Gondrial swore again. “Too many things. Well, get to it. It’s fast but it couldn’t have dragged her off that far yet. We need to catch up before it makes its way too deep into the woods.”
Kerad muttered some words. “No need to follow the trail, I have the foul creature in my mind’s eye. Follow me and I will take you to her.”
“Quickly, move on, darkness comes, and I do not mean to be too far into the woods,” Seancey said nervously.
Kerad followed the trail of the creature.
“Damn, but this creature moves fast,” Kerad cursed.
“Stop, cleric,” Seancey commanded as he drew his sword. “The ruins of Signal Hill are dead ahead.”
Gondrial groaned. “Did you have to put it in those particular words, Seancey?”
Seancey grimaced. “Sorry, Gondrial.”
Just ahead, and covered in overgrowth, were the remnants of a city gate with two guard towers at either side, similar to the Vale of Morgoran. The wooden supports lay to the side in rotten tatters. Apparently, someone had forced their way through long ago, and the doors lay where they fell. Inside, Kaxen could see the growth-covered buildings, formerly proud and made of shining marble and stone, now dingy and blemished. The magnificent remains of the brass gate, forever dulled, hung precariously, and the inlaid marble surrounding it was damaged. A feeling of dread and death permeated the air around him. Once a place of beauty, it now stood as a place of death and decay. Kaxen could see the remains of a siege engine used to force entry to the city discarded to the side. During the last battles of the War of the Oracle, dark wielders cursed the city and all its inhabitants to fight against the armies of the West, but the war ended before the incantations were complete, and the city inhabitants remained in its walls forever doomed to fight for the forces of evil that were no longer present. Only the runes cast by the last remaining wielders keep the cursed townsfolk at bay to all those except the ones foolish enough to enter the woods. The city was the ancient forge and supply stores for the armies of the West, and many master sword crafters and weapon smiths resided there. It was rumored that the city had many treasures in gold, armor, swords, and weapons, which attracted many would-be treasure hunters. None of them ever returned from the woods once they had entered them.
Chills ran up Kaxen’s spine as his eye caught movement just inside the gate. Dragging an unconscious Aurelie behind it was a hideous creature of rotted flesh and bone. A green haze flowed off the creature and coated the ground, dissipating as it moved. Kaxen found it difficult to see, but he was sure its rotted skin moved fluidly.
Kerad held out his hands in an open cupped manner. He closed his eyes and brought his hands up to his chin, moving them together as if praying. He then held his arms straight out. The creature glowed in a golden, hallowed light, swirling and beautiful. It moved upward as if a golden flame caught in a whirling windstorm. The creature let out a terrifying, bloodcurdling screech as the light enveloped it. The creature dropped to the ground in a pile of bone and rotten flesh, leaving Aurelie sprawled out on the ground.
Chapter 5
Kaxen immediately started after Aurelie, but Asrion held him back. “You can’t get to her fast enough. There are too many just inside the gate. You would never make it.”
Kaxen stared at Aurelie in horror, her motionless body frail and helpless just beyond the ruined gates. “I don’t see any danger here. I have to go to her.”
Kerad stepped in front of him. “Don’t be a fool, boy!”
“Coming here may not have been a good idea after all,” Gondrial sighed as he pulled his sword from its sheath.
“I just said that not ten minutes ago,” Enowene said.
“Aye, and I’m agreeing with you.”
Kerad produced his short mace from the belt beneath his robes and glanced around apprehensively. “Too late to worry about any of that now,” he said. “Watch yourselves; there is no way of knowing what kind of curse these people suffer from. Each one will be different as well as difficult to kill. I am guessing most can be dispatched by a hard blow to the head.” He motioned the move with his mace.
Kaxen readied his sword and glanced nervously at Sylvalora, who stood with her eyes closed, muttering softly.
Rennon leaned into Kaxen. “What does he mean by kill? Aren’t they already dead?”
Kaxen shrugged. “I don’t know, but if I had to guess, I would say he means to incapacitate them.”
Kerad grimaced as he practiced his mace, swinging it in midair in a circular pattern. Kaxen could tell the old cleric had not swung his mace in a long while. Kerad stopped swinging and began to rub his right shoulder with his left hand. “Asrion, how far have your prayers gone?”
“I have obtained the right of the cleric, Brother Kerad.”
“Good, I thought you seemed older than an adept.” Kerad turned his head to address the group, and he raised his voice slightly. “Let Asrion and I handle the cursed abominations wearing armor as they will be much more difficult to dispatch than the townspeople.”
Asrion gulped.
Kaxen clenched his frigid fingers tighter on the hilt of his sword. He wished he had worn something over his hands. Slowly he worked out the stiffness and warmed up his arm by swinging his sword in the air the way Swordmaster Grint had taught him. Kaxen swung it around and then touched the tip to the ground in a slicing motion. He noticed for the first time that a greenish-blue ground fog had begun to collect around their feet.
“Ugh! What is that horrid smell?” Asrion pinched his nose.
“And what’s that green fog?” Kaxen asked. He sniffed the air and cringed. “The smell seems to become stronger as the fog becomes thicker.”
“It’s the stench of death and decay. Follow my lead and keep close,” Kerad said, moving slowly in the direction of Aurelie. “That fog is a sign of the accursed people moving about. Stay clear of it if you can.”
Gondrial snickered. “Stench of death.”
Enowene gave him a stern look.
Two armored figures lumbered from each side of the gate, dragging their feet in an unnatural stammer.
“Stay sharp, they will not be alone,” Kerad stated.
Despite the age of the armor the two guards wore, it seemed immaculate if not for the tattered swathes of cloth Kaxen surmised was once a magnificent green cloak hanging loosely over the brilliant metal. A combination of chain mail and plate of a dull golden color from helm to boot, the armor’s elegance and style teased the eye with its splendor. On the breastplate was heraldry Kaxen had never seen before. It was that of a hammer and anvil inlaid upon a sword and axe. The helm was spiked, and the pauldrons extended past the shoulders on either side. The elbows and knees were similarly spiked. When the creatures stepped closer, Kaxen saw the hideous remains of the former men occupying the armor. The first man on the left had one eye; it was glazed over and oozing fluid, while the other socket was an empty, pus-oozing hole. Strips of rotting flesh sagged on either side of his face. The guard on the right was of little better condition. His eyes were both in their sockets, but the surrounding flesh had decayed, exposing them as large, glazed over orbs. His mouth was partially exposed, bearing his teeth in a frozen, unsightly smile.
To Kaxen’s horror, it began to speak in a slow agonizing tone, “Kill me; please put me out of this misery.” Kaxen felt a pang of pity pervade his senses until the pleading guard lunged forward at Kerad, swinging its massive sword. Kerad stepped aside and out of danger.
“Aye, take my head,” the other guard pleaded. “I would give you riches beyond wealth if you would kill me.”
Rennon gasped in shock. “Why do they plead for their demise?”
“I suppose it hurts to be dead,” Gondrial stated with a nonchalant, half-grin.
“Gondrial, do not make light. These people are suffering,” Enowene scolded.
“Well, it’s ridiculous; how would he pay us all his riches after we kill him?” Gondrial asked.
“I meant their pleading, Gondrial.”
“So did I.”
“Nay, my lady, don’t pity them,” Kerad said as he dodged another swing. “Sympathy gives them strength. We must coldly dispose of them.” Kerad swung his mace, knocking the first guard aside. “Asrion, it is time. If the grace of Loracia has blessed you, your prayers will guide you true.”
Asrion nodded.
Kerad used the mace and smashed it into the guard’s helm, but the armor showed no signs of damage. He then whispered a prayer, and a golden light enveloped the guard closest to him in a long stream of cylindrical luminescence.
The guard shrieked and then dropped his sword. “Aye, thank you. Aye, my friend, release me from my damnation.”
Asrion tried to use the same prayer as Kerad, but the second guard did not fall so easily. “This one resists the will of Loracia!” Asrion panicked. “I can’t kill it!”
“Of course not, it’s already dead, young priest,” Kerad said. “He was an elf once, lad. You will have to use another prayer for the elves.”
Asrion spoke a prayer Kaxen recognized as elvish, and the second guard collapsed to dust engulfed in a ray of white light.
The party moved in closer to Aurelie and noticed that she had begun to pull herself to her feet.
“Stay still, Aurelie,” Kerad directed. “Movement will attract more of them.”
More greenish-blue fog began to pour in, and Kerad’s expression turned grave.
“What is it, Kerad?” Kaxen asked.
“The fog grows thicker. Soon we will be overrun. I pray we have the strength to defeat them.” Two more armored figures rounded the ruined gates.
Seancey stepped around Kerad. “Enough child’s play,” he said. He swung his sword with incredible ferocity, cleaving the nearest foe’s helm in half. Seancey used his sword and skill to clear the way to Aurelie.
Kaxen staggered as he felt a sudden tingle in his head. Lady Shey and Gondrial both flinched.
“Do the Enforcers have offensive spells?” Gondrial asked Kerad.
“The creatures I sensed behind us have all moved off to the edge of the forest,” Kerad observed. “I have not been privy to any information as to whether or not Enforcers have the knowledge to use offensive enchantments; however, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“The fools,” Lady Shey said. “They have followed us into the forest. They will be killed.”
Kerad nodded. “Most certainly.”
“Wait a moment, then how are we going to get out of here?” Gondrial asked.
Lady Shey opened the tome and began reciting the travel spell.
“Nay, my lady, that spell will not work properly here. This place is cursed to prevent the inhabitants from ever leaving this forest, and arcane spells are particularly dangerous. Only the prayers of Loracia should be uttered here.”
Lady Shey stopped and closed the book. “You mean we have to leave here on foot?”
“Aye, it is the only way to leave here.”
Gondrial looked sideways at Lady Shey and sighed.
Disembodied random screams from somewhere in the distance made Kaxen’s adrenaline soar. In one fluid motion of excitement and fear, Kaxen lunged forward and reached for Aurelie, pulling her to her feet by her forearms. She turned into him, and he embraced her tightly. Aurelie returned the embrace, and Kaxen felt her chest heave against his. “It will be all right, I have you now,” Kaxen consoled. His heart pounded furiously.
As they inched forward, Kaxen could see down the main street. Vines and undergrowth choked the passages between the ruined buildings on either side. The street appeared impassable except for narrow trails. Seancey cleared the way through the cursed townsfolk with sword and shield, separating their heads from their bodies whenever possible. Several of them wandered aimlessly near a large central structure surrounded by elegant arches and tall stone pillars. It was obvious to Kaxen that the building had held a position of importance in the village once. As they neared the area, the cursed men began to move toward them, and Kaxen felt an overwhelming fear gnawing at his soul, and his teeth began to chatter no matter how hard he fought to keep them clenched.
Kerad moved in behind Kaxen. “Seancey, clear a path to that large building at the center of the street,” he suggested. The party stood back to back in a moving circle, letting Seancey clear the way ahead as they protected themselves from the side. Seancey forced his way through the decayed remains of the metal lattice doorway and into the structure. Although the building was primarily made of stone, the framework of the roof and ceiling, once made of wood, had decayed long ago. Once inside, Kaxen surveyed the interior, which appeared to be less touched by the hands of time. Extinguished sconces lined the interior walls to the left and right, and five rows of stone benches faced a staging area with a stone altar elevated before them. Seancey helped Kaxen, Rennon, and Asrion push two stone statues across the entrance to bar it from the outside.
Except for the light coming in between rotted rafters supporting a partially decayed roof, the room was surprisingly dark. Gondrial lighted a sconce on the wall, illuminating the rest of the room. They discovered they were not alone. No less than five cursed undead moved toward them. One of the abominations wore robes, and the other four wore mere rags barely covering their decaying flesh and bone. None of the creatures appeared armed or even armored. Kaxen swung his sword at the cursed nearest to him and lopped off an arm. The stench of decay filled his nostrils as the green and blue fog rolled in around his feet in thin streams.
“Please, release us from this torment. Send us to the afterlife,” The robed creature pleaded. “By the light of Loracia, embrace us!”
Kerad burst forth in anger. “How dare you use the name of Loracia! You wear the tattered remains of the yellow robe of Loracia, but you are no disciple if you are cursed so.” Kerad swung his mace with deadly force; golden light exploded out of it as he struck the robed figure once in the head. The creature’s skull shattered in a burst of light as the skeleton beneath it fell into pieces. The tattered yellow robes fell into a smoldering heap of bones on the floor.
Kerad’s display brought more cursed townspeople from a side room, and Kaxen recoiled as he noticed two toddler size creatures coming from behind one of the stone benches. They wore plain brown robes and seemed much less decayed than the others. “Children too!” Kaxen gasped.
“The curse was on the whole of the village, not just the men,” Kerad said. “I expect we shall find cursed women as well.”
One of the peasants began to plead. “Please, take our heads. The torment is unbearable. I do not wish you to join our curse.”
“Aye, release us from our torment and I shall tell you of riches. There are treasures, arcane swords and armor forged by skilled craftsmen in the village armory,” a decayed skeleton wearing a leather blacksmith apron said.
As soon as the creatures got close enough, they began to swipe and claw. Kaxen cleaved the head from the creature he had struck earlier, and it collapsed into a heap on the floor.
The creatures surrounded the party, and Kaxen saw Rennon skillfully utilize his daggers. Enowene attacked the children first, which surprised Kaxen until he realized she was trying to help them rather than hurt them. Gondrial wielded his sword surprisingly well, and Sylvalora seemed to watch the others fight while none of the villagers attempted to attack her at all. Lady Shey held onto the tome with the travel spell and followed closely behind Seancey.
“We need to get out of this village and this forest as soon as possible,” Seancey said. “The Enforcers who followed us are surely dead as we will be if we linger here much longer.”
“Agreed,” Gondrial said. “We will be completely surrounded soon if we stay in this temple.”
Gondrial paused as if Kerad would say something but he did not. “Kerad, what say you? What is your plan to get us out of here?” Gondrial struck down the last remaining cursed inhabitant in the temple and stopped to wait for Kerad’s answer.
“Aye, Gondrial, we should leave now,” Kerad said
after a moment. “We should go back the way we came.”
Kaxen noticed the cleric had his eyes fixed on the altar as if in thought. He motioned to Gondrial to stand next to him. “What do you make of this?” He pointed to something Kaxen could not see. Gondrial approached the altar carefully. Kaxen followed him curiously. On the altar lay a thick bound book and a long golden rod with what appeared to be a key on the end. The rod and tome had thick dust covering them. Carefully, Gondrial picked up the tome, trying not to disturb the rod. Rennon stood behind him and curiously reached for the rod.
“No,” Gondrial scolded. “Have you no sense? You never pick up a strange golden rod off an altar in a ruin. It is almost certainly trapped, or it would have been taken by someone long ago.”
“Sorry, Gondrial, I didn’t know.”
“Just keep your hands free of anything that appears valuable,” he paused, “and that goes for the rest of you as well.”
Gondrial read the tome for a moment or two and then unceremoniously picked up the rod. Gondrial read a few more sentences before he noticed the shocked faces of Rennon and Kaxen. “Well, this time it wasn’t trapped,” he paused, “but normally I say it would be, trust me.” He walked past the altar and placed the key end into an orifice in a statue of Loracia. The statue began to move aside as dust fell from it. Air rushed into the temple, blowing around more dust. Rennon sneezed.
“The tome is written in old elvish and is somewhat difficult to read, but I gather this passageway leads to the underground armory, where the most valuable arms and armor are kept, and there is a tunnel out of the city. Apparently, it was believed that no one would steal from an armory guarded by the church,” Gondrial explained.
“Convenient,” Enowene said.
“Aye, too convenient. It’s a trap for certain,” Gondrial said. “Clerics make terrible guards.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Kerad asked.
Asrion clutched his head. “Wait, and do not enter that armory.”
“What is it, Asrion?” Rennon asked, placing his hand on Asrion’s shoulder.
Shades of Truth: Path of the Wielders 2 Page 5
