The two armies spent many long moments watching each other in dreadfully peaceful silence, with only the with the only noise being the distant groaning of wood and metal as the heavy siege weaponry moved above their heads. To those ahead of them the Sleeper Invasion Force looked like insects, an infestation which needed to be cleansed from the world brutally and efficiently.
To the sleepers the undead legion looked like an indomitable wall of horrors which stretched as far as their vision could see down the winding streets of the mighty Bastion, armed with all manner of weapons and clad in strange armor which seemed to reflect the world back onto itself their fear palpable as their force marched through the street.
Staring down the undead legion at the spearhead of the formation was their seemingly fearless leader, his blade resting by his side as he slowly raised it to their foe, his brilliant bronze coloured armour now clear of any damage and wear as it shined a brilliant golden hue from the morning sun which glistened of its perfect surface. The sight of their leader made the emotions of the sleepers swell as they raised their own weapons in union, today was promising to be the fight of their lives, and they would show their enemies no mercy.
In the center of the undead legion heavy footsteps vibrated along the ground as the armoured figure of a goliath stepped through his soldiers, twice the size of his fellow undead standing at an imposing fourteen foot tall, covered head to toe in immaculately decorated and well kept armour which looked like it had never seen a day of battle in its entire existence.
A plume of red feathers adorned its head as the slight purple hue of its armour emanated off like a force of nature, bound to the steel for all eternity just begging to be released from the grips of death, its skin was taught around terrifying muscles which exuded strength unlike what they had ever seen before. Its eyes were brimming with malice as a twisted grimace painted its face.
In its hands a long spear adorned with a pennon of red and gold fluttering in the wind underneath its point, the colour was that of the night sky with the shaft being intricately decorated much like its armour, a long flowing cape was covering its shoulders flowing down its back and moving gently in the breeze, adorned with the icon of a vermillion dragon highlighted by golden ornamentation.
The abomination moved forward until it reached the head of the formation, looking down at its enemy as it raised its spear, pointing it at the heart of the Valorant knight standing as its opposition, its putrid mouth opened as a commanding voice pressed against the world, its words spoken in an unknown language of an age long forgotten, the power in its voice was like a crushing weight on those who heard it.
"Charge!"
As these words echoed through the silent streets the groaning of ancient wood and metal scraping against the stone came to a stop as the sound of rattling chains cut against the air like nails on a chalkboard. The undead legion suddenly burst into action as the undead sentinels rushed forward as their commander remained motionless, watching the carnage unfold from a distance.
The same time the intrepid knight watched over the scene with a calm fierceness in his eyes, if this is what it meant to return to those he had left behind he would take on the oncoming army alone if he must, but he was not alone this day, as he stepped forward a single command echoed forward lifting the oppressing weight on his enemies words from the minds and bodies of his fellow man,
"Advance!"
As a sudden rush of courage and adrenaline prompted the invasion force to assume their battle formation for what many believed to be their final battle.
Damian opened up the assault by firing one of his arrows into one of the undead manning the heavy siege weaponry stationed high above before it had a chance to fire its weapon, the arrow flew true and pierced the skull of the undead with little difficulty. Its body went limp as it slumped against the ramparts with the voice of the spell whispering in his ear,
[You have Slain an Awakened Demon, Bastion sentinel]
As he turned to fire at his next foe a fellow sleeper launched a ball of flame at the other side, colliding into the side of another piece of artillery as the flames expanded on impact, splintering the wood and metal in a vicious explosion. The siege weapons support gave way as it began to fall off the edge of his defensive position yet the undead artillerist was determined to make his mark despite the dire circumstances.
The chains supporting the machine snapped under the force of its fall as it broke apart from the recoil of the firing of a large bolt of pointed metal, the sleepers ducked down low as they moved forward as the heavy weapon flew overhead as it crashed into the wall behind them, imbedding itself into the stonework with little difficulty as clouds of dust were kicked into the air from the impact.
The burning wreckage collided with the floor as the vibrations echoed out across the cobbled street as plumes of smoke rose into the air, the undead soldier rising from the flames like an agent of hell ready to deliver punishment. As it stood tall amidst the flames the sleepers tried to focus forward seemingly ignoring its presence for the moment as it began to charge towards them.
As it drew closer a strange scent filled the air as a sudden stream of buzzling light emerged as it ran through its legs, the sound of metal cutting against metal briefly filled the air before the sounds of rending flesh took over as a pain shot through the undead's leg as it fell to the ground. Black blood spilled from its wound as it staggered watching the invading insects pass by without even looking back as it turned its head to look behind itself, just in time to see a silvery blade of a fellow sentinel come down on his head.
Jasper heard the voice of the spell call out to him as the heavy blade pierced the front of the creatures skull, how fortunate it was that it happened to turn at the last moment, the blade he wielded was not a memory but instead one of the many weapons they had scavenged from their fallen enemies over the past few days. His job this day was to clean up any loose ends which fell behind the advancing line or fell outside the parameters of their mission. It wasn't going to be easy but he wasn't alone in this endeavour.
Jest was near the back of the formation along with the other ranged fighters, using his primitive bow and quiver of arrows to attack the enemies from afar, of course that was just an excuse to stay out of the fight for a while. His real job was the same as before, to make sure the sleepers stayed on track and that any faltering emotions were squashed nearly as quickly as they surfaced by amplifying the opposite ones more intensely, he and the others in the rear were tasked with taking out all the lesser beasts and monsters from a distance to allow the melee fighters to engage the undead as smoothly as possible as well as moving forward to support the melee fighters once the supply of arrows had run low.
With the sole exception with Damian of course. Who despite also aiding from the backline was tasked with a different objective, his role was to do what he must to try and take down the commander of the undead legion before it engaged them in direct combat as well as supporting the melee by taking out any undead that approached the frontline over the designated limit discussed before hand or any undead that were out of range of the others in his unit.
Being the spearhead of the formation Warden was as privy to the full sight of the horrors in front of them, the numerous beasts of unimaginable horrors like that out of a chilling nightmare were staring down at them, at him and yet he felt no fear, it was in that fearlessness that the others found a semblance of hope and confidence which propelled them forward. Yet it was a false impression, he wasn't fearless from being brave, he was just as scared as everybody else but he couldn't show it like the rest of them, for he was their commander and any sign of weakness from him meant that cracks would form over the whole force and weaken their resolve, how funny it is that a flaw in oneself would be enough to inspire others.
Raising his blade higher and higher he readied himself for the bloody duel which was about to commence as the two sides finally collided into each other, as his blade met the edge of another as the fight against the undead legion finally began in earnest as the sounds of steel clashing against steel rang out like the sirens of war.