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Unfortunately, I have already written this part of the story. After it was done, the crappy computer I was on shut down. All of my beautiful progress was lost...... I will try again, but hopefully you will get to read this version.




The blackness of the night made the hill appear as if it was rippling. The zombies that covered the hillside shuffled mindlessly towards the church's walls. A cold shiver danced through Syris's spine. He was not unfamiliar with battle, but this was different. Something gave Syris a very bad feeling. He, along with the other archers, fitted his arrow to his bow. As they rushed forward, the zombie begame increasingly more visible and grotesque. Syris and the other archers fired another volley of arrows.

The arrows rained down upon the zombies' frontlines. A few fell here and there, but no noticable dent was made in the ranks. Three volleys later, Syris realized the futility in their plan. A new strategy was required. Syris had a plan. He put away his bow.

"Burn in hell," Syris muttered as he held both hands above his head. As he mumbled in elvish, is eyes began to glow. His steady grey eyes became a blazing red. Soon, the whites of his eyes were blazing with actual fire. Above his hands formed, at first, a vortex of swirling flame. The vortex became a small orb glowing with bright orange fire. Syris channeled even more of his power into the orb. It grew into a large sphere, ten feet in diameter.

"Boosted Fireball!" Syris roared as he hurled the enormous ball of flame into the zombie's ranks. The flames incinerated the first few zombies it hit. When it hit the ground, the fireball exploded. The zombies' dry, decayed flesh and tattered rags caught fire easily. Hungry flames ate through the zombies, leaping from one zombie to another in attempt to sate it's voracious appetite. Flames engulfed the zombie army in a matter of minutes. By the time the last spark died, the mighty zombie horde was nothing but ash.

The archers on the wall cheered for Syris. Syris smiled weakly. He used a lot of power in that attack. His "boosted" magic was very draining. Even on a full night's rest he could use one twice. Syris wasn't done yet though. He didn't have to boost all of his magic. Everyone was happy and applauded. Syris still couldn't shake that bad feeling though. A scream of pain from below ended their short celebration. Their battle was not over yet.

Psycho saw it all happen in slow motion. He watched everyone on the wall celebrating Syris's magic, but the smell of battle was still in the air. He was itching for a fight. Suddenly, the weak point in the wall was broken open. The zombies distracted the front so they could storm the wall's weakness. An excellent plan. By the time the first man fell to the zombie's surprise attack, Psycho had drawn his sword. Bloodlust filled Psycho's veins as he cut the first zombie in two. His battling instincts took over.

"Let's send these monsters back to their graves!" Psycho bellowed. All of the guards, inspired by the madness of Psycho, rushed into the battle. Psycho destroyed zombies two or three at a time. He fought with the rage and fury that earned him the name Psycho.

Megadeth, who did not like head to head battle, dissapeared into the shadows. Dagger ready, he watched for weakness in the enemies fighting. When there was an opening, he would sneak in quickly, deal a killing blow, and cloak himself with shadows again. Many men survived that would have died if not for Megadeth's intervention. Unfortunately, he stumbled as the battle took a toll on his endurance. Five zombies surrounded him.

Syris saw the zombies closing in on Megadeth. He raised his hand and pointed it at the zombies. All five fingers on that hand glowed with magical energy as he mumbled the words to his spell.

"Magic Missle!" Syris yelled. Five bright blue bolts of pure magic burst from his fingers. The magic bolts dodged around both enemy and ally alike until they reached their designated targets. The five zombies crumbled to the ground as a blue bolt of energy ripped through each of them. Megadeth gave Syris another rouguish wink and returned to the shadows.

Syris fell to his knees. He had expended too much energy. He was beggining to lose hope. Then, the oddest thing happened. The zombies stopped. They turned around and left. They did not respond even when the guards continued to slay them as they left. As the last zombie dissapeared into the distance, the sun rose in the opposite direction. Good, Syris thought, we made it through the night. With his work done, Syris collapsed.