by Isaac Hooke
Xaxia finished up the skeleton beside him, and similarly slammed her sword into its skull after it toppled.
Behind them, one of the other skeletons had been terminated by Ziatrice, who had snagged it with her chains of dark mist and split it in two with her halberd. The second, the one that had been Confused, had apparently turned on the party after its opponent had been taken away, because it was lying on the ground, partially disintegrated, with green embers glowing along the edges of the dissolved bone where Mauritania’s Eldritch magic had struck. Its shield was partially dissolved as well, no doubt thanks to the same magic.
“Well, at least we know now what makes that rattling sound,” Xaxia said.
Malem meticulously stepped past the dead skeletons to join Mauritania. When they were behind him, he sheathed his sword, and told her: “Your magic was the most effective against them.”
Mauritania nodded.
“Undead,” she spat, the distaste obvious in her tone.
“Sounds like you’ve encountered them before,” Gwen said.
“They often assaulted the outskirts of my kingdom,” Mauritania said. “They came from the Bogland, to the north. I’m not sure what they’re doing here, however.”
“There are enclaves of them all over the world,” Wendolin said.
“I’ve heard this,” she said. “Though I’ve never encountered them this far south.”
“Undead,” Malem said. “Well that explains why I can’t detect them with my beast sense. There’s nothing for me to detect, considering they’re already dead.”
“You couldn’t Break them?” Gwen asked.
“Nope,” he replied.
“But you Broke the kobolds and wights upstairs,” Gwen said.
“I’m not sure they’re classified as undead,” Malem said. “Considering they still have a physical presence of flesh in some form. But these skeletons are obviously undead. You can’t get any more un-dead than animated bones.”
“Kobolds technically are not undead,” Mauritania said. “But wights are, since they are summoned by necromancers.”
“So I can Break some undead?” Malem said. “Those with flesh?”
Mauritania nodded. “Maybe. Because there are certainly more types of undead than mere skeletons… such as those who have been reanimated from the recently deceased. The presence of flesh may or may not be a barometer of Breaking.”
“On the bright side, that was a relatively easy battle,” Xaxia said. “It only took a minute or so. Sure beats wasting five minutes trying to hide from them.”
“Yes, but not all battles against the undead are easy,” Mauritania said. “One time, they attacked our capital city in force after ravaging the countryside for weeks prior. I’m talking an undead army over a thousand strong. They bashed in our city gates, killed indiscriminately as they streamed through our streets, and made it all the way to my palace before we defeated them.” She shuddered. “When they came for me all those years ago, their necromancers raised the fallen on both sides, so that we were fighting not just skeletons, but our own friends and relatives. So, don’t you ever take these creatures lightly. And definitely don’t fall in battle against them, not unless you want your corpse to become a slave, reanimated for an eternity until all the flesh has long since sloughed off, and all that’s left of you are your brittle, obedient bones.”
Gwen hugged herself involuntarily. “Why do I feel suddenly cold? I just want to get out of here.” She turned to Malem and whispered. “I’m suddenly terrified I’m going to meet someone from my village. A friend I’m going to have to kill.”
“You won’t,” Malem said. “Your village is far to the southeast, past the mountain range.”
“But what if I do?” she said, eying the shadows.
Malem grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Gwen. I’m here with you. You’re safe. You won’t encounter anyone from your village. We’re too far away.”
She closed her eyes, and nodded slowly. Her chin quivered slightly, so he wrapped her up in a hug. He sent soothing vibes into her energy bundle.
“It’s going to be all right.” He held her for a long moment, but he couldn’t help but scan the shadows. He was worried not just about an attack from the undead, but uraks, too. That tension flowed into Gwen’s energy bundle, partially negating the calming vibes he was trying to send. Maybe it was for the best. She couldn’t allow herself to become too calm and complacent in this place.
“Um,” Goldenthall said, sounding impatient.
Malem scowled at the former king, but then finally he released her.
He placed the gazer up front once more, and the party continued its advance.
“We don’t even know where we’re going,” Timlir said. “Traveling blindly in the dark. Taking righthand turns like it’s going to lead us somewhere.”
“As long as there are no uraks,” Abigail said. “We’re going the right way.”
“I hate them,” Gwen said. “Uraks. Cousins of oraks. Killers of my family.”
“I’m sorry to mention them,” Abigail said.
“No,” Gwen said. “Don’t be. At this point I’d rather fight uraks than undead. Trust me.”
“So would I,” Xaxia commented. “Biter gave me nothing back there.”
“Nor did Balethorn,” Malem said. “We’re going to have to get used to fighting creatures that don’t give us stamina.”
“Makes you kinda yearn for the days when you could take whatever you wanted from Vorgon,” Ziatrice said. “Doesn’t it?”
“Not at all,” Malem said. “We all know the price for that stamina.” He smiled grimly. “Vorgon sent me on an impossible mission, to capture Wendolin, queen of the Tree Elves. And in reward for successfully completing that mission, he offered me death.”
“Not really the kind of guy you want to make your bedfellow, is it?” Weyanna said.
Malem didn’t answer that. How could he? Vorgon had taken him when he was at his weakest, when there was no chance of fighting back, after the Balor had beheaded Banvil. He had no choice but to join with Vorgon.
And he planned never to serve the beast ever again. If it came to it, he would fall on his blade, rather than be captured.
Yes, I think that now, but when the time comes, would I really do it?
Probably not, given that he couldn’t even fall on his own blade when Vorgon had ordered him to do it. His self-preservation instinct was too strong. The fight for life. It was something that man had inherited from the beasts.
We’re not so different, man and beast. All that separates us is form.
Even monsters and men were more alike than many might admit.
All men have a darkness in them, the darkness of the beast, the monster. My darkness was released when Vorgon Broke me, but now I have it thoroughly trammeled, and it will remain that way for the rest of my days.
Admittedly, he didn’t feel like those days would be very long at the moment.
And then the buzzing came in his ears.
“Oh no,” Malem said.
“What is it?” Abigail asked.
“The Darkness,” he said. “It comes.”
The others quickly cleared a space around him.
“How much time do we have?” Sylfi asked.
Malem waited. The buzzing didn’t increase in pitch. It remained steady.
“Vorgon’s playing with me,” Malem said. “He teases me, lets me know he is coming. And yet he wants to draw it out. It’s a game Banvil used to play.” He shot Goldenthall an accusing look.
“Vorgon is waiting until we’re in the midst of battle?” Gannet said.
“It’s very possible,” Malem said. He kept his gaze upon Goldenthall. “I don’t know this for sure, but I believe the Balors that have touched me can sense my emotions, just as I can sense all of yours through the bundles of energy that represent each of you in my head.”
Goldenthall nodded. “They can sense when you are under duress, yes. It is why Banvil often struck with the Dark
ness when you were in the middle of combat, with hopes of taking you when you were at your weakest.”
“Why didn’t Vorgon strike earlier with this Darkness then?” Brita asked. “When the kobolds had us surrounded, for example.”
“The Balor hadn’t yet recovered enough to create his Darkness, most likely,” Malem replied.
Wendolin was alternating her glances between the forward and backward directions. “Has there been any change? Is this Darkness of yours closer?”
Malem listened. The buzzing remained the same pitch. “No. It simply comes. I don’t know when. Could be within the next five minutes. Could be an hour away. I’d suggest you all give me a wide berth, for the time being.”
“Probably a good idea,” Xaxia agreed. “Some of you haven’t seen what this Darkness can do to a person. Trust me, it isn’t pretty.”
Malem pulled ahead of the party so that he was second after the gazer, several yards behind it, but also many paces ahead of the others.
The gazer suddenly halted.
Something had alarmed it.
Malem switched to its viewpoint. At the periphery of the light cone produced by Abigail’s flaming sphere, he spotted two skeletons, these standing next to an arched doorway in the side of the corridor. Unlike the others he had encountered, these were clad in chain mail armor, with coifs protecting their white skulls.
They seemed to be noticing the gazer only now. They drew two-handed longswords from scabbards, and rushed into the light.
A third, larger skeleton ran out from the arched dooryard behind them. It stood there, dressed in a black robe with the hood raised.
“Looks like we’ve got some more undead,” Malem said. “They’ve got a mage, this time.”
20
Unsurprisingly, Malem couldn’t sense any of the undead with his beast sense. Nor could he wrap his will around them.
The mage raised a skeletal hand, and a bolt of lightning erupted from its fingertip. The lightning struck Malem’s gazer, killing it. He had no time to crush the last of its stamina, and he felt the full force of the sudden severing, which drained him.
The two undead swordsmen meanwhile approached, racing past the falling creature.
Malem took stamina from Solan and Gannet, and straightened.
Mauritania launched ribbons of green magic at both skeletal swordsmen, and the mage beyond, but the magic had no effect this time.
Abigail launched fireballs, and Weyanna ice spears, but neither harmed the armor of the soldiers, nor the robes of the mage.
The mage pointed its finger at Malem next.
Gwen leaped at him, throwing him to the ground. The lightning passed by where he had been standing, and struck Solan instead. Sparks of electricity traveled up and down his dragonscale armor, and across his face, momentarily illuminating his skull underneath. Solan’s teeth chattered, and he shook his head as the sparks dissipated.
“I think I need to sit down,” he said, and collapsed.
Malem had Balethorn in hand, and he intercepted one of the soldiers as it came in. Xaxia took the other.
He dodged its swing, and struck back, scoring a hit in the armor. The skeleton swung its blade down, forcing Balethorn away. The next hit came at his throat, and Malem was forced on the defensive.
Dark threads curled from Goldenthall and Ziatrice and into the soldiers, and the mage beyond, and once more the undead beings seemed unaffected.
“They’re immune to everything!” Xaxia complained as she parried a blow.
“Gwen, riddle the mage with arrows!” Wendolin ordered.
The white-robed mage was pointing its fingers at Gwen next, but she released several arrows in rapid succession, as did Sylfi and Brita with her. The shafts pierced the white robe; some were deflected by the ribs, but others passed through, lodging in the robe up to the fletchings.
Vines shot from the shafts embedded in the mage; they traveled in all directions at once, growing so fast, and so hard, that they forced the surrounding bones apart. In moments, the mage was literally torn apart from the inside out, its robe ripped to shreds, its bones scattered along the outskirts of the vines like the macabre leaves of some tree.
“Not immune to all magic,” Wendolin said.
“That works,” Gwen said. “Let’s do the same with these two fuckers. Malem, Xaxia, if you’ll step back, please…”
Malem was glad to comply: his opponent was a skilled swordsman.
Unfortunately, the soldier wasn’t going to let him go so easily. When he retreated, the skeleton pressed the assault, remaining on the offensive, and not letting him go.
Gwen fired her bow. The magic arrows deflected off the armor, and she was unable to score a good hit. She repositioned, and hit it in an eye socket. Before it bounced free, Wendolin caused branches to grow, and she used them to tie up the upper right half of the skeleton, including its sword arm.
Gwen fired more arrows, these piercing the soldier’s boots, and Wendolin used their shafts to wrap up the skeleton’s legs.
With the creature thus bound, Malem stepped back, and let it topple to the ground, completely subdued. He didn’t think it was worth it to hack through that armor to kill the thing.
Gwen turned toward the second skeleton, but Xaxia had already chopped the creature into several pieces.
It was probably for the best, because if Wendolin’s energy bundle was any indication, she was thoroughly exhausted.
“Well, that was… sapping,” she said.
Xaxia glanced at Malem, and saw that he had relied on magic to defeat his foe. She wore a smug I’m-a-superior-fighter-than-you grin. “Hm.”
“I guess you have a better sword,” Malem said.
“Guess so,” she agreed.
Weyanna went to Solan, who was still lying on the ground. She touched his forehead, and glanced at Malem. “I think he just needs stamina.”
Malem took stamina from Brita and Gannet, and fed it to him. Solan promptly sat up.
“That lightning bolt killed the gazer,” Xaxia told Solan. “You should be dead now.”
“I should be,” Solan said. “But you forget, I’m half dragon. It takes a lot to kill me. More so than some mere undead mage.”
Mauritania walked up to the bound skeletal warrior, and promptly stabbed Tiercel and Peregrine into its skull, shattering it. She stood.
“Next time, let me do the fighting,” Mauritania said, sheathing Tiercel and Peregrine in one smooth motion.
“Or me,” Ziatrice said, licking the shaft of Wither suggestively. Oddly, it turned him on.
“You’re both welcome to it,” Malem said, looking away.
No time for arousal at the moment.
The buzzing continued in his head. Distant, distracting, reminding him that he couldn’t let his guard down.
“Solan and I are always ready to fight for you,” Gannet said.
Malem nodded, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
Yes, yes, you’re all better fighters than me.
Then again, there was no guarantee they would have done any better.
They just want to protect me.
He went to the corpse of his gazer, and felt regret at losing another ally.
“I feel the regret in you,” Mauritania said, coming to his side. “It’s hard, losing someone who serves under you. Even if that someone is a monster.”
“It is,” Malem agreed.
“What do you think they were guarding in that room?” Mauritania asked, nodding to the arched doorway ahead.
“That’s a good question,” he replied.
He glanced at the others, and then slowly approached the opening. Behind him, Gwen gave more arrows from her Infitas Quiver to Sylfi and Brita so that the latter two could replenish their supply. That droning continued in his head, but he was able to ignore it.
He paused next to the edge. He felt nothing on his beast sense, but that meant nothing in this place, of course.
“I’ll go first,” Xaxia said.
Before
he could deny her, she stepped inside. Timlir followed, and Malem came behind them.
In the center of the room, a small fountain jutted from the floor. The stonework at the center was shaped like two fish leaping into the air, their bodies partially intertwining. From their mouths water spouted upward in an arc, before splashing into the basin at the base of the fountain below. Those waters glowed a very subtle blue in the dark.
“A magic fountain,” Xaxia said.
Wendolin nodded. “Yes. Trolden mages often placed such fountains throughout their underground cities to confer magical bonuses to travelers. I’m surprised it’s still intact.”
“It’s probably been tainted by the undead,” Xaxia said.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to drinking any of that,” Gwen agreed.
Ziatrice promptly knelt and dipped a finger into the glowing water. She held it to her lips.
“Ziatrice…” Malem said warningly.
She glanced at him, and shrugged. “If I want to sample the water, that’s my prerogative. I’ll deal with the consequences.” She sipped her finger. “Tastes normal. Certainly, a soothing salve for a parched throat.”
She promptly cupped a handful of the glowing water, and drank.
A similar glow seemed to emanate from her energy bundle a moment later, and he realized her stamina had jumped. She straightened, and took another handful. It didn’t seem to have the same alleviative effect. She stood.
“You should try it,” she said. “It’s reinvigorating.”
“It gave her stamina,” Malem said.
“A magic, endurance-granting fountain, go figure,” Xaxia said. “This truly is a dungeon crawl.”
She knelt, and held her mouth underneath one of the waterspouts to drink the liquid that arced down.
“Sounds like you’ve been on a few,” Malem said.
“Actually, I have,” she said, standing and wiping her lips. “Mostly the ruins of dwarven cities.”
“Sacrilege!” Timlir said.
She shrugged. “Sorry, dwarfy.”
“Don’t call me dwarfy!” Timlir puffed out his whiskers as he spoke.
Xaxia smiled, then turned away. “The abandoned dwarven cities have fountains, too. But those are more likely to curse, than bless.”
