by Hugo Huesca
Priests and servants ran among the battle, adding to the confusion. People were tangled up in bundles of web, hidden beneath the wheels of the carts, and trying to help the Inquisitors by throwing pots and rocks at the spiders—which hindered the Inquisitors more.
It was a mess. Wright must’ve sent an entire cluster against us. Had it not been for the distraction of that wraith, they’d have easily pushed back the horned spiders…
He reached a battle between two Inquisitors and two spider warriors. The men were powerful and well trained, but they were Heiligians with zero experience fighting horned spiders. One Inquisitor was already tied up in webbing, and the other’s movements were sluggish from the paralyzing venom. “Smite!” Gallio rushed in as the spiders readied to finish the job, thrusting his sword at the nearest creature’s mouth, between the mandibles. His golden blade crushed the spider’s mandibles and roasted its brain. Smoke poured out of the critter’s eyes as it screamed in agony, blue ichor flowing out of its mouth. The surviving creature roared and jumped at him, but Gallio was ready—he stepped sideways while freeing his sword and flicked his wrist to launch a blindingly fast swipe that cut the spider’s two front legs down. The spider warrior collapsed and fought for balance, trying to stab his horn in Gallio’s general direction to keep him away. It was useless—his sword had a longer range. He put the beast out of its misery. When he was done, chunks of grayish spider gore covered his sword and his shirt.
“You two, come with me,” he told the stunned Inquisitors. Why were they looking at him like that? Killing a pair of horned spider warriors wasn’t all that impressive. He helped the first man cut himself free of the webbing, though he lacked an antidote to help the other. The kid would have to trust his pledge of the faithful to cleanse the venom from his system.
The three of them fought their way to the camp’s center, where the fighting was heaviest and the grass was covered by writhing men-sized bumps of webbing. A team of three Inquisitors on the offensive was a force to be reckoned with. Legs and mandibles slid away from Gallio’s golden carapace armor, and his divine-enhanced sword broke through chitin as if it weren’t even there. The spiders retreated when he and the others neared, choosing to give ground instead of dying senselessly. Just as well. “Hold here!” Gallio told the other two as they reached Master Enrich’s tent.
Gallio flapped open the entrance. Master Enrich stood in front of an overturned table, with the corpse of a horned spider warrior laying on its back, legs still twitching. Enrich’s iron wand was in his hand, smoking from the tip. That wand possessed strange, powerful destructive magic. A curious weapon, unlike anything else in Ivalis except perhaps some dwarven machines. No one was really sure where Enrich had gotten his from. “Gallio,” the man called as he saw the Inquisitor. “What the hell is going on?”
“A Dungeon Lord is attacking,” Gallio said. “I believe the one responsible for Hoia’s wraith is behind this. The attack may be retribution for Jiraz’ death, so he may look to capture you, or he may be after our loot and the vampire’s coffin. I’m certain we can beat the minions back, but we don’t have enough men to ensure he fails at all his possible objectives. We need the Heroes.”
Enrich waved a shaking hand at the stand by his bedroll, toward the strange, boxy device he used to manipulate the Heroes. “I’ve already sent a quest request,” he explained. “No one has answered yet, though. Few people are connected to the server—it’s late at night back home. Let me update the request…” He hurried out from under the table and rushed for the device. With his back bent, his fingers flew, seemingly at random, smashing a series of buttons on the device’s lower section. “The chance to loot a Dungeon Lord is sure to attract somebody, no matter the hour—”
“You do that,” Gallio said. He had no time to listen to the man prattle on. “I must go, the battle is far from over.” Looking out of the tent, he could see that two brave Inquisitors had reached their war horses and had maneuvered right next to the riverbank. They stabbed at the spider warriors with long spears, pushing them away from the river and deep into the camp, which was more and more in Inquisitorial control.
“You cannot leave me alone!” Enrich exclaimed, his eyes opening wide with panic. “I’m almost out of ammunition!”
Gallio raised an eyebrow. “I won’t leave you unguarded.” He stepped out of the tent and nodded at his small group. “Keep an eye on him. Make sure nothing comes close.”
The men nodded, and Gallio hurried for the river where the two riders were keeping dozens of spiders at bay. With the horses’ extra height, the spiders couldn’t reach the riders. One critter launched a strand of web at the legs of a horse, but its rider calmly intercepted the shot with his spear. He waved his weapon around, shaking it free of most of the webbing, then charged at the spider and ran it through with a smite-empowered strike.
If we can keep the spiders away from the river, they won’t have anywhere to retreat to. They can’t run into the forest without first going through us. And Gallio certainly would make sure that didn’t happen. Destroying the entire cluster would surely weaken Wright’s forces. Perhaps that will force him back into hiding. Gallio smiled. Here he was, hoping against hope that this wouldn’t end in tragedy.
He reached the horses, which were tied to posts next to the carts. The nearby bushes shook with the breeze. Seven or eight non-combatants hid nearby, watched over by a few young Inquisitors. A servant girl gave Gallio a hopeful look, her fingers crossed in front of her chest as if in prayer.
“Don’t worry. Those beloved by the Light have nothing to fear,” he recited, almost mechanically. He hurried for the nearest horse and jumped on. Riding bareback was another thing that Ioan and Alvedhra had taught him, but fighting without proper stirrups was another thing entirely. His plan was to use the horse to traverse the battlefield, then dismount and reinforce the riders contesting the river while on foot.
One rider used a cleave variant to swipe his spear across the line of spider warriors, severing fangs and legs in one fluid motion. The golden light of divine talents going off lit the scene like thunder-strikes. The man straightened his back and roared a challenge as the horned critters were forced away from his spear. He looked like a hero straight out of myth, framed against the river while his features were lit by his defensive buffs. A proper servant of the Light. Proud and unbeatable.
The river exploded behind him and a huge black shape the size of a war horse fell over both rider and horse, its extremities extended hungrily like the fingers of a titan’s hand breaking the water. The rider barely had time to turn and scream a curse as the Spider Queen fell over him like a shroud. His terrified horse tried to both jump and dash at the same time, and only managed to propel the Inquisitor down into the mud, which saved his life. The spider’s legs closed around the panicking horse, and in a second the animal had disappeared, along with the spider, under the surface of the water.
It had happened in the blink of an eye. Gallio, along with the rest of the non-combatants, had watched it all happen.
The Inquisitor exchanged a glance with his horse. It was probably the adrenaline, but Gallio could’ve sworn there was a flash of intelligence in the beast’s eye as it gave him a look impossible to mistake. It said, “Guess that good old Thumper wasn’t all that beloved by the Light, eh?”
It’s going to be a long night. The second rider was, quite understandably, hurrying away from the river, while the first former rider scrambled away into the bushes, covered in mud.
Gallio made a quick decision. “Push them into the river!” he ordered to anyone who would hear as he rode parallel toward the waters. “Force them away from the tents!” It’d probably be better for morale if his men thought the spiders were leaving because the Inquisitors forced them to, instead of that being the critters’ plan all along.
To add to his increasing lists of problems, he realized that Alvedhra and the other lookouts were gone.
“He’s seen us!” Vogkord mumbled with horror.
“We must run, quick!”
In front of them, hidden by the foliage of the bushes, Inquisitor Gallio paced around the battlefield. He looked fearsome in his summoned armor, even if it was fading already. It only drew attention to the spider’s remains that littered his body and sword. The batblins’ mounts clicked their mandibles and shifted in place, eager to challenge the Inquisitor and prove themselves fitter than their fallen brethren.
“Hold,” Klek told both Vogkord and the spider warriors. “If he’d spotted us, we’d be dead already.” Or perhaps not. He’d met Gallio, once, a long time ago. He didn’t seem to Klek like a cruel man. But Sheriff Gallio and Inquisitor Gallio could very well be different persons entirely, even if they shared a body. Just like Klek Spider-rider was a very different batblin than Klek the half-starved.
The group waited, tension filling the space among them. There were five batblins and a spider warrior for each. Klek had hand-selected all members of his squadron for their bravery and discipline—which wasn’t saying much given his starting pool of volunteers, but he worked with what he had. No one moved, and Gallio gave no signs of having seen them.
Something was happening by the river. Gallio rode away, shouting angrily, to Klek’s relief.
“Good call,” Tulip whispered at him. “Now, if my brave snack-leader could figure a way to get all those big snacks away from our objective?” She was referring to the pack of scared humans that were huddled close to the loot carts as well as the guards protecting both them and the coffin that was Klek’s riders’ main goal.
“We should smack them!” exclaimed Strodzark, waving his lanky arms in what he probably thought was a threatening manner. “Pack tactics makes us invincible—it’s they who should be scared of Strodzark!”
“Oh, dear,” said Saffron, Strodzark’s spider. “Someone calm him down before he does something stupid. Please?”
“No fighting,” Klek said. “We’re here for the coffin, that’s all.” Besides, he very much doubted that the ten of them could handle the guards without casualties, even if they overpowered three alert Inquisitors. No, the situation called for a more careful solution.
Strodzark let out a nasal whine and crossed his arms.
“Tulip, we need a distraction,” Klek said. “Can you get the spiderlings to help?”
“Ah, certainly,” Tulip purred. She bent her legs and clicked and clacked at the grass, using the particular spider language that all warriors learned in their youth.
The horned spiders bloodthirsty nature was still alien to most batblins. It was the hardest part about getting the rider units to work. Klek and Tulip had bonded during the Haunt’s defense. They had fought together and knew that they could trust one another. The others hadn’t had the time to build a similar link. They worked together on Lord Edward and Klek’s wishes, but nothing else.
Perhaps that would change tonight.
The wait didn’t last long. Klek’s echolocation gave him an excellent view as the first guard scratched his back, distractedly at first, and then with increasing alarm. Another guard gave him a confused glance one second before realizing spiderlings were crawling all over their bodies. He screamed as he dusted the spiders off in a rage, but more took their place. Soon, both men were dancing, trying to keep more spiders from climbing on. An instant later, the remaining guard and the unarmed humans followed suit.
One lanky man in a tattered tunic even broke and ran away, flapping his arms and yelling in horror for help. In the distance, fireball runes went off and off, over and over.
“Now is our chance,” Klek said. “Quick, while they’re distracted.”
The riders and their mounts snuck out of the bushes and headed for the cover of the carts, using the wheels to hide themselves from view—not that anyone was looking their way anymore. Screams filled the night. Near the river, the Inquisitors slowly pushed the warriors toward the river.
Klek undid the knots tying the tarp that hid the cart’s contents and pushed the heavy fabric away to reveal cramped boxes and rolls of fabric, packs of weaponry tied together, ornamental pieces of armor, and wooden boxes engraved with precious gemstones.
“Get anything valuable, but leave the heavy trinkets,” Tulip ordered while the rest of the batblins rummaged through all the carts.
“How do we know what is valuable and what isn’t?” Lily asked, her mandibles clacking shyly. “All these human baubles look the same.”
“You leave that to me,” Horm told her as the batblin pocketed a silver locket. “You find anything shiny and I’ll hold on to it for you!”
Working together, the group piled the valuables over a tarp they spread on the ground. Klek gestured at Tulip to get her attention. “We need to secure the coffin.”
“Lead the way, my brave snack.” Both spider and rider hurried for the coffin’s tent. The guards were only a few paces away—one was rolling on the ground, and the other had torn his clothes away and frantically passed his hands back and forth across his body. He was covered in red, angry little bites.
“It’s a miracle they can still stand,” Tulip muttered. “That much poison could paralyze even a bear.”
The coffin lay in wait inside the tent, secured by heavy silver chains. It was a black old box that must’ve been an impressive piece of artwork a long time ago. The paint had faded, leaving naked wood on its edges. Hollow spaces where gemstones had been engraved stared at Klek like empty eye-sockets. A silver family crest marked the oak lid.
Klek could’ve sworn that the temperature in the tent was colder than outside. He nervously reached the coffin, walking over several salt magical circles as he did so.
“We just tripped three alarms,” Tulip warned him. “Those guards will be pissed once they have the presence of mind to realize we’re here.”
“Hopefully we’ll be gone by then.”
Tulip webbed the coffin. Klek split his attention between watching her work and keeping an eye on the confusion outside.
“What now?” Tulip asked once she was done.
“Now, we wait for Lord Edward’s drones.”
Klek waved over at the riders outside—their spiders had webbed the tarp like Tulip had done with the coffin. Together, the eight critters dragged the bundle to the tent by pulling on the ropes, grabbing only the sections of web that the spiders had taught them wouldn’t stick.
Once the ten of them were reunited inside the tent, they stood around, nervously looking at Klek, as if it was his fault the drones hadn’t arrived yet.
“They’ll be here at any moment,” he assured them. Outside, the guards had dealt with the spiderlings and were nursing their wounds. Farther out, half of the spider warriors had entered the river. Gallio was nowhere to be found.
“They’re abandoning us!” Vogkord wailed, rubbing his hands together. “Don’t you see, Klek? We’ve lost the river! The spiders are retreating, so Lord Edward will leave us here!”
Strodzark and Horm exchanged nervous glances.
“Calm down, idiot,” Rose told her rider. “You’re making too much noise. People will hear!”
“She’s right, keep quiet,” sighed Saffron. “And my sisters are not running away—they’re retreating on purpose.”
“You want Vogkord to think that!” Vogkord pointed an accusing finger at the spiders. “So Vogkord gets killed instead of you.”
Klek realized he was losing control of the situation. He opened his mouth, but Tulip spoke over him. “Keep talking and I’ll web your mouth shut. How are we supposed to get you killed instead of us if we’re right here with you, you dumb little—”
“The Heroes are here,” Lily whispered, her voice quivering.
Klek’s blood froze in his veins. The others kept arguing for a beat, then silence spread among them in a flash.
“What did you say?” Strodzark asked.
Klek crossed the tent and reached Lily, who was stealing glances through a hole in the fabric.
A summoning circle had appeared out of nowhere, red and go
ld lines of fire forming runes in midair, shining like angry stars, but hovering only ten or so feet above the ground. The magic lines gyrated slowly while people cheered. The grass at the bottom was charred and smoking, and three humanoid figures stood in eerie calm at its center.
One was a female elf wearing a white tunic under silver armor, another was a male dwarf covered head to toe in heavy plate, and the last wore black leather armor and hid their face under a black cloak. They were armed with a mace, a tower shield and an axe, and two curved swords, respectively.
Their eyes lit up with red light as their bodies jerked to a measure of life. Klek caught sight of blank-like features in a skin not unlike porcelain. The Heroes moved.
Next to Klek, Lily shivered. He couldn’t blame her. They were low-level critters caught in a Heroic path. It wasn’t hard to guess what happened next.
“That’s it,” Vogkord said quietly. “We’re doomed.”
This time, no one had any desire to contradict him.
The Heroes carved a path of destruction through the ranks of the remaining spider warriors.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ed said quietly, as his minions ran for the river or were destroyed. “I know those guys.”
“What?” Lavy asked. Sweat covered her forehead, and she was completely out of spells. “You mean the Heroes that are annihilating our forces?”
Ed nodded. There was no mistaking them. The group had always liked to play the same roster of characters—even if they died, they simply made them again. “The dwarf is a Guardian called Shadow Zero. Mark Thompson plays him. The elf Cleric is Layla Moonshine, played by Lisa Anders. The Rogue is Rylan Silverblade. My former employer runs him. They are my old party.”
Alder whistled. “They’re incredible.” Ed’s former group moved with mechanic precision, dealing with pockets of spider resistance one at a time. Lisa’s Cleric’s fast cleansings kept their movements unhindered by web while the Rogue disappeared into the shadows and reappeared an instant later to sneak attack Pirene’s princesses and royal guard. Mark’s Guardian ran through the battlefield with the grace of a boulder, drawing aggro as attacks bounced off his meteoric plate armor.
