Here was the King of the Undead. The mighty King Astral. Sitting on his throne, made out of bones and iron, with a silk cushion. The room he sat in was gigantic, with many pillars supporting it. The air was dense and filled with death. There wasn't much light. The only light come from torches on the wall, and the big chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Their crystals where purple and black and it was decorated with the skulls of his fallen enemy's.
His castle was inhabited by many Undead, all under his command. The first were Zombies. Big and slow, but mighty strong. In both strength and endurance. One of them was Astral's son. Ourur, was what he was called, but on the battlefield, he was known as The Undying, since no one has ever found a way to permanently destroy him. It's not known if this is his own power, or the work from Astral.
The second group are Ghosts. Also slow, but unbeatable without magic. A fierce opponent to fight even for the strongest warriors, but aren't very loyal to their King. They will fight if they have to, but they mostly like to just dwell through the castle.
The third and final group are Vampires. Extremely fast, agile and strong, with a lot of stamina. Two of them are related to the King, but no one knows for sure how. Some speculate they are his son and daughter, others think they're cousins, but they are the only ones who know.
A small Goblin walked towards the King. The Goblins, just like the Ogres, had sought alliance with the great Undead King, in fear of the alliance on the other side.
'My lord, we have seized her in the battle, near the city of Varral.' the Goblin spoke, in an unpleasant voice, drenched with bloodlust. Something all Goblins had in their voice, since they were the Race bred for battle, in a forgotten time, long ago.
'That's wonderful. Tell the battalion that caught her, they can feast and drink as much as they want for the next three days. And about the girl... Get her a nice, cold, hard cell. In the deepest part of my dungeon. I will go and see her in a day or two. No one gives her anything, I want her completely isolated, understood?'
'Yes, my lord.' the Goblin answered. He bowed his head and walked away.
When the Goblin had left the room, the King started to laugh. Not loudly, but silent. A complacent smirk, like only a real evil person could do, when he knows his plan is working perfectly fine. And who could blame him. He had faced a lot of setbacks lately. A dozen of his battalions had been whipped out completely by this new guy. The only thing he knew was that he has only one arm, he attacks both sides' army's, and he calls himself the Judge.
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On the other side of the continent, in a palace of her own, was Queen Ry. The most beautiful being one could lay his eyes upon. Hair as white gold satin and eyes matching the blue of Winter's deepest frosts. She was the Queen of the Elves, the sworn enemies of the Undead.
She was walking through the castle garden. All the flowers were blooming, especially the roses, both white and red, looked stunning. She was accompanied by Pontiff Felice, a high priestess of the Human Realm. Ry's husband and King of Elves is leading the charge against the Army of Goblins and Zombies trying to invade the Sacred Forest of Baerule.
The Elves, Men and many of the Halfblood had made an alliance against the Undead, and everyone who fought alongside them. The Elves were masters in every technique you could master. Forging, horse riding, fighting, magic, music, and so on. But they sometimes lacked the will to do something about the problems they faced. Not because they're weak, but because they want to avoid a battle if possible.
The Human's on the other hand looked problems right in the face and spat on them. Trying to overcome them at all costs. Their honor and courage was unparalleled. Humans didn't fight with magic, they fought with, what they called ''Divine Powers'', strong enough to withstand most magic spells anyone could cast. Their Emperor August is the only one, alongside his younger brother, the Black Knight Emyre, to stand his own against the Great Ogers, in a non-magic battle.
The Halfbloods were divided in multiple tribes. There are Centaurs: half Men, half horse. Fexes: half Men, half cat. And the Avems: half Men, half bird. There exist other Halfbloods, but they are allies of the Undead, like the Werewolfs and the Tauri.
As Ry and Felice are talking with each other, an Elven woman walks up to them. 'Lady Ry,' she starts, but suddenly bursts into tears.
'What's going on, Ella?' the Queen asks patiently.
'I-i-it's about the battalions fighting for Varral.' Ella answers.
The Elven Queen, who usually smiles, gets a grim look on her face. 'What happened.?' she asks, more sternly then she actually meant.
'They were doing quite well, driving the enemy back. But out of a sudden, multiple battalions got smashed with some unstoppable power from above. The Undead Army took this opportunity to attack them in a surprise.' the woman started crying a lot louder, but she went on: 'Only three warriors, out of the 16 battalions you send made it over the Fords of Aryea. The others are either dead or worse...' she stopped to sob, but it made for a dramatic pause, 'captured.'
'The-the power from above. Of whom did it came?' Felice asked, seeing, and knowing, the clear shock going through the Queen.
'They don't know. It came out of nowhere, destroying most of the men.' the woman answered.
Queen Ry, didn't listen to the question, or the answer. She only thought about her.
Pontiff Felice thought, and knew who did this. They don't know much about him, only that he has wings, attacks both good and evil, and calls himself... the Judge.
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