Conquest

by Dean Henegar

  The wolves didn’t make it very far as the hydra heads struck once more, killing the last two wolves; two of the heads grabbing each end of one wolf and tearing it in half. Ty and Crunchy then arrived at the fight. I watched as Ty swung his axe with all his might, lodging it halfway through one of the hydra’s legs. Yendys’ summoned dog and Crunchy worked on the other leg that the wolves had just begun to dissolve. The dog tore a chunk of flesh out, allowing Crunchy to slam his glowing horn deep into the leg bone. The beetle’s giant mandibles then closed around the leg, squeezing and sawing at the limb with incredible force. The combined assault on its left legs made the huge creature wobble, throwing off its next attack. The three heads missed their strikes, save for the one attacking Crunchy. The head attacking Crunchy was thrown off course from the stumble, instead landing on the summoned dog, easily killing the weak summoned creature. With a snap, the leg bone Crunchy was sawing at finally gave way, causing the hydra to stumble again.

  My attention was once again distracted by another breach in our lines. The honor guard had unsummoned and the soldiers I had placed there were slow to patch the hole in our lines. Rushing forward, I raised my hand toward the nearest ghoul. Using my last trick, I unleashed a stream of acidic sap from Tessel’s promise into the ghoul’s face. The lead ghoul stumbled as the sap dissolved his eyes, blinding him and allowing the soldiers to finish it off and close the gap in our circle. Our soldiers’ numbers still stood at thirty-four, though two were inside the circle paralyzed and nursing horrible wounds. Nitor was back on his feet and chanting once more. While downing a small healing potion, the bard gave me thumbs-up and looked for openings in the line, ready to do his part. The ghouls were down to fifty or so and I felt we would beat them if Dunderman didn’t pull off any other tricks. Looking back to the hydra fight, I could see that things weren’t going well for the ghoul lord. Ty had managed to cripple the other leg of the hydra, dropping it to its side. Crunchy now was able to reach one of the functioning necks, grabbing on and trying to saw it off like he had the leg. The ghoul lord was also in bad shape. Being forced to control the hydra, he couldn’t dodge any of Quimby’s accurate fire. A dozen arrows sprouted like quills from the ghoul lord’s body and his health was down to forty percent.

  Hearing a shout of frustration from the ghoul lord, I watched as Dunderman released his control of the nearly destroyed hydra, leaping from its back and onto Ty. Ty was distracted, too far away for me to shout a warning, focused as he was on trying to dislodge his axe from the hydra’s leg. Dunderman slammed Ty to the ground, tearing a chunk out of his shoulder with his sharp teeth, and then flaying wildly with his claws. Ty’s armor was shredding fast, the hardened leather parted easily under the ghoul lord’s attack. Not one to ever give up, I watched as my friend grabbed a dagger from his belt and slammed it into the ghoul lord. The two traded a few blows before Ty’s health finally ran out, sending him to respawn. My friend had done some work, dropping Dunderman down to 22 percent health.

  Now it was Crunchy’s turn. I watched the skittering unicorn beetle charge Dunderman. The ghoul lord just grinned at the beetle approaching him. Summoning a daily power, the ghoul lord mouthed a word in a language I had never heard before and hoped to never hear again. A stream of greasy black mist flowed form the ghoul lord’s mouth, drifting toward the charging beetle. Crunchy was undeterred and charged blindly into the mist, a horrifying squeal erupting from the beetle as the black mist clung to his body and began to decay it rapidly. Crunchy died just as he reached the ghoul lord, generating enough momentum for his horn to pierce the ghoul lord’s chest in a final strike. The ghoul lord’s health dropped to 12 percent, and the creature gasped in shock.

  “Noooo, not Crunchy!” Yendys yelled as she charged toward Dunderman. Quimby arrived first; he had been closing in on the fight after firing his last arrow a few moments ago. Short sword and dagger in hand, Quimby slashed and stabbed at the ghoul lord. The halfling landed a few good hits and Dunderman’s health dropped to eight percent. The ghoul lord recovered from his shock and regained his feet, towering over the halfling Quimby while frothing at the mouth in rage. Quimby was unperturbed, calmly and efficiently continuing his assault. Being a ranged fighter, Quimby lacked many special melee attacks, but was still a solid fighter up close when he needed to be. A leaping thrust drove his sword and dagger both deep into the ghoul lord’s stomach. I watched in horror as the ghoul lord ignored the horrible injuries it had and closed its claws around Quimby’s head, pulling and tearing. The halflings head released with a pop, Dunderman raising it up to the sky as a trophy while the black goo that ghouls had for blood gushed from the wounds Quimby had opened in it. His health at just one percent the ghoul lord turned his gaze toward the forest.

  I could see the indecision in Dunderman’s eyes, knowing his forces were defeated, but not wishing to give up just yet. I laughed as his decision was made for him.

  “Thwack!”

  The sound of the enraged blow was heard across the field and over the noise of my soldiers mopping up the last of the ghoul horde.

  “That was for little Crunch Crunch!”

  Thwack!

  “That was for Mr. Ty!”

  Thwack!

  “That was for Quimby!”

  Thwack!

  “That was just because you’re stinky!” Swinging her staff one last time, the tiny Yendys delivered the final, fatal blow to ghoul lord, Dunderman. I watched as she continued to hit the finally dead creature, taking out her anger at losing her friends, albeit just until they respawned.

  As my men finished the last of the ghouls, a very welcome quest complete prompt flared.

  You have completed the raid “Rise of the Ghoul Lord”. Your forces have ended the undead threat to the Hayden’s Knoll zone. Reward, 2500 experience, 100 gold, 500 resources.

  Congratulations! You have achieved Level 7. Review your character sheet for details on new abilities/upgrades.

  I ordered Sergeant Brooks to organize the men, care for the wounded, and search the ghouls for any treasure. Beremund slammed his hand down on my shoulder, startling me as he spoke.

  “Well, Imperium man, you have kept your word. You faced this.” Beremund gestured toward the piles of dead ghouls and the corpse of the hydra. “You not only faced it, you defeated it. My people are in your debt. All the Forerunner Clan will speak of this day; this day when a horrible foe was defeated and a new alliance was forged with our neighbors. Come with me, my friend.” With that, Beremund led me toward the rapidly decaying corpse of the hydra. The man began to inspect each of the hydra’s heads, a smile on his face as he settled on one. Pulling a curved dagger from his belt, I watched as Beremund pried two long fangs from the beast. The elder of their tribe, who had surprisingly survived the fight with the hydra, joined Beremund. They both cut their palms and joined them together with the teeth of the hydra in between. The pair chanted and a blue glow appeared between their hands. When they opened their hands, the large hydra fangs glowed blue for a moment before returning to their normal white color. Holding up his tooth and bone filled great club, Beremund placed one of the teeth on the surface of the club. The strong enchantments on the club bound the tooth to its surface, the sharp fang adding its power to the other trophies embedded there. The other tooth Beremund offered to me.

  You have received. Giant Hydra Tooth, unidentified. Have this item identified to determine its properties.

  “I know the tooth is now enchanted by the power of my people. I cannot say what it has become for you. One of your own people must now divine the powers that were bestowed upon it,” Beremund said, looking about at the great loss to not only his people, but also to my men.

  “Tonight, I think there will be no feast. We will quietly honor our brave dead. The shamans will consecrate the fallen and ensure they will not rise again. Never again can this scourge be allowed to torment the land. You have proved to be a man of honor, Raytak, a man who comes with all his strength to defend another people who were once
his enemies. My people will be your people. Send your leaders here and we will form a pact; a pact to defend each other and to trade freely in our lands. Stay here tonight and rest before your journey home,” Beremund offered. I considered his request while I watched his people in the distance. The clan was working together to clear the dead and gather what was still useful. A gritty and determined look was on the face of each one. These were a strong and proud people, a people who I would like to know better.

  “I agree, Beremund. Let our people begin to trade and look after our common interest. I know Mayor Delling will gladly come to discuss the details with you. He is not a warrior, but he is a brilliant and honest man, a rare thing among the politicians of my people. You can trust his word as you trust mine. He will seek to find a way to better both our people, not one at the expense of the other. Come, Beremund, tonight we mourn what we have lost, but one day soon I want you to come to Hayden’s Knoll and share a drink or ten with me at the tavern there. On that day we will celebrate!” With that, I clasped hands with the man and made my way back to my soldiers.

  “Old man Raytak, did you see me finish off that creepy ghoul guy? I just couldn’t let him get away with killing Crunchy. At least my poor little Crunch Crunch will respawn back at Hayden’s Knoll. I hope he behaves himself until we get back. Looks like just you, me, and the bard made it out alive,” Yendys jabbered, excited over our victory. “Speak the name and summon the man,” I thought, as Nitor wandered over to us. The man looked a bit stunned at all that had happened.

  “Nitor, thank you for all your help. We would have lost without your buffs reducing the number of soldiers being paralyzed by the ghouls. You did good work this day,” I offered, giving the player credit for his role. A support character doesn’t always get the glory, but the victory cannot be attained without him.

  “No problem, dude. Thank you for letting me in the party. That had to be the most epic battle I’ve ever seen in a game! I couldn’t believe everything that was going on,” Nitor said, then lowered his voice before asking the next question. “Is this what a real battle is like? Don’t feel like you have to answer me if you don’t want to,” Nitor queried, afraid to offend me. I didn’t mind; none of his generation had experienced war, save for in a game.

  “No, this wasn’t like the real thing. All of us can respawn and we would have only lost a small amount of game time to recover. The real thing is permanent. The ones you lose are gone forever. The mistakes you’ve make stalk your dreams. You will come back from war hurt, both physically and mentally. Friends and family won’t know how to relate to you and you find yourself doing weird things. I, myself, would always get nervous going through a doorway in a public place. Civilians always move through them too slowly. We called doorways “fatal funnels” or “vertical coffins” in the army, as they were the place every insurgent’s gun was aimed at when we breached a room.” I paused as I drifted into the old memories of war and loss that were unlocking in my damaged mind.

  “No, this isn’t like the real thing, and I suppose that it’s a blessing that your generation will never know what the real thing was like. You also are missing something, I have to say. You will never experience the camaraderie that battle builds. The friendships forged in war last a lifetime. There is a comfort in knowing the man next to you will give his life if it means saving yours and you will gladly give your life to save him. Sorry if I’m long winded and morose today, this fight just stirred up old memories. Thanks again for your help, Nitor,” I finished.

  “Wow sir, I had no idea. Sorry for what you’ve lost, but please send me a message if you ever have a mission like this again. I’ve got to run, will probably be late for work, but it was totally worth it!” Nitor stated, sending me a friend request.

  “Not a problem, Nitor. I would be proud to fight with you in my ranks again,” I responded, while accepting his friend request. All said, he was a good player and fit in well with everyone else. Nitor’s character disappeared as he logged out.

  “Even though I had to win the fight for us, I still think you did great, old man Raytak! I’m gonna run, too. I have to finish up my homework before dinner, or my dad will cut game time,” Yendys whined as she began to log out.

  “Sounds like your dad has the right idea; keep up your studies, kid,” I offered, causing Yendys to sigh in frustration, mumbling, “Not you, too,” just before she logged out.

  We spent a quiet night in-game, my men and I keeping to our own camp on the hill, giving the village time alone to mourn their losses. Early in the evening, some of the villagers brought us roasted chicken and some type of cabbage salad. The men ate well but were somber, going about the motions of fortifying the camp and burying our dead. The village had designated a small area near the base of the hill to use as a graveyard. The villagers act unlocked yet another memory that repaired itself in my mind. I was watching a video of a great general, who unfortunately turned into a politician, replying to some fool civilian reporter who accused us of trying to build an empire during our numerous wars.

  “Over the years, the United States has sent many of its fine men and women into great peril to fight for freedom beyond our borders. The only land we have ever asked in return is enough to bury those who have not returned,” the quote stated.

  I thought about leveling, but left it for later. There would be time to mess with stats and options later. The rest of the night passed quietly, without any further attacks. I had worried that some of the ghouls may have slipped away and would be drawn back in the dark to look for food among the many dead. Near midnight, a shaman from the village came to bless our dead, giving them peace in their rest and hopefully preventing them from returning as any form of undead. The shaman mentioned that the mound raised to bury our dead would be called by their people the “mound of sacrifice” and would be an honored place among their clan.

  Before dawn the next morning, I had our men assemble into formation and head out. The village had given us a small cart to help us haul our equipment and I placed one large, carefully wrapped bundle in it. I altered our path back to Hayden’s Knoll, stopping once more at the ruined Dunderman farm. The men helped me dig a large grave and in it I placed what I could find of the ghoulish remains of Dunderman’s wife and child. There was no way to find the rest of his family, as all the other remains in the area had been consumed. Somehow Dunderman had refrained from his hunger to spare the remains of the last two of his family, making me wonder if some bit of the man had been trapped inside the creature he had become.

  I placed the wrapped bundle I had brought with us into the grave. It contained the remains of the ghoul lord. Placing him between his wife and child, I pulled out the tattered and worn journal I had first found in this place. I placed the journal on Dunderman’s chest, thinking there should be something said.

  “I don’t know what faith you had, Dunderman, but I hope you are now free and with your family in the afterlife. You didn’t deserve the fate that befell you and your family. We’re glad we were able to stop what you had become and I hope that it grants you some last chance at peace,” I offered, before we quickly filled in the grave. One of the men placed a large stone at the head of the grave and gently placed the old weathered Dunderman sign that had hung over the door to their home on top of the rock.

  Without another word uttered, and no cadences called, the battered remains of the 1st Legion of Hayden’s Knoll began their journey home.

  Chapter 31

  “You know you do have to eat your green beans, Lauren. Just pushing them around your plate does not count as eating them,” Veronica chided at her ten-year-old daughter. Lauren, like many children, despised any vegetable that wasn’t battered, fried, or mashed into oblivion. The strong-willed Lauren was always testing her mother’s patience at the dinner table.

  “You know you’re not going to get away with that, kid. Your mother and I have tried to get away with more when we were kids than you could ever think of. No more mac and cheese until the g
reen beans are in your belly,” Trey said, laughing at his daughters’ frown. His wife was an amazing cook, preparing a balsamic glazed chicken breast, homemade mac and cheese (a slight concession to Lauren, though Trey loved it too), and the infamous green beans.

  “If you don’t hurry up and eat them, I’m going to finish off all the mac…” Trey started to say before he was interrupted by his communication device chirping, the tone indicating it was Lou at the office…and it was an urgent call.

  “I’m sorry, guys, looks like Lou has an emergency,” Trey pleaded. Both Veronica and Lauren gave him the stink eye. They hated, as much as he did, when work interrupted family time. Knowing how important the current project was to Trey, Veronica waved him on.

  “Go on, take care of whatever is going on with Lou. I’ll put your plate in the fridge if it’s taking too long,” Veronica conceded.

  “Thanks, you’re the best!” Trey replied, shoving another small forkful of mac and cheese in as he made my way to his office. Closing the door so he didn’t bother the girls, Trey answered Lou’s call.

  “What’s up, Lou, I’m missing out on homemade mac and cheese, you know,” Trey mumbled through a full mouth. Work calls were an annoying, but necessary, evil at the executive level.

  “Man! I’m sorry. I don’t suppose Veronica will make me a plate of leftovers you can take to me for lunch tomorrow? Your wife has the best cooking. We single tech guys either starve or eat junk all day,” Lou pleaded. Trey’s wife was always kind to Lou, often packing extra leftover lunches for Trey to share with this friend.