#thewolfhound

In the year of our lord 843, war had come to Caro. Emperor Gaius I of Caro had long desired to restore his empire to its former glory. He waged war on the Vandals, who had conquered Estor some sixty years before. But his general Julius was arrogant and foolhardy. He suffered a crushing defeat early in the campaign. The defeat was so crushing, so embarassing for Caro and so motivating for the Vandals that rather than just repel the invasion, they mustered for a counterattack immediately. With the army shattered, they cut a swath across Caro unimpeded until they reached the valley of Frakes. Frakes was a crucial defensive position, sitting on the main road to the capitol. But it was also tragically undermanned. Its garrison was down to just fifty soldiers, though they had the arms to field ten times the force. These were honourable men and women, all willing to die for their country. They wanted their deaths to matter, not just to be thrown under the feet of an uncaring horde.

And so it was that they each found their way to Gravelord's temple to pray for his guidance. Only two remained upon the wall, ever peering out into the darkness. It was said the Gravelord might look favourably upon a devout warrior and allow him to survive a mortal blow. They would need many such indulgences to turn the tide the next day.

The Gravelord's cleric was a young woman of a radical sect. She approached the garrison commander as he stood to leave. "You still haven't left? Madam, I wasn't being hyperbolic. Frakes will fall. It's only a matter of time. You should get out with the townsfolk while you still can," he said. "And I told you, sir, that I wasn't leaving you to your heroically foolish death. I think I have a solution to your manpower problem. You're not going to like it, though," she said. "I won't have old men and children up on the wall." "And you won't have to. But I will need your help exhuming." "Exhuming? You're planning on digging up graves? I'm no priest, but isn't that sacrilege?" "Not if I understand my scripture correctly. I've been rereading the Gravelord's Accord. And I realized that the accord is over the matter of a man's soul, not his body." "Forgive me, priestess, but I don't see how it being okay to disturb graves is going to help us. What are you going to do with the bodies?" "I'm going to reanimate them to fight the Vandals." "You would take a soul from the Grave lord? That's heresy!" "No, not with souls. They will remain in His embrace. I'll be using their bodies as puppets." "Puppets... Can you really control that many bodies at the same time?" "Not well, but well enough. We'll need the consent of their loved ones, though. Will you come with me?" And so the commander and the priestess visited each family in turn and secured their blessing to raise their kin. The villagers even helped the soldiers dig.

When the Vandals finally arrived they found a garrison not boarded down and hiding behind the walls but instead sortied and ready to meet them on the plains in front. The Vandal commander laughed. He had seen such folly before. A tiny force of Caroneans had charged his far superior force and been cut down easily. If they had  instead defended their walls his men would have starved to death. These Caroneans had more honour than sense, he thought. But he would take the opportunity for an easy win. The capitol city lay ahead, and he would need all the men he could spare to take it.

The two forces met fiercely. The Caronean garrison fought with fervor, but for every man they cut down, another two stepped into his place. Yet they held out. It was only when the Vandals had fully committed, when the garrison had nearly broke formation, that the commander finally threw up the signal. A bugle sounded from the wall. The Vandal Commander scanned for a trap, archers, cavalry, anything. But nothing came. Confident the signal was a bluff, they continued their assault.

And then the corpse-puppets were upon their back line. They marched down from the hills in lockstep, hundreds of them. The priestess's control was clumsy, and she was not a warrior, so her puppets' attacks were little more than simple chops and stabs that each one made at the same time. But the puppets felt nothing, they feared not death. They fell only to the blows of heavy hammers. Relentlessly they pushed forward, a hammer smashing the vandals against the garrison and the city walls.

At the end of the day, the Vandals were slaughtered to a man. The garrison had also suffered - Just twenty of them could still stand. They tended to their wounded. The commander found the priestess sitting and staring out at the battlefield. Her corpse-puppets were strewn about her haphazardly, having all been released while they stood. Her hands were shaking. He put his hand on her shoulder. "I killed them. I killed them all. I killed them with so many swords and I saw them die through so many eyes. And it was so easy to kill them. Why, why was it so easy then and so hard now?" she said. "I won't lie to you, it's always hard to live with the killing. But you have to remember why we do it. Don't look at the battlefield you left behind. Look at the town you saved from being razed. The children that will sleep in a bed tonight. We kill so that others may live. We suffer so they may have peace," he said.