The human's saber whizzed over Ordren's head. The Tiger ducked quickly, bolting under and past the burly man, taking a mouth full of entrails with him. The man collapsed with a sickening thud, but it was barely audible over this horrible battle.

Located on the Plains of New Hope, twenty miles south of Krouser, the armies had smashed head on. The joint armies of Krouser, Clysto, and Multinri merged into one, massive wall of allied hope. The army of the oppressor seemed to stretch for miles, but with their combined forces, the sides were pretty even. If only the legions of Languard would arrive, to tip the scales in their favor, it would be impossible to be defeated.

Ordren dodged a charging black knight, a human loyal to the dark lord, sweeping his trident low, hoping to catch a fresh Tiger on the point. Ordren bounded on the back of the horse, his front paws grasped the large man's shoulders. The human grunted in confusing as a horn appeared beside each of his eyes, and Ordren put his nose inches from the back of the human's head.

The horns charged with lightning only a second later, and the man's body began flailing about uncontrollably. His helmet popped and chimed as the electricity coursed through his skull. Ordren couldn't see inside the helmet from the rear, but the smell of burning flesh over took him, and he jumped off.

The horse continued to stampede away, more with fear now than the will of the rider. The man fell off a short distance away, twitching lightly as the last bits of Ordren's surge faded from his body.

Ordren spun quickly as one of his fellow Krouser soldiers fell back, screaming. The human, one that Ordren recognized as Kolix, landed on his back with force enough to knock his helmet off, which rolled directly up to Ordren's feet. The human was grasping a very long spear, that was buried into his stomach. He coughed a few times, whimpering in both fear and pain as the Dragoon lifted him on the point of the weapon, then slung him into the unknown reaches of combat.

Ordren saw himself in the Centaur/Dragon's eye before he even knew he was there. The Dragoon only glimpsed him as the Tiger sunk his teeth into the monster's neck. The Dragoon instantly had his free hand around Ordren's throat, and began clubbing him with the shaft of his spear. The Tiger realized when the spear didn't connect in the rhythm it had been, and jerked his head hard, propelling himself off the monster's chest, barely avoiding the rising spear tip. The Dragoon coughed, or attempted to, as red brighter than his skin rolled off his hand and chest.

Suddenly, a Baku slammed its furry head into the Dragoon's side, and tossed him further into the fray. The man atop the Baku was dressed in teal and greenish garbs, no doubt from Multinri. He saluted quickly, then spurred the giant dog. The man shot a pure Zan between the eyes with a well placed crossbow bolt, and was reloading as the Baku trampled a Rocky Fur.

Ordren turned in time to see three Dragons descending into the battle. A pure bred, a purple one, undoubtedly a Naga relative, and a bone Dragon. One of the most feared units of the enemy army, were the Dragons tainted with the Joker blood line. Atop that one's back, however, was the real opponent. His black silhouette perched on the Dragon, his left hand grasping the bare neck bone of his mount, the other extended outward, holding what some called "The Sword of Bane". The long, dark blade was horizontal, as it often was held. Looking like nothing more than a long, thin shadow, the black beam held steady as the monster came closer. His left foot was situated somewhere on the creature's back, and his right was propped on the shoulder blade. The most intimidating thing was the long, black cape that flew behind him, only further proving he was on the approach, as it battled the wind behind him.

The two following Dragons darted left and right, with turning grace not readily known to most Dragons. The third, the dark chariot, dove strait into the war. Ordren saw it plummet into one of the allied brigades, and as soon as he landed, men and monsters alike flew up from the impact location.

Ordren wasted no time. As fast as he could, which was pretty fast, he sprinted towards the location where the curse for all this landed. With new found resolve and vigor, he bounced past monsters and men, tearing out throats, separating legs from bodies, arms from torsos. He was a one monster slaughterhouse, much like his intended target.

Pain rushed through Ordren's confused skull as he suddenly not only stopped, but headed the other way. He landed harshly, rolling a few yards into a hop that returned him to his feet. The Beserker stood solemn, weapon limply in his right hand, dangling at his side. A customary Durahan stance. This Naga's cousin had, Ordren thought, placed his sword directly in front of him. The Beserker, however, seemed a little too surprised by the contact to really consider that it was on purpose.

Ordren's shoulder's bobbed slowly, his nose filling with the metallic aroma of fresh blood. He had a cut right between the eyes now, but it would take a lot more than that to stop him.

Before he could make any movement against his new found foe, the chaos of battle overwhelmed them both. Out of seemingly nowhere a tall, pure bred Raiden slammed his flying kick right into the purple Durahan's helmet. The monster stumbled back, but didn't even get set for the second shot, as the bird monster's knee collided with his midsection. Somehow, the Durahan grappled his attacker, picked him strait up, then slammed him strait down. Ordren heard the crack over all the other sounds, and the last thing he saw was the Beserker, still holding the Raiden down, lift his blade into the air, tip towards his foe, and the gargling screech of a bird as the sword fell hastily, impaling him.

Ordren did not get to intervene, as this happened in only a few seconds. Suddenly, he gasped deeply, the wind knocked out of his mid section. He was rising strait up, then his unseen assailant nailed him again, right in the side.

Ordren found his flight shortened as he slammed into the back of a large human, knocking him to the ground as well. The Tiger caught only a glimpse of the angry man's face before it turned to terror. A Garu appeared between his gaze and Ordren's, and with blinding speed, slashed the man's face for a grand total of eight times, finishing it up by pouncing on his head, and biting off the man's ear.

Ordren turned from the quite amusing site when he realized what his opponent was. His head turned sharply to see the Titan had a human in each hand. The one in his right hand, held by the waste, the one in his left, upside down by his legs. The Golem's left hand swung out wide, knocking two humans, on horseback, far away from where he was. The man in that hand was limp now, after being used as a club. The other man held his sword with both hands, slamming the point into the Golem/Suezo's forearm again and again. No penetration came, as Ordren noticed he flew the colors of Krouser.

The Titan, amused, opened the large mouth on his chest. The man screamed an unearthly scream as his upper body entered that dark chasm. It slammed shut with a crunch, and the yellow Golem chuckled again as he chewed, ripping the rest of the body away from his crimson stained grin.

Ordren ran at the monster full speed, and it threw the lower half of his meal at the Tiger. Missing of course, the Titan set his feet for a battle. The giant fist reared back and flew forward. Ordren bounded into the air, landing on the back of his hand. As the Golem stumbled forward, the Tiger quickened his pace.

Before his strike could be placed, Ordren found a yellow wall blocking his way. How the Titan got his other hand up so quickly, he would never know, as the Tiger latched on anyway. The Golem growled as he slung his hand about, trying to toss the insect off it. Ordren gave none as he ripped and tore at the back of the hand. Suddenly, he saw the teeth directly in front of him, and bounced off. The other hand swatted the location the Tiger had been, and the Golem howled furiously as he slapped his new found wounds.

Before another exchange was made, not one, not two, but three Rippers tackled the Titan on his back, and did what their namesake would suggest.

Ordren turned from the horrid bellowing of the Golem, realizing that he had no idea where the true fiend was now. He stopped, taking in the screams and assorted tortured sounds of war. Why had it come to this? Where was Languard? Where was Garuda? They needed them now...

The thoughts fell by the wayside, like all the corpses here, as a Joker made a mad, head on attack at Ordren. The Tiger bounded to the side as the scythe slashed strait into the ground. The Joker pulled once, and it didn't come free. On the second pull, it came up with a snap. He glanced down at the splintered piece of wood he held, then back towards his would be victim. He saw the snarl only for a moment, as the fangs were around his head in the next.

Ordren stared down at the bloody foe he straddled, and spit the blood back to its owner. Joker blood tasted horrible. Of course, to him, all blood really did. If he had a taste for it, he would have probably deserted with all those monsters who wished to join the black warlord.

Suddenly, one scream caught Ordren's attention. Through all the sounds on this day, that one yell tapped into his ears like no other, and he had no idea why. He turned his head to the left, to see several humans backing up from something. A few clings and clangs echoed forth, then suddenly, a Hermes flew into two of them, knocking them back towards Ordren. The Hermes rolled and landed right in front of the pausing Tiger. He held a sword hilt, that carried only a quarter of a blade now. His chest plate, once a wonderful blue, for the most part impregnable, had three giant gashes in it. Not scratches, mind you, slash wounds that had completely passed through the armor, to form an unmistakable letter K.

Ordren only glanced up as one entire side of men shattered at the waists, some being slung off from the attack into the distance. The other men tried valiantly to attack, but it was then, Ordren's eyes fell on their foe.

His foe.

The black Durahan fell to one knee as a sword passed harmlessly over him, his own blade reached up and cut the man in two. More men fell on him, and he laughed still. Twirling once, he severed two heads, and at the end of the spin, he lifted his blade up and down with quickness unmatchable by men, but they tried anyway. This man actually had his sword up to block, but the blade was weaker than his resolve. It was cleanly cut through, and the Durahan's merciless blade fell completely to the ground, stopping just above the ground between the soldier's legs. As the man fell to his left, and to his right, the Durahan collapsed to a knee, throwing his saber over his shoulder to impale a charging human. He flipped the attacker over his head in the same motion, and the corpse knocked down two of his fellow men.

Ordren began walking forward slowly as the butchery continued, taking in as much of his advisory's tactics as he could. The black knight spun at the sound of hooves, and saw the charging paladin and his mount. The Durahan chuckled lightly as he braced for the assault, noting another rider falling in behind the first.

The blade passed like a blur as the first rider swung his blade downward, white armor glistening as he rode. The Durahan had went low, however, and the horse's legs, all four, shattered at what seemed like the same time. The mount toppled, and sent the white knight into the blood soaked ground. The second rider charged on the crouching Durahan with a passion, but Ordren could sense this opponent's confidence. The black, shadowed beam went up and through the air in a swift vertical pass, and as the rider rode on, it came back down across his back. The Durahan stood slowly as the man shattered into three vertical slices, the horse bounding off in fear.

The paladin charged him on foot, the last battle before Ordren would be engaged with this walking blood bath. The Tiger's paws grew sticky from the scarlet canvas they walked on, belonging almost exclusively to the artist before him.

The white paladin and all his glory traded blows with the suit of black armor. The human may, or may not, have sensed the amusement that radiated from this monster, but even if he could, it would not have stopped him. He had to try, for his family, his nation, his home. Suddenly, the two locked swords in a bid for dominance on this battlefield, both edges blood soaked. Then, Ordren realized the sheer size of the blade.

At least a foot in width, it was the largest sword he had ever seen. It was strait from hilt to tip, but was immeasurably long, and it boggled the mind how he could wield something so large as if it was a controlled blur. At some times, with only one hand. No wonder men and monsters had shattered before it.

"God...give me strength..." The Paladin hissed between clinched teeth.

"No, but I shall give you peace." The mocking Durahan chuckled.

The white warrior had little chance as the monster slung the sword upward. The paladin held the hilt true, but found both hands up in the air. In the same blur, that even Ordren couldn't keep up with, the paladin's arms shattered at the elbows. He collapsed to his knees, each limb falling to the ground, the one still clasping his sword. The powerful Durahan only chuckled again as the man's head began to slide off as well, landing in a pool of blood with a very disheartening plop.

"My turn." Ordren thought as he bolted towards the creature.

The black Durahan laughed aloud this time, as the sword fell full length between them, pointing directing at Ordren.

"Next, I presume."


Ordren's eyes shot open. All he could see was darkness. Smelt like dirt, and death. He couldn't move, he was surrounded by it. What happened?

Dig, digging was all he could do. Which way was up? How did he get here?

He wasn't hurting anymore, at least. However, he was cold. This earth that surrounded him, so very cold.

"What is that..." Ordren thought as he felt something, something beckoning him, "Who is that?"

He began digging in that direction, still pondering what spell had placed him in this earthen prison. Was the battle still raging? Suddenly, the dirt became very loose, very dry. The Tiger felt his paw shoot up into the night air. Well, it was a cold, night too. Some water ran down his arm, as he continued to dig.

Ordren fought his way free from the grass and mud that clung all over him. His eyes darted up at the clouds over head, the cold, wet droplets of rain landing on his face. He was cold all over, but strangely, wasn't shaking.

His eyes darted around nervously, as there was nothing here. Absolutely nothing. No armies, no bodies, no blood or fallen banners. He was utterly alone. Turning his gaze north, he wondered if Krouser had been sacked, and the remaining armies fled to Languard, with all of their dead.

It was dark, the clouds covering most of the light. The rain fell hard now, and Ordren couldn't see a terribly long distance before him. He did, however, see a solitary tree vaguely in the distance, and walked towards it. His fur was soaking wet, still cold, but the only thing that bothered him, was that it didn't bother him.

Just as he was almost under the tree, he saw a large, silver scythe protruding from the side of it. Ordren looked on suspiciously as the Joker came from around the trunk.

"Welcome back." He spoke, the clown mask on his face twisted into the classic grin they were known for.

Ordren walked under the tree slowly, knowing all too well whose side these fiends worked for.

"What happened of the battle? Did your people win?"

"My people?" The Joker asked lightly, "I have no people, good Tiger. However, the battle you refer to, yes, the dark army won."

Ordren was silent, his teeth clinched, his eyes straining in fury, he managed to growl out, "Did they reach Krouser?"

"And destroyed it."

Ordren wanted to cry, thought he was crying, but no tears came. Perhaps the ones that did merged with the cool rain on his cheeks.

"My name is Grimlock, nice to make your acquaintance." The Joker giggled and outstretched his hand.

"I'm..." The Tiger stopped, as his heart sank deeply, "...I don't know."

The Joker's hand waved over his face, switching his mask to a genuinely concerned look as he spoke, "You, don't know? You remember so much else."

"I don't know..." The Tiger splurged once more.

"That is odd. Never had this side effect before." The Joker pondered, switching his mask in a flash, to one of thought.

"Side effect? Of what?"

The Joker's hand sped past his face, revealing that all too sickening smile again as he spoke the simple word, "Reanimation."

The Tiger looked on, slightly perplexed by this notion as he asked, "Reani-what?"

The Joker spun quickly as he spoke, "Necromancy, my friend!"

The Tiger didn't hold the same amount of joy to this news as Grimlock did. He walked slowly towards a puddle collecting at the base of the tree. One, solitary blot of lightning held between his horns as he looked at his reflection. All the meat of his nose and most of his face had rotted off, and his fangs were shown fully at all times. His once proud blue and white mane was now a dull, old gray. He had become a Bargest, he was a Tiger embraced with undeath, the same that befalls a Tiger that is linked to a Joker.

"Well, I guess we need a name for you, remember it yet?"

"No, and why should I help you? Why did you bring me back here?!" Ordren snapped.

"Simple, I needed willing souls to reanimate, ones that have unfinished business, or felt they unjustly died."

The Tiger said nothing, merely stared at the Joker as his teeth began to quiver, issuing a low snarl.

"I know that this place has many recruits for my cause, since many of you have something in common that you want." The Joker pointed behind him.

Through the downpour, the Tiger could see a row of walking dead. Humans and monsters alike, not living, but standing. All were armed, and prepared for battle, just as they died.

"Your will to return was immeasurable, and through that will, the hand of undeath strengthened you far more than most of the others. However...", The Joker spoke as he pointed behind the Bargest, "Some were just as much as yours."

The Tiger turned his head to see a man standing in the rain. His once white armor was blood spattered and mud covered. The white beard that he owned had long since turned gray, and the meat on his face was decomposed to an almost unrecognizable point. His neck, and each arm, at the elbow, had crude stitching, and Ordren recognized him right away. He had even collected his old, rusty, dull white sword.

"Will you help us?" The man asked in a deep, almost melodic voice. It seemed to echo behind itself several times, and was almost godly.

"Help you what?" The Tiger asked, glancing back towards the Joker.

"My master wishes us to stop something from occurring. The reason I came here was to gather those who wanted the opportunity to stop him most, wanted to defeated him, but couldn't..." The Joker balled his hand into a fist, "The ones that still remember him!"

The Tiger's head lowered a bit as he seemed to attack the word with his voice, "Kade..."

"Here is your crash course in history, my dear Tiger. Kade had smashed the forces at Languard, and defeat Garuda in combat only a day before he marched north and engaged your army at this location, once known as The Plains of New Hope. Now..." His scythe sped in front of him, switching grasps, and leaving the sad mask on his head, "The Plains of Dead Hope, where your army was crushed."

Ordren fell to the ground, laying his chin on his crossed paws. If he could cry, he would.

"Languard, Clysto, and Krouser. All destroyed entirely, but have since been rebuilt. Multinri was the only citadel to stand before his wrath, and a few, heroic monsters managed to seal Kale in a disc stone, and shattered it into five pieces. They placed one in each of the city's castles, and hid the fifth. Now, some seek to revive the Kade, the Destroyer."

"How long..." The Tiger almost choked on the words, "Was I gone?"

The Joker switched faces to a serious mask, "Too long."

The Tiger remained silent a long time. He thought about how he wasn't breathing, or shivering in this cold. The proud Tiger, Ordren, that had lost his name, his life, even his very soul, had now returned to nothing. The only driving force in him was the will to smite that one foe. To kill that one enemy, and any who would seek to reclaim or awaken that vile legacy to run rampant again.

The Tiger glared up at the Joker, who's stare continued to ask the question. Once known as Ordren, he spoke with a solid voice.

"Plague, and I am yours to command."

-Stay Tuned- CHB

Oooooh..A nice Joker. Great. And an undead army. Now _this_ is something to read about.

Wow. Very nice. I love a good battle. The gore level was perfect; not too little, not too mcuh. I have two questions, though. Did this battle happen before the events with Harvenger or is this during the same time. Also, has Orden and the others been "reamnimated" during the current events with Harvenger? Just a few timeline questions. Thanx for a great instalment.

Hey CHB, this is Jonathan. Good to see Chapter 10. Definatly shaping up to be quite interesting.

Why did Garuda have to die?

LOL

Patience...

And with a single word, he adds to my immense suspence.

I am also a bit confused on when or where this takes place but I would think that the reanimated army of creatures is the army that Harvenger and his friends just ran into. Very good story though.