The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)

[Ghostknight]

Its always fun to drop those little bomb shells and make people question their assumptions. Poor Talen is having his little reality over turned by Varo.

 

[Lazybones]

Six hundred posts in seven months... that was fast.

Thanks again to all readers who have supported the story hour by reading and posting.

* * * * *

Chapter 129

A SECOND FRONT


The central market and gathering space of the goblin city of Grezneck was located in a huge irregular cavern, approximately three hundred and fifty feet wide, and over five hundred feet long at its furthest extent. In typical times, the place was crowded with hundreds of goblins and other creatures, guests and traders at the goblin city. Orcs, giants, and ogres were common visitors, and sometimes even drow, duergar, or derro could be seen moving between the dozens of market stalls set up around the perimeter of the place. A constant din of activity usually filled the cavern, as the voices of those many visitors filled the place with a constant and tumultuous babel.

But not now.

A thick haze of smoke filled the air, obscuring a clear view of the place. Several fires continued to flicker around the perimeter of the cavern, as the remnants of a few stalls and shops burned. Through the haze, bodies could be seen, scattered here and there, many of which had been hacked to pieces. An overpowering stench of blood and smoke and waste filled the place, slowly turning as the inevitable sweet smell of rot crept in.

Goblin prisoners, many heavily bound, lay in occasional groups scattered across the chamber, guarded by undead monsters, mostly skeletons and zombies, many of which had until recently been residents of the city themselves. A few taller, heavily-armored figures clad in black walked among them, directing the undead. Files of prisoners were marched out of the chamber even as new groups were escorted in.

A goblin entered the chamber in the company of one of these groups of prisoners. This creature was clearly not a captive, clad in the black robes of the cult of Orcus, which could not entirely conceal the plate armor it wore, or the weapons that dangled from its belt. A pair of shadows followed it, hovering behind its shoulders.

The goblin crossed the cavern to the raised mound that jutted out into it from the far wall. The mound was surrounded by a low moat, crossed only by a crude and narrow bridge fashioned of bones and leather. Bodies bobbed in the moat, the corpses already bloated near to bursting.

The goblin crossed the bridge and ascended the mound, having some difficulty due to the weight of its gear. A pair of armored humans awaited it. They were looking out over the scene as it finally gained the summit of the mound, about fifteen feet above the level of the surrounding cavern floor. A large stone block was set here as well, an altar carved with unholy markings. Neither human turned to greet the newcomer.

“Lord Theron,” the goblin hissed.

One of the two humans turned. The other, a female, stood behind him, offering only a desultory look through the eyeslits of her full helm. Both wore surcoats over their armor that bore the sigil of Orcus. The goblin had power, that much was obvious in the way that it held a pair of shadows in thrall, but it clearly deferred to the humans.

“Report,” Theron said, his voice deep and sonorous within the depths of his helm.

“Herzord has rallied several hundred warriors in the barracks complex,” the goblin said. “Most of the rest of the city has been pacified; there are a few pockets of resistance, but none will last the day.”

“It would seem that your treachery was not completely unanticipated, Tribitz,” the woman priest said. “What of the clerics that betrayed their oaths to the True God?”

“Nearly all have been taken, Lady Celleen,” the goblin said. “I swear to you, by day’s end, all will begin their repentance for their sins against the Master.”

“And Herzord?” she asked.

“His position is very strong, great lady. In addition to his own forces, he was able to evacuate a large percentage of the city’s garrison before loyal forces could cut them off.”

“And they managed to destroy your vaunted stone golem in the process,” Celleen said.

“Regrettably, true. But the spider demon that the Master granted me proved quite effective in destroying the other cells of resistance. Unfortunately, such a creature cannot fit into the narrow confines of the barracks complex. The entrance has been heavily fortified.”

Celleen started to offer a reply, but Theron forestalled her with a small gesture. “What of the incorporeal undead that were loaned to you?”

The goblin paused, just for an instant, but one that was noted by both humans. “Ah, that was my first thought as well, as no mundane defense can stand against such creatures. Most disappointingly, they were destroyed. It would seem that the enemy has priests among its ranks.”

“Priests? I thought you had said that the worship of your goblin-god had been supplanted by the true faith here in Grezneck.”

“Yes, that is true, great lord,” the goblin said. It pointedly did not look at the altar stone, which, though covered with fresh sigils and symbols across its top and sides praising the demon prince, still had faint markings along its base that were just visible, reminders of the earlier loyalties of Grezneck’s religious community. “However, it would seem that there were a few... ah... some individuals that paid homage to the Dark Creeper, in secret.”

“Dagos,” Theron said. “What a surprise. And I presume that most of these heretics are now with the guard captain and his allies?”

“Yes, great lord.”

The human looked away for a moment. “You may go,” he finally said. “Continue mopping up the resistance. For now, set a strong guard at the entrance to the barracks. We will deal with them soon enough.”

The goblin nodded, and quickly departed. The humans stood there in silence until it had crossed the bridge, and vanished back into the haze of the cavern.

“That creature is a filthy worm,” Celleen finally said.

“Do not underestimate him,” Theron replied. “He managed to successfully conceal a plot to destroy his own city, gained power over a greater stone golem, and, as he so pointedly reminded us, summoned a bebilith and bound it to his will. And under the circumstances, the defection of a third of his priests is to be expected. In all honesty, I thought that it would be an even split between those who remained loyal to the True God, and those that chose loyalty to their own race and people once Tribitz betrayed them.”

“Once the last resistance is quashed, we should sacrifice the lot of them, starting with Tribitz. That a creature so loathsome should have such power...”

“It may come to that, but do not be so quick to promote cannibalization of the ranks of the faithful,” Theron said. “After all, that logic, taken to its furthest extend, can be dangerous to us as well.”

“We are favored,” Celleen said, but her tone made it clear that the man’s words had scored.

“For the moment. And do not forget that a mere month ago, we were mere functionaries ourselves, middling priests, in the ranks with Severus, Dallia, Acheros and the like. Zehn and Gudmund were far more powerful than we.”

“We were chosen for greater things.”

“Perhaps. I wonder if even Maphistal realized what would happen, when we were sent into the slave pits to take charge of the prisoners, and begin refinement of the Rite of Sacrifice. I am beginning to wonder, myself. The rituals we helped craft are what has allowed the plan to move ahead; without the ability to siphon life energy into the Sphere of Souls, we never would have gotten this far. But that we would draw some of that power into ourselves as part of the process... I believe that this was an unexpected side effect.”

“Whatever the cause, we are already more powerful than Gudmund ever was... and you above all, Theron. With these new prisoners, we will gain even more power. Soon, perhaps, even Maphistal may have reason to fear...”

Theron lifted a hand to stop her. “Do not say it, and if you are wise, do not even think it, Celleen.” He turned away and looked out over the city. “In hindsight, none of this is really unanticipated. As the hour of the final breaking approaches, old ways will crumble, new realities will emerge, and the situation will become fluid. Zehn and Gudmund have fallen, and new powers have risen in their places. But these events have only been the beginning. Do not imagine that we will be allowed to move forward to the end without intervention from those whose world lies on the cutting board.”

“I too have read the Codex, my love. Our victory is inevitable.”

He turned back to her. “Perhaps.”

“Heresy?” she asked, her voice light.

“If it were not for heresy, we never would have perfected the Rite,” he told her. “Come, we are done here, for the moment; Phesor will have already prepared the temple in the pits for the ritual. Let us grant the True God his tithe, and then... enjoy our reward.”

Something eager flashed in her eyes, and she stepped closer to him. “Yes,” she said, the single word filled with meaning.

The pair left, ignoring both the undead moving about the cavern, and the pathetic cries of the captives, whose torment was only just beginning.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 130

RUNNING


The surrouding night was pushed back by a bubble of light as the eight surviving members of the company of fifteen from Camar ran along the dark road north. They made a considerable among of noise, mostly from the clanking armor of the group’s fighters. But a deeper noise filled the night, a faint, rhythmic thumping that shook the ground at regular intervals.

“It’s gaining again,” Shay said, bringing up the rear of the company. She was by far their fastest, even without taking her magical boots into account, but she had spent much of the last two hours doubling back, checking on the status of their pursuer.

They had considered dropping their heavy armor, which would have added considerably to their average speed. But that would have only postponed the inevitable; Shay had reported that the thing following them was faster than any of them than she herself. Or that was to say, it moved slowly, but it was so damned big, that each stride it took carried it over ground that the humans had to spend dozens of steps to cover. Talen had also suggested sending those without armor on ahead, but he’d barely gotten the first sentence out before Shay and Allera had both vetoed the plan.

“We can outpace it in sprints, but I don’t think it’ll need to rest,” Shay had told them, shortly after they’d crossed the river at the swollen ford. They’d lost time there; the swollen river had barely paused the monster at all.

“It will not stop as long as there are living bodies ahead of it,” Varo had noted, in his usual dark candor.

“We’re going to have to stop and face it,” Talen said, for the third time since their flight had begun. “We may as well have it be when we have at least some strength left to us.”

They were already flagging. The fighters had the strongest constitutions, allowing them to keep up the hurried pace. But even with all excess gear discarded, the weight of their armor was slowing them down. Serah, not used to such extremes of physical activity, had already removed her breastplate, and while she was not complaining, she looked far from rested. Allera, accompanied openly again by Snaggletooth, who had survived the undead siege at Alderford without difficulty, was helping everyone she could, but her healing powers were all but depleted. She gave them each herbs to chew, mild stimulants that helped them keep putting one foot in front of the other.

“I have told you, that we have little chance against the creature,” Varo said.

“Maybe we can draw it off,” Galen said. “Make it chase us off the road, give the refugees more time.”

Talen shook his head. “This terrain is pretty rugged,” he said. “It will slow us greatly, but from what Shay’s said, I don’t think it will inconvenience the creature much. And if it doesn’t follow us, there will be nothing we can do to stop it before it gets to the refugees.”

“Further, you are forgetting the shadows,” Varo pointed out. Several of the undead monsters had attacked since the ford, coming out of the night sky or rising from the ground ahead of them. They had been few in numbers, attacking in small groups, and Varo and Serah had turned or cowed them each time. Talen had used Beatus Incendia to swiftly destroy those held in thrall by Varo. But several of them had been slightly drained of strength, and the harassment was keeping them on edge, preventing them from relaxing their vigilance for even a few seconds. “If we depart from the road, the creatures will be able to come on us from any direction, and we will have a much harder time responding to their attacks swiftly.”

“Varo, if we do have to fight it, what can we do to kill it?” Talen asked.

“I know little of that type of undead creature,” the cleric admitted. “In theory, they can be hacked to pieces like any other corporeal undead, but it will be... difficult. A being of that size will have incredible durability, and the material of its construction will provide further resistance to damage. Blessed weapons may be of some use; I think your blade may be the only thing that can seriously discomfit it, commander.”

“I can enchant a weapon with blessed power,” Serah said, huffing slightly. “But the spell does not last long, a few minutes, at best.”

“Do it for Sextus or Octavius, then, if it comes to that,” Talen said. “Galen’s axe is already magical.” Galen nodded; he’d recovered his heritage weapon when they’d fled from the cottage.

“The decision may be made for us soon,” Shay pointed out. “We’ve got to be outpacing that last caravan of refugees, and we will almost certainly come upon them before too much longer.”

“All right,” Talen said. “Start looking for a place that favors defense.”

“That hill on the left,” Shay said. It was tough to see with their magical torches damaging their night vision, but up ahead the road seemed to curve between two rows of low hills, rising up out of the ground like sets of knuckles. The largest knuckle on the left was topped by a hillock that rose maybe fifty feet above the level of the road, and was covered in big boulders that looked to offer decent cover.

“Oh, crap,” Talen exclaimed. For as they came close enough to see the curve of the road, they saw light sources, which inevitably resolved a minute later into the slow-moving tendril of the refugee column, already jammed into the tight space between the hills.

“Checkmate,” Varo said.

 

[Richard Rawen]

Ouch and double ouch.

If it weren't for bad luck . . .

So, whatever this beast is striding behind them, the time has come. This is where a few Searing Light spells would be most helpful! If a few summoned allies can harass it then maybe Talen can take it's legs out from it. Should prove interesting. Regardless of the thrumming of it's mass behind them I still don't have as much trepidation about something they can see and can hit!

I hate Shadows... and Wraiths... and all those incorpreal critters! Just something totally Wrong about an enemy that can attack you by flowing out of the ground, draining your very strength, and your armor is useless to protect you.

Still, it's a good read, and has me anxious to see who dies next.
(Such foregone conclusions at this point seem pretty reasonable )

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 131

THE GATHERER


The refugees must have seen them by their lights; the priest Nelan and another two men met them at the base of the nearest hill as they rushed forward. The priest must have seen something in Talen’s eyes, for his first words were, “They are coming, captain?”

“Yes. Something big, a few minutes behind, at most. We will take up positions here, on this hill, and cover your retreat. You’ve got to get your people moving, and fast.”

“Our people and animals are all exhausted, commander. I don’t think they can run anymore. Some of us, many of us, we can fight.” The two men flanking him nodded; each carried weapons, a bow and an old Legion spear respectively.

“With all due respect, what’s coming... you and your people won’t have a chance of stopping it.”

“And you will?” the cleric asked, quietly.

“We’re going to give it our damnest. You are just going to have to ask your people to dig a little deeper, priest. I’m sorry to make it so blunt, but if they cannot run, then they’ll die here, and not well.”

“We will do what is needed, then. Good luck to you, commander.”

Talen nodded, already turning to his followers. “Serah, you and Allera should go with them...” he began.

“Like hells,” Allera said, while Serah added, “Sir, you are going to need my magic.”

Talen snapped his hand across in anger. “Look, you’ve already said that your powers are all but depleted, and you can’t be much good to me...” But he left off as Shay touched his arm.

“We’ve all go to do what we can,” the scout said. “What we must. And right now, we’re wasting time we don’t have.”

Talen looked at her, and smiled softly. “All right. Let’s get set up on that hill.”

The eight survivors rushed up the slope, helping each other up the difficult ascent. Rocks dislodged by their passage tumbled down the hill behind them, until they lay forgotten in the road. Around the far edge of the hill, they could see the refugee caravan moving again, its animals and humans like moving numbly, slowly.

But at least they were moving.

“I think I see it,” Sextus said, pointing at the length of road they had just traversed. In the weak light of the night, the moon and stars still obscured by clouds, the landscape was just a dark shadow, but the sound of the creature’s steps could still be heard, drawing their attention to what might have been a darker shadow in the near distance, moving closer.

“Set the torches up on the summit, behind us,” Talen said. “We want it to see us, but don’t want to ruin our night vision.”

There was about a minute of mostly silent preparation, as the companions selected positions, prepared missile weapons, and otherwise readied themselves for what might come out of the darkness.

Talen turned to Varo. “I suppose you have some nasty power in reserve, priest?”

With the light of the torches somewhat removed, Varo looked like a shadow himself in his black cloak. “Unfortunately, my remaining higher-order spells are not of much use in battling the undead.”

“No more summons?”

“I have one of the less powerful variety of those spells remaining,” Varo said. “I will use it to conjure another centipede, which may hinder the creature slightly.”

“Be careful, Varo. Your optimism may be contagious.”

“I view events as they are, commander, not as I might wish them to be.”

“Never mind.” The sound of the approaching foe was getting louder, and Talen peered out into the darkness. Now it was possible for all of them to see the oncoming thing, a massive, lumbering bulk, dark in the night. It was at least forty feet tall, and just vaguely humanoid; it may have been the darkness, but it seemed to lack any clear distinguishing features. The ground shook with each step it took.

“Gods protect us,” someone said.

“Do you have a light spell, Varo?” Talen asked.

“I do. You wish to see your enemy?”

“Yes. Shay... your bow?”

The scout came over with an arrow nocked, offering the missile to Varo. The cleric cast the spell quickly, and as soon as the end of the shaft began to glow, Shay drew and fired. Her composite bow had a decent pull, and the shot flew far out into the night, covering a good three hundred feet before it reached the apogee of its arc, and started down. It covered another three hundred feet before it struck its target, sinking into the shoulder of the creature.

The light revealed it to be a giant, walking hill, a thing of earth and stone. It almost looked like an earth elemental, a creature that several of them had seen before. But its true nature was revealed in the objects that jutted from its body. Gravestones, weathered slabs of granite, even pieces of what had been small burial tombs. Other things, impossible to discern at this distance, except that some of them... moved.

The corpse gatherer was a walking graveyard, and the dead that it bore lived on in undeath.

“Let that thing have it!” Talen yelled, lifting his own bow high, and unleashing a shaft into the air.

Missiles shot out from the entrenched defenders, arcing out from the hilltop across the road. Most of them struck the creature, even at extreme range, but none of them appeared to have any effect. The monster continued toward their position, the ground shaking with each step it took.

As it neared the base of the hill, Varo cast his summoning spell, conjuring a huge monstrous centipede that appeared about fifty feet away. The centipede shot down the hill toward the corpse gatherer, slithering smoothly across the uneven rocks. The defenders continued their barrage of missiles, but while they continued to score hits, there was no evident damage from the impacts.

“It’s like shooting a mountain!” Shay exclaimed in frustration.

“Keep firing, we may be weakening it!” Talen said. But even as he drew another arrow from his quiver, he glanced at Varo, who shook his head.

“It will come down to close quarters,” the cleric said. As they watched, the centipede lunged into the monster, snapping its jaws into a massive thigh. The monster swatted the creature like a human swooshing a fly, and while the centipede was over thirty feet long, it was knocked flying as its “hand” smashed its body. It landed twenty feet away, oozing fluid from its cracked body; the monster had barely broken its stride.

“Look! Around its head!” Serah said, pointing. As the monster continued to approach the hill, the companions could all see what the cleric indicated; orbiting the monster, familiar dark forms flying close around it.

“Damn it, that’s all we need, more shadows,” Talen muttered. He hadn’t meant to be heard, but Varo came up close behind him. “Can you hold them?” he asked the cleric.

“My ability to channel the power of Dagos was spent on the road,” the cleric said. “But even if I could, I doubt it would have any effect. That thing radiates negative energy like a beacon; I can feel it from here. Even Gaius Annochus would be hard pressed to turn those shadows within its radius.”

Serah, huddled a few feet away, shuddered. She’d left her crossbow behind in Alderford, so all she could do was clutch a healing wand and wait.

Varo clapped Talen on the shoulder. “Brandish the holy blade; that will draw them.”

Even as he spoke, the shadows detached themselves from the creature, and drifted up the hill, becoming almost invisible as they left the radius of the otherworldly light that still shone from the arrow stuck in the gatherer’s shoulder.

Behind them, the undead monster reached the base of the hill, and with a ponderous step forward, started up.

 

[Ghostknight]

Brandish the holy blade? Varo really wants to get rid of Talen! I mean really, brandishing the holy blade is like erecting a neon sign with an arrown pointing down flashing "KILL ME!"

 

[jensun]

Oh dear, I think our ragged band of heroes is in for an even tougher time.

I dont have my books here but I *think* the corpse gatherer is from MM2? If my dodgy memory serves it is also pretty damn vicious.

At the very least Varo should survive. I am certain he will have a Word of Recall available somewhere, either memorised or on a scroll.

 

[Lazybones]

Oh dear, I think our ragged band of heroes is in for an even tougher time.

I dont have my books here but I *think* the corpse gatherer is from MM2? If my dodgy memory serves it is also pretty damn vicious.

At the very least Varo should survive. I am certain he will have a Word of Recall available somewhere, either memorised or on a scroll.

Right, it's from the MM2. And it is nasty.

And Varo has two WoRs; one taken off Valus, the other from Gudmund in the second temple of Orcus in Rappan Athuk.

* * * * *

Chapter 132

SHADOW BOXING


Talen stood up from behind the cover of his boulder, brandishing Beatus Incendia high above his head. The holy sword erupted into white flames, driving back the night, and filling the defenders with hope.

The shadows saw it, and flew toward that light, drawn to it like moths to a flame. Or perhaps more accurately, drawn to the pulsing life energy of the man brandishing the weapon.

Talen saw them coming, and drew back into the open space beyond the boulder. The rules of cover worked differently with shadows; the rocks would serve to conceal them until they were right on top of him. They could still come up from the hill below him, but these shadows did not appear to be interested in subtle tactics, they came straight for him.

The corpse gatherer took another step up the hill, but paused as Varo’s centipede attacked again, coiling around its leg, and surging up to stab its mandibles into its torso. The undead monster paused for a moment, reaching down to seize the creature. Tearing the centipede off its body, ignoring the bites it delivered to its hand and forearm, the gatherer lifted the fiendish vermin, and squeezed.

The companions on the hilltop could hear the cracking of the centipede’s body as it was crushed. The gatherer pressed the centipede’s body against its chest, and it started to absorb it into itself before the summoning spell died, and the slain monster dissolved into greasy black smoke.

Frustrated in its primal urge to add more bodies to its mass, the gatherer at once started forward again, toward the life forms clustered around the top of the hill.

Talen held his ground, waiting until the last possible moment as the shadows dove toward him, faint points of red flickering where their eyes would have been, had they been mortal beings. The pure light of the sword cast them in stark relief against the surrounding night, and that allowed him to time his stroke perfectly. The holy sword clove through the shadow, flaring with energy as it passed through the undead creature.

The blow had absolutely no effect.

Talen threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the shadow’s attack, and nearly losing his footing on the uneven stones of the hilltop. But there were other shadows swarming at him, and he could not avoid them all. He felt a cold touch pierce him as one touched him, draining strength from his body. Several others swept around to take him from the flanks.

And there seemed to be nothing he could do to stop them.

But Talen was not alone, and his companions hastened to his aid. Varo stepped out from behind a nearby rock, and stabbed a wand into one of the shadows attacking Talen. The blue flash of a cure moderate wounds spell erupted from the device, and the shadow let out a hollow scream as tendrils of positive energy ripped through it. But the shadow, bolstered by the presence of the gatherer, remained intact, and it turned on Varo with a fury.

On the opposite flank, Shay and Serah attacked another of the shadows trying to flank Talen. The scout’s magical sword passed through one of the shadows without harming it, but Serah copied Varo, poking it with a wand and casting a healing spell at it. The wand was only a minor one, and the cure light wounds spell did not harm the shadow greatly, but it did get its attention. The creature dove at Serah, who screamed as it tore strength from her body. The cleric fell back upon the rocks, while Shay tried in vain to help her.

Talen was still facing a pair of shadows, and as they came at him again, he lifted Beatus Incendia and roared out a challenge. The sword pulsed with potency, and this time his strokes met resistance as the weapon tore through the substance of the undead monsters. Even bolstered by the gatherer, the shadows could not absorb the power of the dragon knight, and both shadows came apart, hissing as they dissolved into nothingness.

Varo held his ground calmly even as the shadow touched him, taking his strength. His expression did not change as he stabbed it again with his wand, destroying it with a second pulse of positive energy.

Serah was clearly weakening, but she managed to lift her wand again, hitting the shadow with another cure light wounds. The shadow continued to feed on her. Shay, standing over the cleric and her enemy, yelled in frustration as her sword continued to pass harmlessly through it. Finally she took the weapon in both hands, and thrust it through the shadow’s head. The elven steel flared as it bisected the red points of the creature’s eyes, and finally the sword cut into it. Already damaged by Serah’s healing, the shadow expired.

Talen spun, holding Beatus Incendia above his head, scanning for any more of the undead. There were no more shadows, but as the ground shook beneath his feet, he looked up to see the massive figure of the corpse gatherer looming above him, close enough now for him to see the animated bodies that jutted from its hideous mass, and to even to see the faded writing on some of the gravestones that were impaled within its substance.

Then there was no more time; as the creature attacked.

 

[Ghostknight]

And now a weakened Talen must face the corpse gatherer. Did he really think that standing there with a holy sword wasn't going to make him priority number one- and a target for every shadow's strength drain? Ah well, the perils of being a heroic knight!

 

[CrusadeDave]

Uhhhhhh....

Right, it's from the MM2. And it is nasty.

Isn't it a CR 19? Maybe if they had 16 Talen's it would be a fair fight......

Yikes.