el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #8 (part II)
Jeremy, Chance, Jana, Beorth, Ratchis and Kazrack continued marching south by southwest along the river. An hour after they battle with the skeletons, Ratchis said, “We should be seeing the oxbow soon.”
“What is an oxbow?” asked Kazrack.
“I was wondering the same thing,” said Jeremy.
“It is when a river or stream loops back on itself, and then the loop gets closed off from the river and starts to dry up,” Ratchis explained, and as if to exemplify the point, the oxbow came into view.
As they turned eastward at the oxbow as the herbalist had directed, a dark front of clouds rolled in from the west with frightening speed. A cold howling wind pushed at their backs, and they held their cloaks tight around their shoulders. Thunder broke above them and suddenly an intense rain came down in a constant torrent. The already setting sun was obscured by a deep grayness in all directions.
The party was immediately soaked and shivering, and visibility was obscured to just a dozen feet or so.
They continued onward in what they hoped was a straight line, led by Ratchis, and looking for the wild apple orchard that marked where they should turn southward again. After what seemed like too long a time, but was naught but an hour and a half.
They bumbled in the darkness and rain, when Jeremy felt something crunch beneath his boot. Looking down he saw it was a small apple. He looked around and wiped the rain from his eyes and then shielded them.
“I think this is the orchard,” Jeremy said, pointing to the small trees around them, and now the rotting apples underfoot.
“Yes,” agreed Ratchis. “I believe south is this way.” The tall man pointed what he hoped was southward, and from the mist in that direction emerged several figures. The shambled forward, in a line of about half a dozen. The rain pelted their blind eyes, and their flesh was rotten and covered in the tattered rags that were once sailor’s clothing. One had a rusted sabre through his gut, but still it walked forward, moaning softly. The cam with outstretched arms and blackened claw-like nails, knowing nothing but the desire to eat all flesh, to quench all life.
The companions prepared to meet them in battle, and suddenly realized as more appeared in the mist: They were outnumbered.
----
The zombies lurched forward through the rain, breaking up the party line into two groups, with Ratchis, Beorth and Kazrack in front and Jana, Jeremy and Chance in the rear.
The zombies grabbed at them with the stubborn and unyielding strength of death, rend the flesh from their limbs, the stench of putrescence coming off them in waves despite the torrential rain. Now that they were fighting for their very lives, pushing off the groping limbs, they could see that four of the zombies were not dressed as sailors, as the other four were
Three were dressed in frock coats with tall collars, with rotted flowers in their lapels, the flesh of their faces shriveled up in a permanent grimace, like a rich man recoiling from a beggar. The fourth of this group, was a woman in life, in a high collar dress with a many layered petticoat, high-heeled boots and her wiry remaining hair pulled back in a tight iron-colored bun.
Ratchis fought with his long-bladed hunting knife, cutting chunks of dead flesh off the sailor zombies, while Beorth did the same with his long sword. Kazrack, swung his halberd in wide arcs, cutting at zombies to keep them at bay, but they ignored the danger of the pole-axe’s broad blade and walked towards him, spurting a strange bluish liquid from their wounds. Jeremy was having a harder time, stumbling from blow after blow from the gnarled fists of the undead, as Chance hesitated behind him, and Jana swung her club ineffectively.
Standing back, Ratchis slipped the knotted and worn chain of cracked links from around his waist and began to swing it over his head.
“Nephthys, please send down your divine grace so that these poor slaves’ bodies could be put to rest and not made to toil in death as they did in life,” the tall woodsman cried, and two of the zombies turned and fled in the face of that divine power. Beorth hacked one of the sailor zombies down and turned to help, Kazrack who was fending off two, while Ratchis charged after one of the fleeing ones. He sliced opened the back of one revealing its spine and as it turned, he slice again quickly sending its right hand flying off in a random direction, spurting the blue foul smelling liquid in their bodies all over his face and chest.
Meanwhile, Jeremy was having trouble, Jana and Chance retreated from repeated blows they suffered, but Jeremy stood his ground, and soon his blood was flowing to mix with the zombie gore flying about. Beorth helped Kazrack finish another and in at the end of his vision saw a faint glowing green light in the woods. It pulsed twice and disappeared. Ratchis charged towards the zombie Jeremy was still fighting, as the Neergaardian had managed to fell one, but he arrived too late, as his companion fell from a harsh blow to the neck, dropping his swords in the muck developing beneath their feet. Ratchis stepped between the lurching zombie and Jeremy’s fallen form, as Chance and Jana crouched over the fallen companion. With a wide swing another hand was removed at the wrist. Kazrack turned to help Ratchis, and Beorth tried to finish another zombie as it tried to turn and move away from him, but it took one last swing at him knocking him down into the mud and shambled away. By the time the paladin stood and Ratchis and Kazrack finished their zombie, both it and the one Ratchis’ turned had disappeared into the night.
“How is Jeremy?” Ratchis asked in his gravelly voice.
Jana looked up from the injured Neergaardian, “He is stable.” And she looked at Chance, who nodded.
“Stay here and guard him. I am going to look for shelter. We need a place to rest for the night,” Ratchis said.
“Don’t you think we should find the mortuary?” asked Kazrack.
“Not in this condition, and not if we have to carry Jeremy,” said the woodsman and he was off. He returned a few moments later, and said he found a spot where two trees had fallen to create a natural shelter, where they might be out of the majority of the rain.
“Moving Jeremy will be difficult. He is stable, but still unconscious,” said Jana.
Ratchis knelt down on knee beside Jeremy and putting his hand over one of the now bandaged wounds spoke aloud, “Nephthys, may your compassion light heal his body and spirit so that he may fight to end the bondage of these undead abominations.”
And with that the wound closed some, and Jeremy’s eyes blinked.
“Ugh, I’, alive?” Jeremy croaked. “Ow, everything hurts.”
They helped him up and Beorth and Chance helped him hobble along to the shelter Ratchis had found.
They settled down for the night, and Chance fell immediately fell asleep, while the others discussed a fire and who would take watch.
“We should not light a fire,” said Kazrack, squeezing the water from his beard.
“It is cold and wet, and it may help Jeremy be more comfortable and thus recover easier,” said Ratchis.
“But some of the undead things escaped us, and the fire might draw them back,” said Kazrack.
“I do not think it would matter. It was the glowing green light that called them away, and regardless, undead can sense life and hate it. It matters not if we have a fire, at least in terms of the zombies,” said Beorth without emotion.
“Glowing green light?” asked Kazrack.
“Yes, it pulsed twice in the wood south of us as we fought. It was then that the zombies began to turn away from the battle.
Chance was in a position to see it as well, though I do not know if he did,” Beorth replied.
Chance snorted in his sleep as if in reply.
“Well, there may be other things about. I am taking first watch. I think we can live for a few hours before dawn without a fire, and I do not need the light of the fire to see by,” said Kazrack.
“Fine by me,” said Ratchis, unrolling a fur blanket and falling immediately to sleep.
Jana checked Jeremy’s bandages, and then followed suit. Beorth watched with Kazrack briefly, and then he slipped off his armor and slept as well.
----
The night waned and the harsh rain mellowed to a trickle and then stopped all together, leaving only the sound of the droplets dripping from the apple littered trees around them.
The first lights were visible when Chance awoke to find Kazrack’s head bobbing in an effort to fight off sleep.
“Kahs-rahk,” Chance said. “Gah ta slep, mahn. Ahm awek now and will watch.”
Kazrack grudgingly agreed and went to sleep.
-----
Anulem, 21st of Ese - 564 H.E.
Ratchis awoke hours later. The light of Ra’s Glory was reflected in each drop of rain clinging to the autumnal leaves giving the morning an unreal sheen that for a moment made him feel as if he might still be in a dream. Everyone else still slept. Chance snored lightly in a sitting position drooped over a log on his left. Pausing to breath in the chilly morning air, the large man got up to his knees and began to pray to his goddess. In time the rhythmic murmuring awoke Beorth, who stood and stretched. Beorth began to gather some nearby wood for a fire, when Ratchis prayer was interrupted by the not too distant sound of animal’s cry.
“Did you hear that?” said Beorth, his arms holding a few sticks of wet wood.
Ratchis stood and cocked his head. The cry came again, high-pitched and full of agony. Grabbing his staff, and not bothering to put on his armor, Ratchis ran in the direction of the sound.
Beorth dropped the wood and looking around for a moment grabbed his sword. He took off after Ratchis, who had already disappeared among the apple trees, leaving behind the others in ignorant sleep.
Ratchis came over a low ridge to see a huge animal sprawled out in a clearing. It was greater than six feet long and its body was covered in a thick, grizzled dark brown fur, and it’s face was lined and crowned with white. Its front legs were short and muscular and ended with long clawed paws, but as it dragged itself forward the woodsman could t ell that it’s rear leg was caught in a powerful metal trap, and blood oozed outward matting its fur.
As Ratchis slowly approached it, he could see it was weak and he halted one fearful moment as it began to yank at its trap wildly, convulsing in unfocused rage, screeching (as he had heard it before) and foaming flicking its muzzle. After a few moments, it settled back to trying to dragging itself slowly along again, but not gain ground. It’s breathing was heavy and labored.
Ratchis walked slowly around to its front an as soon as it sensed him it began its wild frenzy of movement again. This time is lasted much longer, crying out again and again in frustration, anger and agony.
After a few moments Beorth approached.
“What is it?” the paladin of Anubis asked.
“It is a badger, but I’ve never seen one this big before,” his gravelly voice was filled with pity for the creature’s suffering.
“Can you heal it?” Beorth asked, inwardly wondering if death might not be a better choice for the creature.
“If I got too close it’ll likely rip my arm off. In my experience, once a creature of this kind enters a rage it will not stop until it or all around it are dead. Since we have no way to subdue it, I guess I will have to put it out of its misery. It is almost dead anyway.”
Ratchis stood at the very edge that his quarterstaff could reach and taking one end in both hands swung hard and high over his head, striking the huge badger on top of the head with a sickening crunch. It let out a final blast of breath and ceased to move, blood seeping slowly from its mouth and nose.
Ratchis and Beorth looked at the creature silently, when suddenly they heard a grizzled voice call out, “That there’s my kill, boys. Ya best stand away!”
---
Meanwhile, Kazrack awoke with a start and the feeling that he had overslept. He stood up and saw Chance where he slouched over drooling. With a grunt he looked and saw Beorth and Ratchis were gone, and he kicked Chance awake. In the distance he heard the cry of the huge badger, though he did not know what is was.
“Huh? Wha?” Chance said groggily, putting his arms up reflexively
“Where are Ratchis and Beorth?” Kazrack asked roughly.
“How sha ah nah? I whus sleepin’!” Chance said, annoyed.
“And you were supposed to be watching!” Kazrack yelled in something close to a fatherly tone.
“Well, ah whus tired, `n it whus light out. Ah figured we whus safe fer a while.”
“Well come on, let’s find them,” commanded Kazrack.
“What about Jana and Jeremy?” Chance asked.
“I’m awake. You think could sleep with his bellowing? Go ahead and go find them. I’ll watch Jeremy,” said Jana groggily.
Kazrack took up his halberd and took off in the direction of the animal sounds. Chance followed behind.
“Bad enough I’m wounded,” said Jeremy rolling over. “I think I have a headache now.”
---
A tall and broad man stepped out of the trees. He had an unkempt hickory beard, saucer-like eyes, long brown hair and wore a long thick coat of bear fur over his leather armor. He also wore a fur hat, and carried a spear.
“That there little badger is mine,” he said in a gruff voice, smiling. “That’s my trap. It was my bait.”
“That’s fine,” replied Ratchis. “We had no intent on taking it.”
“Yeah, well that’s good. We don’t look kindly on poachers around here.”
“We are hunting zombies, not badgers,” said Beorth.
“Zombies?” the man spit, and looked at Beorth in the eye. “Whatcha be wantin’ them fer? Ya can’t eat them and they got no coat to speak of.”
“We need to destroy the menace,” said Beorth.
‘Well, a menace they are, but they ain’t too bad. If there’s only one or two ya can get rid of them pruty easily, and if they’re more, you can always outrun `em,” the hunter said.
“I am Beorth, servant of Anubis,” the paladin said. “And this is Ratchis.”
The hunter looked Ratchis up and down and grunted.
“They call me Jack-Knife Hawkins,” he said.
“Do you run into the zombies a lot?” Beorth asked.
“Well, I be seeing these past relations every couple of fortnights, been kinda more regular like lately though,” Jack-Knife said.
At this time, Kazrack and Chance came walking up towards them.
“Heh, don’t see many Stonefolk around here,” Jack-Knife said, turning to begin cleaning the badger body.
“Do you know where the zombies come from?” Beorth asked.
“Probably the ole crypt over yonder hill,” he gestured to the south. “Now, if you all will excuse me, I gotta clean and skin this beastie, and that’ll take the better part of the day.”
“Ratchis?” Kazrack said.
“The sound was just this animal caught in that trap,” Ratchis said.
“It doesn’t matter what it was,” Kazrack said. “You should not have left without telling anyone. It is not safe.”
“Beorth knew I left,” Ratchis said simply beginning to walk back towards camp.
“But Beorth came with you,” Kazrack said.
“I could not let him go into possible danger alone,” Beorth said in his normal quiet tone.
“But you left us alone and asleep,” said Kazrack.
“We did not go far,” said Ratchis. “It worked out fine.”
“But it might not have,” Kazrack insisted.
“But it did,” Ratchis said, flatly.
They returned to camp, where Jeremy achingly awakened to join the group in a meager morning meal, and receive healing from Ratchis by the grace of Nephthys.
They then headed out across the orchard, past Jack-Knife Hawkins (who was still dealing with his kill) and over a hill and up another until they came to an incredible sight.
Beyond the second hill, buried in a huge pile of rubble stood what seemed to be a mastaba; (67) only the very top (and possible entrance) was visible, along with the slightest hint of stone steps that led down into the rubble. The doors to the tomb atop the oblong base were flanked by statues that must have been twenty feet tall or even taller, as only their torso and above were visible. While both statues were of black stone and jackal headed, the one on the doors’ left had a solemn countenance and medium build. It had its arms folded across its chest, hands near its shoulders, the right holding a crook (68), the left an ankh. The right hand statue had a face with a fierce and snarling countenance. It was broadly built and it’s right hand pointed forward, a serpent entwined about the forearm. It’s left hand was held at it’s waist, below the line of the rubble.
They could also see a small shack to the right of the structure. It looked dilapidated and old, set among tall harsh grasses. Behind the mastaba peeked the remains of what appeared to have once been a very large mansion long ago burned down to the foundation.
“How did that thing get covered in rubble? There are no nearby cliff faces or mountains or even hills close enough for an avalanche or earthquake to cause such a thing,” observed Kazrack.
The rest wondered silently.
“Well, at least some of the answers to our questions will be found here,” said Beorth. “Let us go down to the shack and see what we can find out about this place. The statues on the right is Anubis in the traditional stance of guardianship, while the one on the right is Set the Tyrant.”
Beorth, Chance, Jana, Jeremy, Kazrack and Ratchis made their way down to the old shack. In the front of the shack had a boarded window, and a slab of off-white stone about 7 feet long and 3 feet wide lay in the yard.
Racthis stepped up to the door and knocked loudly with his big ham-fist.
Kazrack called out, “Hello?”
Ratchis knocked again, more loudly.
“Go away! There’s no one here,” cried someone inside, a man whose voice was made high-pitched by anxiety.
“We’ve come to see about the zombies that trouble this area,” called Beorth through the door.
“Go away,” the voice called again. “Leave us alone. They haven’t hurt anybody!”
The party paused and all looked at each other.
“How do you live out here by yourself?” Kazrack asked.
“Go away,” the frantic voice cracked. “Leave us alone. I haven’t done anything to anybody. I won’t let you hurt them. People always want to hurt them!”
At this Ratchis threw all his weight against the door. It shuddered, but held. A high pitched scream of fear came from inside. “Go away! Go away! You aren’t allowed in here! Go!”
Ratchis slammed against the door again and it swung open violently. The large man stumbled with his unexpected success, but could see the pudgy form of the man inside shuffling madly away from the door as he screamed.
“Get out of my house! You aren’t invited! Go out! Ah! Ah! Don’t hurt me! I won’t let you hurt them!” he cried over and over.
Regaining his balance, Ratchis charged into the shack and tackled the man who struggled pathetically, his weak blows and loose fists ineffectively keeping the brawny woodsman from grabbing him and dragging him outside.
“Get off of me!” the man screamed. “Let me go! You’ll never get me to let you hurt them! Leave me alone!”
Ratchis dropped the man on the ground. He wore simple woolen pants, worn leather shoes, a vest, and his thinning hair was plastered to his pimply scalp. The man got up awkwardly and tried to run away, but Jeremy blocked his way, and Ratchis pushed the man back to the ground.
“Stop!” said Ratchis roughly. “We are not here to hurt you or anyone else.”
The man looked up expectantly at Ratchis. “What are you here for then?” the man asked meekly.
“We are here to destroy the zombie threat,” said Ratchis.
“There are no zombies!” the man screamed, and tried to get up, but Ratchis placed a knee in the man’s back, keeping him down. “That’s my family. I have to protect them! Don’t hurt them! Don’t hurt them!”
He began to sob uncontrollably. “Why do you want to hurt my family? Why? Why?”
“Your family?” Jeremy asked, stepping closer. “You do know they are all dead, right?”
“They are not dead! I’m supposed to take care of them! Why are you so evil? Just leave us alone!”
Meanwhile, Beorth and Jana looked around the shack. The two windows were nailed shut, and the little light in there came through cracks in the boards and shutters. The place was disheveled. There was a simple cot in one corner, and a pot-bellied stove in another. A crate held a collection of shovels, brooms, mops and a crowbar. The most obvious feature of the shack was a strange stone cap in the floor. It was round and fit perfectly into a hole in the floor; metal ring was in its center. Above it hung a thick metal hook connected to a chain, which was run through a pulley to a wheel on the wall by the door.
Outside, the shack’s former occupant continued to cry, now having been bound by Ratchis.. His face turned a bright red and his voice became a constant shriek of consternation and lamentation.
“Go away! Go away! Leave us alone!” he cried over and over again.
“We are trying to help you,” Jeremy said, in his best attempt to be soothing.
“I hate you! I hate you!” the man said through his madness. “Set curse you! Set Curse you!”
Jeremy stepped away from the man in fear, “whoa!”
“Set curse –“
He did not get to continue his curses. Kazrack stepped up and with a well-placed punch to the temple knocked the poor man out with one blow.
Everyone looked at the man’s crumpled form and shook their heads.
“He’s crazy,” said Chance.
“He was calling down Set to curse us,” Jeremy said quietly and with some fear.
“He thinks those zombies are his family,” said Kazrack. “How does someone become like that?”
“Living among the dead for years, I would guess,” said Ratchis.
Ratchis lifted the now unconscious man and brought him back into the shack and placed him on the cot. He searched the man and took the only two things the man had. A simple gold ring with an inset ruby and a pendant on a leather thong. The pendant seemed curved like a green fang and was made of malachite. It was about two and half inches long. He gave the items to Beorth is hold.
In the meantime everyone looked around, but could find no clue as to what was causing the zombies to be created. The only thing left to do was to use the hook and chain to lift the stone cap and explore the area beneath the shack.
Beorth place the hook in the ring and then turned the rusty wheel and was able to lift the stone cap out and swing it over and place it on the ground beside the dark gaping hole.
Ratchis stood by the whole and waited a second and listened. The sound of soft shuffling became apparent.
“Kazrack, cover me I’m going in,” Ratchis said.
“Wait, it’s dark in there! How will you see?” Jeremy called.
But it was too late, Ratchis leapt down in to the darkness.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(67) Mastaba: An ancient Egyptian tomb with a rectangular base, sloping sides, and a flat roof.
(68) The crook is a scepter-like badge of station wielded by the gods of Ra’s Pantheon and the pharaoh-kings of old. It appears as a short cane with a rounded end.
Jeremy, Chance, Jana, Beorth, Ratchis and Kazrack continued marching south by southwest along the river. An hour after they battle with the skeletons, Ratchis said, “We should be seeing the oxbow soon.”
“What is an oxbow?” asked Kazrack.
“I was wondering the same thing,” said Jeremy.
“It is when a river or stream loops back on itself, and then the loop gets closed off from the river and starts to dry up,” Ratchis explained, and as if to exemplify the point, the oxbow came into view.
As they turned eastward at the oxbow as the herbalist had directed, a dark front of clouds rolled in from the west with frightening speed. A cold howling wind pushed at their backs, and they held their cloaks tight around their shoulders. Thunder broke above them and suddenly an intense rain came down in a constant torrent. The already setting sun was obscured by a deep grayness in all directions.
The party was immediately soaked and shivering, and visibility was obscured to just a dozen feet or so.
They continued onward in what they hoped was a straight line, led by Ratchis, and looking for the wild apple orchard that marked where they should turn southward again. After what seemed like too long a time, but was naught but an hour and a half.
They bumbled in the darkness and rain, when Jeremy felt something crunch beneath his boot. Looking down he saw it was a small apple. He looked around and wiped the rain from his eyes and then shielded them.
“I think this is the orchard,” Jeremy said, pointing to the small trees around them, and now the rotting apples underfoot.
“Yes,” agreed Ratchis. “I believe south is this way.” The tall man pointed what he hoped was southward, and from the mist in that direction emerged several figures. The shambled forward, in a line of about half a dozen. The rain pelted their blind eyes, and their flesh was rotten and covered in the tattered rags that were once sailor’s clothing. One had a rusted sabre through his gut, but still it walked forward, moaning softly. The cam with outstretched arms and blackened claw-like nails, knowing nothing but the desire to eat all flesh, to quench all life.
The companions prepared to meet them in battle, and suddenly realized as more appeared in the mist: They were outnumbered.
----
The zombies lurched forward through the rain, breaking up the party line into two groups, with Ratchis, Beorth and Kazrack in front and Jana, Jeremy and Chance in the rear.
The zombies grabbed at them with the stubborn and unyielding strength of death, rend the flesh from their limbs, the stench of putrescence coming off them in waves despite the torrential rain. Now that they were fighting for their very lives, pushing off the groping limbs, they could see that four of the zombies were not dressed as sailors, as the other four were
Three were dressed in frock coats with tall collars, with rotted flowers in their lapels, the flesh of their faces shriveled up in a permanent grimace, like a rich man recoiling from a beggar. The fourth of this group, was a woman in life, in a high collar dress with a many layered petticoat, high-heeled boots and her wiry remaining hair pulled back in a tight iron-colored bun.
Ratchis fought with his long-bladed hunting knife, cutting chunks of dead flesh off the sailor zombies, while Beorth did the same with his long sword. Kazrack, swung his halberd in wide arcs, cutting at zombies to keep them at bay, but they ignored the danger of the pole-axe’s broad blade and walked towards him, spurting a strange bluish liquid from their wounds. Jeremy was having a harder time, stumbling from blow after blow from the gnarled fists of the undead, as Chance hesitated behind him, and Jana swung her club ineffectively.
Standing back, Ratchis slipped the knotted and worn chain of cracked links from around his waist and began to swing it over his head.
“Nephthys, please send down your divine grace so that these poor slaves’ bodies could be put to rest and not made to toil in death as they did in life,” the tall woodsman cried, and two of the zombies turned and fled in the face of that divine power. Beorth hacked one of the sailor zombies down and turned to help, Kazrack who was fending off two, while Ratchis charged after one of the fleeing ones. He sliced opened the back of one revealing its spine and as it turned, he slice again quickly sending its right hand flying off in a random direction, spurting the blue foul smelling liquid in their bodies all over his face and chest.
Meanwhile, Jeremy was having trouble, Jana and Chance retreated from repeated blows they suffered, but Jeremy stood his ground, and soon his blood was flowing to mix with the zombie gore flying about. Beorth helped Kazrack finish another and in at the end of his vision saw a faint glowing green light in the woods. It pulsed twice and disappeared. Ratchis charged towards the zombie Jeremy was still fighting, as the Neergaardian had managed to fell one, but he arrived too late, as his companion fell from a harsh blow to the neck, dropping his swords in the muck developing beneath their feet. Ratchis stepped between the lurching zombie and Jeremy’s fallen form, as Chance and Jana crouched over the fallen companion. With a wide swing another hand was removed at the wrist. Kazrack turned to help Ratchis, and Beorth tried to finish another zombie as it tried to turn and move away from him, but it took one last swing at him knocking him down into the mud and shambled away. By the time the paladin stood and Ratchis and Kazrack finished their zombie, both it and the one Ratchis’ turned had disappeared into the night.
“How is Jeremy?” Ratchis asked in his gravelly voice.
Jana looked up from the injured Neergaardian, “He is stable.” And she looked at Chance, who nodded.
“Stay here and guard him. I am going to look for shelter. We need a place to rest for the night,” Ratchis said.
“Don’t you think we should find the mortuary?” asked Kazrack.
“Not in this condition, and not if we have to carry Jeremy,” said the woodsman and he was off. He returned a few moments later, and said he found a spot where two trees had fallen to create a natural shelter, where they might be out of the majority of the rain.
“Moving Jeremy will be difficult. He is stable, but still unconscious,” said Jana.
Ratchis knelt down on knee beside Jeremy and putting his hand over one of the now bandaged wounds spoke aloud, “Nephthys, may your compassion light heal his body and spirit so that he may fight to end the bondage of these undead abominations.”
And with that the wound closed some, and Jeremy’s eyes blinked.
“Ugh, I’, alive?” Jeremy croaked. “Ow, everything hurts.”
They helped him up and Beorth and Chance helped him hobble along to the shelter Ratchis had found.
They settled down for the night, and Chance fell immediately fell asleep, while the others discussed a fire and who would take watch.
“We should not light a fire,” said Kazrack, squeezing the water from his beard.
“It is cold and wet, and it may help Jeremy be more comfortable and thus recover easier,” said Ratchis.
“But some of the undead things escaped us, and the fire might draw them back,” said Kazrack.
“I do not think it would matter. It was the glowing green light that called them away, and regardless, undead can sense life and hate it. It matters not if we have a fire, at least in terms of the zombies,” said Beorth without emotion.
“Glowing green light?” asked Kazrack.
“Yes, it pulsed twice in the wood south of us as we fought. It was then that the zombies began to turn away from the battle.
Chance was in a position to see it as well, though I do not know if he did,” Beorth replied.
Chance snorted in his sleep as if in reply.
“Well, there may be other things about. I am taking first watch. I think we can live for a few hours before dawn without a fire, and I do not need the light of the fire to see by,” said Kazrack.
“Fine by me,” said Ratchis, unrolling a fur blanket and falling immediately to sleep.
Jana checked Jeremy’s bandages, and then followed suit. Beorth watched with Kazrack briefly, and then he slipped off his armor and slept as well.
----
The night waned and the harsh rain mellowed to a trickle and then stopped all together, leaving only the sound of the droplets dripping from the apple littered trees around them.
The first lights were visible when Chance awoke to find Kazrack’s head bobbing in an effort to fight off sleep.
“Kahs-rahk,” Chance said. “Gah ta slep, mahn. Ahm awek now and will watch.”
Kazrack grudgingly agreed and went to sleep.
-----
Anulem, 21st of Ese - 564 H.E.
Ratchis awoke hours later. The light of Ra’s Glory was reflected in each drop of rain clinging to the autumnal leaves giving the morning an unreal sheen that for a moment made him feel as if he might still be in a dream. Everyone else still slept. Chance snored lightly in a sitting position drooped over a log on his left. Pausing to breath in the chilly morning air, the large man got up to his knees and began to pray to his goddess. In time the rhythmic murmuring awoke Beorth, who stood and stretched. Beorth began to gather some nearby wood for a fire, when Ratchis prayer was interrupted by the not too distant sound of animal’s cry.
“Did you hear that?” said Beorth, his arms holding a few sticks of wet wood.
Ratchis stood and cocked his head. The cry came again, high-pitched and full of agony. Grabbing his staff, and not bothering to put on his armor, Ratchis ran in the direction of the sound.
Beorth dropped the wood and looking around for a moment grabbed his sword. He took off after Ratchis, who had already disappeared among the apple trees, leaving behind the others in ignorant sleep.
Ratchis came over a low ridge to see a huge animal sprawled out in a clearing. It was greater than six feet long and its body was covered in a thick, grizzled dark brown fur, and it’s face was lined and crowned with white. Its front legs were short and muscular and ended with long clawed paws, but as it dragged itself forward the woodsman could t ell that it’s rear leg was caught in a powerful metal trap, and blood oozed outward matting its fur.
As Ratchis slowly approached it, he could see it was weak and he halted one fearful moment as it began to yank at its trap wildly, convulsing in unfocused rage, screeching (as he had heard it before) and foaming flicking its muzzle. After a few moments, it settled back to trying to dragging itself slowly along again, but not gain ground. It’s breathing was heavy and labored.
Ratchis walked slowly around to its front an as soon as it sensed him it began its wild frenzy of movement again. This time is lasted much longer, crying out again and again in frustration, anger and agony.
After a few moments Beorth approached.
“What is it?” the paladin of Anubis asked.
“It is a badger, but I’ve never seen one this big before,” his gravelly voice was filled with pity for the creature’s suffering.
“Can you heal it?” Beorth asked, inwardly wondering if death might not be a better choice for the creature.
“If I got too close it’ll likely rip my arm off. In my experience, once a creature of this kind enters a rage it will not stop until it or all around it are dead. Since we have no way to subdue it, I guess I will have to put it out of its misery. It is almost dead anyway.”
Ratchis stood at the very edge that his quarterstaff could reach and taking one end in both hands swung hard and high over his head, striking the huge badger on top of the head with a sickening crunch. It let out a final blast of breath and ceased to move, blood seeping slowly from its mouth and nose.
Ratchis and Beorth looked at the creature silently, when suddenly they heard a grizzled voice call out, “That there’s my kill, boys. Ya best stand away!”
---
Meanwhile, Kazrack awoke with a start and the feeling that he had overslept. He stood up and saw Chance where he slouched over drooling. With a grunt he looked and saw Beorth and Ratchis were gone, and he kicked Chance awake. In the distance he heard the cry of the huge badger, though he did not know what is was.
“Huh? Wha?” Chance said groggily, putting his arms up reflexively
“Where are Ratchis and Beorth?” Kazrack asked roughly.
“How sha ah nah? I whus sleepin’!” Chance said, annoyed.
“And you were supposed to be watching!” Kazrack yelled in something close to a fatherly tone.
“Well, ah whus tired, `n it whus light out. Ah figured we whus safe fer a while.”
“Well come on, let’s find them,” commanded Kazrack.
“What about Jana and Jeremy?” Chance asked.
“I’m awake. You think could sleep with his bellowing? Go ahead and go find them. I’ll watch Jeremy,” said Jana groggily.
Kazrack took up his halberd and took off in the direction of the animal sounds. Chance followed behind.
“Bad enough I’m wounded,” said Jeremy rolling over. “I think I have a headache now.”
---
A tall and broad man stepped out of the trees. He had an unkempt hickory beard, saucer-like eyes, long brown hair and wore a long thick coat of bear fur over his leather armor. He also wore a fur hat, and carried a spear.
“That there little badger is mine,” he said in a gruff voice, smiling. “That’s my trap. It was my bait.”
“That’s fine,” replied Ratchis. “We had no intent on taking it.”
“Yeah, well that’s good. We don’t look kindly on poachers around here.”
“We are hunting zombies, not badgers,” said Beorth.
“Zombies?” the man spit, and looked at Beorth in the eye. “Whatcha be wantin’ them fer? Ya can’t eat them and they got no coat to speak of.”
“We need to destroy the menace,” said Beorth.
‘Well, a menace they are, but they ain’t too bad. If there’s only one or two ya can get rid of them pruty easily, and if they’re more, you can always outrun `em,” the hunter said.
“I am Beorth, servant of Anubis,” the paladin said. “And this is Ratchis.”
The hunter looked Ratchis up and down and grunted.
“They call me Jack-Knife Hawkins,” he said.
“Do you run into the zombies a lot?” Beorth asked.
“Well, I be seeing these past relations every couple of fortnights, been kinda more regular like lately though,” Jack-Knife said.
At this time, Kazrack and Chance came walking up towards them.
“Heh, don’t see many Stonefolk around here,” Jack-Knife said, turning to begin cleaning the badger body.
“Do you know where the zombies come from?” Beorth asked.
“Probably the ole crypt over yonder hill,” he gestured to the south. “Now, if you all will excuse me, I gotta clean and skin this beastie, and that’ll take the better part of the day.”
“Ratchis?” Kazrack said.
“The sound was just this animal caught in that trap,” Ratchis said.
“It doesn’t matter what it was,” Kazrack said. “You should not have left without telling anyone. It is not safe.”
“Beorth knew I left,” Ratchis said simply beginning to walk back towards camp.
“But Beorth came with you,” Kazrack said.
“I could not let him go into possible danger alone,” Beorth said in his normal quiet tone.
“But you left us alone and asleep,” said Kazrack.
“We did not go far,” said Ratchis. “It worked out fine.”
“But it might not have,” Kazrack insisted.
“But it did,” Ratchis said, flatly.
They returned to camp, where Jeremy achingly awakened to join the group in a meager morning meal, and receive healing from Ratchis by the grace of Nephthys.
They then headed out across the orchard, past Jack-Knife Hawkins (who was still dealing with his kill) and over a hill and up another until they came to an incredible sight.
Beyond the second hill, buried in a huge pile of rubble stood what seemed to be a mastaba; (67) only the very top (and possible entrance) was visible, along with the slightest hint of stone steps that led down into the rubble. The doors to the tomb atop the oblong base were flanked by statues that must have been twenty feet tall or even taller, as only their torso and above were visible. While both statues were of black stone and jackal headed, the one on the doors’ left had a solemn countenance and medium build. It had its arms folded across its chest, hands near its shoulders, the right holding a crook (68), the left an ankh. The right hand statue had a face with a fierce and snarling countenance. It was broadly built and it’s right hand pointed forward, a serpent entwined about the forearm. It’s left hand was held at it’s waist, below the line of the rubble.
They could also see a small shack to the right of the structure. It looked dilapidated and old, set among tall harsh grasses. Behind the mastaba peeked the remains of what appeared to have once been a very large mansion long ago burned down to the foundation.
“How did that thing get covered in rubble? There are no nearby cliff faces or mountains or even hills close enough for an avalanche or earthquake to cause such a thing,” observed Kazrack.
The rest wondered silently.
“Well, at least some of the answers to our questions will be found here,” said Beorth. “Let us go down to the shack and see what we can find out about this place. The statues on the right is Anubis in the traditional stance of guardianship, while the one on the right is Set the Tyrant.”
Beorth, Chance, Jana, Jeremy, Kazrack and Ratchis made their way down to the old shack. In the front of the shack had a boarded window, and a slab of off-white stone about 7 feet long and 3 feet wide lay in the yard.
Racthis stepped up to the door and knocked loudly with his big ham-fist.
Kazrack called out, “Hello?”
Ratchis knocked again, more loudly.
“Go away! There’s no one here,” cried someone inside, a man whose voice was made high-pitched by anxiety.
“We’ve come to see about the zombies that trouble this area,” called Beorth through the door.
“Go away,” the voice called again. “Leave us alone. They haven’t hurt anybody!”
The party paused and all looked at each other.
“How do you live out here by yourself?” Kazrack asked.
“Go away,” the frantic voice cracked. “Leave us alone. I haven’t done anything to anybody. I won’t let you hurt them. People always want to hurt them!”
At this Ratchis threw all his weight against the door. It shuddered, but held. A high pitched scream of fear came from inside. “Go away! Go away! You aren’t allowed in here! Go!”
Ratchis slammed against the door again and it swung open violently. The large man stumbled with his unexpected success, but could see the pudgy form of the man inside shuffling madly away from the door as he screamed.
“Get out of my house! You aren’t invited! Go out! Ah! Ah! Don’t hurt me! I won’t let you hurt them!” he cried over and over.
Regaining his balance, Ratchis charged into the shack and tackled the man who struggled pathetically, his weak blows and loose fists ineffectively keeping the brawny woodsman from grabbing him and dragging him outside.
“Get off of me!” the man screamed. “Let me go! You’ll never get me to let you hurt them! Leave me alone!”
Ratchis dropped the man on the ground. He wore simple woolen pants, worn leather shoes, a vest, and his thinning hair was plastered to his pimply scalp. The man got up awkwardly and tried to run away, but Jeremy blocked his way, and Ratchis pushed the man back to the ground.
“Stop!” said Ratchis roughly. “We are not here to hurt you or anyone else.”
The man looked up expectantly at Ratchis. “What are you here for then?” the man asked meekly.
“We are here to destroy the zombie threat,” said Ratchis.
“There are no zombies!” the man screamed, and tried to get up, but Ratchis placed a knee in the man’s back, keeping him down. “That’s my family. I have to protect them! Don’t hurt them! Don’t hurt them!”
He began to sob uncontrollably. “Why do you want to hurt my family? Why? Why?”
“Your family?” Jeremy asked, stepping closer. “You do know they are all dead, right?”
“They are not dead! I’m supposed to take care of them! Why are you so evil? Just leave us alone!”
Meanwhile, Beorth and Jana looked around the shack. The two windows were nailed shut, and the little light in there came through cracks in the boards and shutters. The place was disheveled. There was a simple cot in one corner, and a pot-bellied stove in another. A crate held a collection of shovels, brooms, mops and a crowbar. The most obvious feature of the shack was a strange stone cap in the floor. It was round and fit perfectly into a hole in the floor; metal ring was in its center. Above it hung a thick metal hook connected to a chain, which was run through a pulley to a wheel on the wall by the door.
Outside, the shack’s former occupant continued to cry, now having been bound by Ratchis.. His face turned a bright red and his voice became a constant shriek of consternation and lamentation.
“Go away! Go away! Leave us alone!” he cried over and over again.
“We are trying to help you,” Jeremy said, in his best attempt to be soothing.
“I hate you! I hate you!” the man said through his madness. “Set curse you! Set Curse you!”
Jeremy stepped away from the man in fear, “whoa!”
“Set curse –“
He did not get to continue his curses. Kazrack stepped up and with a well-placed punch to the temple knocked the poor man out with one blow.
Everyone looked at the man’s crumpled form and shook their heads.
“He’s crazy,” said Chance.
“He was calling down Set to curse us,” Jeremy said quietly and with some fear.
“He thinks those zombies are his family,” said Kazrack. “How does someone become like that?”
“Living among the dead for years, I would guess,” said Ratchis.
Ratchis lifted the now unconscious man and brought him back into the shack and placed him on the cot. He searched the man and took the only two things the man had. A simple gold ring with an inset ruby and a pendant on a leather thong. The pendant seemed curved like a green fang and was made of malachite. It was about two and half inches long. He gave the items to Beorth is hold.
In the meantime everyone looked around, but could find no clue as to what was causing the zombies to be created. The only thing left to do was to use the hook and chain to lift the stone cap and explore the area beneath the shack.
Beorth place the hook in the ring and then turned the rusty wheel and was able to lift the stone cap out and swing it over and place it on the ground beside the dark gaping hole.
Ratchis stood by the whole and waited a second and listened. The sound of soft shuffling became apparent.
“Kazrack, cover me I’m going in,” Ratchis said.
“Wait, it’s dark in there! How will you see?” Jeremy called.
But it was too late, Ratchis leapt down in to the darkness.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(67) Mastaba: An ancient Egyptian tomb with a rectangular base, sloping sides, and a flat roof.
(68) The crook is a scepter-like badge of station wielded by the gods of Ra’s Pantheon and the pharaoh-kings of old. It appears as a short cane with a rounded end.
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