The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
aus_autarch
First Post
ZOMGbies?
OK, those are some tough zombies!
Lazybones, you might have the name, but I deserved the descriptor, until your great story telling finally gave me enough reason to break my cover. This is a fantastic reinvention of the Rappan Athuk blender/grinder. You give the characters life (and occasionally, but not recently, death!) and the tale you weave is the written equivalent of hypercocaine. Keep it up!
As a gamer and sometime DM, I would love to see you update some crunch to go with the fluff. What are the current stats of the Doomed Bastards? Perhaps you could give some game information about challenges that they overcome? For example, it would be most interesting to know the mechanics you used for this zombie mob...
Finally, it's not only the doomed bastards who can zombie hack&slash - all the fans of the Doomed Bastards can:
Deanimator
OK, those are some tough zombies!
Lazybones, you might have the name, but I deserved the descriptor, until your great story telling finally gave me enough reason to break my cover. This is a fantastic reinvention of the Rappan Athuk blender/grinder. You give the characters life (and occasionally, but not recently, death!) and the tale you weave is the written equivalent of hypercocaine. Keep it up!
As a gamer and sometime DM, I would love to see you update some crunch to go with the fluff. What are the current stats of the Doomed Bastards? Perhaps you could give some game information about challenges that they overcome? For example, it would be most interesting to know the mechanics you used for this zombie mob...
Finally, it's not only the doomed bastards who can zombie hack&slash - all the fans of the Doomed Bastards can:
Deanimator
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for delurking to comment, aus_autarch!
I've updated the stats for the core characters in the Rogues' Gallery thread (see my sig for the link).
RE the enhanced undead: per the module, any undead with 50 yards of the source of the evil aura (which we'll get to tomorrow) gets its hit dice tripled, a +12 against turning attempts, +4 to AC, and +6 to attack, damage, and saves. Basically it's a mobile desecrate spell on steroids.
Today's theme is "just when you thought it couldn't get any worse..." Basically, the motto of the Doomed Bastards.
* * * * *
Chapter 186
THE TRUE METTLE
Dar was surrounded. Talen was down. Shay and Kalend had been driven up against the tunnel walls, under heavy attack.
And behind the front ranks of foes, dozens and dozens of zombies continued to push forward.
Dar refused to go down, even with four zombies grappling him, and at least a half-dozen others trying to push around their companions to get to him. But even with his incredible strength, he could not work enough leverage to pull free. A zombie, knocked over in the struggle, was trying to get hold of his ankles.
Varo stepped forward, and touched one of the zombies holding onto Dar on the shoulder. Blue light flared, and rotten flesh melted away from his touch as the cure serious wounds spell coursed through it. With his hide from undead dispelled by his attack, the zombie turned away from Dar and lunged at Varo, delivering a powerful blow that clipped him hard on the shoulder. Varo did not retreat, and met the zombie’s surge with a pair of clumsy but powerful slashes from his magical dagger. The odd mithral blade sliced through the zombie as though its flesh were parchment, and it crumpled.
Varo started forward to attack another of Dar’s foes, but the fighter had taken advantage of the help to finally tear free. Staggering back, avoiding the swipes from the zombie on the ground, he unleashed a full attack into the monsters following him. There were few creatures, living or dead, that could withstand blows from Valor when the fighter wielded the weapon with both hands and his full strength behind the blows. The first zombie was hurled aside with a missing leg and an arm dangling by a few tenuous strips of sinew. Dar followed through on the second blow, taking off the next zombie’s leg at the knee, toppling it over into a third. The crippled zombie fell onto the ground but kept coming, using its arms to flop forward, even as its companions trod heavily upon its back.
“Thanks,” the fighter muttered to Varo, as the two fell back into place in the defensive line.
Talen had likewise been in a very difficult position, although his armor kept him from being torn apart in those first few seconds after he’d fallen. He slipped his arm out of the straps of his shield, and tried with both hands to free his sword from the chest of the zombie that had pulled it away. The zombie holding his shield fell back clumsily, but almost at once another was there, pounding his side with both fists. Another got ahold of his helmet, and with the broken chin strap it was able to yank it off his head, gashing his cheek in the process. Talen could not see, but he could imagine the hands coming down toward his exposed head, ready to tear his flesh from the skull...
A woman’s cry drew the knight’s attention up, through the press of hands and the chorus of moans that enveloped him. Allera and Serah charged forward to Talen’s aid, and they brought the holy magic of their calling with them. Each seized one of the zombies atop Talen, and while their pushes were not strong, positive energy flowed at the contact, and zombie flesh boiled away. The zombies tried to turn to face these new threats, but lying half-upon Talen they lacked leverage, and only managed to roll off the embattled knight.
Several zombies rushed forward to engage the two women, but were distracted as Snaggletooth became visible and darted low overhead, lashing out at a few of them with his hind claws as he passed. The zombies reached up at the faerie dragon as he passed, but he ducked and weaved and avoided their clumsy grabs.
“Get up, Talen!” Allera yelled, grabbing Talen’s arm and helping him to his feet. Two zombies continued to tug on his armor, but with a grunt of effort he tore free. Beatus Incendia burned bright in his hand, and as he stood he was finally able to rip it free from the fallen zombie’s chest.
Serah yelled in alarm as a zombie grabbed onto her from behind, locking an arm around her neck. Talen, guided by her cry and the rough moan coming from the zombie, thrust his sword up through its head, impaling a foot of steel through the middle of its skull.
“For Camar!” Talen yelled, taking the hilt of the sword in both hands, and swinging the blade, with the zombie still stuck on it, across the charging rush. The zombie he’d stuck crashed into another two, sending all three to the ground. The first zombie’s head came apart as it fell, freeing the knight’s sword. Another zombie came at his flank before he could recover, but Allera stabbed it with her wand of healing, holding the device like a dagger. A big chunk of the zombie’s torso came apart. It turned and struck Allera hard across the chest, knocking her back, but before it could follow up Talen smashed his sword across its back, driving it to the ground.
Shay found herself back against the wall, with nowhere to go. The zombie reached up toward her face, so she fell into a crouch. The zombie crashed into the wall, but quickly recovered, and bent to grab the scout. Shay sidestepped, but quickly realized that all routes led only into more zombies, as another pair tried to cram into the niche. She deflected a grab at her arm, and leapt straight up, spreading her legs wide at the apogee of her leap to catch on the walls of the alcove. Hanging there, precariously balanced a few inches above the reach of the zombies, she started hewing with her sword.
Kalend had turned from the painful critical hit that had crushed his jaw to see another undead fist coming down to finish the job. The thief resolutely lifted his sword to try and take the foe down with him, but before the zombie’s punch could land, the creature staggered to the side and fell, right into the path of Kalend’s other opponent. The second zombie diverted around its fallen ally, but the distraction gave him a chance to get in a few strokes of his sword. His weapon had once belonged to a legion commander, and bore an edge that never grew dull. The story of its passage into his hands was a long one, but it sufficed that it cut deep into the zombie’s body.
His foe staggered as something cut into it from the side. The goblin Filcher appeared, dodging both the grab of the one he’d tripped, and the attack of this second foe, as he fell back to take up position beside Kalend.
“I thought you’d gotten out of here,” Kalend said—or tried to; his broken jaw made the sounds jumbled and indistinct.
The goblin seemed to understand the gist of what he’d tried to say, however. “I do not swim very well,” he said, lifting his own small sword as the pair of them met the zombie’s rush. A head flew past and bounced off the wall near them, rolling to a stop at their feet; Dar was still hewing away not three paces distant.
The zombies just kept on coming, as fast as the companions could kill them. But somehow, despite the constant push, the line held. The companions were driven back, slowly, step by step, toward the river at their backs, leaving a mound of corpses in their wake. Talen and Dar, anchoring the line at its center, formed a blur of steel around them, into which zombies were fed like vegetables to a chef’s dicer. The heaps of destroyed corpses were making footing difficult, and zombies were falling to the ground as often as they were able to unleash attacks. Shay was caught behind the zombie lines by the retreat, but she was able to kick off the wall and land next to Allera, spinning and returning to the line just in time to deflect a zombie coming at Talen’s flank. Allera and Serah worked up and down the line, using their wands to alternately heal their companions and damage zombies, as the case demanded. Even Snaggletooth got into the fray, flying low over the front ranks of the zombie horde, distracting them, occasionally dropping small sharp stones onto their heads accompanied by little chirruped taunts.
They fell back, leaving a wreckage of bodies in their wake. The zombies paid no heed to their losses; this was an enemy that would not cease its attack short of utter annihilation of either themselves or the foe. Those that stumbled over the bodies of their allies either pulled themselves awkwardly back to their feet or simply crawled forward on their hands and knees, trampled by their fellows in the chaotic rush to get to the living beings ahead.
They were all showing signs of fatigue, especially the two fighters that formed the lynchpin of their line. The zombies did not get tired, and their rush was just as ferocious as it had been in the initial surge. Somehow Dar and Talen kept their stances intact, sweeping their deadly blades around with mechanical precision into the ranks of the foe. Shay kept her position at Talen’s left, directing him with subtle cues, staying back enough so as not to step into the reach of his blind swings. She was not idle; zombies continued to press forward along the wall, and she was forced to put her own blade to work keeping the foe from turning their flank.
On the opposite side of the line, Kalend and Filcher kept up their defense, the goblin tripping foes while Kalend hacked at them with his sword. Serah had come to their end of the battle long enough to heal the rogue with her wand, and poke a zombie that had tried to grapple Filcher. The goblin was like quicksilver, slivering out of the grasps of the undead before they could get a solid purchase on him.
They continued to give ground, reforming their defense with every step back, leaving dead zombies in their wake. But then the river was behind them, and there was nowhere left to retreat. As if somehow capable of sensing that the tide was about to turn, the zombies surged forward, putting added pressure on the defenders.
“Tell me you got another trick up your sleeve, priest!” Dar yelled over his shoulder at Varo, as he cut through a zombie’s skull with a two-handed swing from Valor. The cleric, standing a few steps back along the edge of the river, did not respond. Dar could not spare him any more attention, as four zombies pressed forward in a tangled mass, threatening to overbear him with sheer weight, and drive him back into the fast-moving water.
And that’s when the flame strike hit.
Their only warning was a soft roar, barely audible over the noise of the river, that immediately exploded into a coruscating column of eager yellow fire. The spiraling flames surged down from the tunnel ceiling above them, crashing into the center of their line, enveloping the two fighters. Dar and Talen both screamed as the fire blazed through their armor and mercilessly scored their flesh. The flames did not discriminate friend from foe, and likewise the front ranks of the zombie horde were swept, the holy fire searing the rotting flesh from their bones. But the zombies could afford the losses, and even as a half-dozen crumpled in mangled black heaps, more were staggering forward over the corpses, showing burns that would have left a living foe screaming on the ground in pain.
The flames washed out from the point of impact of the strike. Allera covered her face with her arms, the white flesh crinkling and turning black as the blast washed over her. Serah, standing next to Varo, was just a heartbeat slower, and took the force of the spell full in her face. The cleric was knocked over onto her back, her hips bisecting the line between the river and the tunnel, her upper body quickly sinking into the torrent. Varo, less than a pace away from the priestess, did not seem to be affected at all, the flames rushing around him as though he was not even there.
Though the exploding flames filled the breadth of the tunnel, those on the flanks were able to avoid the worst of the spell. Kalend and Filcher were able to step behind the bodies of the zombies they were fighting, letting the undead absorb the force of the blast. On the other side of the battle line Shay just got lucky, as a zombie had leapt onto her seconds before the blast, serving as an impromptu shield for the scout. Both were driven against the adjacent wall, but as the flames died she elbowed the now-limp creature off her, its entire backside a sickening mass of roasted flesh.
Dar glanced back, ignoring the stabbing pains that seemed to pierce through every inch of his upper body. Stinging tears filled his eyes as he tried to blink away the smoke and confusion, but he could still see Serah slipping away into the river, and Varo standing there motionless beside her.
“Help the priestess!” he yelled at the cleric. When Varo did not respond, he took a step toward her himself, but was forced to stop as the next wave of zombies fell upon him. Growling a curse, he reached out to grab Varo and thrust him toward the unconscious woman.
To his surprise, his hand went right through the cleric. It was an illusion; Varo was not there.
"Freaking bastard!” Dar exclaimed. Off balance, he could not recover in time as the four zombies lurched into him from behind, knocking him over. The lot of them passed right through the mocking figment of the cleric, falling with a loud splash into the river.
I've updated the stats for the core characters in the Rogues' Gallery thread (see my sig for the link).
RE the enhanced undead: per the module, any undead with 50 yards of the source of the evil aura (which we'll get to tomorrow) gets its hit dice tripled, a +12 against turning attempts, +4 to AC, and +6 to attack, damage, and saves. Basically it's a mobile desecrate spell on steroids.
Today's theme is "just when you thought it couldn't get any worse..." Basically, the motto of the Doomed Bastards.
* * * * *
Chapter 186
THE TRUE METTLE
Dar was surrounded. Talen was down. Shay and Kalend had been driven up against the tunnel walls, under heavy attack.
And behind the front ranks of foes, dozens and dozens of zombies continued to push forward.
Dar refused to go down, even with four zombies grappling him, and at least a half-dozen others trying to push around their companions to get to him. But even with his incredible strength, he could not work enough leverage to pull free. A zombie, knocked over in the struggle, was trying to get hold of his ankles.
Varo stepped forward, and touched one of the zombies holding onto Dar on the shoulder. Blue light flared, and rotten flesh melted away from his touch as the cure serious wounds spell coursed through it. With his hide from undead dispelled by his attack, the zombie turned away from Dar and lunged at Varo, delivering a powerful blow that clipped him hard on the shoulder. Varo did not retreat, and met the zombie’s surge with a pair of clumsy but powerful slashes from his magical dagger. The odd mithral blade sliced through the zombie as though its flesh were parchment, and it crumpled.
Varo started forward to attack another of Dar’s foes, but the fighter had taken advantage of the help to finally tear free. Staggering back, avoiding the swipes from the zombie on the ground, he unleashed a full attack into the monsters following him. There were few creatures, living or dead, that could withstand blows from Valor when the fighter wielded the weapon with both hands and his full strength behind the blows. The first zombie was hurled aside with a missing leg and an arm dangling by a few tenuous strips of sinew. Dar followed through on the second blow, taking off the next zombie’s leg at the knee, toppling it over into a third. The crippled zombie fell onto the ground but kept coming, using its arms to flop forward, even as its companions trod heavily upon its back.
“Thanks,” the fighter muttered to Varo, as the two fell back into place in the defensive line.
Talen had likewise been in a very difficult position, although his armor kept him from being torn apart in those first few seconds after he’d fallen. He slipped his arm out of the straps of his shield, and tried with both hands to free his sword from the chest of the zombie that had pulled it away. The zombie holding his shield fell back clumsily, but almost at once another was there, pounding his side with both fists. Another got ahold of his helmet, and with the broken chin strap it was able to yank it off his head, gashing his cheek in the process. Talen could not see, but he could imagine the hands coming down toward his exposed head, ready to tear his flesh from the skull...
A woman’s cry drew the knight’s attention up, through the press of hands and the chorus of moans that enveloped him. Allera and Serah charged forward to Talen’s aid, and they brought the holy magic of their calling with them. Each seized one of the zombies atop Talen, and while their pushes were not strong, positive energy flowed at the contact, and zombie flesh boiled away. The zombies tried to turn to face these new threats, but lying half-upon Talen they lacked leverage, and only managed to roll off the embattled knight.
Several zombies rushed forward to engage the two women, but were distracted as Snaggletooth became visible and darted low overhead, lashing out at a few of them with his hind claws as he passed. The zombies reached up at the faerie dragon as he passed, but he ducked and weaved and avoided their clumsy grabs.
“Get up, Talen!” Allera yelled, grabbing Talen’s arm and helping him to his feet. Two zombies continued to tug on his armor, but with a grunt of effort he tore free. Beatus Incendia burned bright in his hand, and as he stood he was finally able to rip it free from the fallen zombie’s chest.
Serah yelled in alarm as a zombie grabbed onto her from behind, locking an arm around her neck. Talen, guided by her cry and the rough moan coming from the zombie, thrust his sword up through its head, impaling a foot of steel through the middle of its skull.
“For Camar!” Talen yelled, taking the hilt of the sword in both hands, and swinging the blade, with the zombie still stuck on it, across the charging rush. The zombie he’d stuck crashed into another two, sending all three to the ground. The first zombie’s head came apart as it fell, freeing the knight’s sword. Another zombie came at his flank before he could recover, but Allera stabbed it with her wand of healing, holding the device like a dagger. A big chunk of the zombie’s torso came apart. It turned and struck Allera hard across the chest, knocking her back, but before it could follow up Talen smashed his sword across its back, driving it to the ground.
Shay found herself back against the wall, with nowhere to go. The zombie reached up toward her face, so she fell into a crouch. The zombie crashed into the wall, but quickly recovered, and bent to grab the scout. Shay sidestepped, but quickly realized that all routes led only into more zombies, as another pair tried to cram into the niche. She deflected a grab at her arm, and leapt straight up, spreading her legs wide at the apogee of her leap to catch on the walls of the alcove. Hanging there, precariously balanced a few inches above the reach of the zombies, she started hewing with her sword.
Kalend had turned from the painful critical hit that had crushed his jaw to see another undead fist coming down to finish the job. The thief resolutely lifted his sword to try and take the foe down with him, but before the zombie’s punch could land, the creature staggered to the side and fell, right into the path of Kalend’s other opponent. The second zombie diverted around its fallen ally, but the distraction gave him a chance to get in a few strokes of his sword. His weapon had once belonged to a legion commander, and bore an edge that never grew dull. The story of its passage into his hands was a long one, but it sufficed that it cut deep into the zombie’s body.
His foe staggered as something cut into it from the side. The goblin Filcher appeared, dodging both the grab of the one he’d tripped, and the attack of this second foe, as he fell back to take up position beside Kalend.
“I thought you’d gotten out of here,” Kalend said—or tried to; his broken jaw made the sounds jumbled and indistinct.
The goblin seemed to understand the gist of what he’d tried to say, however. “I do not swim very well,” he said, lifting his own small sword as the pair of them met the zombie’s rush. A head flew past and bounced off the wall near them, rolling to a stop at their feet; Dar was still hewing away not three paces distant.
The zombies just kept on coming, as fast as the companions could kill them. But somehow, despite the constant push, the line held. The companions were driven back, slowly, step by step, toward the river at their backs, leaving a mound of corpses in their wake. Talen and Dar, anchoring the line at its center, formed a blur of steel around them, into which zombies were fed like vegetables to a chef’s dicer. The heaps of destroyed corpses were making footing difficult, and zombies were falling to the ground as often as they were able to unleash attacks. Shay was caught behind the zombie lines by the retreat, but she was able to kick off the wall and land next to Allera, spinning and returning to the line just in time to deflect a zombie coming at Talen’s flank. Allera and Serah worked up and down the line, using their wands to alternately heal their companions and damage zombies, as the case demanded. Even Snaggletooth got into the fray, flying low over the front ranks of the zombie horde, distracting them, occasionally dropping small sharp stones onto their heads accompanied by little chirruped taunts.
They fell back, leaving a wreckage of bodies in their wake. The zombies paid no heed to their losses; this was an enemy that would not cease its attack short of utter annihilation of either themselves or the foe. Those that stumbled over the bodies of their allies either pulled themselves awkwardly back to their feet or simply crawled forward on their hands and knees, trampled by their fellows in the chaotic rush to get to the living beings ahead.
They were all showing signs of fatigue, especially the two fighters that formed the lynchpin of their line. The zombies did not get tired, and their rush was just as ferocious as it had been in the initial surge. Somehow Dar and Talen kept their stances intact, sweeping their deadly blades around with mechanical precision into the ranks of the foe. Shay kept her position at Talen’s left, directing him with subtle cues, staying back enough so as not to step into the reach of his blind swings. She was not idle; zombies continued to press forward along the wall, and she was forced to put her own blade to work keeping the foe from turning their flank.
On the opposite side of the line, Kalend and Filcher kept up their defense, the goblin tripping foes while Kalend hacked at them with his sword. Serah had come to their end of the battle long enough to heal the rogue with her wand, and poke a zombie that had tried to grapple Filcher. The goblin was like quicksilver, slivering out of the grasps of the undead before they could get a solid purchase on him.
They continued to give ground, reforming their defense with every step back, leaving dead zombies in their wake. But then the river was behind them, and there was nowhere left to retreat. As if somehow capable of sensing that the tide was about to turn, the zombies surged forward, putting added pressure on the defenders.
“Tell me you got another trick up your sleeve, priest!” Dar yelled over his shoulder at Varo, as he cut through a zombie’s skull with a two-handed swing from Valor. The cleric, standing a few steps back along the edge of the river, did not respond. Dar could not spare him any more attention, as four zombies pressed forward in a tangled mass, threatening to overbear him with sheer weight, and drive him back into the fast-moving water.
And that’s when the flame strike hit.
Their only warning was a soft roar, barely audible over the noise of the river, that immediately exploded into a coruscating column of eager yellow fire. The spiraling flames surged down from the tunnel ceiling above them, crashing into the center of their line, enveloping the two fighters. Dar and Talen both screamed as the fire blazed through their armor and mercilessly scored their flesh. The flames did not discriminate friend from foe, and likewise the front ranks of the zombie horde were swept, the holy fire searing the rotting flesh from their bones. But the zombies could afford the losses, and even as a half-dozen crumpled in mangled black heaps, more were staggering forward over the corpses, showing burns that would have left a living foe screaming on the ground in pain.
The flames washed out from the point of impact of the strike. Allera covered her face with her arms, the white flesh crinkling and turning black as the blast washed over her. Serah, standing next to Varo, was just a heartbeat slower, and took the force of the spell full in her face. The cleric was knocked over onto her back, her hips bisecting the line between the river and the tunnel, her upper body quickly sinking into the torrent. Varo, less than a pace away from the priestess, did not seem to be affected at all, the flames rushing around him as though he was not even there.
Though the exploding flames filled the breadth of the tunnel, those on the flanks were able to avoid the worst of the spell. Kalend and Filcher were able to step behind the bodies of the zombies they were fighting, letting the undead absorb the force of the blast. On the other side of the battle line Shay just got lucky, as a zombie had leapt onto her seconds before the blast, serving as an impromptu shield for the scout. Both were driven against the adjacent wall, but as the flames died she elbowed the now-limp creature off her, its entire backside a sickening mass of roasted flesh.
Dar glanced back, ignoring the stabbing pains that seemed to pierce through every inch of his upper body. Stinging tears filled his eyes as he tried to blink away the smoke and confusion, but he could still see Serah slipping away into the river, and Varo standing there motionless beside her.
“Help the priestess!” he yelled at the cleric. When Varo did not respond, he took a step toward her himself, but was forced to stop as the next wave of zombies fell upon him. Growling a curse, he reached out to grab Varo and thrust him toward the unconscious woman.
To his surprise, his hand went right through the cleric. It was an illusion; Varo was not there.
"Freaking bastard!” Dar exclaimed. Off balance, he could not recover in time as the four zombies lurched into him from behind, knocking him over. The lot of them passed right through the mocking figment of the cleric, falling with a loud splash into the river.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 187
THE IDOL
Varo moved through the press of undead. Moving covertly along the right wall of the tunnel, shielded by his mislead spell, he moved cautiously but quickly forward.
The way that the undead were packed in the tunnel, it was almost impossible to make it through their ranks without being detected. He’d already bumped into several creatures, and despite his efforts at silence, his armor and other gear clanked softly at his movements. Thus far he’d been fortunate, and none of them had been able to get a hold of the living thing they could sense but not see, but his luck could not last long, he knew. Already his left arm smarted where a zombie had delivered a wild but powerful blow in response to being jostled by the passing cleric.
The moans of the dead were drowned out, to a degree, by the wild chaos of the melee still just a short distance behind him. Varo pressed forward, noting that the ranks of the undead were starting to thin out ahead. Objectively he’d known that they could not be endless, but he’d started to wonder at that, as they had continued to press row upon row against his companions.
He had not been caught completely off guard by the potency of the undead legion. That morning, when they’d prepared to enter Grezneck, he’d cast a divination spell, seeking the guidance of Dagos. That casting had cost him one of his summons, but it had given him information—couched in cryptic hints, as always—that might be their only chance to escape this encounter alive.
The flame strike caught him off guard for a second, almost long enough to undo him as a pair of zombies, sensing his presence, grabbed at him with outstretched arms. He only narrowly dodged between them. The spell had flooded the tunnel with light for an instant, and he’d seen... there! A glint of metal, within the mass of undead.
Logic had said he would find the goblin priest here, even before the deadly spell had been unleashed. Varo had realized earlier that the effect that was enhancing the undead was mobile, likely something borne by the cleric of Orcus. Guided by his divination, he’d prepared to deal with it... but the flame strike also revealed that this foe was powerful, possibly even more powerful than he.
And, of course, Varo didn’t have a hundred enhanced undead on his side, either.
But the hesitation of the priest of Dagos lasted less than a heartbeat; Varo had already committed himself fully to this course, and he was not about to falter in the face of mere death. The cleric reached into his pouch and tossed something out into the tunnel, clattering off undead as it skipped noisily down the floor. It was a silver coin, covered with a light spell that blazed out in a glory of bright illumination.
The light revealed what Varo had been looking for, if not precisely what he’d expected. The glint he’d seen before came not off the cleric’s armor, but off a golden idol, instantly recognizable as the image of the demon god. The thing was almost five feet tall, carried by a pair of zombies that bent heavily with the weight of it. Varo could almost see the waves of power that radiated off from it, and he was so distracted by it that he almost didn’t spot the cleric.
Tribitz was off to the side, a small shadow beside the much larger undead. The goblin was clad in heavy armor of blackened plate, and Varo did not need a detect magic to recognize the layered wards it wore about itself like a thick cloak. The undead barely responded to his light, but the goblin had instantly recognized that an invisible enemy was nearby, and it began spellcasting.
Varo knew he had to act quickly. Summoning his own magic, he cast one of his few remaining higher-order spells, focusing the power of Dagos upon the golden idol. His spell was powerful, and the will of his god flowed through him in response to his call, but the power surrounding the idol was the like the blaze of a black sun, furious and invincible. Almost instantly Varo realized that he could not overcome it through brute force, and he began to feel the potency of his greater dispel falter against it.
He made a change born of instinct, and sharpened the power of the spell into a wedge, using his own will as the hammer to drive it not into the power of the idol itself, but into the invisible tendril that fueled it, drawing deep from another, exterior source. That power was like a black slick of pure corruption, and he felt something cold twist in his gut as he touched it, even through the artificial connection of the spell.
A flood of negative energy exploded through the tunnel. Varo felt a cold pressure against his soul, and he staggered forward. For an instant, he thought he would lose consciousness.
But then his mind cleared. Looking up, Varo saw that he was surrounded by zombies. He was visible again; either the backlash from his casting had negated the improved invisibility granted by the mislead spell, or the goblin cleric had defeated the magic. He reached for his dagger.
Before he could touch the hilt of the weapon, the undead fell upon him, overcoming him, driving him to the ground.
THE IDOL
Varo moved through the press of undead. Moving covertly along the right wall of the tunnel, shielded by his mislead spell, he moved cautiously but quickly forward.
The way that the undead were packed in the tunnel, it was almost impossible to make it through their ranks without being detected. He’d already bumped into several creatures, and despite his efforts at silence, his armor and other gear clanked softly at his movements. Thus far he’d been fortunate, and none of them had been able to get a hold of the living thing they could sense but not see, but his luck could not last long, he knew. Already his left arm smarted where a zombie had delivered a wild but powerful blow in response to being jostled by the passing cleric.
The moans of the dead were drowned out, to a degree, by the wild chaos of the melee still just a short distance behind him. Varo pressed forward, noting that the ranks of the undead were starting to thin out ahead. Objectively he’d known that they could not be endless, but he’d started to wonder at that, as they had continued to press row upon row against his companions.
He had not been caught completely off guard by the potency of the undead legion. That morning, when they’d prepared to enter Grezneck, he’d cast a divination spell, seeking the guidance of Dagos. That casting had cost him one of his summons, but it had given him information—couched in cryptic hints, as always—that might be their only chance to escape this encounter alive.
The flame strike caught him off guard for a second, almost long enough to undo him as a pair of zombies, sensing his presence, grabbed at him with outstretched arms. He only narrowly dodged between them. The spell had flooded the tunnel with light for an instant, and he’d seen... there! A glint of metal, within the mass of undead.
Logic had said he would find the goblin priest here, even before the deadly spell had been unleashed. Varo had realized earlier that the effect that was enhancing the undead was mobile, likely something borne by the cleric of Orcus. Guided by his divination, he’d prepared to deal with it... but the flame strike also revealed that this foe was powerful, possibly even more powerful than he.
And, of course, Varo didn’t have a hundred enhanced undead on his side, either.
But the hesitation of the priest of Dagos lasted less than a heartbeat; Varo had already committed himself fully to this course, and he was not about to falter in the face of mere death. The cleric reached into his pouch and tossed something out into the tunnel, clattering off undead as it skipped noisily down the floor. It was a silver coin, covered with a light spell that blazed out in a glory of bright illumination.
The light revealed what Varo had been looking for, if not precisely what he’d expected. The glint he’d seen before came not off the cleric’s armor, but off a golden idol, instantly recognizable as the image of the demon god. The thing was almost five feet tall, carried by a pair of zombies that bent heavily with the weight of it. Varo could almost see the waves of power that radiated off from it, and he was so distracted by it that he almost didn’t spot the cleric.
Tribitz was off to the side, a small shadow beside the much larger undead. The goblin was clad in heavy armor of blackened plate, and Varo did not need a detect magic to recognize the layered wards it wore about itself like a thick cloak. The undead barely responded to his light, but the goblin had instantly recognized that an invisible enemy was nearby, and it began spellcasting.
Varo knew he had to act quickly. Summoning his own magic, he cast one of his few remaining higher-order spells, focusing the power of Dagos upon the golden idol. His spell was powerful, and the will of his god flowed through him in response to his call, but the power surrounding the idol was the like the blaze of a black sun, furious and invincible. Almost instantly Varo realized that he could not overcome it through brute force, and he began to feel the potency of his greater dispel falter against it.
He made a change born of instinct, and sharpened the power of the spell into a wedge, using his own will as the hammer to drive it not into the power of the idol itself, but into the invisible tendril that fueled it, drawing deep from another, exterior source. That power was like a black slick of pure corruption, and he felt something cold twist in his gut as he touched it, even through the artificial connection of the spell.
A flood of negative energy exploded through the tunnel. Varo felt a cold pressure against his soul, and he staggered forward. For an instant, he thought he would lose consciousness.
But then his mind cleared. Looking up, Varo saw that he was surrounded by zombies. He was visible again; either the backlash from his casting had negated the improved invisibility granted by the mislead spell, or the goblin cleric had defeated the magic. He reached for his dagger.
Before he could touch the hilt of the weapon, the undead fell upon him, overcoming him, driving him to the ground.
Richard Rawen
First Post
Just checking in LB, loving the mislead, heh, left the group pretty confused as well! I liked the description of the power fueling the idol and Varo's impressions of it.
Right?
And the heroes will mow through them like wheat... and Dar... well he'll be fine. He'll cling to the ledge or escape the flow of the river somehow...
Right?
That priest will be a real challenge though, he'll probably get away after making things really rough on the DB's - likely killing one . . .
Hopefully I'm wrong
But they're just zombies now.Lazybones said:
Right?
And the heroes will mow through them like wheat... and Dar... well he'll be fine. He'll cling to the ledge or escape the flow of the river somehow...
Right?
That priest will be a real challenge though, he'll probably get away after making things really rough on the DB's - likely killing one . . .
Hopefully I'm wrong
Lazybones
Adventurer
I'm heading out of town very, very early (i.e. pre-dawn) tomorrow to do a training 100 miles away. I won't be back until Saturday, but I have a good cliffhanger coming up in chapter 189 (at least I think so) so I may post it either tomorrow morning or when I get back, depending on how much time I have.
Thanks for reading, everyone! 36 thousand views and counting...
LB
* * * * *
Chapter 188
THE BONEYARD
Body parts were everywhere. Bones, thousands of bones, many shattered into pieces as small as a thumbnail. Littered among that debris were more substantial hunks of flesh. Small gibbets of foul-smelling gore were everywhere, and among those were dozens of arms, legs, heads, and other part of what had once been living, breathing things.
The detritus of waste covered the corridor floor like a thick carpet for a good forty feet. At several places, the remains formed low mounds, some almost waist high, hills and mountains in a landscape of destruction.
The smell was ferocious.
A bright ring of light shone around the companions, clustered close up against the river, where a purifying breeze flowed over the water. They had made a small space for themselves by the simple expedient of pushing back the corpses of destroyed zombies, or rolling them into the river. The exhausted survivors of the desperate battle doused themselves in the cold water, washing off not only sweat and blood, but the sick feeling of death that covered them like a film.
Blue flares rallied with the light of their continual flames. Varo, Allera, and Serah each exhausted one of their healing wands, but none of them stinted on the magic despite their dwinding supply. They reveled in feeling alive, but all of them knew that their respite was temporary.
“Damn, that was...” Dar said. He trailed off, unable to find a word that accurately described the battle.
It had ended fairly quickly, once Varo had destroyed the idol that had so bolstered the undead horde. With the fading of that dread power the undead became mere “common” skeletons and zombies. Dar had torn free from the four trying to drag him into the river, and he truly had become an instrument of destruction, laying a zombie down with every cut of Valor. Allera had caught hold of Serah before the current could drag her fully into the river, and had brought her back to consciousness in time to unleash several pulses of positive energy that had blasted rank after rank of zombies into dust. It had been a very, very close call; another few seconds might have pushed them beyond even their considerable mortal strength.
Varo had been caught apart from the others, and dragged down under a wave of zombies. His armor had protected him long enough to call upon his own power, bending those closest zombies to his will. His destroyers became a shield that had kept him safe long enough for Dar and Talen to fight their way to him. The goblin high priest had not remained for that, fleeing back up the tunnel shortly after the destruction of the idol.
“How many do you think we destroyed?” Kalend asked, nodding in thanks as Serah used a healing wand to finish treating his injuries.
Shay, sitting at the water’s edge, glanced down the tunnel. “I would say about a hundred zombies, maybe two thirds as many skeletons. Just a guess, really; I don’t think you’ll have much luck counting bodies.”
“We must stop the high priest before he can seek further aid,” Varo said, as he tucked his empty wand back into his pouch. His store of healing aids was completely depleted, but Allera and Serah each had a wand of cure light wounds that was more or less fully charged.
“Go screw yourself,” Dar said, collapsed on his back on the water’s edge.
“We... we are spent, Varo,” Talen said, leaning against the adjacent wall in a way that suggested only its support was keeping him erect. “We need... to rest.”
“I share your sentiment, commander, but I would suggest that this is not the safest place to camp.”
Talen shifted his sightless gaze over to Shay. “Can we get back across the river?”
The scout looked across the gap. “Not easily. The current is really fast. But I think I can manage it, and can string a rope for the others.”
Allera pulled herself up. “Between Serah, Varo, and myself, I think we can help, Talen. Our lesser restorations can ease exhaustion... we have a few castings of the more potent version of the spell, which can completely eliminate all fatigue, but that spell requires us to use up some of our stock of diamond dust.”
Talen nodded, he understood fully the unspoken implication in the healer’s words. We might need it later. “All right,” he said. “Treat everyone you can, starting with Dar and Shay.”
“And you,” Shay said. “Blind or not, we will need your sword.”
Dar grunted as he sat up, then rose to his feet. His heavy armor clanked with the movement, and again as he drew Valor from its sheath. He started down the tunnel.
“Where are you going?” Shay asked.
The fighter’s face was grim as he looked back at her. He hefted his sword, the blue-tinged steel flashing in the artificial torchlight. “I’m going to get my club, and then I’m going to shove this down that freaking cleric’s throat.”
Thanks for reading, everyone! 36 thousand views and counting...
LB
* * * * *
Chapter 188
THE BONEYARD
Body parts were everywhere. Bones, thousands of bones, many shattered into pieces as small as a thumbnail. Littered among that debris were more substantial hunks of flesh. Small gibbets of foul-smelling gore were everywhere, and among those were dozens of arms, legs, heads, and other part of what had once been living, breathing things.
The detritus of waste covered the corridor floor like a thick carpet for a good forty feet. At several places, the remains formed low mounds, some almost waist high, hills and mountains in a landscape of destruction.
The smell was ferocious.
A bright ring of light shone around the companions, clustered close up against the river, where a purifying breeze flowed over the water. They had made a small space for themselves by the simple expedient of pushing back the corpses of destroyed zombies, or rolling them into the river. The exhausted survivors of the desperate battle doused themselves in the cold water, washing off not only sweat and blood, but the sick feeling of death that covered them like a film.
Blue flares rallied with the light of their continual flames. Varo, Allera, and Serah each exhausted one of their healing wands, but none of them stinted on the magic despite their dwinding supply. They reveled in feeling alive, but all of them knew that their respite was temporary.
“Damn, that was...” Dar said. He trailed off, unable to find a word that accurately described the battle.
It had ended fairly quickly, once Varo had destroyed the idol that had so bolstered the undead horde. With the fading of that dread power the undead became mere “common” skeletons and zombies. Dar had torn free from the four trying to drag him into the river, and he truly had become an instrument of destruction, laying a zombie down with every cut of Valor. Allera had caught hold of Serah before the current could drag her fully into the river, and had brought her back to consciousness in time to unleash several pulses of positive energy that had blasted rank after rank of zombies into dust. It had been a very, very close call; another few seconds might have pushed them beyond even their considerable mortal strength.
Varo had been caught apart from the others, and dragged down under a wave of zombies. His armor had protected him long enough to call upon his own power, bending those closest zombies to his will. His destroyers became a shield that had kept him safe long enough for Dar and Talen to fight their way to him. The goblin high priest had not remained for that, fleeing back up the tunnel shortly after the destruction of the idol.
“How many do you think we destroyed?” Kalend asked, nodding in thanks as Serah used a healing wand to finish treating his injuries.
Shay, sitting at the water’s edge, glanced down the tunnel. “I would say about a hundred zombies, maybe two thirds as many skeletons. Just a guess, really; I don’t think you’ll have much luck counting bodies.”
“We must stop the high priest before he can seek further aid,” Varo said, as he tucked his empty wand back into his pouch. His store of healing aids was completely depleted, but Allera and Serah each had a wand of cure light wounds that was more or less fully charged.
“Go screw yourself,” Dar said, collapsed on his back on the water’s edge.
“We... we are spent, Varo,” Talen said, leaning against the adjacent wall in a way that suggested only its support was keeping him erect. “We need... to rest.”
“I share your sentiment, commander, but I would suggest that this is not the safest place to camp.”
Talen shifted his sightless gaze over to Shay. “Can we get back across the river?”
The scout looked across the gap. “Not easily. The current is really fast. But I think I can manage it, and can string a rope for the others.”
Allera pulled herself up. “Between Serah, Varo, and myself, I think we can help, Talen. Our lesser restorations can ease exhaustion... we have a few castings of the more potent version of the spell, which can completely eliminate all fatigue, but that spell requires us to use up some of our stock of diamond dust.”
Talen nodded, he understood fully the unspoken implication in the healer’s words. We might need it later. “All right,” he said. “Treat everyone you can, starting with Dar and Shay.”
“And you,” Shay said. “Blind or not, we will need your sword.”
Dar grunted as he sat up, then rose to his feet. His heavy armor clanked with the movement, and again as he drew Valor from its sheath. He started down the tunnel.
“Where are you going?” Shay asked.
The fighter’s face was grim as he looked back at her. He hefted his sword, the blue-tinged steel flashing in the artificial torchlight. “I’m going to get my club, and then I’m going to shove this down that freaking cleric’s throat.”
Lazybones
Adventurer
Here's the Friday cliffhanger... gotta run!
* * * * *
Chapter 189
REMATCH
Despite Dar’s renewed determination to move forward, the companions ended up remaining at the water’s edge for almost half an hour. The lesser restorations helped Dar, Talen, Shay, and Kalend, taking the edge off their exhaustion, but leaving them fatigued. All were used to marching on in such a state, however, and they marshaled their will to return to the fray.
Shay took out supplies from her bag of holding, preserved foodstuffs that they are cold, and washed down with strong coffee. That latter had almost as potent an effect as the spells, and when they started down the tunnel again, they looked far more dangerous than they had at the end of the battle against the undead horde.
“Why did the priest flee?” Talen said, as they made their way cautiously through the row upon row of ruined bodies. “Even with the augmentations to his undead gone, he still had us at a disadvantage.”
“Who knows what goes through a freaking gobbo’s mind,” Dar grumbled. “No offense,” he added as an aside to Filcher, who paced them silently, a small shadow at the edge of their group. The goblin glanced up at the hulking human fighter, but did not respond.
“The priest will have more surprises in store,” Varo said.
“Priests always do,” Dar said, without looking back.
The going became easier as they left the dense press of smashed bodies behind them. There was no sign of the golden idol; it was likely that the goblin high priest had brought it with him in his retreat.
They made their way all the way back to the doors, now a wreckage of shattered wood and torn metal fittings. Beyond was another mess of debris, the remains of their first confrontation with the undead horde.
That wasn’t all they had left behind.
“Baraka,” Kalend said, staring down at the mess on the floor near the wall to the right. It was not immediately obvious that a man had died here. The undead had torn the ranger to pieces; there was an arm here, a leg there, and a bloody husk a short distance off that was probably his head. One of the ranger’s sickles still glinted from where it lay stuck in the sternum of a zombie, its hilt slick with blood.
The thief stood there, his face white, his legion sword quivering slightly in his hand.
The corpses of their goblinoid allies were in little better shape, and lay scattered around the chamber. The small bronze statue of Orcus that Shay had knocked over earlier was gone, and the large double doors on the far side of the room to their left had been closed again, still and ominous.
Dar kicked through the bones until his found his club. The magical weapon was undamaged, and the fighter took a moment to secure it across his back before taking up Valor again, and crossing toward the doors.
“Hold up,” Shay said, checking the perimeter of the room to make sure that there were no more lingering threats. Talen was with Allera, who was helping to guide the blinded knight forward.
Dar shot a dark look back, but he stopped his advance.
“Whatever’s behind that door will still be there when we’re all ready,” Allera said to him.
“I just want to get this done with,” the fighter said, turning back to the door, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.
Shay’s search took only a few moments. They recovered what they could of the gear left by Baraka and the goblinoids, and took up positions flanking the far doors. Talen drew Beatus Incendia, but he kept the sword low, and did not invoke its holy fire.
Shay had her bow out, and as she fitted an arrow to the string, she nodded at Dar.
“Just make sure he’s pointed in the right direction,” Dar said to Allera. Then he leaned forward and with a heave thrust the heavy doors open.
The chamber beyond was a giant hexagon, easily twice the size of the outer temple they currently occupied. The place was dominated by a massive stone statue of Orcus, a mere shadow at the edge of their light, yet unmistakable in its hulking mass.
The torchlight also revealed the metallic gleam of the smaller representations of the demon god, each smaller than a man, one of shining gold, the other of bronze. The three statues were arranged in a triangle, forming an angle that faced out toward the doors.
Kneeling in the center of that arrangement, warded by a row of zombies, was the goblin priest, Tribitz. The creature seemed oblvious to their intrusion, on his knees facing the stone statue, arms outstretched in supplication.
Serah lifted her holy symbol, but Varo forestalled her. “Do not bother; they have been bolstered.”
Shay did not hesitate, lifting her bow and firing. Behind her, Kalend and Filcher did the same. Kalend’s arrow hit a zombie and stuck uselessly in the flesh of its arm, but the other two knifed past the undead honor guard and hit the priest, ricocheting off the diminutive goblin’s heavy armor.
“It’s a trap,” Varo said, as Dar started forward.
The fighter glanced back at him. “Obviously,” he said, lifting Valor and rushing into the room as the zombies turned and began to shuffle toward him.
None of them saw it until it was too late, until the bebilith clinging to the ceiling over the doorway released its grip and plummeted down onto the charging fighter. Dar sensed the huge spider-demon falling directly toward him at the last instant. He flung himself aside, too late to avoid being struck by its bulk, but able at least to keep from being crushed underneath its two tons of weight. He hit the ground hard, barely keeping a grip on his sword as the demon loomed over him like a barely-imagined creature of nightmare. Drawing himself up into a crouch, the fighter barely brought Valor up in time to meet the bebilith’s rush, stabbing the sword into the side of its head just above the stabbing fangs.
The demon’s high-pitched shriek echoed through the temple with the force of a physical blow. It did not draw back or retreat in the face of its injury, however, instead driving forward to thrust its fangs deep into Dar’s shoulders. Dar screamed as deadly toxin was pumped directly into his bloodstream. He tried to pull away, but the demon seized him with its claws. Metal groaned as the creature ripped apart his breastplate as though the magical steel was the wrapper of a Harvestday present. Blood poured down Dar’s chest from the vicious puncture wounds, accompanied by thick green gobs of venom that spilled out from its long fangs.
The fighter was suddenly in grievous shape, but his companions were quick to rush to his aid. Shay sprang forward, her sword leaping to her hand as she dropped her bow. She targeted one of the demon’s spindly legs, aiming for a flexible joint, but its limbs were deceptively tough, a fact proven as her blade glanced off the thick cartigilous armor covering the joint. Kalend fired an arrow at its body, but he may as well have been trying to sink a war galleon with a slingshot for all of the effect that he had. By all appearances, its body armor was even more durable than that covering its legs.
But Talen had something even stronger than the demon’s considerable protections. White fire exploded around Beatus Incendia, casting the blind knight’s features into stark relief as he stepped forward and smote the demon from the side. The blessed steel clove deep into its body, making the wound it had suffered at Dar’s hand seem almost trivial by comparison. Black ichor hissed as it shot from the wound and hit the stone floor, making the surface slick.
Reeling from the critical hit, the demon released Dar, driving him back as it spun to face the knight. Talen lifted his sword to attack again, relying on the terrible noises coming from its mouth to guide his strike, but before he could unleash his swing the demon was on him, stabbing and crushing.
Dar imagined that he could feel the taint of the demon’s poison as it coursed through his body. His wounds burned, and his ruined armor jutted from his torso at awkward angles that interfered with his movement. His helmet no longer sat flush, obscuring his vision, so he reached up and yanked it free, grimacing as the motion sent another wave of agony stabbing through him. He coughed, and was not entirely surprised when he spat blood.
Ignoring the zombies that were shuffling forward to engage him, he turned back toward the demon and charged forward to finish what he’d started.
He did not spot the goblin cleric until it was too late. Realization hit him at the same time as the red glow surrounding its hand coursed into his body. Dar realized that the pain he’d felt from the demon’s attacks had been nothing against this, as the full dark power of a harm spell tore through him, breaking things inside him. He tried to scream but only managed a ferocious gurgle as blood exploded in a fountain from his mouth, spraying bright red onto the goblin’s armor. Blood also poured from the fighter’s ears, and from the corners of his eyes, as the spell took him to the very precipice of death.
The creature laughed, and lifted its morningstar to finish the job.
A few scant paces away, the demon came upon Talen like a whirlwind. The knight could not see the spider-monster’s lunge, but some instinct warned him of those darting fangs, and he brought his shield up barely in time to deflect those deadly blades. Screaming now with the fury of the battle, Talen lifted Beatus Incendia to strike it down.
But the demon had been waiting for that. Before he could strike, it snapped out a claw, seizing Talen by the shoulder in an immobilizing, crushing grip. Talen’s battle cry became a snarl of pain as the bebilith’s claw tightened, torturing the joint even through his heavy armor.
Talen tried to tear free, unsuccessfully. Then, before he could attempt anything further, the demon reached out with its other claw, snapping the razored end of it around Talen’s swordarm at the elbow.
A sinister satisfaction shone in the demon’s multifaceted eyes as it twisted the claw, sending Beatus Incendia, and the arm attached to it, flying across the room.
* * * * *
Chapter 189
REMATCH
Despite Dar’s renewed determination to move forward, the companions ended up remaining at the water’s edge for almost half an hour. The lesser restorations helped Dar, Talen, Shay, and Kalend, taking the edge off their exhaustion, but leaving them fatigued. All were used to marching on in such a state, however, and they marshaled their will to return to the fray.
Shay took out supplies from her bag of holding, preserved foodstuffs that they are cold, and washed down with strong coffee. That latter had almost as potent an effect as the spells, and when they started down the tunnel again, they looked far more dangerous than they had at the end of the battle against the undead horde.
“Why did the priest flee?” Talen said, as they made their way cautiously through the row upon row of ruined bodies. “Even with the augmentations to his undead gone, he still had us at a disadvantage.”
“Who knows what goes through a freaking gobbo’s mind,” Dar grumbled. “No offense,” he added as an aside to Filcher, who paced them silently, a small shadow at the edge of their group. The goblin glanced up at the hulking human fighter, but did not respond.
“The priest will have more surprises in store,” Varo said.
“Priests always do,” Dar said, without looking back.
The going became easier as they left the dense press of smashed bodies behind them. There was no sign of the golden idol; it was likely that the goblin high priest had brought it with him in his retreat.
They made their way all the way back to the doors, now a wreckage of shattered wood and torn metal fittings. Beyond was another mess of debris, the remains of their first confrontation with the undead horde.
That wasn’t all they had left behind.
“Baraka,” Kalend said, staring down at the mess on the floor near the wall to the right. It was not immediately obvious that a man had died here. The undead had torn the ranger to pieces; there was an arm here, a leg there, and a bloody husk a short distance off that was probably his head. One of the ranger’s sickles still glinted from where it lay stuck in the sternum of a zombie, its hilt slick with blood.
The thief stood there, his face white, his legion sword quivering slightly in his hand.
The corpses of their goblinoid allies were in little better shape, and lay scattered around the chamber. The small bronze statue of Orcus that Shay had knocked over earlier was gone, and the large double doors on the far side of the room to their left had been closed again, still and ominous.
Dar kicked through the bones until his found his club. The magical weapon was undamaged, and the fighter took a moment to secure it across his back before taking up Valor again, and crossing toward the doors.
“Hold up,” Shay said, checking the perimeter of the room to make sure that there were no more lingering threats. Talen was with Allera, who was helping to guide the blinded knight forward.
Dar shot a dark look back, but he stopped his advance.
“Whatever’s behind that door will still be there when we’re all ready,” Allera said to him.
“I just want to get this done with,” the fighter said, turning back to the door, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.
Shay’s search took only a few moments. They recovered what they could of the gear left by Baraka and the goblinoids, and took up positions flanking the far doors. Talen drew Beatus Incendia, but he kept the sword low, and did not invoke its holy fire.
Shay had her bow out, and as she fitted an arrow to the string, she nodded at Dar.
“Just make sure he’s pointed in the right direction,” Dar said to Allera. Then he leaned forward and with a heave thrust the heavy doors open.
The chamber beyond was a giant hexagon, easily twice the size of the outer temple they currently occupied. The place was dominated by a massive stone statue of Orcus, a mere shadow at the edge of their light, yet unmistakable in its hulking mass.
The torchlight also revealed the metallic gleam of the smaller representations of the demon god, each smaller than a man, one of shining gold, the other of bronze. The three statues were arranged in a triangle, forming an angle that faced out toward the doors.
Kneeling in the center of that arrangement, warded by a row of zombies, was the goblin priest, Tribitz. The creature seemed oblvious to their intrusion, on his knees facing the stone statue, arms outstretched in supplication.
Serah lifted her holy symbol, but Varo forestalled her. “Do not bother; they have been bolstered.”
Shay did not hesitate, lifting her bow and firing. Behind her, Kalend and Filcher did the same. Kalend’s arrow hit a zombie and stuck uselessly in the flesh of its arm, but the other two knifed past the undead honor guard and hit the priest, ricocheting off the diminutive goblin’s heavy armor.
“It’s a trap,” Varo said, as Dar started forward.
The fighter glanced back at him. “Obviously,” he said, lifting Valor and rushing into the room as the zombies turned and began to shuffle toward him.
None of them saw it until it was too late, until the bebilith clinging to the ceiling over the doorway released its grip and plummeted down onto the charging fighter. Dar sensed the huge spider-demon falling directly toward him at the last instant. He flung himself aside, too late to avoid being struck by its bulk, but able at least to keep from being crushed underneath its two tons of weight. He hit the ground hard, barely keeping a grip on his sword as the demon loomed over him like a barely-imagined creature of nightmare. Drawing himself up into a crouch, the fighter barely brought Valor up in time to meet the bebilith’s rush, stabbing the sword into the side of its head just above the stabbing fangs.
The demon’s high-pitched shriek echoed through the temple with the force of a physical blow. It did not draw back or retreat in the face of its injury, however, instead driving forward to thrust its fangs deep into Dar’s shoulders. Dar screamed as deadly toxin was pumped directly into his bloodstream. He tried to pull away, but the demon seized him with its claws. Metal groaned as the creature ripped apart his breastplate as though the magical steel was the wrapper of a Harvestday present. Blood poured down Dar’s chest from the vicious puncture wounds, accompanied by thick green gobs of venom that spilled out from its long fangs.
The fighter was suddenly in grievous shape, but his companions were quick to rush to his aid. Shay sprang forward, her sword leaping to her hand as she dropped her bow. She targeted one of the demon’s spindly legs, aiming for a flexible joint, but its limbs were deceptively tough, a fact proven as her blade glanced off the thick cartigilous armor covering the joint. Kalend fired an arrow at its body, but he may as well have been trying to sink a war galleon with a slingshot for all of the effect that he had. By all appearances, its body armor was even more durable than that covering its legs.
But Talen had something even stronger than the demon’s considerable protections. White fire exploded around Beatus Incendia, casting the blind knight’s features into stark relief as he stepped forward and smote the demon from the side. The blessed steel clove deep into its body, making the wound it had suffered at Dar’s hand seem almost trivial by comparison. Black ichor hissed as it shot from the wound and hit the stone floor, making the surface slick.
Reeling from the critical hit, the demon released Dar, driving him back as it spun to face the knight. Talen lifted his sword to attack again, relying on the terrible noises coming from its mouth to guide his strike, but before he could unleash his swing the demon was on him, stabbing and crushing.
Dar imagined that he could feel the taint of the demon’s poison as it coursed through his body. His wounds burned, and his ruined armor jutted from his torso at awkward angles that interfered with his movement. His helmet no longer sat flush, obscuring his vision, so he reached up and yanked it free, grimacing as the motion sent another wave of agony stabbing through him. He coughed, and was not entirely surprised when he spat blood.
Ignoring the zombies that were shuffling forward to engage him, he turned back toward the demon and charged forward to finish what he’d started.
He did not spot the goblin cleric until it was too late. Realization hit him at the same time as the red glow surrounding its hand coursed into his body. Dar realized that the pain he’d felt from the demon’s attacks had been nothing against this, as the full dark power of a harm spell tore through him, breaking things inside him. He tried to scream but only managed a ferocious gurgle as blood exploded in a fountain from his mouth, spraying bright red onto the goblin’s armor. Blood also poured from the fighter’s ears, and from the corners of his eyes, as the spell took him to the very precipice of death.
The creature laughed, and lifted its morningstar to finish the job.
A few scant paces away, the demon came upon Talen like a whirlwind. The knight could not see the spider-monster’s lunge, but some instinct warned him of those darting fangs, and he brought his shield up barely in time to deflect those deadly blades. Screaming now with the fury of the battle, Talen lifted Beatus Incendia to strike it down.
But the demon had been waiting for that. Before he could strike, it snapped out a claw, seizing Talen by the shoulder in an immobilizing, crushing grip. Talen’s battle cry became a snarl of pain as the bebilith’s claw tightened, torturing the joint even through his heavy armor.
Talen tried to tear free, unsuccessfully. Then, before he could attempt anything further, the demon reached out with its other claw, snapping the razored end of it around Talen’s swordarm at the elbow.
A sinister satisfaction shone in the demon’s multifaceted eyes as it twisted the claw, sending Beatus Incendia, and the arm attached to it, flying across the room.
Richard Rawen
First Post
Lazybones said:
Well, too late but I hope you have(had) a safe trip. For so many reads there startlingly few posts . . . *hint hint* fellow readers.
Give the guy some feedback, Yes he knows that you know that the story rocks... but c'mon! Writers feed on feedback!
Crap! Crap crap crap! Good thing they didn't use all that Diamond Dust!!!Lazybones said:
Thanks again LB for taking the time to post before your trip!
GrolloStoutfoam
First Post
Indeed the number of views are well deserved LB. I do not post much (but hey most of my posts are in this thread 
) but I do check this thread every single day I have computer access, not only hoping for bonus posts but to see everyone else's comments as well.
Thank you for never failing to entertain and awe and as for the cliffhanger ... I'm speechless.
) but I do check this thread every single day I have computer access, not only hoping for bonus posts but to see everyone else's comments as well. Thank you for never failing to entertain and awe and as for the cliffhanger ... I'm speechless.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for the posts, guys! I appreciate the positive feedback.
* * * * *
Chapter 190
CHAOS
Shay felt like a bit of flotsam in a drowning wave, as the chaos of the battle raged around her. Thus far, she had not been able to even draw blood from the foe; she could only watch as Dar was grappled and mangled by the spider demon.
The scout caught a hint of movement and saw Allera rush through the doors, heading for Dar. The spider demon saw her too, she realized, as one claw came up to strike the rushing woman down. Shay opened her mouth to scream a warning, but time seemed to slow around her as Talen stepped forward and smote the demon.
That got its attention. Shay tried to assist, to draw the creature’s attention enough to widen Talen’s opportunity, but her sword slid off its thick body without effect, and it completely ignored her as it laid into the knight. Shay felt something clench inside her gut as the demon seized him, but that was nothing compared to what pierced her when the monster severed his arm. At first she’d thought that it had just knocked away his weapon, her mind denying what it had perceived. But then Talen screamed, and the jet of red blood exploding from the stump of his arm shattered the interlude, bringing reality and the full press of time’s passing back in a sudden, dizzying rush.
She could not remember a conscious decision to move, but she was attacking, hewing at the creature’s body with a violence that startled her. Her strokes continued to glide off its body, but she kept on hacking, both hands wrapped tight around the hilt of her sword. There was a terrible sound all around her, and with a sudden shock she realized it was her own voice, a raw scream torn from deep within her chest.
Clarity returned just in time for her to see the demon’s claw knifing down toward her.
Dar knew what it was like to be dying, so the sensations that wracked his body were known to him. He wasn’t sure what the goblin cleric had done to him, but it had made the inflict wounds spells he’d absorbed in the past feel like love tickles. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing, but he was wise enough to know that the proper course in this situation, with zombies lurching all around him, a deadly foe directly ahead, and a giant mothering spider-thing that had torn the living crap out of him standing over his shoulder, was to fall back, and seek help.
So instead he lifted his sword, and charged forward at the goblin. He couldn’t manage a full windup, not with his life blood pouring from every orifice in his body, but he felt a very satisfying thwack that traveled up the lengths of his arms as he brought the sword down in a solid chopping motion across the front of the goblin’s head.
Unfortunately for him, the goblin was wearing a full helm. The force of the blow knocked it back, but it quickly straightened. As it turned back toward Dar, the fighter could see that despite the blood trickling out from under the front of the helm, there was an evil smile shining in its eyes.
Eschewing its morningstar, the goblin merely reached out and pressed the palm of its hand against Dar’s chest. With his breastplate torn away and his jerkin ruined the creature’s fingers found bare flesh. To Dar, it was like being stabbed through the heart with an icicle.
“Damn... you...” he managed, and then it all started to go black.
Shay knifed back, her body bending almost double over backwards, instinct and reflexes barely kicking in before the claw would have smashed hard into her chest. She could feel the breeze of its passage as it shot past her face. She sprang forward, ready to attack or move, as needed.
She recognized the trap too late.
She tried to jump anyway, but she’d barely cleared the ground before the claw snapped into her back, drawing her up into the monster’s grasp. The demon’s hideous, alien visage grew huge before her, and there was nothing she could do to escape in time to avoid those long, deadly fangs as they stabbed deep into her torso, just above her stomach.
Pain exploded through her, and she looked down to see the bebilith’s fangs stuck into her body like twin daggers.
A warm feeling poured through Dar’s body, melting the cold chill that had suffused his body at the evil cleric’s touch. He blinked, wondering why he was still alive. The goblin was there, looking ugly and furious, his outstretched hand still pressed up against Dar. Dar though it might be a good idea to hit him again, but somehow his body refused to obey his commands.
“Your power is weak before the might of the True God, human bitch,” the goblin hissed. Realization hit Dar like a slap—Allera! He tried to force his body into obedience, but he was already falling, tumbling to the side into the eager grasp of several zombies. The last thing he heard was the healer crying out in pain, but there was nothing he could do about it as the darkness closed back in upon him once more.
The fighter’s companions were at that moment engaged in a desperate but thus far futile struggle against the bebilith. Talen slumped to the ground, bleeding out from the terrible wound in his arm, while the monster turned to deal with Shay. Serah was at his side at once, her face white as the spreading ring of crimson soaked her boots and cloak. Forcing down her terror, she drew out her last remaining healing wand, even as her face betrayed her doubt at what a cure light wounds could do in the face of that.
Kalend had kept up their barrage of missiles, to absolutely no effect. He looked over at where Filcher had been a moment ago, and saw only empty space. Apparently the creature had realized before he had that the battle against this foe could end only one way. The thief hesitated for several long seconds, and even went so far as to glance back at the outer temple doors, and the promise of escape. But duty eventually won out, although his hands shook as he dropped his bow and drew out his Legion shortsword. He was too late to help Shay, who was yanked off the ground and impaled by the demon’s fangs.
Before it could rend the scout with its deadly claws, however, the demon let out a piercing shriek and spun awkwardly around. One of its legs just came apart, ichor jutting from the socket where the limb had been attached. The demon fixed upon the source of its trouble. Licinius Varo did not flinch under that intense, alien stare.
“Come then,” the cleric said softly.
The demon obliged, tossing Shay almost casually aside.
Allera screamed as black flames erupted from the goblin cleric’s hand as it brushed her skin. She could feel the dark energies that clutched at her soul, but she resisted the full force of the slay living spell. The coursing negative energies still hurt her, but she was able to tear away, staggering back.
A pair of zombies pressed forward around the cleric, seeking her flesh. One stumbled on some blood—Dar’s blood, she realized—on the floor, but the other managed to connect with a solid blow that send a needle of pain through her shoulder.
“You will all perish,” the goblin cleric said, mocking.
Allera ignored both him and the zombies, diving for the leg that jutted out from a knot of sallow-fleshed zombies. Her concentration was total, and she forced herself to ignore the mental screams of danger coming from her left as the enemy cleric came in again, instead focusing what little was left of her powers upon Dar. She grabbed his ankle with both hands, and unleashed all that she had left into him.
The blow, when it came, was not as painful as she’d thought it would have been. She tasted blood in her mouth as she fell.
Varo could not avoid the bebilith’s furious lunge, and he made no effort to do so. One claw slid off his magical breastplate, hitting him hard but failing to get a solid grip on him. As he staggered to the side, however, the second claw scooped him up, driving him up into the waiting fangs. One pierced his shoulder inches from the pulsing artery in his neck; the other caught him under his arm. The demon held him there, tilted awkwardly, pouring its deadly venom into the cleric’s body.
Varo grunted and touched the demon between its eyes, and hit it with another inflict wounds spell. The demon lurched back, ichor oozing from the opening in the middle of its face, but it did not relent, driving the fangs deeper into its prey.
Thus engaged, it did not see Talen stagger to his feet. The knight, still trailing blood from his jagged stump, released his shield, and drew his second sword with his off-hand. The clatter of iron on the stone floor alerted the spider demon, but it refused to release its current victim, as Varo continued to struggle, and to pour violence into its body. Instead it shot down its extra claw, intending to finish what it had started earlier.
Talen took the hit. Instead of going down, however, he stepped forward, and thrust the sword to the hilt into the demon’s head, just behind its jaws.
Zombies went flying as Dar laid about him with his sword. Even lying on his back, the blows were devastating, and each hit severed legs and bodies, the axiomatic blade ripping through the rotted flesh like parchment. Within a few seconds, the area around him was clear.
He looked up to see the goblin cleric and another two zombies standing above the limp form of Allera. Blood covered the spiked end of the goblin’s morningstar.
Something ferocious growled deep in the fighter’s chest, as he rolled to his feet. He was still not far gone from dead, but the look in his eyes was not that of a man on the brink of annihilation.
The goblin saw it, and smiled again as it called upon its dark powers. But before Tribitz could complete the spell, it staggered, clutching at the end of an arrow that jutted from a tiny gap in its armor under its right arm. The shaft had punched through the leather there deep into the goblin cleric’s body, and by the look on the goblin’s face, it had hit something important inside.
Tribitz snarled, and turned to look for who had shot it. But there was nothing there, just the golden icon of the True God, now just a hunk of useless metal shorn of its power.
Then the cleric, along with everyone in the room, heard the bebilith scream, as Talen drove two feet of magical steel up into its corrupt brain. The huge spider demon thrashed as it fell over backwards, its legs snapping out like whips around it. Talen, Varo, and Shaylara were all knocked sprawling by the violence of its death throes.
The goblin cleric drew back, damaged but still dangerous. It reached for its pouch and the healing potion it carried there, but was diverted as Dar strode after it, his purpose obvious in the fierce look in his eyes. A zombie shambled forward and reached out for the fighter, but Valor flashed out without him breaking stride. The zombie fell, the upper and lower halves of its body twitching.
The goblin snarled and lifted its divine focus. Dar raised Valor, but he hesitated at the sound of a low moan of distress behind him. Glancing back, he saw that a zombie had grabbed hold of Allera, who was still only semiconscious. The undead creature had seized hold of her tunic with one hand, and was yanking her up into its embrace. Blood covered the ground, and Dar could see it falling in long trails from the vicious wound in her back. Allera moaned again, but she was still limp, unable to fight against the zombie’s clumsy but powerful grasp. The healer’s head lolled to the side, exposing her neck. The zombie opened its jaws wide to sink its yellow teeth deep into the pale flesh.
Dar was already running, coming up on the zombie from behind, his ruined armor clattering loudly with his rush. A spell struck him, but this time the magic coursed off the hardened focus of his will, dissolving without effect. But even as he closed the distance between them, six paces, five, four, too slowly, the zombie lowered its head to rip out the healer’s throat.
Snaggletooth materialized in the gap, viciously tearing and snapping with his tiny claws and teeth. The zombie could feel no pain from the gashes that the dragon opened in its face, and it did not release its hold on Allera. But the dragon’s efforts caused its bite to close on empty air, missing the tenuous pulse in the healer’s neck by a scant inch. The zombie lashed out with one arm, smacking the dragon roughly and knocking it back several feet. With that attended to, it returned its attention to its victim.
Before it could attempt another bite, however, the zombie’s head exploded into thousands of fragments as Valor tore through it, leaving only a jagged piece of spine that jutted from the ruin of its neck. Dar caught Allera as the zombie fell, and lowered her gently down to the floor. Allera did not respond; she had fallen back into deep unconsciousness. From the front, without seeing the terrible wound in her back, she looked almost peaceful, but Dar’s hands came away soaked in crimson as he pulled them out from under her.
Dar turned back toward the goblin high priest, but was not really surprised to see that he was gone. He looked across the oozing hulk of the spider demon at his companions, who looked to be in little better shape than he was.
“Serah, Varo, one of you get over here!” he yelled, standing over Allera, blood smeared across his features. Bright red drops continued to fall from the ruined edges of his armor, forming ugly splotches on the healer’s ragged clothes as they struck.
* * * * *
Chapter 190
CHAOS
Shay felt like a bit of flotsam in a drowning wave, as the chaos of the battle raged around her. Thus far, she had not been able to even draw blood from the foe; she could only watch as Dar was grappled and mangled by the spider demon.
The scout caught a hint of movement and saw Allera rush through the doors, heading for Dar. The spider demon saw her too, she realized, as one claw came up to strike the rushing woman down. Shay opened her mouth to scream a warning, but time seemed to slow around her as Talen stepped forward and smote the demon.
That got its attention. Shay tried to assist, to draw the creature’s attention enough to widen Talen’s opportunity, but her sword slid off its thick body without effect, and it completely ignored her as it laid into the knight. Shay felt something clench inside her gut as the demon seized him, but that was nothing compared to what pierced her when the monster severed his arm. At first she’d thought that it had just knocked away his weapon, her mind denying what it had perceived. But then Talen screamed, and the jet of red blood exploding from the stump of his arm shattered the interlude, bringing reality and the full press of time’s passing back in a sudden, dizzying rush.
She could not remember a conscious decision to move, but she was attacking, hewing at the creature’s body with a violence that startled her. Her strokes continued to glide off its body, but she kept on hacking, both hands wrapped tight around the hilt of her sword. There was a terrible sound all around her, and with a sudden shock she realized it was her own voice, a raw scream torn from deep within her chest.
Clarity returned just in time for her to see the demon’s claw knifing down toward her.
Dar knew what it was like to be dying, so the sensations that wracked his body were known to him. He wasn’t sure what the goblin cleric had done to him, but it had made the inflict wounds spells he’d absorbed in the past feel like love tickles. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing, but he was wise enough to know that the proper course in this situation, with zombies lurching all around him, a deadly foe directly ahead, and a giant mother
ing spider-thing that had torn the living crap out of him standing over his shoulder, was to fall back, and seek help. So instead he lifted his sword, and charged forward at the goblin. He couldn’t manage a full windup, not with his life blood pouring from every orifice in his body, but he felt a very satisfying thwack that traveled up the lengths of his arms as he brought the sword down in a solid chopping motion across the front of the goblin’s head.
Unfortunately for him, the goblin was wearing a full helm. The force of the blow knocked it back, but it quickly straightened. As it turned back toward Dar, the fighter could see that despite the blood trickling out from under the front of the helm, there was an evil smile shining in its eyes.
Eschewing its morningstar, the goblin merely reached out and pressed the palm of its hand against Dar’s chest. With his breastplate torn away and his jerkin ruined the creature’s fingers found bare flesh. To Dar, it was like being stabbed through the heart with an icicle.
“Damn... you...” he managed, and then it all started to go black.
Shay knifed back, her body bending almost double over backwards, instinct and reflexes barely kicking in before the claw would have smashed hard into her chest. She could feel the breeze of its passage as it shot past her face. She sprang forward, ready to attack or move, as needed.
She recognized the trap too late.
She tried to jump anyway, but she’d barely cleared the ground before the claw snapped into her back, drawing her up into the monster’s grasp. The demon’s hideous, alien visage grew huge before her, and there was nothing she could do to escape in time to avoid those long, deadly fangs as they stabbed deep into her torso, just above her stomach.
Pain exploded through her, and she looked down to see the bebilith’s fangs stuck into her body like twin daggers.
A warm feeling poured through Dar’s body, melting the cold chill that had suffused his body at the evil cleric’s touch. He blinked, wondering why he was still alive. The goblin was there, looking ugly and furious, his outstretched hand still pressed up against Dar. Dar though it might be a good idea to hit him again, but somehow his body refused to obey his commands.
“Your power is weak before the might of the True God, human bitch,” the goblin hissed. Realization hit Dar like a slap—Allera! He tried to force his body into obedience, but he was already falling, tumbling to the side into the eager grasp of several zombies. The last thing he heard was the healer crying out in pain, but there was nothing he could do about it as the darkness closed back in upon him once more.
The fighter’s companions were at that moment engaged in a desperate but thus far futile struggle against the bebilith. Talen slumped to the ground, bleeding out from the terrible wound in his arm, while the monster turned to deal with Shay. Serah was at his side at once, her face white as the spreading ring of crimson soaked her boots and cloak. Forcing down her terror, she drew out her last remaining healing wand, even as her face betrayed her doubt at what a cure light wounds could do in the face of that.
Kalend had kept up their barrage of missiles, to absolutely no effect. He looked over at where Filcher had been a moment ago, and saw only empty space. Apparently the creature had realized before he had that the battle against this foe could end only one way. The thief hesitated for several long seconds, and even went so far as to glance back at the outer temple doors, and the promise of escape. But duty eventually won out, although his hands shook as he dropped his bow and drew out his Legion shortsword. He was too late to help Shay, who was yanked off the ground and impaled by the demon’s fangs.
Before it could rend the scout with its deadly claws, however, the demon let out a piercing shriek and spun awkwardly around. One of its legs just came apart, ichor jutting from the socket where the limb had been attached. The demon fixed upon the source of its trouble. Licinius Varo did not flinch under that intense, alien stare.
“Come then,” the cleric said softly.
The demon obliged, tossing Shay almost casually aside.
Allera screamed as black flames erupted from the goblin cleric’s hand as it brushed her skin. She could feel the dark energies that clutched at her soul, but she resisted the full force of the slay living spell. The coursing negative energies still hurt her, but she was able to tear away, staggering back.
A pair of zombies pressed forward around the cleric, seeking her flesh. One stumbled on some blood—Dar’s blood, she realized—on the floor, but the other managed to connect with a solid blow that send a needle of pain through her shoulder.
“You will all perish,” the goblin cleric said, mocking.
Allera ignored both him and the zombies, diving for the leg that jutted out from a knot of sallow-fleshed zombies. Her concentration was total, and she forced herself to ignore the mental screams of danger coming from her left as the enemy cleric came in again, instead focusing what little was left of her powers upon Dar. She grabbed his ankle with both hands, and unleashed all that she had left into him.
The blow, when it came, was not as painful as she’d thought it would have been. She tasted blood in her mouth as she fell.
Varo could not avoid the bebilith’s furious lunge, and he made no effort to do so. One claw slid off his magical breastplate, hitting him hard but failing to get a solid grip on him. As he staggered to the side, however, the second claw scooped him up, driving him up into the waiting fangs. One pierced his shoulder inches from the pulsing artery in his neck; the other caught him under his arm. The demon held him there, tilted awkwardly, pouring its deadly venom into the cleric’s body.
Varo grunted and touched the demon between its eyes, and hit it with another inflict wounds spell. The demon lurched back, ichor oozing from the opening in the middle of its face, but it did not relent, driving the fangs deeper into its prey.
Thus engaged, it did not see Talen stagger to his feet. The knight, still trailing blood from his jagged stump, released his shield, and drew his second sword with his off-hand. The clatter of iron on the stone floor alerted the spider demon, but it refused to release its current victim, as Varo continued to struggle, and to pour violence into its body. Instead it shot down its extra claw, intending to finish what it had started earlier.
Talen took the hit. Instead of going down, however, he stepped forward, and thrust the sword to the hilt into the demon’s head, just behind its jaws.
Zombies went flying as Dar laid about him with his sword. Even lying on his back, the blows were devastating, and each hit severed legs and bodies, the axiomatic blade ripping through the rotted flesh like parchment. Within a few seconds, the area around him was clear.
He looked up to see the goblin cleric and another two zombies standing above the limp form of Allera. Blood covered the spiked end of the goblin’s morningstar.
Something ferocious growled deep in the fighter’s chest, as he rolled to his feet. He was still not far gone from dead, but the look in his eyes was not that of a man on the brink of annihilation.
The goblin saw it, and smiled again as it called upon its dark powers. But before Tribitz could complete the spell, it staggered, clutching at the end of an arrow that jutted from a tiny gap in its armor under its right arm. The shaft had punched through the leather there deep into the goblin cleric’s body, and by the look on the goblin’s face, it had hit something important inside.
Tribitz snarled, and turned to look for who had shot it. But there was nothing there, just the golden icon of the True God, now just a hunk of useless metal shorn of its power.
Then the cleric, along with everyone in the room, heard the bebilith scream, as Talen drove two feet of magical steel up into its corrupt brain. The huge spider demon thrashed as it fell over backwards, its legs snapping out like whips around it. Talen, Varo, and Shaylara were all knocked sprawling by the violence of its death throes.
The goblin cleric drew back, damaged but still dangerous. It reached for its pouch and the healing potion it carried there, but was diverted as Dar strode after it, his purpose obvious in the fierce look in his eyes. A zombie shambled forward and reached out for the fighter, but Valor flashed out without him breaking stride. The zombie fell, the upper and lower halves of its body twitching.
The goblin snarled and lifted its divine focus. Dar raised Valor, but he hesitated at the sound of a low moan of distress behind him. Glancing back, he saw that a zombie had grabbed hold of Allera, who was still only semiconscious. The undead creature had seized hold of her tunic with one hand, and was yanking her up into its embrace. Blood covered the ground, and Dar could see it falling in long trails from the vicious wound in her back. Allera moaned again, but she was still limp, unable to fight against the zombie’s clumsy but powerful grasp. The healer’s head lolled to the side, exposing her neck. The zombie opened its jaws wide to sink its yellow teeth deep into the pale flesh.
Dar was already running, coming up on the zombie from behind, his ruined armor clattering loudly with his rush. A spell struck him, but this time the magic coursed off the hardened focus of his will, dissolving without effect. But even as he closed the distance between them, six paces, five, four, too slowly, the zombie lowered its head to rip out the healer’s throat.
Snaggletooth materialized in the gap, viciously tearing and snapping with his tiny claws and teeth. The zombie could feel no pain from the gashes that the dragon opened in its face, and it did not release its hold on Allera. But the dragon’s efforts caused its bite to close on empty air, missing the tenuous pulse in the healer’s neck by a scant inch. The zombie lashed out with one arm, smacking the dragon roughly and knocking it back several feet. With that attended to, it returned its attention to its victim.
Before it could attempt another bite, however, the zombie’s head exploded into thousands of fragments as Valor tore through it, leaving only a jagged piece of spine that jutted from the ruin of its neck. Dar caught Allera as the zombie fell, and lowered her gently down to the floor. Allera did not respond; she had fallen back into deep unconsciousness. From the front, without seeing the terrible wound in her back, she looked almost peaceful, but Dar’s hands came away soaked in crimson as he pulled them out from under her.
Dar turned back toward the goblin high priest, but was not really surprised to see that he was gone. He looked across the oozing hulk of the spider demon at his companions, who looked to be in little better shape than he was.
“Serah, Varo, one of you get over here!” he yelled, standing over Allera, blood smeared across his features. Bright red drops continued to fall from the ruined edges of his armor, forming ugly splotches on the healer’s ragged clothes as they struck.
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