Miscellaneous
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A large group of ghols were attacking the archers. As he watched, one of the archers fell to the ground with a ghol brandishing its cleaver over him. Thyre signalled his men to attack the ghols. They ran up the hill and engaged the ghols. There were more ghols behind the hill, and they ran up to kill the berserks. Thyre had just dispatched a ghol when he felt a incredible pain in his back. A ghol had snuck up from behind and stabbed Thyre between the shoulder blades. Thyre fell to the ground, trying to remove the cleaver from his back. The ghol that had stabbed him decided this was the best opportunity to kill him. As it raised another cleaver, he rolled over and stabbed his claymore straight into the ghol's exposed underbelly. It emitted an inhuman scream before it fell to the ground, dead. Thyre's men had killed the other ghols, with only one loss.
Thyre finally managed to pull the ghol's cleaver from his back. Looking around, he couldn't see any of the enemy. Frowning, he slid his claymore back into its scabbard. He ran up to the top of the hill and looked around. Everywhere lay dead bodies, but there was no sign of any living Dark. He turned to look towards ha'Rah.
The entire city was crawling with undead. They were everywhere. He looked back towards the World Knot, and saw the survivors of the attack. The archers had been deployed to the right of where Thyre was standing and the dwarves on the left. Every dwarven and Fir'Bolg unit had a guard of five berserks and ten warriors. Several rebel myrmidons and a few fetch had joined them. The fetch were on the far flanks of the force, and the myrmidons were to help Thyre and his men. The fetch also had a guard of warriors.
Everything was set. Alric stood atop a grassy hillock, watching, waiting. The undead were moving closer to the army of the Light. Alric whistled, and the archers fired into the oncoming mass of myrmidons. The front row of them fell almost immediately, and the second and third row fell after several attacks from the rebel fetch. The enemy myrmidons were close enough now for the dwarves to use their Molotov cocktails. Thyre watched as the explosive mixtures fell through the air to land in the middle of the myrmidon formation.
The enemy formation seemed to detonate, sending bits of myrmidon flying everywhere. This time a unit of slow moving thrall came in, accompanied by two trow. Alric whistled again, and the archers arrows targeted the trow this time. Its giant form faltered but kept coming. The dwarves were hurling their cocktails into the fray, sending little bits of thrall through the air. The area around the rebel fetch lit up as they fired bolt after bolt of lightning into the oncoming undead. Masses of the enemy fell before the fetches awesome power.
Both the trow had been killed, and the hovering shapes of soulless were beginning to appear at the back of the thrall. The archers were aiming for the soulless, leaving the task of clearing out the myrmidons and thrall that were attacking to the dwarves and rebel fetch. Thyre was ordered to attack the ghols that were coming from behind the World Knot. He ran down the hill and reached the ghols. The first one he encountered was immediately beheaded by his claymore, with the next few being killed off by Thyre's men. More ghols appeared from behind the hill, and were immediately killed. Thyre turned back and ran up the hill to find out how the battle was going.
There was no need to ask. Nothing moved. The battlefield was littered with corpses, and the ground was scarred by the dwarves explosives and the fetches lightning bolts. Arrows were embedded in the corpses and the ground. Bodies lay with limbs twisted at strange angles and heads were missing. It was easy to spot the undead that the fetch had killed; they were blackened, and in some cases, merely a pile of ashes.
The battle was over.