by Kyle Johnson
Aranos opened his mouth to speak, but Geltheriel held up a hand and continued. “It is their bite that is most feared, however,” she explained gravely. “The tales tell that gorruks were created by a curse, long ago, and while it is rare, it is possible for them to transfer that curse to another through their bite.”
“What kind of a curse?” Aranos asked warily. “Do you turn into one of them or something?” Last thing we need is a zombie apocalypse, he muttered silently.
“The curse of hunger,” Rhys corrected. “As I have heard it, gorruks are given an endless hunger for flesh, and the only meat they will not devour is that of their kind.”
“Indeed,” Geltheriel nodded. “That hunger quickly drives them mad, and they are usually feral and barely intelligent. Those who receive their curse eventually fall prey to the same madness and attempt to consume all around them.”
Aranos frowned at her words. That would be a crappy curse, he realized, and it would be one the AIs could do easily. It would suck to always feel like you’re starving. “We’ll have to be extra careful around their teeth, then,” he nodded. “My guess is that, if they’re as hungry as you say, the moment they spot prey, they’ll attack, right?”
Geltheriel nodded. “Gorruks possess a small amount of low cunning,” she agreed, “but no notion of tactics or strategies. They will simply swarm prey, hoping to paralyze it and devour it while it still lives.”
Aranos shuddered at that thought. “Yeah, that would not be a fun way to go,” he said grimly. “And I’m sure that once the first group attacks, the second group will come charging out at the same time. But, if they’re that feral, they’ll just come rushing in; we’ll have to make that work for us.”
They edged slowly forward a minute or two later, plan in hand. As they neared the ambush site, Aranos’ Lifesense began picking up first six, then a baker’s dozen of the waiting gorruks. He could feel them hidden just beyond some piles of tumbled stone ahead, just as Silma had said, and he used his primitive hand signals to pass that information on to the others. Once they were closer, he waited for Saphielle and Geltheriel to get into position before sending Silma a silent command; the wolf immediately jumped out of Stealth and began charging the nearest group of hidden attackers, boosted by Aranos’ Gust of Speed.
In response, the six monsters burst from hiding. They were emaciated to the point of being almost skeletal, with long features and a muzzle-like mouth. The creatures were stooped and moved rapidly on all fours, using their clawed hands to propel them toward the charging fenrin. Their skin was ash-gray and blotched as if diseased, and long tongues dangled from their open mouths, but their stomachs were bloated and swollen.
Aranos shot a Composite Bullet at one of the creatures, his Lifesense Skill trained on the group still in hiding on the other side of the road. The bullet glanced off the monster’s skull, but it seemed to take little notice of the injury except to stumble briefly in its charge. They really are almost mindless, he observed. It’s like they don’t feel pain.
As the creatures neared, Silma’s form seemed to blur, and suddenly, she appeared behind the monsters. She whirled and tore into their rear, ripping at legs and shredding tendons. The monsters staggered but spun around and attacked, their talons glancing off her metallic armor. One managed to claw the wolf, drawing a long, thin line of blood, and all of them seemed to fall into a kind of frenzy, lunging at the fenrin and attempting to grasp hold of her. Silma, though, was far too agile; her teeth severed clawed fingers that reached too close, and she slammed her head into one that tried to climb on her back, sending it flying.
Once the creatures had turned, Saphielle rushed forward and uttered her Battle Shout. Half of the creatures turned to face her, and her spear took the first full in the face. The creature ignored the hideous wound, though, and yanked itself free of the spear, its claws scrabbling toward the Bright Avenger’s flesh. Her shield swept forward, knocking it back into its companions, who stumbled and scrambled over one another, trying to reach the elf.
Geltheriel materialized next to Silma, her blade slashing into one of the creatures that was trying to flank the fenrin. Between her sword and the wolf’s fangs, the gorruks were being shredded mercilessly, and yet they charged onward, heedless of their injuries or pain. Sandwiched between the three Warriors, the creatures had no real chance, but they fought manically and showed no signs of fear.
As the scent of blood drifted in the air, the seven remaining creatures burst from hiding, rushing to join the fray. That was what Aranos had been waiting for; he quickly raised an Earth Wall in front of the gorruks, allowing them to slam into it and rebound to the Road, then wrapped the fallen creatures in an invisible Air Web. The creatures froze, trapped in his Spell, and he could see tiny slashes and cuts erupting along their flesh as the invisible blades of wind tore into them. Yet, despite the Spell, the creatures were still moving, if very slowly; they were apparently strong enough to overcome his Web partially and would be free in less than a minute. Hopefully, that was long enough.
A scream of pain tore his attention away from the trapped monsters. One of the gorruks had climbed atop its brethren and leaped at Saphielle. Her spearpoint took it in its bloated stomach, and thick, viscous blood was pouring from the gaping wound. The creature lay on the ground, writhing and clutching its abdomen, the first sign of pain any of the gorruks had shown, and Aranos smiled.
“Aim for their stomachs!” he shouted as he called up a Composite Bullet and fired it directly at one of the trapped creatures across the road. The Bullet ripped into the swollen abdomen, bursting it like a foul balloon, and the monster screamed in agony and ceased its advance. A second Bullet took out another of the creatures, who shrieked and slumped in pain.
Geltheriel and Silma immediately shifted tactics. The wolf’s fangs ripped at the creatures’ stomachs, tearing them open in a fetid shower of dark liquid. The gorruks began wailing piteously as they dropped to the ground, their abdomens shredded. Geltheriel’s blade ceased slashing and began thrusting, piercing abdomens with ease.
Saphielle had needed no instruction, having seen the effects of her spear on one creature, and her weapon was perfect for dealing with these monsters. It darted in and out almost faster than Aranos could follow, puncturing the gorruks and sending the last of them to the stones of the road, screaming in pain. A few moments later, none of the gorruks on this side of the road were left standing, and the party switched to the other group as Aranos removed his Entangling Web.
A minute later, that group had fallen as well, and the party stood, drenched in foul liquids but victorious. To Aranos’ horror, though, as badly wounded and mauled as the gorruks were, they still mewled piteously in pain. He fired another Composite Bullet into one’s stomach, and it screamed as the bullet tore through its abdomen, but it thrashed and moaned weakly, refusing to expire.
“They will not die like this,” Geltheriel told him, walking over with a grim expression. “Their curse sustains them, keeping them from perishing from their hunger, and the only way to end their suffering is to utterly destroy their bodies.”
“I could burn them,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “That would probably give away the fact that we’re here, though. Acid might do it, but it would take a while….”
Geltheriel shrugged. “Burning is the customary method,” she told him. “And yet, you are correct; the flames of a pyre would be easily seen for miles, and such would be a clear sign to all that we are not moving away as our enemies might think. Still, it does not sit well with me to leave them in pain.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, walking over to the closest creatures. He could feel their agony through his Lifesense Skill, but when he tried to reach out to them with Soulmending, hoping to free their souls from their cursed bodies somehow, his mental probe was rebuffed painfully by a web of evil-feeling, dark energy. He drew in a sharp breath as pain raced briefly through his temples. Okay, so I guess they really are cursed, and I can’t just use Soulmend
ing on them, he thought grimly. I have to burn them, I guess…but I need to block the flames somehow. Well, not really the flames; just the light from them.
He grinned as a simple idea popped into his head and turned back to the others. “Can we pile them all together?” he asked.
“I imagine that you intend to burn them,” Saphielle grimaced. “I do not know that I agree with this decision, Redeemer. While I share your distaste for their suffering, the thought of being hunted again is an unpleasant one.”
“I totally agree,” Aranos smiled ruefully. “I’m hoping that I have an idea of how to stop that.” Saphielle eyed him critically, but he simply grinned at her. “Trust me.” She snorted but turned to the writhing bodies and grabbed a pair by their thrashing feet, dragging them over to make a larger pile. A moment later, Aranos and the others joined her, and soon they were all busily stacking the creatures.
It took them a few minutes for them to carefully drag the writhing bodies into a pile. They had to be wary and avoid the creatures’ teeth, for even in their agony they attempted to devour their attackers. When the creatures were gathered in one place, Aranos began calling up his first Spell. He summoned his Illuminating Mists, but instead of filling the tiny globes with light, he drew on dark mana to power the Spell.
It took him a couple minutes to correctly envision the Spell, but as he did, a shroud of near darkness poured from his hands and spread to cover the area around them. Aranos glanced around, checking how effective the cloud of blackness was at blocking the ambient light. Saphielle, who stood nearest to him a few feet away, was only a shadowy blob, difficult to make out. The sun overhead had vanished, and Aranos had to shift to his True Vision to see beyond the borders of his Spell.
This is pretty effective, he thought somewhat smugly. Now, here’s hoping that it will block the light from a fire just as well….
Taking a deep breath, he faced the writhing gorruks and unleashed a Radiant Blast, bathing the pile of bodies in white-hot flames. The creatures caught fire almost instantly, and their wailing turned to a horrific screeching as they were consumed. Aranos gritted his teeth against the sound – he’d have to see if he could create a dome of sonic mana to block sound for the next time he did something like this – but he was gratified that the flames were no brighter than glowing embers in the middle of the dark shroud.
This doesn’t seem like it should work, he realized, considering what was happening. Dark mana is a counter for light mana, not fire or radiant mana. I guess that means that really, only the heat from the flames is actually fire mana; the glow must be light mana being released. That seems like a big inefficiency; I should see if I can create some kind of radiant heat without all that glow.
The heat from the fire and the scent of burning flesh radiated through the haze of dark mana, but the blackness absorbed the glow of the pyre almost completely. Aranos waited for several minutes, feeling the blaze with his Sense Mana Skill. Eventually, the mana within the pile of bodies began to dwindle and finally vanished, allowing Aranos to dismiss the shroud.
Geltheriel strode up to the pile of ash and nodded approvingly, touching the soot with a boot. “An effective solution, Oathbinder,” she told him. “If somewhat disconcerting, being able to sense a blazing fire but see only a dim glow. Now, let us hope that their final deaths do not alert their masters to our presence.”
Yeah, I guess we can hope, Aranos agreed silently, staring at the pile of ash. Maybe if their Spell is telling them we’re heading away from them, they’ll think something else got their creatures…or, maybe, they’ll realize that we’re trying to trick them. No way to know.
He sat down heavily, glancing at Silma as the fenrin padded over to him and rested her chin on his lap. That was a disgusting smell, pack leader, he heard her voice in his mind. Warn me, next time, and I’ll go scout somewhere far away from where you’re doing that.
Aranos couldn’t help but agree; the odor of charred flesh was magnified by his new Perception and Scent Ability, and he was breathing shallowly to avoid taking too much of it in. Maybe I’ll figure out how to join you, he concurred. Don’t worry, we’ll be moving soon.
He gazed back up at Geltheriel. “Can you tell me more about these things?” he asked her, trying not to breathe too deeply. “The gorruks? You said they were created, right?”
Geltheriel nodded. “Gorruks are also known as ‘Devourers’, for they are voracious hunters and are never sated. They prefer to strike from hiding and swarm their prey. Once they have drawn blood, they will descend into a frenzy, trying to overwhelm their prey and bear them to the ground, using their claws to paralyze them. Once the prey is helpless, only then will they feast upon them, for their jaws are weak and imprecise, unsuitable for combat.”
Aranos shuddered at the thought of being held down while those things ate him. “That’s…really disturbing,” he admitted. “Their souls were in agony; I could feel it with my Soulmending Skill. That’s a nasty curse.”
Rhys sighed as he sat down next to the Sorcerer. “There are many such tales of the depredations of the Darkness, Liberator, and some are far worse than this one. Our legends hold that the first gorruks were created when an uruk tribe committed some unknown sacrilege against the Darkbringer herself. In return, she cursed them with endless hunger and drove them from their homes. How much of that is true and how much merely invention, though, I could not say.”
“Wait,” Aranos asked curiously, “if they’re mindless and feral, how do they…well, make more gorruks?”
Geltheriel snorted. “The word you are seeking is ‘breed’, Oathbinder,” she supplied. “Or perhaps, ‘reproduce’. It is not such a difficult word. Try it with me…”
“Ha ha,” he grumbled. “Fine. How do they reproduce?”
“I am not certain, to be honest,” she shrugged. “It is possible that lust or the need to breed temporarily overcomes their madness. I have never heard of a young gorruk, however, which leads to me believe that others of their kind are created rather than born.”
“If one considers that these are accursed uruks,” Rhys offered, “it feels likely that they reproduce by biting more uruks. It is the simplest answer, and it does not require one to imagine these loathsome things mating.”
Saphielle shuddered. “And now that you have placed that most disturbing image in my mind, Druid, you will be responsible for listening to me speak of my nightmares tomorrow morning. I will be certain to have as many as possible.”
“I might join you, Saphielle,” Aranos agreed, shuddering as that image popped instantly into his head – exactly, he was sure, as the elf had intended. He shook his head to dismiss the unwelcome thought and rose to his feet. “But we need to get moving, just in case something really is following us. We’ll keep going carefully, though; I can’t imagine that these things are all that was left to stop people from using the Roads.”
They dropped back into Stealth and slipped forward silently. Aranos’ words had proven prophetic: they encountered several more hidden packs of gorruks along the way, each group larger than the one before. The final pack, almost two dozen strong, had required a different strategy, since the creatures might have swarmed any one of the Warriors in those numbers. Instead, Aranos had used an air Web to trap both groups, slowly damaging them and holding them helpless, and split the nearest group with an Earth Wall. The Warriors easily handled each of the split groups one at a time, and once he removed his Web from them, they repeated the tactic with the second group.
As he used his Soulmending Skill on the shrouded funeral pyre, he considered the recent battles. The gorruks, while dangerous in numbers, were so ravenous that they simply rushed at prey, clawing and biting, making it easy to counter their limited tactics. To be honest, he realized thoughtfully, regular uruks are harder to deal with. They have tactics and coordination, so we need better strategies to beat them. I wouldn’t want to face a hundred gorruks or anything, but I’d rather fight twenty of them than twenty of the uruks, easily.
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br /> The next group awaiting them, though, was much more serious. Silma found them first, her sensitive nose picking up the scent of enemies minutes before Aranos’ Scent Ability was able to detect the same. She returned to the party with an image of a half-dozen figures in heavy, if somewhat rusted armor, bearing myriad weapons. The figures roughly resembled uruks but were larger and more muscular, with heavier fur.
What truly concerned Aranos, though, was the tall, pink-skinned figure at the back of the group clutching a staff and clad in only a loincloth. If that’s not a spellcaster, he thought heavily, I’ll eat my hat. I mean, I would if I wore a hat. Either way, that thing’s gonna be trouble.
He halted and told the others what he’d seen, wincing at the grim expression on Geltheriel’s face.
“I cannot be certain,” she replied slowly, “but by your description, the warriors may be dabruks. They are similar to uruks but larger, stronger, and more intelligent. An Evolved uruk, if you will. They are dangerous and clever warriors, but alone, they would be no real threat.
“The other, though…I believe that is a kerruk, although I have never seen one. As you guessed, it will be a potent wielder of magic, able to assist its allies and to hinder its enemies equally well. This will be a more difficult battle than we have faced on this road, Oathbinder.”
“Okay,” he sighed, thinking quickly. “Well, they’re blocking the road, and we’re probably not going to be able to sneak past them; plus, we have to assume that the kerruk can track us with magic if we try. So, here’s what we’re going to do…”
Several minutes later, Aranos slipped forward, wearing the Diadem of Concealment. He doubted it would protect him from any decent tracking Spell the kerruk could manage, but he wasn’t planning on getting that close. He gathered magma mana into the channels running to his arms, while at the same time focusing icy power in his chest, using his Multi-cast Ability for the first time. When the energy was ready, he unleashed three Spells at once: two walls of magma rose in a ‘V’ in front of him, leaving a space several feet wide in the middle, while a 3-second barrage of ice tore into the group of warriors, scattering the creatures and knocking several of them to the ground.
