“FOR KING TERENAS! FOR LORDAERON!”

The cry seemed to echo in Tavian's helm as she surged forward with the rest of the town guard. At that very moment Tavian had never been more terrified in all her life. She forced her feet to move, her shield raised as she had been taught, her sword ready. The onrushing undead, a tame name for the disgusting and bowl loosening swarm that hurried towards her, appeared like some unending carpet of moving blackness. 

The guards moved forward purposefully, shield to shield, as they had been taught. The empty street giving them the time and space they needed to prepare. It was just like training, if you ignored the onrushing horde and the fact that they all clutched steel weapons rather than wooden training staves. 

"Braces yourselves!!" Captain Dawnbridge, a handsome man to whom she had given some attention an evening or two ago, gave the order and she slid her right leg back, left shoulder bracing against her shield. She could barely see the creatures that poured from the wood through her visor, it was so narrow. She could hear heavy breathing on either side of her, the muttered prayers, the curses, and a sudden sharp smell told her someone had pissed themselves.

The ghouls were close now, close enough to pick out individuals and Tavian felt her own bladder release at the sight, the urine running down her leg and pooling in her boots. She was scared and at the moment wanted nothing more than to be at home with her sisters, shovelling cow shit and playing with kittens. But it was to late now.

The ghouls hit the line of guardsman with complete disregard for injury and the line shook, but held. Tavern screamed her war cry, it sounded like the scream of a child to her own ears, and hacked at the nearest ghoul. She was not nearly as strong as her male comrades but she was fast and had excellent sense of technique, or so her instructor had told her. 

To her surprise the ghoul crumpled under her blow, its head split open, and slid to the ground. She didn't have time to think though as a second one lunged for her. She slammed her shield forward, the heavy front smashing into the ghouls face and sending it back a pace, then its head rolled as she slashed her sword with a quick sweep of her arm. She could do this! She felt a surge of elation as she killed a third ghoul with a savage blow to the head.

“This is pointless!” Came a pathetic cry from her left and in an instant the man who should have been protecting her side had thrown down his sword and fled. The hole that  he had left in the line was filled immediately by a slavering ghoul. Tavian killed it with a lightning fast chop to the neck but another bounded at her before they could close up the line. She aimed a blow at the ghoul but it leapt past her without hesitation and threw itself onto Captain Dawnbridge. He gave an awful scream and then blood burst from his lips. Their eyes made contact for a brief second and then the ghoul dragged him down. 

In that instant Tavain was hit between the shoulder blades by something soft and squishy and she went down in a tangle of sword, shield and armour. Whatever was on top of her didn't move and some instinct told her to lay perfectly still as ghouls continued to rush past her, overwhelming the few guardsmen who were trying to retreat up the street. Her breathing sounded harsh inside her helmet and she had to force back a gagging sob, fighting with all her self-preservation to remain still. 

How long she lay there she could not say. The sounds of battle raged on, far longer than she had expected. Her neck hurt from the angle she lay at, her leg was twisted awkwardly beneath whatever was on top of her and she was intensely aware of the smell of her own sweat and urine as it mixed with smell of the dead all around her. She could hear what sounded like explosions, a Mage perhaps, somewhere in the town, putting up a last desperate fight. She wanted so badly to move but dared not for the time being. But when would the time be right? It wasn't like the ghouls would go to bed or anything. Just as she made up her mind to move, something began to move through the pile of corpses around her and froze.

“I WILL BREAK YOUR BONES, LITTLE MORSELS!!!

She had no idea what sort of creature was nearby but that voice alone was enough to convince her that moving was unwise. She shut her eyes and prayed, she could hear more ghouls coming closer, shuffling through the bodies of her fallen comrades. A sudden purple flash, the smell of burnt meat, and the roar of whatever was nearby almost made her cry out and she bit down on her tongue to keep herself from doing so. She could taste blood suddenly. She had bitten down to hard.

Moments later a brilliant flash and intense heat washed over her and the stink of burnt flesh became almost impossibly strong as something exploded, splattering charred meat everywhere. A heavy crash told her that whatever had been hit was down. She couldn't hear any more ghouls. It was now or never.

She slid her arms beneath her shoulders and heaved her body upwards. A dead ghoul tumbled off her back and she lurched to her feet. A surprised ghoul, half pinned under the burnt pile of meat that once been some fleshy creature, tried to reach out to her but she stumbled out of its reach. Her right ankle was on fire and she whimpered as she put weight on it. A glance down the streets showed what looked like survivors moving backward, cutting their way through the undead mass. For the moment she was important to the undead. 

Any fool could see she was about to be left alone in the town and that did not sit well with her. She hobbled across the dead, shouldered open the door of a nearby house and tumbled inside. Pushing the door shut with her good foot and glancing around the room. It was empty. A staircase climbed up one wall and she hobbled painfully up it, finding herself in a bedroom with a low ceiling. A trapdoor, presumably to an attic was above her, a ladder dangling from it. She managed to climb it, one foot at a time, and found herself in a small, long space that stretched over the house. She pushed the ladder down, it clattered to the floor and lay still. She closed the trapdoor and dragged herself as far down the attic as she could, until she was pushed up against the stone chimney. 

There, alone in the darkness, no sword, shield, or helmet, covered in her own urine and someone else's blood, she began to cry softly.