Apart from the two leaders, the group all wore quilted linen jackets that had seen better days. They were hardly up to the standard of Gronchard’s Myrmidons. Bounty hunters, then.
The wind picked up again, and the sword sang.
The hunters had left it untouched. That was wise of them, given that it could have been some kind of magical trap. However, in this case leaving the sword in place would mean their deaths.
Zahna rose, cup in hand, and—careful not to spill the precious tea—made a little bow and spoke over the hiss of the wind. “Welcome, friends.”
They exchanged glances, then the cataphract moved to the front. He brought out a parchment and coughed. When he spoke, his steel visor gave his voice an unearthly echo. “His Divinity Gronchard, God of the Flying Tooth Garden, Emperor of the Blessed Magisterium, bids you, the Sacred Angelica, his lost beloved, come with us so that you may take your rightful place in his arms for all eternity.”
Zahna gulped down the tea. It scalded the back of her throat, but the world came alive.
Tea. Charmed; “Illuminate”.
Potestas reset and boosted.
12 of 6 Potestas.
The bounty hunters began to close.
New Form 5.
“A moment, of you please,” she said. “Let me set down this cup—it is an heirloom.”
The cataphract gestured at the youngest member of the party, a youth in a resplendently white shirt. “Go on kid. Help the Princess pack up her belongings.”
On older woman, who carried an axe slung on her back, caught the boy’s arm. “You be careful, love. Warlocks are slippery.”
Ignoring the advancing boy, Zahna stooped to place the porcelain cup on a stone. She grabbed her staff, and rose, throat-chanting the Backwards Remembering spell.
“Oh shit,” said the boy, backing away so fast he tripped on a rock.
Current Form 5.
You are performing Wizard at level 9.
Using Cantrip Backwards Remembering. Cost 1 Potestas. 11 Potestas remaining.
Challenge = 2 (Tactical)+ 2 (Path) = 4
Result = 9 + 0 (Luck) -4 (Challenge) = 5. Coup.
Tactical Effect = Double Advantage when Manoeuvring for Duration of Fight.
Zahna’s staff blurred with possibility so she took the hint and whirled it.
The mailed netman took a step forward. “Rush her you fucking wankers!”
Chapter 22: The Screaming Flame Skull of Implacable Vengeance!
Crossbow bolt. Medium Range. Off Target.
Another missile zipped past, thwacked into one of the mummies up ahead.
Ingar swore. “Probably poisoned.”
Torstag held the shield to the back of his head and kept running. He and Ingar’s sandals slapped the floor so that the echoes sounded like a hundred fleeing acolytes, not a mere two.
Crossbow bolt. Medium Range.
On Target.
Missile Result = 1 (Fortune)
Missile Effect = 1 (Result) +0 (Light Crossbow) -2 (Dodging) -1 (Small Shield) = 0.
A bolt clanged on the shield making the handle twist in his hand.
Torstag levelled the burning forearm of Berotspan the Marshal.
The flames streamed back toward his hand. He thrust the burning limb against the next mummy, and the next.
Now fire cast long shadows ahead of them as they hurled themselves deeper into the catacombs.
They turned into a great transverse tunnel and jogged up into a warm breeze.
Every so often, Torstag slowed to ignite another mummy. The third time he did it, a crossbow bolt struck the stone just above his head.
Crossbow bolt. On Target.
Missile Result = 3 (Fortune)
Missile Effect = 3 (Result) +0 (Light Crossbow) -2 (Dodging) = Miss.
Torstag looked at the little white patch of chipped stone. “How is the smoke not making a difference?”
“Stop fucking around and run!” cried Ingar.
The corridor curved, giving them some cover, then climbed free of the ranks of mummies into daylight. Ahead of them a patch of yellow glare illuminated on an assembly of odd contraptions. As they closed the distance, Torstag’s eyes grew accustomed to the light and the machines started to resemble mechanical bats. Beyond them beckoned a disk of blue sky.
1 Exertion incurred.
1 of 4 Vitality remaining.
Torstag glanced back.
Half a dozen monks emerged from the smoke. None of them carried a source of light. Instead, each had a human eyeball mounted on the stock of his crossbow, all except for Brother Neutrality.
That monk instead carried a mummified dog’s head on a stick.
The dog head howled. The sound carried with it the cold stench of the grave.
A monk dropped to one knee, raised his crossbow.
Torstag shouted. “Dodge!”
They threw themselves behind one of the leathery machines.
Crossbow bolt. On Target.
Missile Result = 2 (Fortune)
Missile Effect = 2 (Result) +0 (Light Crossbow) -3 (Dodging, Partial Cover) = -1.
There was a distant twang! The quarrel buzzed past harmlessly.
“Quick, while they reload,” said Torstag.
They broke into a final sprint. They passed a second winged machine. A third was positioned with its nose just short of the disk of blue sky.
“Come on!” yelled Ingar.
Torstag grabbed his collar and they both came to a halt with the edge of the portal at their toes. It opened out far, far above a broken land of rock and sand that stretched to the horizon.
Torstag looked down.
Beneath him, the cliff fell away a thousand feet to a desert with rock formations like piled shards of earthenware pottery.
The cliff is a Level 12 challenge.
“TORSTAG!” Brother Neutrality’s voice echoed from the cavern. The words seemed to resound in Torstag’s soul. “COME HERE AND SURRENDER”
Test of Potestas, 6. Enemy attempting hostile command.
Performing Necromancer at Level 6.
Enemy Result = 8 (Challenge) +1 (Luck) -6 (Your Performance) -2 (Resisting) = 1.
Enemy Effect = 1 Potestas Lost. 5 of 4 remaining.
Torstag strained against the tug of obedience. The world became less sharp, but he resisted the call.
“Fuck you, Smelly Newt,” yelled Ingar. He tossed his arm-torch onto one of the furthest machines. It caught instantly. As the flames whooshed up to engulf the stretched skin, Ingar pulled the arm of Lashton the Necromancer out of his belt and whacked Torstag with it. “And fuck the goat you rode in on.”
Relic of past avatar.
Surge.
Torstag staggered.
6 points of Advancement available.
Warrior, Twitch 4/6 secured. 2 points remaining.
Select a 7th Warrior Feat to study.
On one of Warrior Tree’s branches, a knight carved his way through countless enemies.
Rampage unlocked at 2/6 Grasp.
2 points of Advancement available. Select a Vocation.
Warrior.
Select Hurl 4/6 or Rampage 2/6.
Hurl was an easy win, but Rampage looked more useful.
Rampage advances to 4/6 Grasp.
Potestas reset and boosted.
Vitality reset.
You are Torstag, Human Warlock, Youth, Agile, Sensitive, Bold, Marked.
Potestas 8/4. Will 2. Horror of the Unquiet Dead 1/6.
Vitality 4. Toughness 2.
Vocations:
Cleric, 1 (Learned): Mediation, Repel Shade 2/6.
Warlord 0: Tea Drinking 2/6.
Warrior, 2 (Brawl, Sidearm, Shield): Wrath Strike +1, Split Shield, Disarm, Twitch, Hurl 4/6, Rampage 4/6.
Scout 2 (Mountain, Forest, Jungle): Climb +1, Spider Climb, Sneak
Necromancer 1 (Cantrips): Repel Shade, Shade Cloak 3/6, Manifest Shade 4/6.
Various General Skills including Meditate.
Form 5.
Necromancer!
You are performing Necromancer at level 6.
The tunnel was remarkably clear of ghosts; just a single man in weird costume with a coil of rope over one shoulder and brimmed hat. Nor was the tunnel webbed by threads except those connecting him to the limbs of his past selves.
However, spectral faces roiled across the wings of the machines…faces that whimpered and groaned, “Free us! Free us!”
Possessed by Shades. Enchanted.
Wrestling with Horror of the Despairing Dead 2/6, cost 2 Potestas, 6 of 4 Remaining.
Will 2 Overcome. You have Hindrance “Horrified”.
Torstag dropped the burning arm of his last avatar, put his free hand over one ear. He lifted the shield and pressed his knuckles to the other ear.
It didn’t help.
“TORSTAG!” Brother Neutrality repeated. “COME HERE AND SURRENDER”
Test of Potestas, 8. Enemy attempting hostile command.
Performing Necromancer at Level 6.
Enemy Result = 8 (Challenge) +0 (Luck) -6 (Your Performance) -2 (Resisting) +2 (You are Horrified) = 2.
Enemy Effect = 2 Potestas loss, 4 of 4 Remaining.
“Don’t just stand there. Fucking do something!” yelled Ingar.
Crossbow bolt. On Target.
A crossbow bolt whipped past beween raised forearm and neck, tore a strip out of his cheek. Pain sheeted over his face.
Missile Effect = 3 (Fortune) + 0 (Light Crossbow) -2 (Cover) = 1.
Test of Toughness 2. Poison resisted.
3 out of 4 Vitality remaining.
Blood spilled down his neck, soaked his chest.
Beyond the smoke most of the monks were reloading their crossbows. Brother Neutrality, however, strode towards them.
Torstag tossed the torch.
Fire crackled from the wing and spread out. The shades screamed and writhed into the smoke, which blew back down the tunnel toward the monks.
“Come on!” yelled Ingar.
Test of Will, 2. Hindrance “Horrified” shaken off.
Somehow, he mastered himself just enough to function. Torstag caught Ingar’s arm. “Into this one.”
Still clutching the spiked mace, Ingar squirmed into the seat. “Can you make it fly?”
“Absolutely!” Torstag ditched his shield.
He clambered in next to his friend. The wickerwork supports creaked ominously.
“You’re too heavy!” said Ingar.
A crossbow bolt skimmed the stone floor. Another went up through the wing above their heads.
“Shades!” bellowed Torstag. “Fly us out of here!”
Performing Necromancer at level 6.
The shades screamed. “Free us! Free us!” Unwanted memories squirmed into his head.
Torstag threw back his head and bellowed, “FLY YOU DOGS, FLY!”
Tormented shades howling, the Tomb Bat flapped its wings once, twice, and took off.
“Out of here!”
The Tomb Bat lurched through the portal and soared out under the desert sky while the hot wind howled around them, and the distant ground became more distant.
Torstag roared with a mix of terror and glee while his heart tried to hammer its way out of his ribcage and his wounded cheek throbbed.
The Tomb Bat levelled off.
Torstag sat back. “We escaped!”
“But where to?” asked Ingar.
Whatever Realm they were in, it was late afternoon and the sun cast a shadow ahead of them on the rock-strewn ground far below. A glowing thread connected Torstag’s sternum with something concealed by an outcrop of rocky badlands that rose out of the desert to the east of them.
“Follow that thread,” ordered Torstag.
The Tomb Bat swung to obey.
“What thread?” asked Ingar over the roar of wind. “If it’s a thread it will lead to the Girl!”
“We’ll survive five minutes in a desert without supplies. Do you have any better ideas?”
Ingar turned away. He twisted in his seat and shouted something incoherent
Torstag risked a glance.
Behind, the portal was a dark circle in the side of a weathered spire of rock that seemed ready to catch the setting sun on its summit.
Links webbed the air. One of them—a writhing thing of teeth and bones—was particularly strong. It connected their Tomb Bat to another Tomb Bat that seemed to be catching up fast.
Ingar leaned close. “They’re after us!” he yelled. “We should have wrecked all the machines.”
“Watch this,” said Torstag. “Turn back.”
The Tomb Bat swung around to face west and the spire of rock.
Ingar grabbed his arm. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Torstag ignored him and focussed on the distant enemy.
Using Necromancy Cantrip Manifest Shade 4/6, cost 2 Potestas. 3 Potestas Remaining.
Challenge = 0 (Shades) +2 (Dozens) +2 (As Poltergeists) +0 (Existing Link) = 4
Result = 6 (Performance) +0 (Luck) -4 (Challenge) = 2.
Effect = Shades manifest as poltergeists for a watch or so.
Manifest Shade advanced to 5/6.
He had a sense of the captive shades tearing themselves free of the construction, then the link was gone.
The other Tomb Bat fell out of the sky.
“Fuck you Smelly Newt!” said Ingar over the roar of the wind.
It smashed into the rocks. Something flashed.
Torstag. “They’ll haul his body back to the catacombs and snag him when he reincarnates.”
“So basically he’s fucked for all eternity,” said Ingar.
Torstag raised his voice. “Return to following the thread again.”
“We’ll return to the monastery some day,” yelled Ingar.
“With fire and steel!” replied Torstag.
“What?” said Ingar, leaning close.
“Um…” said Torstag. “That just seemed appropriate.”
The Tomb Bat swung back to an easterly course. Torstag squirmed around to keep an eye on the crash site.
The wicker supports groaned and bowed.
“Be careful,” said Ingar. Then louder, “What the fuck is that?”
Something bounced out of the wreckage of Brother Neutrality’s craft; something that trailed smoke.
Screaming Flame Skull of Implacable Vengeance.
“Screaming Flame Skull of Implacable Vengeance,” repeated Torstag.
“Oh, that’s all right then,” said Ingar. “No, wait…it’s not! Make this thing go faster.”
“Faster”, ordered Torstag.
The Tomb Bat wings kept up their steady beat.
The flaming skull bounced closer across the landscape, trailing fire as it went, steadily gaining on them.
“Not going to work,” he said.
“We’re fucked!” said Ingar.
“We’ll handle it. More details.”
The Screaming Flame Skull of Implacable Vengeance is a Necromantic enchantment deriving its power from the death of the caster. It pursues and attacks unremittingly until either it or the slayer is destroyed. Repelling it is a level 10 challenge.
“Bad news,” said Torstag. “It’s higher level than I can cope with. Good news, it’s only after me.”
“Yes,” said Ingar, “but I’m sitting next to you, and you’re the one person that can steer this hell bird.”
“Bat,” said Torstag. “It’s a Tomb Bat, not ‘Bird’.” He slipped the war knife out of his belt. “I’m sure we can dodge the skull.”
The thing bounced up out of the landscape, drawing an arc of smoke behind it.
Torstag raised the knife. “When I say dodge—damn!”
It really was Brother Neutrality’s skull, except now it had pale, flaking, skin and wide eyes that blazed as red as the flames that now served as hair.
Wrestling with Horror of the Despairing Dead 2/6, cost 3 Potestas, 0/4 remaining.
Will 2 overcome.
Hindrance, �
�Disquieted” incurred.
“Dodge!”
Nothing happened.
He had the fleeting thought that the Tomb Bat would only respond to very specific commands. Then Brother Neutrality’s grinning face bobbed up in front of him and screamed, a sound like icicles being hammered into his teeth. Flames streamed back and tickled the human parchment making up the underside of the wings.
A burning tongue shot out from Brother Neutrality’s distended lips.
Torstag hacked at it with his knife—
Current Form 5.
Performing Warrior at level 7.
Result = 7 (Performance) -2 (“Disquieted”) +1 (Luck) -6 (Enemy Challenge) = 0.
Enemy uses Entangle Feat as a tiebreaker.
Enemy Result = 6 (Challenge) +2 (Feat) -1 (Luck) +2 (You are “Disquieted” -7 (Your Performance) = 2
The tongue, whipped around his neck, seared his flesh.
Enemy Effect = 2 Vitality lost,
1 out of 4 Vitality remaining.
“Get it off get it off!”
Ingar twisted in his seat, wafted his spiked mace ineffectually.
The head released Torstag and wrapped its tongue around Ingar like a bolas.
Ingar screamed and, with a twist in his seat, threw a punch. His fist connected, stopped the Screaming Skull.
The Jungle Tomb of the Ice Queen (The Flying Tooth Garden Book 1) Page 15