It was a cold autumn morning; the sky was still orange, much like the leaves on the trees deep in the woodland, and far in the distance towards the mountain chain, a familiar figure in a hooded dark cloak emerged from the cavern entrance between the two large stones.

  And as a dry leaf waved on the wind, it fell on Nuula's gloved hand, and she gently crumbled it with her fingers. She was clearly no longer an exile, as it was evident by the fact that she returned from the underground city beneath Nal'Gorah, and now she was free to go wherever she pleased, as long as she remained in her human form, as not to alert the humanity about the existence of the Gorugolm.

  And after a while, as the ur'gluns dragged the dead bodies of the men to the ruins of Lindenrow that they recently turned into their own residence, Nuula walked through the gate and down the main road where Sir Victor's last stand was overrun during the siege and straight towards the ruins of The "Sleeping Boar Inn", where she sat on the floor of the burned ruins of a building and casually had a breakfast and a drink.

  "Well, at least the iron mugs didn't burn,“ she thought as she enjoyed the ambiance with a mug in her hand, but the sound of the steps interrupted her.

  "New cape?“ She said as she turned towards Nal'zuk.

  "What did the Gorugolm say about your discovery?“ His raspy voice questioned.

  "They were very pleased by the fact that now they can gather the valuable information from any corner of the Kingdom, and they decided to end my exile.“ She spoke with a muffled voice while simultaneously eating a bread.

  "It'll take more than appearance to fit in with the tall folk!“ The warchief growled.

  "Don't worry; if they notice the way I behave, I'll just tell them that I'm from the land in the north across the mountains.“ And while she spoke, Nal'zuk rolled a nearby barrel towards her and sat on top of it and proclaimed,

  "The battle last night is nothing but the beginning of my glorious victory! I'll break their forces bit by bit, and when they are dead, I'll conquer as much of the Kingdom as I can. Nuula, our peoples will no longer need to hide in the Underworld! And after my conquest, I'll be known as Nal'zuk the Great!, Nal'Zuk the Conqueror! I'll murder every last one of them! Nal'Zuk the Death of Mankind!“ He yelled in a horrendous voice while clenching his fist, but Nuula just bashed his chest armor with her hand and said through the laughter,

  "You clearly sat on top of that barrel to hide the fact that you are still shorter than me, conqueror.“ It was obvious that the two were good friends for a long time, but before Nal'zuk became a warchief, Nuula was clearly in charge, and she could not get him seriously regardless of what he did.

  During that time the men dug a ditch around their camp on Oxendell while they waited for the field smiths to repair their armors; some prayed to their god, and the others sharpened their blades and did other miscellaneous tasks.

  The sound of hammer blows filled the air together with the murmur of the crowd as the soldiers rested and talked while awaiting to replace the ones that dug. But as they talked, a shout rang through the atmosphere of the encampent:

  "Commander! Sir! We are digging out human bones!“ One of the digging soldiers yelled, and a commander assigned to that part of the encampment quickly approached and looked from the top of a dirt pile behind the ditch, and after a short silence, he proclaimed,

  "Give them a proper burial! This field used to be a battlefield long ago; we do not want to enrage the souls of the slain!“ And as soon as he said it, the men fell on their knees and prayed before following the commander's orders, and after they dug the graves for the bones, the paladins chanted a burial ceremony, poured a chalice of wine on the remains, and the men covered them with the dirt.

  It is well known that the Oxendell was a place where the armies of two opposing kingdoms clashed in a civil war that resulted in the Kingdom of Vikeron gaining independence from the Kingdom of Ventrius. Yet, the claims of their independence are still disputed, and many refer to the peace among the kingdoms as a simple truce between two opposing sides, as the men in the Kingdom of Ventrius believe that their king is a king of the entirety of mankind, crowned by Xorael himself, with a divine right of an absolute rule over the Realms of Men.

  As the day went on, Nal'zuk rallied his troops and lined the outer edge of the woodland with the ur'glun skirmishers and observed the human camp from a distance together with Morkaag and Nuula.

  "It seems that they are fortifying their position! Nonetheless, we cannot face them on the open field; we should wait...“ His raspy voice hissed as he held his dark iron helmet in his hands, and his half-burned face was revealed.

  "It will be as you say, Warchief!“ Morkaag replied and walked towards his clan to inform them of the decision.

  "Wait, Morkaag! I need your favor! Organize your followers to raid the nearby human settlements as soon as the sun goes behind the horizon! And if they send messengers, let them pass!“

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Aye!“ The large ur'glun replied and went his way.

  "I'll join him.“ Nuula commented and went together with Morkaag.

  "Good...“ The warchief whispered to his chin and observed the humans in the distance.

  As the hours passed, the day slowly turned into the night, as the sun approached the distant horizon.

  The evening was red, redder than usual, and the men mostly rested inside their camp, as they finished most of the digging, and soon enough, the thick mist poured down from the forest and the mountain behind and rose from the distant swamps in the land of Duskmoor in the east.

  And as the sun went down, the darkness prevailed, and the fields were completely covered in lingering mist and haze.

  "Alwin, do you see that?“ Eleanor squeaked and pointed her finger towards the darkness.

  "See what? There's nothing there...“

  "Come here, you dummy, look!“ And as he approached, he saw a faint apparition in the field.

  "It looks like a soldier!“ The man responded, as he looked in awe at the form, and as he approached it, it remained there, standing still.

  "Look around, there's more of them!“ And as Alwin looked at the field, now laid with pale moonlight, he could see the entire formations of ghostly soldiers that stood there, silent and unmoving. And quickly, the rest of the camp noticed the phenomenon; some were amazed, some prayed, and some saluted. Nogryl approached the two that stood on the field, together with Aryon.

  "Those are the ghostly apparitions, the mist-wraiths of Oxendell.“ The grand paladin proclaimed.

  "They are nothing but the remains of the souls of the fallen warriors, a mirror of their true form, for their souls already reached the afterlife.“

  "I don't understand... If they reached the afterlife, how can they be seen here?“ Alwin questioned in confusion.

  "When a mortal dies, his soul is separated from the body, but a shard of it still remains in the mortal shell, the lingering ectoplasm of the entity within that leaves the body after it's cremated. That's why you can see the last image of the dead when the darkness falls on the third day of the cremation rite, but lacking the proper burial, the lingering remains of the souls of those warriors still remain on the fields, and they manifest in the mist as wraiths."

  "Are the mist-wraiths aware of themselves?“ Norgyl approached and questioned.

  "No, mostly not. They just repeat the event that led to their death every night. Yet some of them might become dangerous if disturbed, and it is quite possible to communicate with a mist-wraith, but a proper ritual is needed for that; else, they are completely unaware of your presence.“

  And as the man spoke, the mist-wraiths lined in a straight line with their spears held high, and out of the mist rushed the forms of many horsemen, barely distinguishable from a breeze, and the field was once again turned into a battlefield, yet this time silent and barely noticeable, only seen by those that paid attention at the moonlit haze.

  "Lord Anedel, look!“ A shout rang through the otherwise silent night, and a soldier pointed at the horizon, as a reddish glow could be seen in the distance, and it revealed the thick rising smoke.

  "A nearby village is under attack!“ the panicking legionnaire yelled. And before wasting a moment, the knights and the cavalry mounted their horses and quickly formed a formation in front of the camp.

  "Sir Daymon! I'll need you to lead the reinforcements!“ The marshal yelled, and the knight nodded. And in a matter of seconds, the men were ready, and they rode their horses down the road towards the burning village.

  Meanwhile, beneath the rising smoke, Morkaag's clan sacked the buildings and burned what they could find no use for; the village militia rushed to defend the settlement, but they were quickly overrun by the much more numerous ur'gluns as Morkaag swung his heavy sword and shattered shields and helmets. The handful of guards, about twenty of them, stood together as they blocked the path of the raiding beasts, but Morkaag's clan charged at them, overrunning their formation with the strength of overwhelming numbers, as Morkaag personally led the charge and plunged through the forest of spears, swinging wide and cutting the defenders in half with his swings.

  Ur'gluns, despite being much smaller than the average man, were about the same strength, but Morkaag, being the height of an adult person, was a force to be reckoned with, as he personally claimed the lives of a handful of the militiamen while his clan took care of the rest.

  And as the town guards fell one by one, Nuula chased after the escaping civilians that carried their glowing torches and lanterns through the dark field, stabbing them through their backs, piercing their hearts and lungs, and kicking their dead bodies off her blades straight to the floor, and with every kill her wicked smile grew wider on her face. She was much faster than them, and they had no chance to escape. Some would attempt to fight, but their limbs were easily severed by the heavy blades of valkrulnal, and their lives were quickly taken away and their blood spilled upon the ground.