Albie looked at the old man in front of him and felt his blood grow cold. The grey-haired man staring him down was tall with a long beard. His yellow jacket covered in a polished steal breast plate. The mage looked in the man's eyes and saw no fear only confidence and hatred. The man's hammer found its way into the mage's chest.
He felt the air and sludge fly out of his lungs as he was nocked back a foot. His back hit the ground and he saw the sky. He recognized the sensation of broken ribs and damaged lungs. Now was not the time to worry about that. His arm finished snapping back into place as the power of the blood stone continued to heal him. He rolled over to hear hammer smashing street stones. The mage rolled again as his lungs and ribs began to reshape. Blood and black fluid leaked from his nose and mouth.
The two combined the liquid unlife turning the blood into a wiggling slime into his mouth and nose. He tried to roll again but felt a boot on his leg stopping him from rolling over completely. He had turned just enough to see the old soldier lifting his hammer again. The expanding blood slime in his throat was growing. He could not spit it out because of a lack of air in his lungs. He drew his dagger and stabbed his chest he felt his lungs reshape and fill with air. He pulled the blade out and his chest healed as the hammer readied for another blow.
Albie spit the expanding blood clot at the sergeant who decided to avoid the mass of hungry liquid.
As his foot became free and his body healed, he rolled over but found the old solder had not left him to escape. He Found his walking stick and swung it at the man in yellow who guarded with his hammer.
The superhuman blow caught him off guard and staggered the old soldier.
Albie got to his feet as a flyer strafed his opponent. He ran at the man intending to strike him with the but of his musket.
A man in an orange coat pushed a bayonet into his side. Albie rewarded him by smacking him with his club. The orange coat fell to the ground almost broken in half by the blow.
Albie sheathed his dagger and pulled the bayonet out of his side. He was now holding a musket in both hands. One was his the other had a bayonet. His opponent had squashed the crow with his hammer.
The mage made eye contact with the old man. His cold eyes still scared the mage but that did not matter. He threw the bayonet at the old man and began to rush the old bastard.
The sergeant dodged the makeshift javelin and readied his hammer and stance to handle the superhuman thing charging him. The mage swung his club and the old man deflected it.
"Boom!"
The mage felt his leg give out. He looked to see his leg bloody and mangled. He saw another man in yellow holding the shrapnel gun. His leg tried to heal but it was slow going as the old man closed in on him.
The mage swung his musket hoping to hold off the old man. The Sergeant smashed his other leg. The old man stepped back to avoid a wild swing. The old soldier looked ready to step back in for another swing. He stepped back and looked into the city.
"Fuck!" he shouted. "Don't bother with the wagons. If you got good legs get out. Everyone else form up here."
"Father," came Scabs voice in his head. "We are over the wall."
"Rock!" ordered the Sergeant of arms. "You get to the other side and take charge!"
The yellow coat who was reloading his blunderbuss nodded and began to jump through the wall's ruble dodging musket fire from above. A swarm of men in orange began to rush threw the gap. A few men led by the Sergeant of arms formed a wall to fight off the increasing number of corpses.
The mage healed his legs and stood again. His living family were escaping the tide of hungry unliving. Flying or fleeing up the walls or racing the orange coats threw the gap.
The mage began to run to his injured children healing them so they could escape.
He came across one of his ground birds. It had been infected with the unliving black fluid. He healed the creature to the best of his abilities knowing that like him it would never quite heal.
Having the vile liquid in its body the unliving seemed to ignore it as well as the sickly mage.
Albie check his blood stone to find it mostly exhausted. It had gone from the size of his arm to no more than the nail of his smallest finger. Dissolving mostly into an iron smelling powder.
The Stone colossus stepped over the rear guard and sat in the wall. The rearguard and those who had not yet retreated were penned in. All of the forty or so men looked into the crowed of walking corpses new there was no chance of escape.
Maxim blunt that crazy old man stood in between his remaining men and the hoard.
"It's not over yet!" he shouted over the sound of carriage horses being eaten alive. "It's not over until you are dead. Even now you have a choice. You can die scared or you can die laughing in the face of death. You have chosen to laugh in the face of death every day of your lives until now. I hope you are still brave enough to make that choice. If you believe you already know how this ends, I recommend you suck that ball out of your musket now because you will not get another chance to reload."
A hand full of men did just that to the mages shock. At least five men took their own lives on the spot. The rest looked a little braver. They had a new fire in their eyes. They would make one great last stand here until they had all been ripped to pieces by the hoard. The mage almost felt sorry for what he was about to do to them.
"Scab," ordered the mage from a nearby rooftop. "Have the dead men walk backwards into them."
"What?" asked the confused wight.
"Have the mob walk backwards into the survivors until they are pressed against the wall and can no longer resist," Ordered the mage.
We should be able to take them all alive.
Scab ground in confusion and disappointment.
The mass of flesh walked backwards into the line of men who tried to break apart the hoard as they were pushed into the wall.
"You are all very fortunate," declared the mage from the rooftop. "I value your lives too much to kill you all here and now. I fear your having chosen life in this moment has unexpected consequences. As from now on it is my choice who will live and who will die."
The men yelled and screamed as the tide of bodies pushed them against the city wall until they were trapped. As they were pressed up against the wall the men screamed and cried themselves mute unable to do anything else.
"We shall collect them in about an hour," thought the mage to his children. "By then they should be to exhaust to fight us. Scab we shall divide them up after we have properly secured them. In the meantime, chase down those that escaped the walls. It is first come first served do what you want with the ones you manage to catch outside the walls. But leave each other's prizes alone."
A chorus of exited voices and howls echoed in the mages mind.