Legion (song inspired--we'll pretend it was by jason mraz)

The rain drizzled down on the battlefield; the two forces clashed. Black and white collided, hacked, and bled. Hours went by. The white force began to pull back, and were surprised to see their black-clad enemies act likewise. But, they knew better: they were giving them false hope; time to recover, then crush them later.
Leon entered his tent, his guards taking up immediate position outside. He took off his helmet, gazing at the intricate designs emblazened on it's sides.
So much work, he thought, so much planning...
He threw the helmet at the ground. Turning, he stabbed the maps, scattered across the makeshift table. Sitting down, he leaned his head against his folded arms, and his arms against the "table". Commotion from outside drew his attention away from inner thoughts. Growling and wondering what immature squabble his pathetic soldiers could possibly be commenced in at a time like this, Leon stormed out of his tent.
"What's the meaning of --"
"Sir," his second in command, Gerard, cut him off, "a stranger has entered the camp."
"A stranger, you say?" Leon asked. "Is it the King?"
"No, sir, it's--"
"Then get him out of my camp!" Turning on his heel, Leon headed back to his tent. There was a lot to be done if they were going to escape this with their lives, let alone their dignity.
"But, sir, she has an army."
This caused him pause. Sighing, Leon spun around and marched to deal with this meddlesome intruder, with full intentions of telling him exactly where he could put his army...
Alice ignored the gawking idiot soldiers, her long, determined strides carrying her quickly through the camp. She had thought of putting on a helmet, but it just would have gotten in her way. Finally, she arrived at the captain of the army; he looked as though he'd seen an apparition of some sort.
"Stand aside," Alice commanded him.
Leon couldn't move. His legs felt as if they were about to give out beneath his weight. Turning to Gerard, but keeping his gaze locked on this unexpected guest, he spoke, his throat only managing a whisper.
"The leader of the army is--"
"A woman, yes, sir. I tried to tell you, bu--
"No, not that! It's her?!?!"
"Stand aside," Alice repeated, louder, "or be removed forcefully." She spoke, not with content or malice, but calm assurance, merely stating the facts.
"How on earth did you-- and this army? This army? Where did you-- What have you-- How are you, Alice?" Leon finally managed to mumble. Alice made a swift motion with her hand; there was a flurry of movement, and Leon found himself on his back, looking up at a spectral being, his image shimmering in and out of existence.
"Alice--" he whispered, as her battle skirt brushed against his boots, and she walked past him without a look.
The Sal-Kirith had returned to the battle field, a black sea silently approaching the unaware camp, with death in their clenched fists and frozen hearts. The moment their archers were about to let loose their poison-tipped arrows, poised with such accuracy that they had come to be known as the rain of death, a silhouette appeared on top of the hill in which the enemy camp was stationed. The archers looked to their commander for instruction. He made a few swift hand motions, signaling five to redirect their arrows at the woman, and the rest to continue as planned.
Alice raised her hand above her head, then lowered it to point at the Sal-Kirith leader. He flinched. He had had three of his best mages cloak him in darkness. It was impossible for this human woman to have percieved him through such strong magic.
While pondering this phenomenon, the Sal-Kirith leader had forgotten to give the signal to his archers to fire. By that time, it was too late.
The air around the woman shivered, as if it, too, felt the cold that was speedily creeping over the Sal-Kirith. All at once, the Sal-Kirith saw what it was that caused them to feel this way, and they knew it would be useless to run.
Alice and her legion swept over the army, leaving death in their wake, covering the field in a blanket of black armored corpses.