His angel fluttered back and alighted on the shoulder of one of the Seraphim of the Temple of Prescience.
“Divinity,” said the new Saint Prescience, a much younger and more deferential individual, “would you like the lodebone?”
“Yes, yes of course,” snapped Gronchard. He rubbed his temples. All this stress was worsening his headache.
The former Saint was now a speck on the snow. There was still no sign of the natives. Presumably they had disrespectfully fled the valley. It was amazing how easily Gronchard had penetrated the Ice Queen’s realm, when her name only recalled memories of hard fought battles and an ultimate uneasy truce. “I am clearly better than I was,” declared Gronchard.
“Yes, Divinity,” said Saint Prescience.
“I have achieved what my past avatars have not!” continued Gronchard, then realised such boasting was unseemly for a god. “Give me the lodebone.”
Tenderly, he took the thigh bone that had once been graced with his beloved’s flesh and suspended it by its silken cord.
It spun clockwise, then anticlockwise…
Gronchard held his breath.
…then back clockwise again.
For several minutes he could only stare as the bone swung back and forward with no sense of anything pulling it. At length he came back to himself. “Saint Mausoleus!”
The Saint in charge of necromantic operations stepped forward. “Divinity?”
Gronchard wrinkled his nose. The old man always smelled of rotten meat and embalming fluid. “What do you see?”
“Nothing, Divinity,” said Saint Mausoleus, “other than some ghosts prowling the landscape around that wicker man, and others haunting the top of that promontory. Alas, the only links from the lodebone point back to the Mausoleum.”
“I was wrong,” wailed Gronchard. “And now the Vessel has escaped with my Angelica!”
Chapter 41: Millicent in Charge
“Go on,” said Millicent. She raised the glowing jewel he’d given her higher to better illuminate his efforts. “Give it a poke.”
The boy burglar stuck his tongue out at her. “I do know how to do this.” He stomped on the square of stone. It swung down, then back up again.
There was a clunk.
Ingar flung himself sideways. Torstag shoved Zahna out the way.
Something arrived with a whir and slammed into Millicent’s chest. She looked down at it—a small stubby arrow now protruded from her bosom, casting a shadow like a sundial. “Now where did that come from?”
Ingar slid past the trap door. “Millicent!”
She laughed and pinged the arrow to make it thrum. “My stays caught it.” She handed him the everlight and tore off the remnants of her blouse to reveal her corset.
Miss Zahna, who had picked herself up, scrutinised it. “This seems incomplete for armour. Rather too much unprotected flesh.”
“Moral armour,” said Millicent.
Ingar laughed.
Millicent shot him a Quelling Glance, and ignored her Voice’s patter, except when it said, 8 of 6 Potestas remaining.
He flushed. “I mean, I’m glad you are okay.”
“Well,” said Millicent. “Pull it out while I brace.”
Now blushing bright red, the boy yanked on the arrow while she clamped the corset with her hands to stop it tearing open.
“Lucky,” he said. “A little higher and it would have missed the…undergarment, hit you between the—”
“Far too lucky,” said Miss Zahna.
“Well,” said Millicent, “it is my tomb after all.”
“That worked so well for your past selves,” said Zahna.
“Where did it come from?” asked Torstag.
“One way to find out,” said Ingar. “Everybody stand clear this time.”
The boy returned to his former position. This time he squatted by the edge of the trapdoor and pushed with his hands, once, twice—each time triggering another arrow which appeared to be coming from above the mysterious door at the end of the passage. He pushed a third time, hard, almost toppling into the hole.
The shove was enough to cause the trapdoor to swing down all the way. There was another, deeper clunk and the trapdoor remained in the down position.
Ingar directed his everlight into trap. “Oh, I don’t think you want to see this.”
“Nonsense,” said Millicent striding over.
“You don’t,” said Torstag.
The shaft went down a good ten feet to a bed of long metal spikes. There was enough space between them to accommodate the the skulls and other bones that lay around the base. A single skeleton was propped up against the walls, both feet and one shin bone impaled on the wicked needles.
Millicent shuddered. “She probably bled to death, poor thing,” she said, “alone in this pit…at least I was doing this to myself.”
Test of Guilt at Using People 1/6, cost 0 Potestas
Guilt at Using People advances to 2/6 Hardening.
“Hah!” said Millicent.
Everybody looked at her. She shook her head. She really needed to remember that other people couldn’t hear her Voice.
“Look,” said Ingar, gesturing down.
Sure enough, there were iron rungs set into the side of shaft.
“Miss Zahna?” prompted Millicent.
The girl with the magic powers strode over and peered over the side. “Seems safe.” She shrugged one shoulder. “For the next few moments.”
“Hmm,” said Millicent. “If this is supposed to be my egress from the lower level, I am not impressed. Imagine climbing up that ladder laden with treasure.”
“Ah, but if the treasure is a spell book or amulet,” said Miss Zahna, “then it would be easy to return later with hirelings and clean the place out.”
Torstag loosened his sword belt.
“What are you doing?” asked Zahna.
“Going first.” He wound the belt around the scabbard, then slung it over his armoured shoulders so that the big sword was strapped to his back.
“My,” said Millicent, “you look quite the dashing hero now.”
“You look like an idiot,” said Zahna. “You’ll never draw it like that.”
Torstag nodded. “Just don’t want to get tangled.” He edged around the pit then climbed over the side. There was enough space between the spikes and the pit walls for him to squeeze around. “Tunnel,” he said. “Empty. Right direction. Ingar?”
“Hang on then,” said Ingar, making a move to follow.
Millicent shook her head. “Miss Zahna next.”
Ingar and Zahna glanced at each other. The girl shrugged. She passed her staff down to Torstag, the light-orb-thingy still tied to its top. Then she swarmed down to join him. After a moment, she called up. “Looks safe.”
“You next, milady,” said Ingar. He bowed theatrically. “I’ll bring up the rear.”
“I’ll thank you to keep your hands to yourself,” said Millicent, being sure to bump him as she slid past. “For now.”
Though Millicent prided herself on her strong legs, her arms were weak. It was no fun climbing down the iron rungs with their abrasive patina of rust, especially not with a bed of spikes waiting for if she fell. Nor was it any better squeezing between the spikes and the cold stone wall, boots crunching her own mouldering bones.
She was breathing hard by the time she joined the wizard and the warrior in the lower tunnel.
Ingar handed her his halberd, then shimmied down with both hands free. As he sidled around the spikes to join them, he plucked a shin bone.
That felt obscurely like an act of violation. “Hey!” she protested.
“You might need a surge later,” said Ingar. He winked and slipped the bone into his belt.
The tunnel widened as it sloped down into the rock.
“How are we doing, Zahna?” asked Millicent.
“Still safe.”
“Well let’s get this over with! I must confess I’m not looking forward to meeting m
yself even if I am dead.”
Ingar caught her arm. “Give me my axe, I need to go first.”
Millicent relinquished the weapon. “Technically it’s a halberd.”
Ingar laughed and slipped between the others to take the lead.
They descended the slope in silence, except for the steady tapping of the young man’s halberd-butt.
About half way down. Zahna’s voice echoed back up the tunnel: “Why a ramp and not stairs?”
“To facilitate the use of wheelbarrows, I imagine,” said Millicent. “All that treasure.”
Something clunked.
“Fuck,” said Ingar, halting. “I think we just armed a trap.”
“We?” said Torstag. “Zahna what can you see?”
The girl called back, “The path still looks safe, all the way to the door.”
“Phew,” said Ingar. “False alarm. Or —fuck!—perhaps it set off an alarm and the cultists are coming.”
“I think…” began Millicent.
Behind her, falling stones plinked and rattled. She turned in time to see great slabs of masonry crash to the floor behind a curtain of dust. A hollow roar rattled her teeth and resounded in her gut.
Miss Zahna shouted, “What have you done, you silly woman?”
“…that…” continued Millicent.
It suddenly came to her that for all her worldly experience, she might possibly be out of her depth leading a party set on burglarising an ancient tomb, beset with traps.
“…the architect knew all about your Remembering Backwards,” she completed.
Something vast and furry fell through the dust and landed with a deep thud, filling the passage from side to side with its bulk. Its eyes burned red. It tossed its single great horn and let out another roar, propelling the cloying stench of embalming fluid down the tunnel like a wave of nausea.
And yet…and yet Millicent recognised the creature from the Science Museum. “But you’re extinct. Preposterous!”
Ingar appeared at her arm. “What in the name of all fuck is that?”
As if in a dream, Millicent heard herself answer, “Woolly rhinoceros.”
“Zombie woolly rhinoceros,” corrected Torstag pushing past. He raised his sword. “Get the next door open. I’ll deal with this.”
The monster snorted. It pawed the floor, crunching rubble, then charged.
“Or we could all just run screaming,” said Ingar.
Chapter 42: Fauna of the Ice Kingdom
Zombie Woolly Rhinoceros, hostile, charging.
Torstag cocked Peacebringer over his shoulder and gestured with his left hand. “BACK!”
Form 1.
Performing Necromancer at Level 2.
Using Repel Shade, cost 1 Potestas. 9 out of 5 Potestas remaining.
Result = 2 (Performance) +2 (Feat) -15 (Challenge) = -11.
Failure.
Still carrying Peacebringer one-handed, Torstag turned and ran from the thunderous echoes of the beast’s hooves.
The others were barely ahead of him.
“Go! Go! Go!”
With each pace, Torstag’s lamellar armour jingled and his helmet tried to bob off his head. Neither he nor the armour were built for running.
“I’ll get the door!” cried Ingar, voice vibrating as he sprinted on ahead.
The ghost of Axe Girl sprinted with him. She grabbed at the axe. Her fingers passed through it.
Wrestling with—
Warrior! Not Necromancer!
Test of Potestas 9. Third Eye closed.
The ghost vanished. She was still there, of course, but that didn’t really matter right now.
Millicent yelled, “Wait for me!”. She puffed and panted, ankle boots clattering on the stone, but didn’t seem to be able to go any faster. “I know!” she gasped. “Open up, for I am Millicent nee Lintar…”
Torstag risked a glance over his shoulder.
The undead creature rumbled closer, matted legs eating up their initial lead as it picked up speed from the slope.
“No luck!” yelled Ingar, his voice juddering as he ran. “Try again.”
Torstag pushed the librarian between the shoulder blades. “Faster!”
“I’m trying!”
“Faster!”
Ingar reached the door first, gave it a shove, then started screaming obscenities while hacking at it with his axe.
Zahna caught up in long strides, collided with Ingar and knocked him against the door.
And still Millicent lumbered along as best she could. “Open up…”
Torstag halted and turned to face the onrushing monster.
Its eyes blazed red. Its hooves thundered on the rock-cut floor.
Torstag raised his sword into a high guard. Perhaps if he split its skull…
“Torstag, no!” shouted Zahna, more of a command than a plea.
“Humph,” said Miss Millicent, appearing next to Torstag.
“Run,” said Torstag. “I’m saving you!”
“No,” said the librarian, “I am the one saving us.” She extended her hand. “SALAMANDER!”
A fat fire lizard sprang into existence, uncoiled and hurled itself at the undead creature.
Flame splashed over the fur, black smoke billowed.
Zombie woolly rhinoceros. Hostile. Charging. On Fire.
Flames and oily smoke now billowing from its back, the zombie woolly rhinoceros continued to close on them.
“Bugger,” said Millicent. She turned and fled, leaving Torstag to stand between the burning monster and his friends.
A great peace came over him. He wasn’t going to survive this, but perhaps if he could cut off one of its legs he might just slow it down and save his friends. The sword’s Smite Undead feat should at least help.
He swung the greatsword behind himself in what a little voice told him was “Tail Guard” and tried to concentrate.
1 Potestas Expended. 8 out of 5 Potestas remaining.
Form 2. Performing Warrior at Level 5.
The flaming zombie woolly rhinoceros is Challenging at 4, Charging.
That would have to do. The monster thundered closer, filling the tunnel. It dipped its long horn and Torstag knew this wasn’t going to work. No Wrath Strike was going to stop that thing, let alone take out a leg. Its hide would be thick, and the thing was dead anyway.
What about destroying one of the glowing red eyes? Undead didn’t perceive the world through their sense organs, but their senses relied on being anchored to whatever was put in their place. Even blinding it down one side would give his friends a fighting chance.
When the monster was still two sword lengths away, he whipped Peacebringer forward and pivoted into a thrust. His armour rattled as his front foot smacked the sloping stone floor.
Everything seemed to slow down. He braced his back leg and lined the wobbling tip of the sword up on the glowing red orb that served as the monster’s left eye, knowing that the horn would surely pierce his armour shortly after the blade pierced its target.
Eye as target requires 5 Finesse.
Thrust structural damage is capped.
No point in using Smite Undead, then.
Using Onset Thrust 3/5, cost 1 Potestas. 7 of 5 Potestas Remaining.
You have advantages “First Strike” and “Superior Performance.”
Your Medium Armour and the Monster’s Manoeuvrability are matched.
Onset Thrust is Unpredictable.
Result = 5 (Performance) +2 (“First Strike”), +2 (Unpredictable) -4 (Enemy Challenge) = 5
Effect = 5 (Result) +2 (Greatsword) -5 (Finesse) = 2
His sword tip struck the eye socket, displaced a red glass ball, then lodged in the bone.
Left eye destroyed.
Thrust. Structural Damage reduced to 1.
Onset Thrust advances to 5/6.
Caught between the thing’s skull and Torstag’s iron grip, the sword blade actually bowed. The tip of the rhino horn reached within a hands-breadth of the rectangular plates co
vering his belly, then he skidded backwards.
Enemy Result = 4 (Challenge) +4 (Charging) +1 (Luck) -2 (“Left Eye Missing”) -5 (Your Performance) = 2.
Torstag’s sandals slid over the stone floor as, spewing black smoke, the charging burning zombie woolly rhinoceros shoved him backwards.
Enemy Slam Result = 2 (Success) +6 (Enemy Slam Factor) = 8.
Peacebringer’s grip slipped in his fingers so the cross guard pressed into his right hand. His elbows started to bend.
Now the massive rhino horn pressed into the metal plates protecting his gut.
His belly muscles tensed, as if they could escape what was about to happen.
And still the tunnel floor slid under his sandals, warming his feet through the leather soles.
Torstag heard himself scream, and then his friends joining in, Ingar emitting one loud long, “Fuuuuuuuuck!”
Zahna somersaulted overhead and vanished through the curtain of smoke.
The pressure collapsed his arms, drove the sword pommel into his armoured sternum, knocked the wind out of him. He lost his footing.
With a mighty boing! the sword straightened, hurled him back.
The lamellar plates crashed into the wood.
The door gave, slammed open.
He glimpsed Ingar and Millicent, each pressed up against the doorposts.
Torstag fell back into darkness, found himself staring up at a vaulted ceiling bathed in the orange light of the burning woolly rhinoceros.
Something crunched against his armour. His helmet bumped the ground.
Enemy Slam Effect = 8 (Slam Result) -4 (Knocked Sprawling) -3 (Your Armour) = 1 Vitality loss.
4 of 5 Vitality remaining.
You have Disadvantage, “Knocked Sprawling”.
The monster kept coming. The remaining eye blazed red. The great horn came down, in an instant it would hook against the plates of his armour.
The Jungle Tomb of the Ice Queen (The Flying Tooth Garden Book 1) Page 26
