Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Humans and elves, a tale as old as time, yesterday's mortal enemies could become today's greatest allies, when there was no common threat, they would eye one another, but the instant a third party barged in, it was as though all enmity was forgotten.

Such was the case here, an entire realm dominated by mankind and elvenkind, their history stretches far into the past, indeed, although both had somewhat stagnated in terms of development over the centuries, they had been far more advanced compared to many civilisations outside of their realm back then.

This place had a rich history, tales of conflict, friendship, great victories over evil… You name it, a wide world where their two species had been living mostly in harmony for a long time now, even if there were tensions here and there, it had been a long time since either side had actually made a move against the other.

At least, that was until the dirt-blooded attacked.

Forcing the human and elves to once again unite against this common threat, in the first days and weeks of this new war, the ruling, sapient species of the realm were confident, what could the imperfect hybrids do after all? They were a disorganised group that hated one another, and whose populations were running directly into a wall due to their filthy, corrupted blood.

Indeed, the dirt-blooded bore the blood of multiple, different species within them, they had once been goblins, orcs, trolls, ogres, and the likes, but those species were not gone, eradicated, not a single pure-blooded member of any of those species was left, not even half-blooded or quarter-blooded either, for that matter.

Those species, branded monsters by the humans and elves, had been brutally hunted down during one of the many team-ups centuries ago, their numbers dwindled to dangerous degrees, causing inbreeding amongst their populations.

Realising the dangers posed by continuing as they were, the monstrous groups attempted to mate with one another, believing that this might allow them to purify the next generations…

They were wrong.

What came out were abominable, harrowing beings, rare were those that reassembled anything they knew, but they had no choice but to try and keep trying, however, even brought together, the different monster populations were too few in numbers to escape the maws of inbreeding for long.

So when they managed to build numbers back up, they launched attacks on settlements of humans and elves, not for revenge, but with the desperate belief that by introducing the noble-blooded species into their kind, that they would be able to rise again, like a phoenix out of the ashes…

To an extent, they were somewhat successful, but still fell short of their expectations, by a wide margin.

The attacks had caused another retaliation back in the day, the many deaths did not help their growing problems, the monstrous species retreated underground, and into the badlands, their problems kept on accumulating, and once again, divides form amidst their ranks, even the dirt-blooded could not stay united for long, different groups formed based on whatever collection of traits they manifested the most, keeping to themselves.

For years and years, the elves and humans had only caught fleeting sights of the disgraceful beings, that was until an army of them came marching toward their cities and villages.

Their numbers had swollen to degrees that should have been impossible, by this point, they should have reached a level of consanguinity that made giving birth impossible, and yet, they had increased in numbers.

Not only that, but they were once again united.

Still, the ruling powers did not feel threatened, the two sides joined hands once again, and ravaged the ranks of their enemies, at first, it seemed like everything was going well, but after a month of fighting, they realised that their enemies did not seem to decrease in numbers, if anything, it felt as though they kept on getting more numerous.

Many villages and small towns, lacking the necessary defences were sacked, the inhabitants taken away to serve as reproductive units for the dirt-blooded.

However, although it had been a long time since they had last fought real wars, the elves and humans had not grown to irreparable levels of complacency just yet, even if viewed as a joke nowadays, the historical tensions between their two sides had fostered a certain level of wariness, so even as no wars occurred, years after years, the rulers kept on investing into soldiers and defences, even if it was merely out of deeply ingrained habit.

This allowed them to quickly evacuate the places that were easy pickings for the enemy, making use of dusty forts and old strategic positions.

This was then that they truly understood that they had underestimated the enemy, the true leaders revealed themselves.

It should have been obvious, really, that another party had been involved in the unification of the dirt-blooded, the enemy had moved with military precision that should have not been possible for them, but they had been savage and somewhat disorganised to a high enough degree that people had not questioned it too greatly.

The invader was far more intimidating than anything they had had to deal with in the last centuries.

Mankind and elvenkind had slaughtered dragons to extinction long ago, every powerful creature that could threaten them had been eradicated off the face of this realm, and yet, never-seen-before beings led the dirt-blooded, figures masked with iron and garbed in black, riding upon what looked like small wyverns, capable of moving from place to place in an instant by turning into foul, purplish smoke.

They began appearing over battlefields, silent observers at first, only acting when champions, heroes and great generals appeared, moving with deadly efficiency, slaughtering those of great renown, and even budding talents.

The war became cruel, the mortality rates soaring… Until, finally, the enemy leader appeared.

"Greetings, livings" his voice was cold, as though devoid of emotions.

"My name is Dimios, leader of the Verfolger, by the Pale Lady almighty, I am an emissary of King Nitok, Prince Of Death, surrender now, bring a quick end to your suffering, follow the footsteps of those your considered lesser, and ascend toward an eternal existence! Toward undeath!"

"If you refuse… Mercy will still be extended to you, if you deem it worthy to live any longer, to be in pain for a second more, to have your being consumed by fear for another instant… Then so be it, enlightenment will reach you eventually"

"For as long as you struggle against the inevitability of Death, this brutal war shall continue"

The threat had identified itself.

Undeath was here.