It was chaos. Glorious, bloody chaos. Ages ago, Rask had reveled in it for his home and his people. Now, as the watered down elves of today crashed into his forces, he did it for nothing that could be put into words. There was revenge and hatred and numerous other dark things swirling inside him, but it was something deeper that took hold. He was a Guardian Beast again; a lowly creature that guarded his holy artifact no matter what kingdoms fell outside the temple walls. Though his masters were gone, he knew the simple existence that he had been thrust into once more. Happily, he let it sweep him away.
Another elf, diminutive to his eyes, came at him from the front line of the enemy, elegant blade whistling overhead. The lizard man braced his legs and crossed the short swords in his hands. Fine elven work ground against old elven work as the attacker tried to saw his blade free of the pincer grip. He didn't even notice the third sword that rose high on Rask's tail and dove into his neck, neatly popping the seams between helm and shoulder plates.
The ancient elves presented a more dignified front than their leader, one that was but a hint of the majestic battle choreography their race had once attained. Their long swords fell, pulsing those before them off their feet, then swept upward to cleave them asunder in a steady rhythm as precise as a metronome. The zombies flooded past them, for they lacked the discipline of those that had truly learned it in life, and were slain as much as they slew. And when they fell, the ancient elven line stepped over them, churning the enemy ranks and releasing another wave of zombies to absorb the retaliations.
~
He spoke to her. She didn't care what the words were. He said her name and it had a far more familiar feel than when he spoke to his generals. The battle was muted for that sweet moment. The unicorn's ghostly hoof beats were also silent, as well as the spattering of bodies that her harpies delivered around her. I will give you this city. A gift from me, she assured him through the mental link, holding it open with nary a thought. She would have said more, revealed to him that the quiet murmurs in his dreams had been real and honest, if not for the rush of cavalry before her.
By luck or strategy, they wheeled about the main battle on a path straight for her. With slitted eyes, she glared over the decrepit rider's shoulder. The elves would not let her living portal feast in peace. How like them. Vipress quickly twisted to check on the progress and was pleased to see naught of the deposited bodies. The shadow was close now, hovering over the last few and drinking them in through the swaying folds. The soldiers from the head of the enemy force had been the easiest pickings, their attention locked forward, so the deliveries had been short and rapid. If the elves sought to stop the toll from being paid, they were likely already too late.
Xem'zund was right. It was time to move inward. Vipress commanded the unicorn to slow and wheel to the left. Gracefully, it bolted toward the main flow of the army while Vipress made a dismissive gesture toward the approaching horsemen. Like a hammer of the gods, the harpies dove in a thick cloud of feathers, wing membranes, limbs and agonized faces. They hooked low over the ground and rammed themselves, shrieking, into the formation. Claws and talons found flesh, horse and elf, and every wretched body that fell, broken, from the air was replaced by the screaming push.
Behind the front lines of the zombies, the unicorn cut like a razor. Those about to step into its path were halted by Vipress' will and hovered in midstep just long enough to let the unicorn flicker past. The shadow followed close behind, moving quickly but apparently unhurried. It never altered its speed, but seemed to fall into every gap between the running undead. They ignored it, and it ignored them as it swept over the bodies underfoot, leaving nothing but stained earth.
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