The End of the Formians

Yet another arrow "thunked" into Terjon's shield causing the metal-encased wood to vibrate and his already numb arm to shake from the impact. All morning, the Formians across the broad field fired multiple volleys at their position, effectively pinning the Empireans down. Their commanders created strategies from a safe distance attempting to figure out a way to assault the Formian forces. Many postulated the Formians should run out of artillery soon, yet they appeared to have an unending supply. Terjon tucked himself tighter behind his shield and waited.

Shadows flew across the browning grass and Terjon absorbed multiple blows. He sighed as another comrade screamed out and fell to the ground in a river of blood.

"Grim morning, eh Terjon," Blaise said.

"As grim as any other. Haven't seen the sun in days with these accursed arrows flying around."

Blaise grunted his agreement as he absorbed yet another. "When in all that is holy are they going to run out of damned arrows? There can't be this many in the entire world."

When we are all dead, Terjon morbidly thought to himself. Instead of sharing his thoughts, he smiled to his friend in response.

Suddenly, the barrage stopped. Terjon peeked around the metal rim of his shield to verify the sky was indeed empty of arrows. Superiors shouted orders to form up and ready themselves to charge the Formian position.

Before said charge could begin, screams emanated from the enemy lines. Terjon, as well as his comrades around him, knew the sounds of pain and death. Men pointed to the sky as an object flew toward them.

A head, torn from its previous possessor, landed with an audible splat in the field a few hundred feet in front of them. Terjon's peers let out a collective gasp of astonishment as more body parts flew onto the field.

Just as suddenly as the screams across the way started, they stopped. Other than a slight breeze which ruffled Terjon's curly hair, which he thought had been slightly tucked beneath his conical helmet, an eerie silence fell upon the battlefield.

Off to his left, someone let out a yell and pointed to the rise which served as the Formians launching point for their barrage of arrows. A solitary figure loped down the rise toward the army. Soon, others followed behind it creating a brown wave heading toward them at speeds Terjon did not think possible.

The commander called for arrows. To the archers credit, they let loose with great accuracy and many of the figures ran with arrows protruding from them. To Terjon's dismay, the arrows did not slow the creatures, but seemed to make them come on faster.

"Well, this can't be good," Blaise whispered beside him and pulled his sword from its battered sheath.

Terjon pulled out his sword as well and gripped the hilt as best he could in his sweating palm. He could now make out features of the creatures comprising the descending wave. Covered in dark brown fur, they ran on all fours. Terjon noticed, however, the front elongated limbs suggested the things normally stood on two legs. The reach would cause him difficulties in hand to hand combat. He wished he carried a spear or pike with him at that moment. A wave of panic washed through him as he recognized human features on their faces, most prominently in their eyes and noses. Their mouths, on the other hand, caused his greatest fear as he could see row upon row of razor sharp teeth gleaming with drool and slobber.

Sergeants tried to retain order the best they could as many of the Empireans dropped their weapons and ran. Terjon grimaced. The raging storm of muscle and fur assured a bloody, painful death for those men.

He watched as the brown avalanche hit the front line and sent men flying ten or twenty feet in the air. The in-numerous amount of creatures stood on their hind legs and raked their mighty claws into those who remained standing. Body parts flew. Terjon tried to keep from vomiting as Terrion's head rolled at his feet. He dimly remembered they had left their home town together to serve the greater good of the Empire.

A shadow loomed over him, cutting his ruminations short. The things smelled of mold and musk. Its roar reverberated through his head nearly causing his eardrums to burst. Terjon stood paralyzed as the thing gazed upon him with what he could only describe as lust. Maybe pity? Before he could dwell upon it further, or even raise his shield, Blaise appeared and thrust his sword into the towering figure's side. The thing let out a wail of pain and anger and swung its massive arm in a back handed blow which sent both men flying across the battlefield.

All of Terjon's air left his lungs as he landed in the mud twenty feet away from the battle. Miraculously, they landed clear of most of the fighting. Just as surprisingly, Terjon still held his sword. Blaise groaned next to him. He appeared to be just as hale as Terjon.

"Thank you my friend. We now know they can be hurt," Terjon said.

"Aye. But they still pack a wallop. They also seem to hold a grudge."

Blaise pointed with his sword to the hulking beast heading toward them. Blue blood flowed from the wound Blaise had caused, but even that did not slow it down. It came at them with fervor, ripping and tearing anyone who barred its path.

They barely had time to stand and poise their weapons before it was upon them again. Terjon tried as best he could to keep the fear from overwhelming him as the creature swung a claw filled with blood and gore. He dare not block the blow with his shield as his arm would, most likely, shatter from the blow. Instead, he ducked and rolled to his right cutting across the exposed knees of the creature with the edge of his sword. Blaise came in swiftly as well getting deep into the creatures already wounded side. The creature dropped to a knee in pain. Blaise, overconfident, moved in for the kill. He flew away from a blow from the creature's ridiculously long arms.
The creature, in obvious pain, grunted as it stood to its feet and approached Terjon. No longer did it fly at him in object fury, however in grudging respect as it cut the distance between them.

It feinted with it is right claw and swiftly reached across its body with its left snatching away Terjon's sword as he readied to parry. Completely surprised by the unexpected tactical move, the sword flew away as if taken away from a child. Terjon fell to his backside and awaited the swift death he knew was coming.

Terjon would swear later that the creature grinned at him and winked as it raised its claws to dismember him. Without a warning, a soft white light glowed through the creatures fur at its chest. It looked down and let out a primal scream, which Terjon could only describe as outrage, and the creature faded away; its scream receding into silence.

Terjon blinked once then twice to confirm his eyes still functioned correctly and the creature really disappeared before the killing blow. A soft groan to his left did indeed confirm he resided in the land of the living. He staggered to his friend who had propped himself up against a tree.

"Are you all right?" Terjon asked.

"I think I may have a few cracked ribs, but I will live," Blaise replied.

"We are both lucky in that regard," Terjon returned.

He surveyed the battle field to find the army lay in tatters. It appeared that of the two or three thousand Empireans who gathered on the field to battle the Formians only a few hundred survived.

"What happened?" Blaise asked.

"I don't know. I was about to be turned into pulp and then it just disappeared," Terjon answered.

"It ran away!"

"No. It literally disappeared into thin air," Terjon thought about it a little bit harder. "That's not entirely true. It faded away like a spirit from the old tales my parents used to tell."

"Are you saying those things weren't real," Blaise said with a look of disbelief.

"I don't know what I am trying to say. We should get back to rest of the army and see what's going on."

"Help me up." Blaise grimaced as Terjon helped him to his feet.

Terjon ignored the body parts scattered across their former encampment. A small group gathered around what remained of the command tent. Commander Lockely still lived and issued orders to anyone who would listen. Terjon found out later the Commander had hid inside a rotten log after the front lines collapsed.

"We must reconnoiter the enemy camp," Lockely said.

"What if more of those things are over there?" Sergeant Bilns asked. A bloody rag covered the area where his left eye previously resided.

"If they are still around they will slaughter us," Blaise provided.

"The young private is correct," Bilns quickly agreed.

"You two," Lockely pointed at Terjon and Blaise. "Check out the situation and report back"

They saluted and made their way up the blood soaked field. They trudged in silence; the blood and gore becoming thicker the further up the hill they went. When they finally reached the top, Blaise turned his head and retched. Terjon did his best to keep his meager breakfast down, but, in the end, failed as he looked upon the scene before him.

The Formians lay in pieces all about the plateau. Some of the bodies hung from make shift racks. It appeared as though a portion of the creatures stayed behind to gorge upon the Formians. Terjon did not want to think whether the Formians lived while this happened. They made a quick circle of the site to assure no Formian survived.

"Let's go back," Blaise offered.

Terjon nodded in assent and saw something gleaming to his right. He felt himself drawn to the object. Half buried in the mud, a crystalline pendant glowed and shimmered, the chain holding it cut through.

"Terjon this is no time to be looting. This place gives me the creeps," Blaise said with a note of desperation in his voice.

Terjon pocketed the amulet within a small pouch sewn into the leather padding underneath his chain mail shirt. He noticed the pendant felt warm and soothing. He followed Blaise back to the command tent.

After their report, Lockely pondered the situation. "You and you." He pointed to Randon and Stikes. "Return to the Empire and let them know what has happened here."

The two men nodded and quickly gathered their belongings. Terjon noticed they tried not smile as the other men groaned at their bad luck.

"As many you know, we have pushed deep into Formian territory and this was to be their last stand before we reached the very walls of Formia. We stand barely a days travel from the Forsaken City." A similar proclamation from Lockely a few days prior caused men to raise their swords in adulation, however, now they remained uneasy.

"From what I have seen today there is no further threat from the shaggy beasts and we are to move on to Formia."

"This is a dangerous idea, Commander," Sergeant Bilns protested. "What if Formia still stands or the beasts return. We do not have enough men to engage either forces."

"That is true Sergeant Bilns. But the Empire needs information. We surely have a force small enough to gather such and remain undetected if necessary," Lockely returned.

"I still say it is a great risk," Bilns said shaking his head.

"Your protest is duly noted, but I am sure you will see I am correct with this."

The remaining two sergeants barked commands. Survivors packed what gear and supplies left from the assault. Eyes wide and bodies tense, they made their way to the accursed city of Formia. Many retched when they passed through the Formian camp.

They saw more of the same as they traveled closer to Formia. Camp followers and supply trains massacred by the beasts. They witnessed more of the racks with entrails and blood scattered all about as if a wild feast took place in reverence to some heathen god. Nothing stirred nor made a sound as if everything flew away from the carnage. Terjon witnessed none of the carrion eaters associated with death on their trek. He felt a strange anticipation in the air as if they approached something never before encountered.

"Do you feel it?" Blaise whispered beside him.

Terjon grunted in agreement. As the strange feeling grew more and more distinct, the pendant in his pocket grew warmer and more comforting.

Lockely called a halt to their progress and summoned Terjon and Blaise once again.

"Scout ahead and report back," Lockely ordered.

They saluted and headed out. The landscape remained bleak and barren. Several miles off in the distance, they saw the walls of Formia, gray in the sunshine.

"Should we go farther?" Blaise asked.

Terjon thought about it a moment and decided to return back to the Commander and report their findings. The pendant in his pocket, however, pulsed with urgency. He felt compelled to continue further toward the city. It took almost all of his will power to convince himself not to rush head long to the city walls.

"We should let the Commander decide the best course of action," Terjon replied.

"What would that be? Send us forward and he hides beneath the first lady's skirt he can find." They both chuckled at that as they returned and reported what they saw.

"What now?" Bilns asked.

"We move forward cautiously and see what we can see," Lockely replied.

Bilns grunted and motioned for the group to move out. Nothing changed as they approached their greatest enemy's home city. The gates stood wide open regardless of the fact the Empire's army battled their own a mere half days ride away. Terjon realized this frightened him more than facing a host of Formians.

"My two new scouts. Ascertain the situation within the city's walls," Lockely ordered.

Terjon suppressed a chuckle. He looked down at himself and saw a tall, pale-skinned blond-haired man of the Empire. A stark contrast to the shorter, darker Formians. Upon entering the city, he foresaw a quick death.

Blaise gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Let's go. Much rather die by the gallows than the hairy beasties."

Terjon agreed with that conclusion completely. They entered the city in short order with no sentry or guard in sight. They walked along the main thoroughfare witnessing only empty homes and empty kiosks within the city Bizarre.

"There is nothing here," Blaise remarked.

Terjon pulled out his sword; Blaise quickly followed suit. A short time later the wind switched directions and blew directly in their faces. The smell accosting them at that point nearly caused Terjon to faint. It reminded him of a dead rat he found outside his home buried in a pile of refuse, only magnified to an unimaginable degree.

"By the gods! Where is that coming from?" Blaise asked.

"I think it is coming from over there," Terjon replied. He pointed to a large building, probably a warehouse for one the richer merchants residing within the Bizarre.

"Terjon. I don't want to go in there," Blaise said.

"I will go then. We will report back after. I don't want to be here anymore, but we must find out what's in there," Terjon said.

"If you're going then so am I. I'm not going to let you go back and tell everyone I was a coward. Lead on then and let's have at it." Blaise seemed much more determined at the thought of the potential label of coward. Terjon could only smile at his friend.

The warehouse stood nearly twenty feet high and nearly fifty feet in length. Terjon estimated that it dropped back another fifty feet into the neighboring buildings. Terjon thanked the gods no windows lined the front of the building making their approach more difficult to spot. A set of double doors served as the entrance to the storage facility. They opened inward making the pair vulnerable to an attack. Terjon steeled himself and pushed one of the doors forcibly. It crashed against the inside wall causing the building to shake slightly. The stench rushing out of the warehouse nearly overwhelmed Terjon and his companion. They both staggered back and placed their hands upon their assaulted noses.

Once Terjon composed himself, he looked inside the building. Even though no apparent windows illuminated the inner confines of the storage area, Terjon could see, quite clearly, an assortment of body parts. The parts probably account for nearly all of the inhabitants of the city.

"This is too much! We have to get out of here," Blaise said.

Terjon agreed completely. The pendant in his pocket convinced him otherwise. It throbbed and pulsed, pulling him toward the keep towering above the city. He felt an intense need to go there. He could no longer control the desire flowing through him.

"Return to Lockely. Tell him all you have seen here," Terjon ordered as he re-sheathed his sword.

"Where are you going? I'm going without you!" Blaise replied.

"There is something in the keep I must see. I can't describe it fully, but I am being called."

"Look around you Terjon. Do you think it wise to go off alone?" Blaise begged.

"Whatever did this is gone or we would be dead too. Please, the Empire must know what happened here."

"You're not coming back!" Blaise said as realization dawned upon him.

Terjon pulled the pendant from his pocket. "This thing has gotten into my head and I can't control myself. I can feel something changing inside of me." And he did feel something growing and changing within him. His thoughts did not seem his own. He felt an intense desire to rend and destroy.

Blaise attempted to snatch the pendant from Terjon's open hand; the amulet did not move. He pulled with all his strength and it still remained in Terjon's palm.

"Go my friend. I will do what I can to save the Empire."

Blaise seemed at odds with himself, but eventually he nodded and turned back toward the city gates. Terjon started his own journey to the keep.

Silence greeted him as he walked through the raised portcullis. His feet echoed on the ancient stone as he made his way to the the central throne room. Brown masses scattered across the massive hall slept in, what appeared to Terjon, a peaceful slumber. Surprisingly unafraid, Terjon pressed through.

A man sat on a large golden throne across from Terjon. The king of Formia stared into nothingness seemingly oblivious of Terjon's presence. Was the man alive? Terjon asked himself. The man's cheek twitched briefly as Terjon approached. A pendant much larger than Terjon's glowed on the king's chest.

"Kill me," the king whispered. Terjon heard the slightest of growls coming from the beasts closest to the king.

"I've brought death to my people," the king went on. "In my lust to destroy the Empire I have paid a horrible price. This can only end with my death."

The Formian looked upon Terjon and laughed. "Ah Empirean, I sense you have found one of my trinkets. Can you feel it coursing through you? The need to kill and tear human flesh. I was told my armies would be invincible. I would destroy all who opposed me."

"Who told you this?" Terjon dared to ask.

The king grunted and shrugged his shoulders as if to say what did it matter now. "I never saw the creature's face. It said it was an agent of Chaos. It said I would control a force never seen on this world.

'It gave me hundreds of the pendants you possess now. It told me to put them on all of my greatest generals and strongest warriors and they would become indestructible. I could not contain my excitement and I gathered all of them in this very throne room and placed one on each. I placed this accursed thing around my neck." He attempted to lift the larger amulet from his neck, but quickly pulled away as if being burned.

"I then watched as people I have known and trusted my entire life turned into those things sleeping around you. I could see and hear everything these things did in my mind. Through this accursed pendant.

'I watched as they destroy my beloved wife and young daughter. I watched as my people were ripped, torn and eaten in savage glee. I watched my armies mangled and ravaged."

"Why did you stop when your greatest enemy was about to be defeated?" Terjon asked.

"Using this thing takes a great deal of energy. Ironically, I passed out from exhaustion and I awoke to find my army around me."

"Now what?"'

"You kill me."

Terjon pulled his sword and climb the stairs to the dais. Each step caused the pendant in his pocket to burn hotter. He felt as if his whole body were aflame. The creatures on the ground growled more urgently. He pointed the tip of the sword to the older man's chest and stopped. The tip of his sword wavered mere inches from the king's heart, yet he could not strike the killing blow.

"Hurry, son. I cannot hold them much longer. They sense what you are about to do."

"I can't," Terjon proclaimed.

"You must."

Terjon thought of those whom he loved. He imagined his parents being ripped asunder by the creatures at his feet led by the mad king. He could not allow that to happen.

With every ounce of desire and fear and love he had within him, he broke the paralysis and plunged the sword into the king's heart. The king sagged back into the throne with an ever so slight grin on his face. The pendant in his pocket exploded. Terjon flew across the throne room to the huge doorway. Similar explosions rocked the room as flesh and fur soared into the walls. The once majestic throne room of Formia deteriorated into a slaughter house.

Terjon clutched his chest and pulled the chain mail shirt over his head. The leather padding beneath the mail smoldered from the blow and reeked of burnt flesh. He felt warm blood flowing down his chest and abdomen. He struggled to his feet and staggered out of the throne room. His vision blurred and he fought against losing consciousness. Terjon refused to die in the place where such horror originated. He fell to the ground mere feet from the exit; he continued to drag himself across the polished stone. He dimly heard a voice calling his name. He wanted desperately to answer back, but he no longer could draw a full breath. His strength gave out midway through the portcullis. He felt hands gently turn him on his back and slide off the leather pad. Terjon attempted to pull his sword. He felt as weak as a child as someone removed his hand from the weapon.

"Can he be treated?" Blaise asked.

"Aye, it's not as bad as it looks. As long as we stave off infection, he will make a full recovery," someone replied.

"Let's get him back to camp and convince Lockely to leave this cursed place," Blaise said.

"You have my agreement there," the other replied.

Must have been Bilns, Terjon thought just before consciousness left him.


The Emperor considered as he perused his vast realm. The buildings glittered in the late afternoon sun. Even from the high vantage point of the great tower, he saw his people run along their errands and living their lives. The peacefulness he witness below, hid a threat only he noticed.

Only the Formians stood in his way of complete domination over the entire continent. The Formians, however, refused to yield and remained doggedly persistent. From the vague reports he received, the near destruction of Lockley's forces only reinforced the Emperor's opinion of his enemy.

"You can guarantee the destruction of the Formian's?" the Emperor asked, still staring out the window.

"Yes, my great emperor. Your army will be indomitable. The Formians will whither at your great strength. All you need is the chests I have brought." The cloaked figure pointed to the guarded chest behind him. The Emporer's bodyguards took no chances when it came to his safety.

"Your price?"

"Only the continuance of your great empire. And your wise and benevolent rule, of course," the figure said, his voice rasping and wheezing.

"Very well," the emperor responded.

The merchant explained the use of the contents within the chests and reached within his cloak, this brought the ringing echo of swords drawn from sheaths. The Emperor waved them away as the merchant drew a huge pendant from the folds of his cloak. The Emperor, nor his bodyguards, noticed the clawed, deformed hand holding the pendant.

"Put this on once your warriors are gathered." Within the shadows of the cloak, a sharp toothed maw grinned and drooled.

The Emperor's eyes glittered as he took the offering. Finally, he thought, the end of the Formians.