The morning air taste stale and dry as the first beams of sunlight streamed into my tent. I rolled over in my grimy bedroll and breathed in the smell of the hard ground.  As I tend to early in the day, I found myself quite comfortable and began drifting off again. Its not like the whole camp would collapse because one soldier didn't make it up at dawn. However, I seemed to be mistaken as my dreamy state was shocked away by a heavy object crashing into my rickety tent collapsing it on top of my prone form. I gave a muffled yell in surprise and tore at the rough fabric above, eventually after a good deal of squabbling I found the edge and cast it away. As I had wrestled with my quarters I was sure that my whole patrol had its attention locked on me and that the quartermaster would have my head.  But it wasn't human eyes who met mine when I cast my gaze from the verdant grass.

     The figure in front of me was was so emaciated I could see its every bone. The skin was soot black and had a texture like ancient papyrus, stretching and warping over its skeletal frame as it moved.  The eyes had to be what unnerved me the most, the irises were murky crimson and sunken so deep in its grotesque face you could barely tell they weren't just hollow holes in its head. The beast lacked a nose completely and had a perpetually open mouth ringed in gangly pointed teeth.  It wasn't fully facing me originally but it had adjusted itself accordingly during my originally shocked state. It was standing rather quizzically twitching its disgusting head and moaning in a raspy way. With no provocation other than my blinking eyes it launched itself at me with lightning speed, claw-esque fingers scraping at me as I dodged away. It landed, nay, bounced off the ground back to its feet where it immediately lunged again. I tripped on my fallen tents post and fell flat onto my back. I gripped at the ground in a feeble attempt to back myself away from its grasp, but my hands came up with only dew soaked soil. The beast took another high leap and flew over the top of me but not before cutting gashes in my chest with its clawed hands.  The pain was unbearable, though the wounds were shallow, with only a few small drips of blood having welled up and streamed over my midriff.  But the marks burned like they had been branded onto my flesh and the blood in the surrounding vessels turned dark, making it look like I had spilled an ink well under my skin.  I slowly rose and clasped a hand over the gashes, the blood should have been warm, but instead ran cold like a mountain stream. I heard the beast slam into the ground somewhere past where I lay. The creature was back on its feet long before I had recovered and began stalking towards me stooped over at an awkward angle. Its back was twisted unnaturally and a bleached bone skewered out of its dragging left arm.

     "What... are you?" I wheezed. It tilted its head quizzically, like it understood my tone, but not my exact words. The creature let out a deep gurgle and licked a dry tongue around its lip-less mouth. Now it was just playing with me. But its fun, if it can be called so, ended quite abruptly.  A golden shape streaked down from the sky right on top of it with a great whoosh, pinning it to the ground and sending a shock wave of air in every direction. I was buffeted by the blast and stumbled backward. The mysterious streak then stood up to his full height, pulling his mighty silver blade out of the beasts torso.  He was around the size of two grown men, and when turned his golden gaze to me I immediately recognized, it was an angelic warrior.

     His face was perfect as all angelic being's were, his hair was the purest blond and fell over his pale chiseled features in unruly waves. He was wearing a massive silver suit of armor trimmed in gold over an ornate white tunic. A golden emblem of a sword with feathery wings was emblazoned proudly over his heart.  His body rippled with muscle and had a voice as rich as a king and deep as the lowest stone caverns.

      "Young one," He thundered voice echoing in my ears," You must come with me now, your absence from combat is in dire need." I was not one to argue in my current state, especially not to an angel and agreed. He looked down at my wounds and his face softened a little, he took a swatch of his pristine tunic and tore it off. I took it from his massive hand and bound it around my chest tightly. The fabric was extremely light and comfortable, despite how tightly I had wrapped it and my current state of health. I then reached up and grabbed a hold of one of the interlocking silver plates of his armor. He unfurled his massive feathered wings and took off with me hanging on for dear life.  We sped up quickly as he gained altitude and for a moment I thought my grip might slip from the smooth polished metal I clung to. But our speed decreased gradually and my adrenaline quickly cleared my head of the pain my wound pulsed with. The angel turned his head to check I was still there and began to speak. "I and many others are under orders from the high general to bring all women and children to our citadel, you may ask any questions you have when we arrive," He paused speaking to dodge an incoming arrow, " Or you may address them to me as we commute."

     "Whats happening down there," I yelled over the rushing wind. In my combat with the monstrosity I hadn't been able to take in my surroundings, but from up here the view was as good as any and it horrified me. I opened my wind buffeted eyes to find utter chaos below. The entire camp was in ruins, most tents were either collapsed or burning. The battle was made up of hundreds of smaller squabbles between sides. There were no lines in this fight, but the soldiers were easy enough to distinguish. I could make out the forms of Human warriors in there forged metal armors, as well as a few of my people, the Monks of Order, notified by their bald heads and light grey baggy robes. It seems as if only a minuscule few Elven remained in the fight, as I only made out a few bronze armored humanoids in the midst of the chaos. But more noticeable were the numerous black bodies of the same monster that had attacked me. Most warriors still fighting had piles of black dust scattered at there feet or billowing around them in a cloud as their blades disturbed the air. The monsters seemed to fall easily, but as one hit the dirt, threefold pushed forwards to take its place.  All I could hear of it over the rushing wind were far off battle cries and clangs of metal.  The angel must have understood my anguish, as he gave me a good while to view the carnage. I don't know how long it had been before he responded.

     "Very near to sunrise, two rifts were opened very close to your armies position. One was located to the south, the other on the far side to the north..." The angel pulled back his great feathered wings and stalled as an arrow whizzed past, he pointed at a small pouch on his belt, " There is a small scroll of the events compiled during the battle contained within, I must be more diligent in my flight and speech distracts me." I nodded and very carefully released one of my hands from its grip and reached for the pouch. Sure enough there was a  bound scroll contained inside, I grabbed it and undid the string that kept it pristine and rolled. It unfurled very quickly and was almost carried off in the wind, but I clutched it close and read the logs recorded.  It was written by a human, thank goodness, and stained on one corner with crimson, not as appealing. The angel must have received it secondhand from our command tent, or off a poor dead scribe.

     Sunrise, Day 73 , The Rifts Opened,

    They began their assault not long ago, the first engagements with these Vile Shades occurred on the very north and south of  our position. Whatever these creatures are they have most certainly came from beyond, nothing this wicked could exist in our realm. The Demons and Dark elves have yet to reveal themselves, or join combat. Their faith in these shades is worrying, they are easy enough to dispatch but more still pour through the rifts. 

2nd hour, Day 73, Poison Touch,

     The shades deadliest feature has been revealed to us, there touch is deadly. Living things around them have been observed to weaken and die, the grass they tread on is wilting and our soldiers have been have been tainted by their wounds. It turns their flesh against them, first their skin becomes black, then the muscle, the process take minutes at its longest, for some seconds. All we know is that the afflicted are turned into an ash. The screams will never leave my ears. 

4th hour, Day 73, Routed,

      The elves connection with the wilds are their greatest weakness, just being near the shades weakens them severely. But our own soldiers feel adverse affects as well, nausea, chills and paranoia. Our forces are severely weakened, as even the angels, who arrived not long ago, are now flying our women and children to Lerimda. Their great strength and resolve are surely missed and yet more shades pour from the rifts. We are doomed.

     I pried my eyes away from the parchment and took a glance at the sun, no later then Midday, 6th hour. I had been asleep for 6 hours as the battle raged, unable to help my comrades in arms. A disgrace, it couldn't be true, or maybe those things aura is really that strong, was I dying in my sleep? Possibly, it would be reasonable to assume, perhaps my Monk gifted connection to the light preserved me until I was forcefully awoken. I could clearly see mountain where the angels warped to and fro our world, our close proximity to it was one of our camps greatest assets. One which benefited us greatly at the current state of our army, this truly was our last stand.

     We were so close now, I could make out the individual trees on the mountain side and the small pillars of the temple the angels used to travel. For those not native to our lands this concept may be foreign, but to anyone raised here knows of the plains of existence, and the rift like portals used to travel between them. We Humans, the nature bound Elves and the subterranean Dark Elves inhabited the plain of Derimdia a neutral world where light and dark coexist, the Angels live alone in their prosperous astral plane Lerimda, a land of pure light and the Demons share their plain, Zerimdaz, with all manner of unknown creatures only spawned from the dark. Or at least they were unknown, until they showed up to take Derimdia as their own. Now all manner of hellish spawn stream from Zerimdian rifts, but they didn't just stumble their way here. A mysterious, ancient and malevolent entity human scholars labeled The Vile grew weary of being confined, it had been gathering strength for thousands of generations. It used its complied power to open gates to our realm and siege it with its forces, the Vile Corrupted. The demons used this opportunity to seek out and destroy the angels, who had sealed them and this Vile entity in Zerimdaz as early as the beginning of time, at least that's what prophecy reads. Now both work in a symbiosis along with the nature scorning Dark Elves to take this word in the name of The Vile and raze it into oblivion.

     Our warp into the realm of angels was standard, a flash of golden light and a quick feeling of weightlessness. I had made the trip many times as trainee of the Monks, as I remembered, everything about this place was grand, walls made of pure white marble. Everything trimmed in most brilliant gold. The grand domed ceilings were held up be ornately carved pillars and had various tapestries hung upon them. I was quickly escorted to a cot set up in the main hall of this particular for treatment, the healers said that the angelic cloth I wrapped myself in staved off the rot of my wound, but that it could go no longer without proper treatment. The whole building rocked slowly, as all angelic structures do, they are built on the floating islands scattered thought the starry abyss that makes up Lerimda.

     I took to eavesdropping after a time as the healers cleansed and healed my cuts. What I heard, well, it was outrageous. The rumor spreading currently was that, if it was possible, to imbue a human soldier with the power of angelic warrior, a construct of sorts. A dangerous plan, based in yet more prophecy, but it was vague, this hybrid might be uncontrollable, it may be no stronger than Angels or best case, it would be stronger than anything we had seen before. The magics involving it's creation were explicit but its effect, unknown. The logic though, was sound. Angels are immensely powerful and intelligent, but as beings of pure light, they are perfect. As perfect as a achievable that is, this aspect of their character also serves as their biggest weakness. They can never draw the true unbridled force of their power, as they cannot lose control. But humans are in equal parts compelled by the dark and the light. Just enough light to host the power, and just enough darkness to let lose their wrath.

     I lay still in my cot, pondering. So much had happened in the past years, two in fact. The world thrown into chaos, Demons and the sort pouring through those cursed rifts. Those scholars had no idea what they'd done in that unholy dungeon, and to think the rest of us allowed them.  The Vile had been pouring its eldritch whispers into them for some time I'm sure. Someone, anyone could have stopped them. I recall father never trusted them, the way they toiled in the bowels of our monastery in secret. The Monk's of Order had released ultimate chaos, a disgrace won by our own ignorance to challenge those of our Order we always should have. But it didn't matter now, after these long years of nothing but fighting and running it was almost over, whether we won or lost, this war would end today.

     As the day wore on more and more innocents were brought and tended to. As each new wave arrived they brought worsening accounts of the battle , the Dark Elves and Demons had arrived once the Angels had began making purely defensive missions, as many assumed the scoundrels would.   Some very intelligent and powerful sorcerers had closed the rifts for a time, but they had reopened shortly after and more shades poured through. It was grave indeed, until we got the word that the angelic construct had succeeded and was already on the battlefield. It would purge all the evil from our realm and better yet, win us the war. It would take decades to heal the lands, people and cities, but we would, and this time the Vile would be put down forever. So I thought.