blood spilled. Everyone froze. Everyone fell silent. All eyes turned to one direction. Jaws dropped and eyes gaped. Something had happened. Something that shook the very fiber of every living creature that stood present in the field.