Legend of the Sword Bearer: Tempest Chronicles Book 1

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Legend of the Sword Bearer: Tempest Chronicles Book 1 Page 8

by Jeremy Fabiano


  “Morogan still worry. Some deadmans left. Mother say deadmans chase party three days three nights. No sleep. No rest. Just run. Or die. Deadmans chase to Orc village. Orcs kill deadmans. Burn deadmans. Morogan think some deadmans in city. Aba careful. Not die. Morogan sad if Aba is deadmans, but Morogan burn if have to. Morogan promise.”

  The tent flap opened and Garstil entered, drenched. Using one of the unoccupied areas of the tent, he shed his outer clothing and sat next to the fire, checking the food. “I too promise to take care of either of you if you should turn into one of those beasts. I’d expect the same from the two of you.” We all nodded in agreement. Better dead than undead. Garstil served us some of his stew in bowls, and we sat back enjoying the warmth of the fire. “Eat up. We’ll need it. The temperature’s dropped some more. It’s not quite freezing, but it’s close.”

  “How was the necklace?” I asked, curious.

  Garstil nodded. “Nothing to report. The rain is getting much worse, but I could still see quite a ways using the necklace. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for the entire party, however big it gets, to eventually have some sort of night vision such as this.”

  Morogan and I nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to do something about that at some point. It’ll likely be pretty expensive, but over time, I think we’ll be able to afford it.”

  We ate in silence, listening to the crackling fire and the wind and rain against the canvas. After we’d cleaned up, I added another log to the fire. “We should get some rest. Morogan, do you want second or third watch?”

  He looked thoughtful for a few moments. “Morogan watch after Garstil. Aba sleep. Aba big day tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good. Hopefully, we won’t have any surprises tonight. All right let’s turn in then.” With that, Garstil nodded to us, tightened his jacket and stepped out into the night. Morogan and I turned in, pulling our bedrolls tight around us. I was instantly asleep. The trip had taken a lot out of us so far and we were all exhausted.

  Someone was shaking me. “Huh? What’s going on?”

  “Aba wake. Aba turn for watch.” Morogan shook me some more, and I slowly came to.

  I stretched and got up. “All right, all right.” I grabbed leathers and put on the heavy jacket and cloak over the sword latch. The hole I’d cut fit perfectly over it, and I was able to mount my sword without impeding the release mechanism. Morogan handed me his necklace, and I could feel my muscle mass increase as its effects kicked in.

  “Aba careful. Morogan hear noises far away. Morogan not sleep. Maybe clean up.” He looked genuinely spooked. That couldn’t be good. Morogan began cleaning up his bedroll and packing it away, his weapons and gear still on him. Definitely not good.

  “I’ll be careful. Try to get some rest.” He nodded. I pulled my coat tight and latched my sword. It felt a bit lighter for sure. I definitely needed to get some more strength-boosting gear for myself. I opened the tent flap, and the wind almost ripped it out of my hand. Stepping through the opening, I secured the flap with its hook. The wind pelted rain and sleet into my face, and I had to shield my eyes against the onslaught of ice shards. Luckily, the leather protected me from most of it. I turned and looked out into the darkness. After a moment, my eyesight adjusted, and I could clearly see into the distance. Looking around, I saw nothing, but it definitely felt like I was being watched.

  I scanned in every direction I could but didn’t see anything besides rocks and skeletons. It wouldn’t take much to hide from my eyesight in this weather. Any of the skeleton piles could hide a small group of enemies. I could have sworn I heard something upwind of my position, but I couldn’t see much facing the rain and sleet that were being pelted in my eyes. Hiding upwind in a rainstorm almost had the same effect as attacking with the sun behind you. It completely blinded the person being attacked. I’d have to remember that for the future if I ever wanted to ambush someone. I heard the noise again. Chills ran up and down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. This felt just like at the river.

  I walked a ways from the tent to try to get a better view of what was out there. The wind blowing water and ice in my face kept me squinting in pain. Instinct took over. I was willing power into my blade before I even had it detached from my back. The blade swung over and I brought it down as hard as I could. The extra strength from the ring considerably increased its momentum. The glowing blade and arcing tendrils of lightning illuminated some hideous body as I cleaved it in two. The pieces fell to the ground with a horrid screech. A second one came up right behind it and nailed me in the gut, sending me flying. It started sprinting toward the tent as I regained my feet. I jumped as hard as I could, triggering Dash at the same time. My trajectory intercepted the monster, but it dodged me at the last second. I inverted my grip on the blade and slashed upward, maiming it. Or so I believed. A leg went flying off, but it didn’t seem to slow it down as much as I would have thought. Hopping on one leg, it came at me as if nothing was wrong with it. I took the other leg just for good measure and jumped back several feet, landing in a crouch.

  For a moment, it didn’t move. Slowly, it lifted its head toward me, red eyes glowing in the night, illuminating the raindrops that fell between us. With a purpose, it surged forward, clawing its way across the soaked ground, mud splattering in every direction. I swear to God, this was some freaky Terminator shit. I wasn’t having any of it. I rushed forward and decapitated whatever it was. Roars and movement drew my attention back to the tent. Morogan was wrestling with another one just in front of the tent entrance. Brilliant white light shone like a beacon through the hole in the top of the tent and the tent flap. Morogan bashed the creature with his shield and jumped back just as lightning surged from the tent, vaporizing the body Morogan had gotten entangled with.

  “What the hell are those things?!” I shouted over the rainstorm, approaching my party members.

  Morogan shook himself off. “Deadmans,” he bellowed.

  Garstil, much more composed than either Morogan or myself, hollered to me, “We should break camp. There’s no telling if there are more of them out here.”

  I agreed, and we cautiously packed everything up and were on our way in about twenty minutes or so. Fear and self-preservation were great motivators. I gave Garstil the necklace since he had the only ranged attacks in our party. Strategically, we made our way across The Desolate Lands under the cover of darkness, sprinting from cover to cover as we were able. Dawn was still a couple hours away, but we were sure these zombies, for lack of a better word, could see just fine out here in the dark.

  A bolt of green lightning lit up the horizon. It struck a pile of skeletons a few hundred feet in front of us. Bones exploded in all directions, and from the pile stood four skeletons, eye sockets glowing crimson red.

  Garstil held up his hands, palms facing each other. A glowing ball of arcane energy formed between his outstretched palms. The raging power he was holding back could be felt like a bass drum vibrating my soul. Without effort, he simply thrust his hands toward the skeletons. The deathball of arcane energy, literally the power of creation, blasted toward the skeletons walking toward us. After a blinding flash, there was nothing left of them, the pile, or the ground. A fifty-foot-wide smoking crater was all that remained. Even the raindrops had been vaporized. It was almost five full seconds before it began raining in the crater again. Morogan and I had been blown over and landed on our asses. We quickly regained our feet.

  Scanning in every direction, Garstil lowered his hands, the glow fading. “It’s a safe bet someone knows we're here. And doesn’t want us around. That green lightning was necromantic magic. They’re out here, somewhere.”

  “How much mana did that spell cost?” I was hoping he could possibly fire off a few shots like that if needed.

  Garstil looked pensive for a second. “About thirty percent. I can usually fire off three or four arcane blasts before I’m spent. It really depends on bonuses and perks. I have a few mana vials if needed, but with my natural recharge r
ate, I’ll be at max mana in a few minutes.”

  I nodded, and we continued toward the city, eyes in every direction at once. Garstil took a few potshots off into the distant blackness and vaporized a few more zombies and skeletons as needed.

  The rain grew heavier if that was even possible. Green lightning hit the ground somewhere off in the distance. A death rattle screeched in the night. We could taste the menace in the air, and the water visibly rippled. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the top of the city’s defense wall. Atop it stood a creature of nightmares, backlit against the horizon. Twenty feet tall, it had scythe-like blades for forearms. The creature jumped from the two-hundred-foot wall and hit the ground in a run. A mile away, we still felt the ground shake.

  “Huh. I just had an idea!” Garstil smiled. “Aba, you ever watch anime?”

  “Yeah?” I asked, slightly confused.

  “You’ll like this then. Buy me a few minutes; I’ll hit it with the new skills I picked up when I hit level five.” Morogan, confused, went with it. I nodded, and we both stepped forward into a guard position. The creature was coming like a freight train, intent on ensuring our demise.

  Electricity began to arc all around Garstil and into the ground near him. Pebbles literally began to quiver and float around him as he gathered all his mana at once. I half-expected him to start screaming as he ‘powered up,’ but he only kept his face tight in concentration, eyes closed. Flames, both blue and white, erupted around him and surrounded his body in an aura of pure power. The pebbles that had been floating instantly turned to dust, and the hair on my arms stood on end. He moved his hands to his right side as if cupping a ball between them. It almost looked like some sort of Tai Chi.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said, deadpan serious.

  Garstil opened his eyes, and brilliant white light shone from them. “Toriyama is God,” he bellowed.

  I instantly got the reference. “Morogan! Dodge!” We both dove out of the way just as Garstil thrust both hands forward. A massive energy wave blew past us, obliterating a trench in the ground thirty feet wide, at the speed of light. It was daytime for a few seconds, but we were completely blinded by the energy and had to shield our eyes. The charging creature didn’t waver. Headfirst, it ran into the energy wave and continued charging on, only barely slowing. The thrum of power emanating from Garstil was disorienting. Indescribable. The creature didn’t seem to care in the least. Garstil lowered his right hand, keeping the energy wave flowing from his left, and then tossed out eight super-sized arcane blasts in rapid fire.

  We’d regained our feet just as the monster was about to trample us. It cackled, eyes glowing crimson.

  “Well, shit on me,” Garstil murmured. And then our world turned to pain as the monster bowled all three of us over, sending us flying.

  8

  Shrine of the Sword Bearer

  I awakened to the sounds of screaming and roaring and thunder. I managed to gain purchase on the ground in time to see an electrified body flying straight at my face. Garstil knocked me head over heels and sprawled on top of me.

  “Heavy magic resistance. Can’t touch it.” He puffed, out of breath. We untangled ourselves and stood. Morogan was going toe to scythe with the monster, trying to buy us some time.

  “All right then. My turn.” I pulled my sword out, leveled it parallel to the ground, and inverted grip with the tip behind me. No. This wasn’t a good idea, not by a long shot. I ran for the creature as fast as I could. A few blasts of energy shot past me, providing a distraction at the least. Morogan, upon seeing me charge in, shield-bashed the creature in the face with all his weight and jumped back. The creature roared with rage and swung with both arms at Morogan. As soon as those scythe arms flashed toward him, I triggered Dash and swung outward in a horizontal arc with every ounce of strength I had. My massive blade severed both arms and cut a deep gash through its chest. Death screams echoed throughout the tundra, rattling rocks and bones alike. The momentum carried me through, and I tumbled end over end, trying not to slice myself open on my own sword.

  My world spinning, I caught sight of Morogan as he took advantage and jumped back into place, triggering Steel Fortitude. White energy exploded from Morogan, and he grew to his twelve-foot-tall, very muscular form. He let out a massive roar and charged forward, dodging bites and kicks with his enhanced reflexes. He brought his mace overhead and swung down with everything he had. The mace smashed down hard on the monster’s head with a sickening crunch. The body of the massive creature slumped to the ground, its skull bleeding nasty ichor, mixing with the flowing rainwater.

  “What the hell is this thing?” I asked, panting as I strode over to it.

  Morogan looked at it for a second. “Nightmare.” He spat on its corpse and returned to normal size, aura fading away.

  Garstil, looking quite exhausted, looked at me, face very serious. “I take it you’ve seen Zombieland?”

  I nodded. I raised my blade executioner style and beheaded the beast. “Double tap, bitch.” I looked off into the distance at the city wall, now highlighted by the storm-covered dawn. It was still dark, but the clouds were just starting to give off some light. I pointed to the top of the wall, and my party noticed the hooded figure who hesitated for a moment, sizing us up, and then turned away, retreating from view.

  “Necromancer.” Garstil looked concerned. “If one of them is capable of animating something like this, imagine facing off against the small group of them that originally participated in the war.”

  I shivered. I couldn’t imagine it. We needed more power. A lot more. We gathered ourselves up and continued our way toward the great walls of the city. The rest of the trip to the outer city wall was mostly uneventful with only a few random zombies patrolling the grounds.

  Water cascaded down a massive gaping hole in the protective outer wall of the city. The once great wall had protected the city, but here, the massive truck-sized stones were literally blown out. Ages old sand and gravel covered the ground, and water flowed in streams from the tops of the wall. Nothing stirred. We quietly passed the broken shield wall and entered the outskirts of the City of Lost Angels.

  We cautiously moved forward, climbing over rocks as necessary. We proceeded up what looked like the main thoroughfare. An actual asphalt paved street. Looking behind us, I could see the outward blast of the shield wall. I followed the destruction from the blast trajectory and realized that it had entered from the other end of the city and ended at the outer wall. The buildings had detonated outward at the same angle all the way through as if some sort of beam had punched through everything. We could see normally now, dawn coming to its full effect. The rain still poured as hard as ever, but it didn’t matter; We could see perfectly. Garstil gave Morogan back the necklace. It looked funny to me seeing them literally transfer muscle mass.

  Rubble shifted from a building to our left, and two zombies charged out, heading straight for Morogan. Strength returned, he grinned menacingly and spun in a blur. His shield decapitated both zombies, heads rolling away and bouncing off a giant piece of stone. He took point position as we moved deeper into the ancient city, eyes searching in all directions at once.

  After almost a mile of tense quiet, I broke the silence. “Garstil, was this city inspired by Los Angeles? The buildings seem to fit, and with a name like City of Lost Angels, it makes one wonder.”

  Garstil nodded. “The development team lived in L.A. I believe the city may have been modeled after the neighborhood where their offices were located.” Morogan listened but said nothing. A patrol of six zombies rounded the corner in front of us. We made eye contact. I think. Their empty eye sockets blazed with fire and hatred. Everyone stood still, zombies included, for what felt like an eternity. The one in front cocked his head to the side for a moment, as if listening. Then he turned and looked right at me. Eyes or no eyes, I could feel his hatred boring into my soul. He lifted his hand toward me, and a beam of scarlet fire lanced out, rocketing toward m
e. Rain vaporized as it made contact with the beam. I stood transfixed. I’d never had anything tossing magic at me, and I wasn’t even sure what to do. And no, I hadn’t thought to dodge. I was panicked and dumbstruck.

  Garstil noticed this and stepped calmly in front of me, raising his palm. The lance of fire struck something solid. A semi-opaque half-sphere of a shield appeared in front of him. The detonation knocked me down and staggered Morogan. The heat was immense, almost taking the breath from me, and my ears rang something fierce. The zombies charged as one—all except for the spellcaster, the obvious leader. He remained behind, now trading his fire lances for Garstil’s lightning bolts. Spells detonated against shields, and both were stuck in a stalemate. Neither could disengage without the other gaining a massive tactical advantage.

  Morogan charged forward, shield held ahead, and plowed through the attacking mini horde. Three rebounded on him, and two came at me. I dispatched the cannon fodder attacking me and Dashed at the zombie on Morogan’s back, shouldering it off him and finishing it with my sword. Morogan smashed the other two with his mace, making quick work of them. We turned back to Garstil, who was still trying to deal with the zombie spellcaster.

  “Distract him!” I yelled as I readied to attack. Morogan grabbed a giant boulder and hurled it at the zombie as hard as he could. Garstil waited until the boulder was almost on top of it before he fired a pair of lightning bolts. I triggered Dash. The spellcasting zombie shielded Garstil’s lightning with his left hand and obliterated Morogan’s boulder with his right. He was out of hands. My blade exploded from his chest, severing his spinal cord and slicing into his heart. I swung sideways and tore the blade out of his left, and inverting the sword for a backswing, I claimed his head.

 

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