Jollum looked up at the ceiling of his tent office from the crook of his hammock, the letter in his right hand swinging over the edge and brushing the floor. The sickness still rattled in his chest, making every breath an effort to ignore the taste of blood. He leaned over the edge of the hammock to cough the contents of his lungs into a spittoon. Looking into the foul contents of the spittoon, he wondered if he would ever cough himself into a state like this: all red and gooey with saliva. He wiped the spit from his lip with his sleeve and considered the back of his left hand.
His hand still bore the coarse hair of a Halfling, but the hand it sprouted from belied its age. Cracked from overwork and wrinkled from premature aging--a hard life he'd tell the curious--the palms of Jollum's hands read like the rampant squiggles of an Elven inventory list. The fine jacket sleeve that covered his arm was a mockery of what he aspired to be, the drying spit notwithstanding. Jollum sat up and drew the sleeve closer to his eyes, looking closer at what he really had become. So many years under Blackheart's yoke had taken its toll, and she collected the fee in his lifeblood hand over fist.
He should have never betrayed them. Had he stayed true to his job, Jollum thought, he'd not be a walking wreck of a man. To walk through the valley of the shadow of Death was one thing; to set up a homestead in its belly was another thing entirely.
A clank at the gate of the construction site pulled Jollum away and he stuck his head out. He saw the back of a worker hefting a sack over his shoulder. The sack clanked a bit much for his liking, so he called out to the worker. The worker turned and faced the foreman, unsurprised at the identity of the porter.
"Rashad," Jollum said. "What's with the bag?"
"I'm moving, chief. I found someplace else to stay."
A sad look came over the foreman's face as he stated more than asked, "You're leavin' us, lad."
Rashad smirked and said, "No, no. I'm just moving to a different place in town."
"No, you don't understand. You are leaving us."Jollum held up the letter. "You've been relieved of duty, responsibility and pay from Black Spade Construction Company. I'm sorry to say."
"Y-you?e getting rid of me? Why?"
"It's not me that's relieved you, although your constant talking during the workday gave me pause as to whether I should keep you against the order. You're a good worker when you're silent, Rashad," Jollum said. "I'd keep you if there were no problems, but this comes from Blackheart the Benefactor herself. Take a look."
Snatching the letter from hairy hands, Rashad looked at the words and the signature. It was all in Common, yet signed with a seal of a trisected heart in black ink. This woman is playing with my livelihood, Rashad thought. Seeing the look on his worker's face, Jollum said, "This is your last day so I'll try to give you some kind of parting bonus, alright?"
"Fine." Rashad stomped off to the back and placed his stuff by the slate deposits and he began to pace. That blasted necromancer's got this town locked down tighter than a dungeon, he mulled. Rashad came to the conclusion that this whole situation wasn't worth his time. He needed time to think on things and he couldn't do that when the undead threaten his very existence. A solution came into his mind as he looked up at Barcrab working on the western wall. Just like the brick that fell from his ruddy claw, Rashad would run away.
That's it: run away. No more dealing with that misandrist shrew, the undead, or this screwed up barter system that's made this crappy town even crappier than it is. If the great Benefactor wants me gone, so be it; I can go back to Miniga--hell, even Sannohe--anytime I want to. I won't even have to work a job I'm not properly qualified for; I can go back to adventuring…
Dammit. Adventuring. The very same thing that got me here in the first place, the same thing that got Sa-ren killed; all of it just a screwed up whirlpool of--of--
Rashad leaned against a nearby wall and beat on it with his fist as he looked up at the sky. He had enough of the world, its madness. All that he had known about his abilities he called into question. Was he really an adventurer worthy of the Rock Sword he was given? To think: the world before me, a magic sword in my sack and all I can come up with is running away.
A low growl formed in his throat as he clenched his fists. I'm not running from this. I've faced killer robots from the stars, Insectoids and lived through a war; one woman will not stand in the way of my path. Rashad walked away from the wall, his head and hands filled with new purpose. His mind was so focused on what he was gonna do as a party to last night's agreements, that he didn't even hear Wyle approach.
"Hey man. Something's going down on the street," the carpenter reported. "Looks like the hoods are taking people from wherever they are. They ain't being nice about it, either."
"The Hells is going on out there?" Rashad shot back.
"I don't know. Cyan's at the gate with Jollum and Barcrab and they can see it all going on from there. Let's go see, man; get your stuff!" Picking up his sack, Rashad caught up to Wyle by the time he reached the gate. Sidling up to the wooden fence next to Barcrab, he held the sack close to him to minimize the rattling as he leaned over and looked out the gate.
The black-hooded ghouls were out in force, grabbing people from their homes and businesses. The shopkeeper Kehlin was pulled from the general store, screaming about how he didn't do anything. The ghouls gave no quarter and tossed him into a waiting wagon. More ghouls came into the middle of town and began to ramp up their search for people. Doors were kicked in and windows bashed to get at the people hiding inside. Men, women and children were rounded up and placed into the wagon. A team of ghouls pulled the wagon away from the center of town to the south--towards Blackheart Estates.
In the midst of all the chaos, Rashad spied a single figure undisturbed by the commotion. She meandered to and fro to dodge the busied ghouls, struggling to stay on her own feet. With weary eyes and a pale complexion, she looked up from the ground with eyes of the lightest green.
"Inia," Rashad said, "By Toren, she's out there!"
He made a move to head out in the center of town, but Cyan held him back and brought him behind the fence. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Rashad? You don't just run out there to fight the undead like a rabble of bandits!"
"I don't care, Inia's gonna end up on that cart when it comes back!"
"That's the Benefactor's daughter!" Jollum rasped. "Whatever's going on, she'll be immune. There's no point in risking your life for something that's already safe!"
"She's not safe with ME, and that's MY concern" Rashad spat back.
"But what about the plan?"Wyle asked.
Rashad turned to the carpenter and said, "Damned Benefactor isn't following the plan, so why should I? I'm going out there to get her and I'll need back up. You with me?"
Cyan weighed the chances of survival in his head briefly and said, "Fine, I'll follow you and back you up. We're gonna need weapons."
"Mark the number down by one on the weapons count," Rashad said as he drew the Rock Sword from the sack, "I've got my own."
"What?" Jollum sputtered. "You brought a weapon onto my work site?"
Wyle stopped the foreman with "Now's not the time, sir."
The entire time the exchange went on, Barcrab had extended his eyestalks over the fence and saw the group of ghouls headed for the construction site. He spoke in his bass voice, "GUYS, THE GHOULS…"
"Good! It looks like it's of Draconian make. You any good with it?" Cyan cut in as he hefted his own shovel.
"Watch me" Rashad said and turned to face the ghouls, as they stared in murderous ignorance with dead eyes. He matched their stare with one of burning defiance and brought his sword to bear.
.......................................................
Strapping on fresh gloves for what seemed to be the umpteenth time this afternoon, Blackheart went to meet the remainder of the cargo brought up from Karmor's Bend. The necromancer whistled a macabre tune in the chilled subterranean air as she approached the charnel chamber, where the "leftovers" were housed for the moment. She smiled when she reached the door and overheard the scared locals speaking amongst themselves in hushed tones.
"…was supposed to be at Egress today, can you believe…"
"…Oh Toren, why me…"
"…done nothing to deserve this…"
"…baby, it'll be over soon. The Benefactor's got us over for a surprise, you'll see…"
"…bitch'll never know what hit her…"
What.
Beckoning for two ghouls to aid her in her act, she opened the door and said, "Whom are you calling a bitch?"
The townsfolk froze. They all had looks of shock on their faces, from the adults to the small child sitting inside the chamber. One of the captured townsfolk had the nerve to rush Blackheart, screaming, "Let us go!"
A ghoul caught the would-be attacker and threw him against the wall. The ghouls moved to attack, but Blackheart waved them off. "No. If this elf wants to be free, he's got to get past me." She drew a shining silver dagger with a skull pommel from her waistband and said, "Whenever you're ready, elf."
The shirtless and well-muscled elven male charged again and said, "I'll kill you, you monster!" He caught Blackheart in her midsection and tackled her to the ground. His hand wrapped around her neck and her blade hand as he said, "You let us go or I swear by Syfalhalla, I'll kill you…"
Blackheart couldn't hear him because she was in the middle of trying to struggle loose. As his hand closed about her neck, she looked at the elf strangling her and he wasn't the same. He was--
NO. NOT AGAIN. NEVER AGAIN.
She saw the jeering grins and the lustful eyes all over again, hands holding her down and apart, the helpless struggling made all the more so from drink. She heard the mocking laughter, the endless string of names--CUTIE HONEY BABY BITCH SLUT WHORE--and those last words said to her as the pain ebbed away only to come back in a new form of shame: "Damned worthless gutter trash didn't even do the job right, man."
Man. Men. Males. All of them. Worthless. Gutter trash. Nothing.
A rage born of intolerance and vengeance washed over Blackheart as she began to overpower the elf, pushing against his weight with her own inner strength. When she was able to sit up, she spat in his face and wrenched her blade hand free of his grip. She slashed him across his arm and took initiative when he rolled onto his back. Blackheart straddled him and brought the dagger into his chest over and over again. The flash of the blade was soon marred by the crimson staining from the elf's blood. Even after the elf was dead, she continued to bury the dagger deeper and deeper into his chest. The necromancer didn't stop stabbing until the blood began to seep into the gloves, and when she stopped the townsfolk watched in horror as they got a good look at their Benefactor.
With her skin flush and her hair and eyes wild from the fight, Blackheart looked the part of the idea that she instilled in the townsfolk: a woman possessed by devils and mad with hatred for all that lived. Tugging her right glove off, she smoothed her hair back into a coif with the elven blood on her sticky hands. The necromancer rose, straightened her black dress and wiped the blood off her blade with two fingers. She took that blood and put it in a vial, mumbling, "Every drop, every last drop will be used for my master."
"Madam, dear madam," a woman cried. She was a human woman with blonde hair, older looking than her thirty years. She held in her arms a frightened boy, no older than four. The necromancer turned to hear the woman plea, "By Toren, what have we done to deserve this?" Blackheart looked at the woman and the child in her arms. Suddenly, she struck the woman full in the face with an open-handed slap. The weary mother looked back with bewildered eyes as her Benefactor gave her the only answer she felt obliged to give her "subjects":
"The worst thing you could have done. Nothing."
Turning away, she spoke to the ghouls. "Save as much blood as you can."
As she closed the door behind her, the ravenous ghouls made a singsong growl as they attacked the screaming townspeople. Focusing on her next task, she headed to the near end of the basement hall beneath Blackheart Estates. A door stood there, made of local blackwood and covered in huge locks. Blackheart ignored that door and reached down for a pull ring that led to a sub-basement. She descended the dark stairs without tracing her hand on the stair well; so familiar she was with this path. The necromancer took stock of the sight that greeted her when she entered the room and was pleased with the results of her work.
Sloping downward towards an underground edifice at the far end of the room, the hewn earth walls of the sub-basement contained glowing green transparent cocoons that held the bodies of ghoul-ravaged townsfolk. The majority of their blood had been taken from them soon after their murder; now their bodies would be drained of the lingering blood and fed into the ribbed tubes that led to the building that the necromancer walked towards in a relaxed fashion.
Pushing open a set of doors, Blackheart entered her special sanctuary. The high wall carvings, recessed halls and benches resembled a temple to the great god Hamar and his Assistant Toren, but the symbol of the god was perverted to match that of the Benefactor's dark lord. The evil symbol resembled a slit eye with three tentacles reaching for the sky, prominently displayed on the altar. Carved into the tableau of the altar was a stone basin with a hole in the bottom. Blackheart tested the plumbing of the altar by casting a spell. Blood rose from the hole in the basin and brimmed at the opening. She cancelled the spell, knowing that the pipes and pressures were working, as they should.
Looking at the sanctuary, from the tapestries to the carvings close to the high celing, Blackheart felt a profound sense of accomplishment. It had taken so long to amass all this material to facilitate her master's arrival. She knew it would be worth it, for it was her master--her Benefactor--who had given her new purpose in life when she teetered on the edge of oblivion. The time would come so soon: she could hardly wait to release her master from the ethereal prison.
And then the world would know what she knew intimately.
The guy moving toward her looked familiar, but she couldn't place his face. She watched as he pushed past many filthy people--so filthy they stank like a graveyard--while his friends followed suit. They seem intent on getting to me, Inia thought. Then she remembered what Auntie told her about talking to strange men. Never one to betray Auntie, she hurried into Moira's Loom House.
Inia left the door open as she called out to Moira. A few ghouls passed by her and went inside, dragging in dirt and generally messing up the storefront. Some moved to the back and searched around in the workroom. One of them knocked over a bolt of black silk fabric, which rolled to the floor and unraveled before Inia's dazed eyes. The young woman recognized it as the same fabric that her Auntie wears. She picked up the cloth bolt and yelled out to Moira, "Moira, are you the one--
Her question was cut short by a shrill scream from the workroom. The ghouls emerged later dragging a thrashing Moira by her black hair. The elven woman screamed, "No, no, NO! Let me GO!" Tears streaming from her eyes, the seamstress screamed, "Inia! Help me! Save me!"
Inia ran over and tried to pry the elven woman's hair from the ghoul's cold, dead fingers. The ghoul's grip was tight as the grip of death, current company excluded. Her fingers fumbled over the loose flesh of the ghoul's rotting fingers, yet she made no progress in setting her employer free. Still thrashing as the ghouls dragged her out the door, Moira yelled, "SOMEBODY SAVE ME!!!"
Her head hit the ground sharply as the ghouls that were holding her keened a sharp wail and were cut apart by a sword of jagged rock. Moira looked up and saw the world upside down as two dark-skinned men charged into the front room and pulled her up by her hands. She wavered between them as one of them shouted outside the door, "One of you guys cover the door!"
"Got it, twerp!" a Halfling shouted back. "Barcrab! Watch your right!"
Swinging and clamping as much as he could, the Enigman Barcrab cleared a semicircle out of the advancing undead. The ghouls grabbed at him and tried to bite through his crimson carapace, but to no avail. Cyan fought at his side and lopped off many hands and heads, all to cover the door's entrance so that fool could be the hero. Looking over his shoulder, Cyan yelled, "You got her, Rashad?"
Rashad left Wyle and Moira and yelled back, "Yeah, we got her." He grabbed at the nearby Inia and said, "We gotta get you out of here, babe. Come with us." Inia looked at him with a confused look on her face, prompting him to say, "Oh just come already!" He grabbed her wrist and led her to Wyle.
"Alright, let's go," Wyle said. "We'll have to hold up in Shuya's house."
Rashad nodded. "Right, but first we have to get Shuya from Egress Bar."
Wyle stuck his head out and shouted to Cyan and Barcrab, "We gotta go to Egress Bar!"
"Wyle," Cyan shouted back, "You read my mind! I could use a stiff drink right now--"
"No, we gotta get Shuya, Donovan and Kitty! Clear us a path!"
"YOU GOT IT!" Barcrab said. Wyle and Rashad led their charges behind Cyan and the Enigman crab-man. The sextet plowed their way past many ghouls, showering the town streets with black ichor and fallen undead. The fight was furious on the way to the door to the Egress Bar, where an even larger number of ghouls waited for them. Barcrab looked ahead and saw the ghouls banging on the heavy door like angry drunks after last call. The door looked like it would give way at any moment. Barcrab could only watch in shock as the door began to ice over in huge shards…
Wait, Barcrab thought, doors don't ice over…
The Enigman rumbled the ground with a shout of "EVERYBODY DOWN!" The door to the Egress Bar exploded in a shower of ice shards and arctic wind, just as the six survivors hit the stained earth. The sharpened pieces of ice flew with such force; many ghouls lost their heads and limbs while others were pinned to the ground by the larger shards. Most of them were frozen solid on the spot, providing Donovan, Shuya and Kitty the opportunity to emerge from the Egress Bar.
Donovan had his ice axe planted on his shoulder, while Shuya carried a drinking mug in each hand. Kitty was none the worse for wear, and expressed it by saying, "Have no fear, Kitty's here."
"Thank Brash!" Cyan said. He pushed himself off the ground and headed into the bar. Wyle followed the Halfling inside with Moira in tow. Rashad said to Inia as she headed into the broken doorway, "I'll be right behind you, alright?"
"But--" Inia began only to have her comment cut short by a scream coming from the construction site. Shuya looked over and saw a figure fending off several ghouls with a shovel. Barcrab looked and said, "IT'S JOLLUM! HE NEEDS HELP!"
"Right," Shuya said. "Rashad, we gotta get Jollum to safety. Let's go."
Without a word, Rashad moved with Shuya and the Enigman crab-man as they advanced on the construction site of the Karmor's Bend town hall. When they got there, Jollum had taken many cuts and blows, and generally didn't look too good. Joining in the fray, the three rescuers cut a path to the foreman. Barcrab clamped and cleaved with his mighty claws, while Shuya tossed the contents of a drinking mug onto the undead mob. The chemical mixture set the ghouls aflame in blue fire, sending up blood-curdling screams into the sky. The screams were cut short by Rashad's Rock Sword cleaving open their heads and bodies. They eventually got to Jollum as he kneeled from the stress near his tent. Rashad said, "C'mon, old man, we're gonna go get drunk at the Egress Bar."
"Where are you taking me?" the Halfling asked. "My place is here, with my lot…"
"Never turn down a free drink. It's an insult." He put himself under the foreman's arm and said, "Trust me, you'll be good as--"
"Rashad, look out!" Shuya cried as a bony fist connected solidly with Rashad's jaw.
Sprawling on the floor in front of the tent, Rashad looked up at a body covered in rags and a skull glowering at him with red pinpricks of light. Unwilling to discover this beast's identity, he hopped up and swung his Rock Sword. The ragged skeleton blocked each of his sword strikes, and then landed another blow that knocked the Rock Sword from Rashad's grasp. The skeleton looked at the injured Rashad and said in a hissing tone, "DIE." It raised a boot to stomp the life out the man in front of him, but the skeleton's other leg was pulled out from underneath. The skeleton fell and looked at his new assailant: the frail halfling Jollum.
The foreman screamed, "You'll not have one of my workers, you understand me you bony bastard?" The ragged skeleton understood very well and smashed a fist into Jollum's face. The undead warrior righted himself and looked about for his prey, only to find that the human had escaped. The moment the skeleton began to move, a crimson claw smashed into his spinal column. Thrown back only a bit, it turned to the Enigman crab-man and struck. Barcrab tried to deflect the blow, but the bony fist cracked the claw he blocked with. As he clutched his cracked chela, the Enigman was left behind and the undead warrior searched the construction yard for his quarry.
Moving under the framework for the future town hall, the skeleton's red eyes looked about and saw Rashad standing by the stacks of slate. Its boots tromped past the inner columns, kicking up a cloud of dust as it rushed onward. Rashad couldn't see past the cloud and slowly moved to the slate bricks. He picked up a brick and threw it into the cloud, striking the creature in the right shoulder. Rashad threw again and again, throwing as many bricks as he could before the skeleton could emerge from the dust cloud. When the skeleton did emerge, it had no signs of outer damage other then the struck right shoulder. The skeleton hoisted a thrown brick and returned the favor. Rashad jumped clear as the missile struck the standing bricks with such force as to shatter them upon impact. Weary and showered with debris, he stood to meet the burning gaze of the skeleton warrior.
Unwavering in its intent, its bony hands clutched the front of Rashad's shirt and hissed, "DIE." As it reared back and prepared a punch that would end the human's life, a titanic stone ring fell from the top floor of the unfinished town hall and struck the ground behind the skeleton warrior. The skeleton paid it no mind as the stone ring fell forward, crushing the skeleton yet leaving Rashad unharmed. The bony arm still grasped at the front of his shirt, causing Rashad to hit the ground along with the fallen undead. He tried to pry himself from it, but was unable to wrench himself free. Rashad looked up to take a breath away from the dusty floor and saw Barcrab leap from the second story, falling towards him.
Rashad pulled himself free from the skeletal arm at the last moment as Barcrab landed on top of the thick stone ring with his amazing weight. The landing caused the broken bony arm to fly out, along with a heavy cloud of dust, to hit Rashad full in the face. The cloud of dust settled and the crimson crab-man asked, "YOU ALRIGHT?"
"Do I LOOK alright?" Rashad asked, spitting the dust in his mouth out while wiping dust from his face. As he wiped away the dust, he ripped away the bony arm that got caught in his hair. He slapped at his shirt as he walked, Barcrab in tow, to where Shuya and Jollum watched the entire fight. Rashad looked the foreman over and asked, "Can we move him?"
"We can't; he could die," Shuya said. "He's too badly injured."
"We're not leaving him, so help me move him."
"I GOT HIM" the Enigman spoke. Lifting his foreman with his uninjured arm, Barcrab hefted Jollum over his shoulder. The three of them headed straight for the Egress Bar, passing fallen ghouls with pierced bodies. Rashad and Barcrab made it inside with the injured Jollum, but Shuya looked behind her and was able to assess the ghoul situation.
Looking around, she saw that the ice shards pinning some of the ghouls down were melting in the sun. Those ghouls that were skewered on the melted ice began to pull themselves free, leaving black holes flush with ice water. The bartender shouted back into the bar, "Donovan! We need more ice!"
"Give me a moment," the ice mage shouted back. He ran up the stairs from the basement level of Egress Bar and shouted, "I-ki-zarra-pee-LON!" Ice shot from Donovan's hand and into the doorframe of the upper bar, filling the frame with ice crystals. The ice soon clogged the opening and the nearby floor, providing a barrier both rigid and frigid. Shuya turned to Donovan and thanked her boss, saying, "That'll make 'em want for the chill of the grave, eh?"
"Yeah, but we've got a small problem." Donovan led Shuya down to the basement where the rest of the survivors gathered, talking all the way.
"Remember what Rashad told us about his relationship with the Benefactor's daughter on the night of his induction?"
"Yeah," she said. "They supposed to be all lovey-dovey for each other, but everybody here knows that."
"Yes, we all do. It was written all over Rashad's face as to the nature of their relationship. We were gonna use that to our advantage when we finally took down Blackheart." Donovan turned to Shuya before opening the door and ended, "That was the plan."
"Wait…was the plan?" Shuya asked. "What happened" Did they break up or something?"
Opening the door to the drama in the underground bar, Donovan answered, "Not quite."
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 9
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