“We can’t take them; we have to go.”
“Cleave is right. Let’s get out of here,” Tarka said.
“I’m not leaving. My friends died fighting these people. I’m staying.”
Krug grimly drew his eyebrows together and continued to fight. Two more robed figures showed up with six more skeletons that joined the fray. Cleave sighed. He wanted to run but refused to leave his friends. They were gonna lose the game, but staying friends was more important to him. The elf leapt from behind a tree, thrusting his sword out and killing one of the remaining zombies. A skeleton struck with its scimitar, but he ducked it and managed to slide back to avoid another blow.
Cleave fought his way past a few skeletons to get to Krug and Lurupine. They attacked in tandem, taking down a couple of undead before getting struck with a few blows themselves. Cleave took two blows from scimitars simultaneously that cut straight through his armor.
Cleave:
HP: 49% (-16%)
Stamina: 56%
Mana: 100%
Character Status:
Healthy
Tarka and Berryl were having their own difficulties. Eight skeletons came after them, slashing at them with their scimitars, keeping the two from getting close enough to land any attacks. After two minutes of fruitless fighting Tarka growled.
“That’s it, this is bullshit. I’m out of here.”
“What? But you can’t run, we’ll all be screwed,” Cleave yelled as he dodged a skeleton’s attack.
“Sorry Cleave, but if we die, we lose. One of us has to stay alive to try and finish this game,” Tarka said, a little louder this time.
Berryl glanced at Tarka then spoke loudly as well. “Yeah guys, you’re on your own. This kitty is gonna split.”
Tarka and Berryl dodged two more blows from skeletons and retreated several steps. Tarka’s smoky, jerking form vanished from sight, and Berryl dashed to the left and disappeared into the forest. The necromancers made motions in the air with their hands, and the skeletons that attacked the kobold and catgirl now focused on the remaining party members.
Well, that was it. They were completely hosed now. Rage exploded inside of Cleave. He attacked the skeleton in front of him with renewed vigor, blocking its attack and laying several slashes across its bones.
Krug and Lurupine were visibly angry as well, but they were too busy focusing on the fight to say anything. Cleave was gonna have a few words with Tarka’s real life counterpart after they died. Leaving him like that was inexcusable. He understood wanting to win, but leaving your friends to die wasn’t right.
Krug, Lurupine, and Cleave fought as hard as they could, but the massive numbers of undead quickly overwhelmed them. Cleave looked out, and it seemed like there were millions of skeletons in front of him, even though it was more like thirty.
Attacking the resilient undead with all of his might was taking a toll on his stamina. He began to breathe heavily; his heart slammed in his chest. His character screen opened.
Cleave:
HP: 49% (-16%)
Stamina: 5% (Stamina low! Unable to perform some actions.)
Mana: 100%
Character Status:
Healthy
Cleave tried to lift his sword but found it too heavy. He shuddered and dropped his weapon. A skeleton struck and sent him to the ground.
Cleave:
HP: 41% (-8%)
Stamina: 5% (Stamina low! Unable to perform some actions.)
Mana: 100%
Character Status:
Healthy
Cleave lay on his back and stared up at the forest canopy. The dead tree limbs gave the darkness an eerie feel that chilled his bones. Skeletons approached him and looked over his prone form. Their eye sockets were infinite dark wells. The creatures seemed to be grinning as they raised their scimitars over him.
Krug barreled into the skeletons with his shield in front of him, pushing them away from Cleave. Lurupine stood over the elf, swinging her staff in wide arcs to create a protective barrier around him. The dryad wasn’t fighting with her usual ferocity, and Krug seemed to be lumbering more than was normal. They were getting tired, and they’d probably fall like he did.
Cleave took a deep breath and sighed, resigning himself to his party’s dark fate.
The necromancers smiled as they controlled their undead. Some of them had taken to throwing dark bolts of energy at the half giant, wearing his hit points and stamina down even more. A bush rustled beside them, but they were so focused on their attack they didn’t notice.
From the bush a smoky, glitching form rushed the robed figures. The first necromancer didn’t see the figure until it was on her. Tarka raised her short sword above her head and slammed it into the necromancer’s gut. “Surprise asshole,” Tarka said, as the necromancer clutched her wound. A quick slash felled the wounded necromancer. The kobold leapt toward another foe, and he fell quickly.
The remaining necromancers turned and fired bolts of dark magic at her. Four of the bolts seemed to bend as they came into contact with the kobold, but two hit, driving the small woman back. As Tarka fell to the ground, there was a rush of dead foliage behind the necromancers.
“Hey guys, nice to see you again.” Berryl rapidly slashed her claws along the back of one of the necromancers, and he died before he turned around. Another faced her, and Berryl leaned down and rammed him with her shoulder, sending him into another one of his comrades.
Tarka recovered from her fall and threw a dagger at one of the necromancers while he fired a dark bolt at her. The smoky magic around Tarka shimmered and the dark bolt landed above her head. Her dagger landed in the necromancer’s stomach. The wounded necromancer had little time to lament her wound as Berryl latched onto the woman and cut into her neck, severing her jugular, quickly killing her.
The necromancer with the gold necklace bolted into the forest as the catgirl and kobold turned on him. The other two prepared to run, but Tarka and Berryl stopped them.
“Aw, you don’t want to leave, do you? The party is just about to start,” Berryl mocked.
“Drop your spells,” Tarka said as she pointed her short sword at the necromancers.
The necromancers did, and the remaining zombies of their dead comrades dropped to the ground. The skeletons stopped attacking the party members and looked back in the direction of the dead necromancers.
The skeletons looked at each other, then at the bewildered half giant and dryad. They shrugged their bony shoulders and walked off in all directions into the forest.
The necromancers raised their hands in an attempt to control the skeletons. Tarka poked one of the necromancers with her sword. “Don’t even think about it, jerkoff.”
Krug and Lurupine helped an exhausted Cleave to his feet while Berryl set to securing their new prisoners. Tarka snuck beyond the tree line to see if any more necromancers were waiting for them.
TWELVE
Tarka searched the area where the green robed necromancers had been staying. The encampment that’d been there only moments before was gone. A large clearing filled with black grass with a brook flowing with purplish water was all that remained. The kobold came back to find her friends standing over their captives.
“Their gone,” Tarka said.
“All of them?” Krug said.
“Yep, must’ve found some way to poof themselves out of the area.” Tarka walked over to where Cleave sat propped against a tree.
The elf smiled weakly at her. “Thought you left us there.”
Tarka laughed. “Leave and let you have all the glory? Please.” The kobold knelt down and gave Cleave a kiss. “You know I’d never leave you alone to fight a bunch of overpowered undead like that.”
“Yeah, we’re not backstabbing meanie faces or anything like that,” Berryl pulled the rope that held the necromancers’ hands together too tight, and they whimpered.
Krug lumbered over to his bound foes. They looked up at him. He expected to see fear in their eyes, but they w
ere completely calm. This upset the half giant, as he prided himself on striking fear into his enemies. He gripped one of the necromancers’ necks and squeezed, just enough to cut off circulation for a few seconds, before releasing. The blond man’s face hardened, and he scowled at the larger man; but Krug could see that he was shaking a little. It wasn’t abject terror, but it would have to do.
The half giant leaned down and snorted, letting the air from his nostrils brush across the man’s face. “Why did you do it?”
The blond man continued to look up at the half giant, not speaking. His companion, a dark haired man with a thick neck and an Adam’s apple that bobbed when he spoke, answered. “Because you attacked us. That’s why.”
Krug stomped over to the man and bore down on him. “That wasn’t what I was talking about. I mean our guild, the one in the woods that your guild and, apparently, a large number of other people from other guilds… Why did you attack them?”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific. We’ve been fighting a lot in these woods.”
“It was the one with all the people wearing leather and a bunch of scantily clad green people,” Tarka said.
The bigger man’s eyes lit up. “Oh uh...no, sorry. Doesn’t ring any bells.”
Berryl walked up to the man, displayed her claws, and held them to his throat. “Does this ring any bells?”
“Nope, sorry.”
The catgirl slid her foot quickly between his legs and pressed her toe to his privates. “How about that?”
“No, seems kinda kinky,” the big man sneered.
Lurupine’s forest green eyes blazed. She trudged up to the man and grabbed him by the collar. She shook him, and the man’s scowl deepened. “You better start remembering you perverter of nature. Vicious drainer of essence. You know what you and…”
Recognition sparked on Lurupine’s face. The fires in her eyes grew hotter. She reared back and slammed her head against the necromancer’s face. His hawkish nose was askew when she drew back and blood flowed from his nostrils.
Lurupine drew back her fists and began hitting the man. “Bastard. I saw you. You were with them. Tree killer, life torturer. You murdered my friends. You made them walk in death. I will murder you. You will join your friends in the hells!”
The dryad pounded him with every phrase. Krug quickly moved forward, secured Lurupine’s wrists, and pulled her away from the man. Blue tinged purple bruises decorated the man’s chubby cheeks. He wavered for a second. Composed himself again and stared at the dryad as she screamed obscenities and pulled against the half giant’s grasp.
Cleave slowly walked over to the other necromancer. The blond haired man looked down at the elf’s pitiful form and sneered.
With Berryl and Tarka’s aid, Cleave pushed himself up into a sitting position. The elf took a breath. “Look dude, I know this is a shitty situation, but we have questions that need to be answered, and my friends and I think you can do that for us.”
The necromancer looked at him but said nothing.
“I know you’re pissed, but the sooner you answer our questions, the sooner my friends and I will let you go.”
The blond necromancer’s eyes hardened. “Go suck one, you fruity elf.”
Tarka drew her short sword. “Watch your tongue, dick, or I’ll cut it out.”
Cleave held up his hand. “Dude, make this easier for both of us. First, why did you and a bunch of other guilds attack the Fey Wilder? Our guild that was located in these woods. We know your guild members were there during the attack because our friend saw you.” Cleave motioned to the still struggling dryad.
“Like my friend said, we’ve been fighting a lot in the woods lately.”
“My super awesome cat eyes saw you had dryad crystals.” Berryl pointed to her thin pupiled brown eyes. “You had a bunch of them, and the only place you could’ve gotten that many was at our guild. So who sent you there? Was it the Crimson Kingdom?”
The necromancer’s eyebrows went up. “The who?”
“Shut up. Don’t tell them squat,” the bloodied necromancer said.
Tarka sighed. “I’m getting tired of this.” She walked over and pressed the tip of her sword in the larger man’s hand. He squealed and struggled against his bond as pain webbed through him.
“Now, talk or that’ll happen to you.”
“Don’t tell ‘em shit, Nigel,” the man said before the sword was driven a little deeper into his hand. He squealed again.
“Talk. Now,” Tarka growled.
Nigel frowned as he saw his friend in pain. “We attacked because our guild master told us we needed dryad crystals. A few of the other guilds were looking for them too, and we saw a whole bunch of dryads in one place. There were too many for just one of our exploratory groups to take out, so we banded together to attack them.”
“Why are you looking for dryad crystals? Are you into making freaky weapons, too?”
“No, and it's no business of yours.”
“Is it any business of yours if your friend gets hurt?” Tarka nodded down at her sword.
“I don’t care if you hurt me. Don’t tell them anything Nigel. The guild master will torture us and then kill us twice,” the beaten necromancer said.
Nigel looked down at his knees and hunched his shoulders.
Cleave chewed his cheek. He really wasn’t into torturing people for information, but they had to find out what was going on. He knew it was stupid, but he was gonna try to reason with the man whose friends were killed by his party.
“You have every right to be pissed with us. We should’ve just come straight to you if we wanted to talk, but we know all the guilds in this area are attacking other guild members and just about anyone else, on sight. If we came to you, we would’ve been attacked.”
Nigel nodded.
“This is a sticky situation, but it can all be over soon. Just tell us what we need, and we’ll let you and your friend go.”
Nigel looked to his suffering friend and then chewed his cheek. He seemed to be rolling options around in his mind then he nodded. “My guild master will slay me many times for this, but we are gathering dryad crystals, among other things, to sell. I don’t know who we’re selling them to, but I heard something about potions being made. We aren’t making the potions, so I don’t know anything about that. Our guild sent us to this wretched wood so we could make some money.”
Cleave’s visage darkened. He had an idea of who might be interested in dryad crystals. He motioned for Berryl to bring out the Scrying Eye. She did and held it out to Nigel.
“This is a Scrying Eye, and we know that it’s supposed to help us see something.”
Nigel looked at it. “Duh, any decent mage knows what that is. It’s a basic magic item.”
“We encountered one of your members before, and he seemed to think it was important. It has a magic lock on it, so we can’t see the vision the other stone is connected to. Do you have any idea as to what place this stone is programmed to?”
Nigel looked into the distance for a moment before jerking his head back. “I heard one of our members talking about a Scrying Eye. Some goblins had it or something. It was supposed to help us see a place that had a bunch of powerful magical reagents. Something to do with life magic. Don’t know any more than that.”
Tarka glared at the other necromancer. “Anything you want to add?”
“Other than I’m in pain? No. My friend blabbed to you all we know about that.”
The party looked at each other and nodded. Tarka withdrew her sword from the man’s hand and cut their prisoners’ bonds. She placed ointment on his wounds and then bandaged them so his swelling would go down.
The necromancers hightailed it as quickly as they could into the woods.
THIRTEEN
Clint leaned against Berryl and Tarka as he gathered his thoughts. He wasn’t sure that the Crimson Kingdom would be playing the role of antagonist in this adventure, since it was created for the convention. Nevertheless, it see
med obvious that they were involved. What they were up to seemed obvious as well. They were paying people to gather dryad crystals and other magical herbs so they could make some kind of potion or maybe an item.
Were they trying to make powerful weapons so they could take over Clearwater by brute force? It wasn’t the way the Crimson Kingdom usually operated, but it still seemed likely. They had a large number of allies getting items for them, so they could prepare for...something. Perhaps things would be clearer once they had more pieces of the puzzle.
Even if they figured out what they were up to, how could they stop them with so many allies on their side? Perhaps they should make haste over to Clearwater, so they could help the city, beleaguered from its last run in with the Crimson Kingdom, muster a defense. Cleave shared his thoughts with his party.
Tarka stroked her maw. “I don’t know. It seems a bit too obvious for one of Larkin’s schemes.”
“Fits his profile though. He’s a jerk who wants to rule everything,” Berryl said with a pout.
Lurupine rested her head on one of Krug’s massive arms. He furrowed his brow as he stroked the dryad’s vine like hair. “We need more information. We can’t conclusively say anyone is up to anything yet. Could be some random group that wants a bunch of magic reagents and is paying others to get them, no matter the cost.”
“Let’s figure out what this Scrying Eye thing does. It’ll probably tell us more,” Berryl rolled the little stone around in her palm.
“The thing is, we don’t know how to do that,” Cleave said.
The party was silent for a few minutes as they contemplated their next move. Cleave’s thoughts were shattered when Tarka’s tail thumped hard against the ground.
“I know who could possibly tell us.” She grinned, showing all of her tiny, sharp teeth. “Remember that troll we visited a few days ago, the one who told us where Devdan Erwynn’s supposed grave was?”
Cleave remembered the encounter well. In their last adventure, his party visited a troll in the woods to find out the location where an elf had been buried with a magic item, the Ring of Treesoul, which his party was looking for. They didn’t have the money to pay the troll for his information, so Tarka offered her “services” to him in exchange.
The Tainted Wood Page 9
