The ranger stared down at her boots. “I’ve been hunting Yzil so long, defeating him is all that matters to me anymore. If it will be enough to secure your aid, you can have the coins. They mean nothing to me.”
“Sorry.” Tira Shadow approached Kyra. “It must have been awful what you saw.”
“Good people died to that horror. With each passing day, the Devouring grows and more innocents suffer.”
“Is it going to kill us if we walk into it?” asked Docar.
“No.” Kyra shook her head, her long red hair dancing. “People who are accustomed to adversity can resist it. Peasants, the weak, the sick, or the old fade away if they spend too much time in the tainted lands.” She took Tira’s hand. “You’re barely past being a child yourself, yet you are brave beyond your years.”
Tira Shadow bowed her head, saluting with a fist to her chest. “I will help you avenge your friends.”
“Agreed,” said Fuegor. “We must put an end to this atrocity.”
Nasir rolled his eyes. “Yes. This is a great and tragic evil. It must be stopped.”
Docar chuckled at the warrior’s monotone plea. “Then let us make haste.”
“I can make haste,” said Fuegor. “I know that one.”
“Fool.” Tira Shadow giggled.
Fuegor smiled.
For two days, the group traveled. As darkness fell on the third day, the adventurers found themselves in another stretch of forest, surrounded by the trills of birds and the trampling of boars. When looking for a place to make camp for the night, Kyra stopped short and raised her hand in a signal to stop. She crouched low soon after, and pointed.
“Death approaches.”
“Uhh, what?” asked Nasir. “That sounds bad.”
Snapping in the underbrush drew closer.
Everyone readied their weapons. Tira Shadow ducked behind a tree.
A skeleton with a metal helmet and old, rusty chainmail armor strolled into view, its hollow eye sockets pointed at—the sound of a bouncing pebble rolled across the sky—Docar. It let off a loud hiss and surged up to an inhumanly fast stride.
Nasir bellowed a war cry and blurred into a smear of color that flew at the skeleton, intercepting it before it reached the chanter. When he came back into focus, both of his swords connected to the skeleton’s ribcage in mid-swing. The creature staggered from the strike, bits of bone flying, but didn’t go down.
It pivoted, slashing at Nasir, piercing his defenses as well as his chest with two rapid swings. Gurgling, Nasir backpedaled, close to collapsing as blood leaked from grievous wounds. Fuegor intoned a magical word and a brilliant orange bolt of fire connected his fingertips to the undead horror. Lit aflame, the skeleton wobbled around in a brief frenzy before it collapsed in a heap of loose, smoldering bones.
Nasir forced himself to smile, blood oozing over his lips. “Got a good piece of it at least.”
“You are in good hands, friend.” Docar ran to his side, his stony feet making deep thuds in the earth, placed both hands on Nasir’s shoulders, and cast two healing spells. With each pulse of light, the gashes in the warrior’s chest shrank, returning to intact skin when the glow dissipated.
Nasir straightened, coughed, and spat blood to the side. “Thank you.”
“There’s an opening in the ground over there,” said Kyra. “The skeleton’s tracks go right to it. Could be a nest of evil.”
“Or treasure.” Nasir strolled toward it.
Docar grabbed his shoulder, halting him. “Be mindful. All may not be as it appears.”
“There might be traps.” Tira Shadow hurried to the opening and squatted, tracing her fingers around the top step. Satisfied, she crept down one stair at a time, searching each one in turn. At the bottom, she stopped. “Careful! I see a pressure plate.”
Tira squatted a short distance in front of the stairwell. She took out one of her daggers and wedged it into the floor, using it to lever a board out of the way. Below it, a rock balanced on a glowing orange potion bottle. “If we stepped on that, it would’ve crushed the potion and boom.” She put the potion in the Bottomless Bag.
“Wait. You’re keeping a trap?” asked Docar.
She nodded. “I can throw it like a bomb.”
They crept onward behind Tira Shadow, who found two more traps, both tripwires she couldn’t salvage anything useful from. The last room contained a pair of skeletons as well as a bright purple crystal floating above a pedestal by the innermost wall. Nasir, Docar, and Fuegor hit the skeletons hard and fast, destroying them before the creatures could get a single swing in. Once the undead had been reduced to loose bones, Nasir strutted around, grinning.
Fuegor examined the crystal. “This crystal is creating skeletons. It is necromantic in nature, and has no useful purpose. We should destroy it.”
“How do we destroy a necromantic crystal?” asked Docar.
“Smash it,” said Kyra. “However, it may lash out with dark energy.”
“I’m tough.” Docar stepped forward. “My people are able to resist magic pretty well.”
Once the others backed up to give him room, the big healer spun his morningstar to build up speed before bringing it down on the apple-sized crystal, which shattered like glass while giving off a faint snap of white light. Docar grunted, but didn’t appear injured.
“This would make a defensible place to shelter for the night,” said Kyra. “As much as I’d prefer to be outside in fresh air, this room offers safety as well as concealment.”
“Agreed,” said Nasir.
The group set up camp in the underground room after searching the lone bookshelf and desk. Fuegor pocketed a silver wand, which he determined to contain an ice-based attack spell. Once certain the area held no further hazards or treasure, they settled down for the night.
In the morning, the party continued along their route. Within two hours, a strange sight came into view up ahead. A line stretched left and right as far as they could see. Beyond it, the land changed from a verdant green meadow to a black-and-white dirt field. Only a few scattered plants remained beyond the color shift, all withered.
“This is it,” said Kyra. “The edge of the Devouring. Past this point, all is touched by the Dark Wizard’s influence.”
No one else spoke as they advanced. Kyra crossed the border first, showing no ill effects. The others followed in single file. Grey sky overhead and black dirt underfoot left the adventurers the only source of color in the area.
“This is eerie,” said Tira Shadow.
“Yeah. Scary, too.” Docar clenched his morningstar. “We cannot let this keep growing.”
“Then, we shall continue,” said Kyra in a grim tone. “Be on guard. Some of my companions did not make it far past this place. There is a village ahead, which had not yet been engulfed at the time.”
“How fast is it growing?” asked Tira Shadow.
“Several feet per day.” Kyra nocked an arrow, advancing at a cautious pace. A steady breeze from the side made her hair and cloak flutter.
“My hair can flutter, too,” said a disembodied little girl. “It’s long.”
Tira Shadow’s silky, black hair caught the breeze as well.
Docar rubbed his bald head, and smiled while striking a dramatic pose that would’ve been perfect for long hair flowing in the wind. Fuegor chuckled.
No trace of a path remained on the other side of the Devouring, as all the ground had become dirt. Nonetheless, Kyra led the group onward, and they reached an abandoned village in a little less than an hour.
“You’re quite skilled at navigation,” said Docar.
Kyra gazed into the air with a far-off look. “It feels like it has been a long time since I’ve come hunting Yzil. Part of me thinks I’ve done it before. But I could not possibly have vanquished him, for he remains a threat to the land of Aldrenor.” She glanced among the others one by one. “I have memories of other trials, other creatures, yet I know such things could not have come to pass unless Yzil had been de
feated.”
“This wizard is still alive, but not for long.” Nasir patted the sword handle above his shoulder.
Tira Shadow pointed. “What’s that? In the street?”
The group moved forward, past small huts in the early stages of collapse. There, in what had once been the village square, lay a set of skeletal remains wrapped in leather armor with a bright red sash. A single-edged falchion lay near the dead person’s hand, coated in a thick layer of windblown dirt. Tira crouched beside the body and tugged a lyre out from under the ribcage.
“Lenessa the Bard,” said Kyra. “I remember her from our attempt to destroy Yzil. She perished in this village when we were set upon by skeletons.”
“Skeletons?” whispered Tira Shadow, while springing upright. Her gold eyes widened so much from fear she looked much younger than her fifteen years.
“I’m not that much of a chicken,” said an invisible little girl.
Tira Shadow’s eyes narrowed with confident determination.
“Much better,” chirped the nonexistent child.
“Be on guard!” shouted Kyra.
Wood shifted and fell. Rocks tumbled away from broken structures. All around them, eerie hissing and clattering arose. The village buildings and a ruined inn came alive as a small army of skeletons clawed their way out from under the debris. From the look of it, they had been the town guard; all wore chainmail armor and carried shields as well as longswords. In the blackened land touched by the Devouring, the raspy cries of a dozen lost souls swirled around them in streaks of phantasmal light. Spirit energy glowed from hollow eye sockets, and clattering jaws snapped with murderous hunger. A few scraps of rotting skin dangled from empty ribcages, swaying as the undead closed in.
Tira Shadow disappeared.
Fuegor looked around. “Where’d the thief go?”
“She’s hiding under the table,” said an invisible boy.
Docar scratched his head. “There is no table here.”
“No, I mean really under the table. My sister’s hiding,” said the invisible boy. “Dude, your description of those skeletons is freaky.”
“Sorry,” said Spirit Boy. “Look, consider Tira hidden since she made her stealth check for real.”
Tira Shadow reappeared a short distance away, crouched behind a broken building.
Nasir drew his swords and charged up to the nearest skeleton.
“Wait!” yelled Tira Shadow. “Don’t run up to them. You’ll get surrounded. Let them come to us.”
Everyone, including the skeletons, paused.
“Okay, fine,” said Spirit Boy.
Nasir slid back to where he’d been before running and adopted a defensive stance.
Some skeletons ran in. Nasir attacked the first one to reach him, by some miracle hitting with both swings and cutting it down. Fuegor’s fire bolt struck the torso of a skeleton still in the distance, destroying its spine and ribs. Skull, arm, and leg bones fell and stopped moving.
Tira Shadow drew a throwing knife, but frowned at it. She switched to her dagger and crept up behind one of the undead angling on Nasir. The instant she sprang into a strike, time froze.
“You can’t backstab a skeleton,” said an invisible boy. “It’s got nothing to stab.”
A little girl voice sighed. “There’s nothing in the rules that says I can’t.”
“It doesn’t make any sense!” said the same invisible boy, louder.
“It’s a game, not science,” muttered the little girl.
“Umm.” Spirit Boy mumbled for a few seconds before saying, “No specific immunity. She can backstab it.”
Time resumed, and Tira Shadow drove her dagger into the chainmail-covered back of a skeleton, which collapsed to pieces.
Another approaching skeleton pivoted at her with a raspy hiss and brought its longsword around in a wide slash. She let out a yelp of surprise and flung herself back. The sword whacked her across the chest, but didn’t cut her armor.
The hit knocked her staggering and gawping for air.
Nasir lunged at it with a furious roar, swinging both swords at once in a scissor strike. The skeleton raised its shield in the way of the warrior’s off-hand blade, but the broadsword in his right hand smashed into its shoulder, shattering the creature from the neck down.
After a grateful smile, Tira Shadow backed into the darkness yet again.
Three skeletons set upon Kyra, who deflected and dodged their attacks while keeping them penned in beside Nasir. Another pair broke through the wall of a crumbling hut, both defeating the warrior’s defenses and piercing his scale armor with their longswords. Bloodied, but still on his feet, Nasir groaned.
Docar chanted up an fist-sized sphere of white light, which he threw into Nasir’s back. The warrior’s stab wounds shrank but remained visible, though his posture straightened.
Tira Shadow’s eyes narrowed. She flashed a sinister grin and stuck her hand in the Bottomless Bag, waiting.
Fuegor picked off another from the group that had yet to run in. His fire bolts seemed quite capable of destroying them in one hit.
“Stay close to Nasir,” yelled Docar, while casting a spell into the ground at the warrior’s feet. A large glowing circle of golden light filled with fancy runework appeared. “The power of Hæm shall weaken the undead within the ward.”
More skeletons rushed in, crawling up out of the ground and dragging themselves from beneath collapsed roofs.
Kyra attacked with her swords, swinging into a dervish of flashing destruction. Her first two swings broke one skeleton to pieces, and her second set of strikes tore off one arm and most of the ribs of another. Every so often when she stabbed her shortsword into one of their skulls, she seemed to speed up, attacking again with the shortsword, almost too fast to see.
Three more skeletons crowded closer, avoiding the circle and heading to Docar and Fuegor.
Nasir swung his primary weapon over the skull of the skeleton Kyra mangled, but his off-hand blade caught it in the spine a few inches above the waist, breaking it in half. A second later, the twitching bones ceased moving.
Tira Shadow leaned out of her hiding place and hurled a glowing orange potion bottle—the guts of the exploding trap. The flask tumbled end over end toward the crowd of skeletons stuck in the street, but hit Nasir in the back of the head, expl—
“Wait. I’m lucky!” shouted an invisible little girl. “I’ve got the ‘Scoundrel’s Luck’ ability. Twice a day I can reroll something.”
The expanding cloud of flames collapsed back into the bottle and it reversed part way to Tira Shadow’s outstretched hand before going forward again and landing perfectly in the crowd of skeletons.
A heavy thud shook the air as an explosion bloomed out into a brilliant cloud of flames. Light and heat washed over the village, making Nasir, Docar, Kyra, and Fuegor cringe. The edge of the burning sphere stopped expanding a half a foot away from Nasir, but ignited the backs of both skeletons trying to swing at him. The flame ball remained for barely three seconds, then faded to reveal charred bones instead of moving skeletons.
Only one remained, which promptly impaled its longsword in Fuegor’s chest. The elf wheezed and fell flat on his back, unconscious. Roaring, Docar rushed at it, swinging his morningstar in a wild, upward stroke that detonated the skeleton into a cloud of flying fragments.
Quiet settled over village quiet once more.
“Fuegor!” shouted Tira Shadow. “No!”
“He yet lives.” Docar took a knee and placed his hand on the wizard’s injury.
Blood welled up between his great, grey fingers. The Genndi chanted his intonations to Hæm and a flare of golden light surrounded the elf, though he didn’t stir. Docar repeated the spell, and when the light faded, Fuegor moaned. After a third healing chant glowed and subsided, the wizard opened his eyes.
“I shall remind myself next time to duck,” said Fuegor.
Nasir, Kyra, and Tira Shadow all exhaled in relief.
13
&n
bsp; Cupcakes
Carlos leaned back in his chair, covering his face with both hands. He pulled them down, stretching his eyes. “Holy crap! That was a crit and a half.”
“Dude.” Elliot shook his head. “That was all your health points in one hit.”
Keith offered a sheepish smile. Knowing that the skeleton’s maximum possible damage on a crit couldn’t have killed the wizard, he didn’t fudge the roll. Surviving such a hit made for a dramatic moment.
“How’d it do thirty three damage with a stinkin’ longsword?” asked Ashur. “My guy’s got broadswords and I’m lucky to get fifteen damage.”
“You’re damage is 1d12, and +4 from strength,” said Tira. “You max out at sixteen. Longswords aren’t that much worse, on d10s. Skeletons have a triple critical special ability. It really did eleven damage.”
Elliot stared at Tira in disbelief.
“I wanna crit something,” said Ashur.
“That would require rolling over an eight.” Tira sounded sympathetic, so he merely sighed.
“Yo, thanks, man.” Carlos patted Elliot on the back. “Sweet heals.”
“No problemo.” Elliot scraped a bit of baked ziti off his plate into his mouth, and kept talking despite chewing. “But I’m almost outta magic points. We’re gonna need to rest soon.”
“You could do that ‘meditate’ thing,” said Ashur. “Get all your magic points back. Chanter ability, right?”
“Mmm.” Elliot swallowed. “Yeah, but that’s like for emergencies. Middle of a fight type thing. Don’t wanna waste it since it’s a seventy-two hour cooldown.”
“Eep!” shouted Tira.
Her sudden, loud, and high-pitched voice made everyone jump. They all stared at her standing by the closet.
“What?” yelled Keith.
She pointed with her toe at the floor. “The rug’s wet. And it’s cold.”
Carlos held his hands up. “I didn’t spill anything.”
Keith leapt out of his chair and ran over, sliding to a stop on his knees. He patted around the spot, but couldn’t locate anything unusual. “Where?”
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