by Hans Bezdek
“What’s the matter?” he whispered, looking around.
“Do you smell that?” she whispered back.
“Ugh, are you really going to make me say it?” he groaned.
“Huh?”
“I might’ve passed gas a few minutes ago, okay?” he admitted, face turning red. “I thought you wouldn’t have noticed, but clearly you did. There’s no way you’re still smelling it, though, and I’d appreciate it if-”
“No, it’s not that,” she interrupted. “This scent… I’ve only smelled it a couple of times before. I think it’s-”
A scream rang out somewhere up ahead of them.
Zeke and Sloane shared a concerned look.
“You think it’s what?” Zeke gulped. “What has the smell you’re talking about?”
Judging from that scream, it sounded like her fears were correct. She didn’t know how to put this lightly, and it sounded like they didn’t have much time.
“Undead.”
Chapter 6
Zeke’s heart raced as he and Sloane rushed ahead through the forest. They kept the river in view, but otherwise kept to the trees. There was no telling if the undead were spread throughout, or if they were just converged on the point of the scream they had just heard.
After a hundred yards are so, they found what they were looking for.
Four undead creatures formed a half circle around a gnome. The gnome was slowly backing up with his hands raised as the undead approached.
“S-Stay back!” he whimpered, nearly tripping over his feet as he retreated.
The undead didn’t respond. Zeke wasn’t sure if that was their way of saying the gnome’s future was hopeless, or if it was because they couldn’t talk. He’d never actually seen the undead before and hadn’t been completely convinced of their existence.
He sure was now.
While he hadn’t smelled what Sloane was talking about back by the river, it was currently overwhelming. He couldn’t think of anything it reminded him of, other than death. Even Moya’s worst chefs, who had a knack for making food that smelled just as bad as it looked, had nothing on these creatures.
The smell was bad enough, but the way they looked was truly horrifying. The four undead all had the same humanoid shape and patches of old, rusted armor. Two of them had green-hued skin, while another one was severely blackened. The fourth one didn’t have any skin to speak of, only showing exposed bone.
Not only was their look scary, but they were well armed. Not literally, of course. Only one of them had both of its arms, and its left one was missing several fingers. The others were missing at least an arm, not to mention random teeth and other bones. What they didn’t lack were weapons. Axes and swords were drawn and at the ready, and Zeke even noted that several carried daggers tied to their ankles.
These things looked to be killing machines.
“I wonder why they’re out here,” whispered Sloane.
“Maybe they’re hungry?” offered Zeke.
“Oh, they’re definitely hungry,” she nodded. “I meant I wonder why they are out here, by a river. Undead typically keep to graveyards and crypts. They aren’t known for venturing very far.”
“Maybe there’s a graveyard nearby?” he guessed.
“No, I would’ve noticed it on my map,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Stop!” demanded the gnome, who had finally run out of room as his back bumped into a tree.
Surprisingly, the undead stopped.
“What’s he doing?” asked Zeke.
“Dunno,” said Sloane.
The gnome was of average gnomish height, which was two or three feet. The gnome had a dark goatee and what remained of his hair combed over atop his head. He was dressed in red robes, with black boots popping out from underneath. If he had been a human or elf, Zeke would’ve thought he was trying too hard to look young. Gnomes had a different sense of style, though, so who was he to judge?
“W-We can talk this out!” continued the gnome. “There is no reason for you to keep coming after me!”
The undead stared blankly at him.
“I’ve done nothing to you, and I’m just passing through!” said the gnome. “I will leave you at once, and you can go about your business. How does that sound? Agreeable, yes?”
The four undead all exchanged looks. It appeared they could understand him, even if they couldn’t speak. Maybe the little gnome was actually going to manage to get himself out of this one?
The undead all turned back towards the gnome. They all took another step forward.
“N-Now, h-hold on…” whimpered the gnome.
“There’s never any reasoning with the undead,” sighed Sloane. “Poor gnome.”
“Yeah, I feel bad for him,” nodded Zeke. He then broke away and started head to their right.
“Wait, what are you doing?” asked Sloane.
“Getting away from the mindless creatures of death, of course,” he shrugged. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“We can’t just leave the defenseless gnome out here to die!”
Zeke was a bit surprised at this. Sloane hadn’t exactly shown herself to be the kind of person that would show much mercy. He supposed there hadn’t exactly been any moral dilemmas that they had to work through yet, but that she would also choose the option that involved running away.
“Why can’t we?” asked Zeke. “The little guy has them distracted. We can escape off to the right, then flank around the long way back up towards the river. That way, we won’t leave the path too long, but we also won’t have to worry about these four.”
“I just… I just think we shouldn’t leave a gnome,” said Sloane, looking back at the soon-to-be-undead’s-lunch.
“Wait,” said Zeke, eyeing the human. “What does him being a gnome have to do with it? Do you have a thing for gnomes?”
“No, I don’t have a thing for gnomes!” she shot back, her face a bit red. “I do have a thing for what they carry, though.”
“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying…?” he asked slowly. There were certain stereotypes that surrounded gnomes, but surely she wasn’t talking about that.
“You want me to spell it out for you?” she asked. “Gnomes always carry a lot of gold on them!”
“Ugh!” Zeke sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “This whole time I’ve been traveling with a racist.”
“I’m not being racist, I’m just telling you that he statistically has money,” said Sloane.
That didn’t change Zeke’s opinion in the least, but let her keep talking.
“After we kill the undead, we could demand a large fee for saving him!” she explained.
She really was a mercenary, wasn’t she?
“Until we get the Fourth Staff, I’m not exactly going to be of much use in a fight,” Zeke reminded her. “If you want to go off and take care of all the undead by yourself, then more power to you.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t need you to fight,” she smiled. “I’ve got a plan.”
“Does this plan involve me staying back here, hiding, and watching you kill all four abominations by yourself?” he asked.
Sloane laughed.
Zeke didn’t understand what was so funny.
“I-I’m warning you!” cried out the gnome again.
“Alright, we don’t have any more time for joking around,” she said, glancing back in the gnome’s direction. “This is all I need you to do: Throw your dagger at one of them, kill it, and then run around to keep the undead distracted. Once I see that the gnome is safe, I’ll come and kill the remaining three while you keep them distracted.
It was Zeke’s turn to laugh.
“I thought you said we don’t have any more time for joking around?” he chuckled.
“What are you talking about?”
“The plan,” he said. “That’s clearly a joke, right?”
“It isn’t.”
“I-I don’t want to do this,” said Zeke, shaking his
head.
“YAA!” cried out the gnome.
Zeke and Sloane both turned at his more hysterical cry. The four undead still stood a couple of feet back from the gnome but were no longer looking at him. Instead, they were looking at a newcomer that stood in between the group of undead.
A large, green demon.
It stood a few feet taller than the undead, helped by three long, twisted, sharp looking horns that stuck straight into the air. It had clawed feet, but no hands. Instead, its arms were made up of two very long blades.
“W-Where did that one come from?” whimpered Zeke.
“It’s now or never,” said Sloane. “If we leave the gnome to those creatures, I doubt we’ll be able to find any gold on the few scraps of his body that’ll remain.”
Zeke sighed. Even though Sloane’s priorities seemed a little messed up, she had a point. If they left the gnome to die, Zeke wouldn’t be able to sleep well that night, or for a few after. He couldn’t just leave the little guy to die.
“Fine,” he grunted, stalking up to get a better position.
He was a little worried that the undead would see him, but fortunately, they were all staring up at the green demon. None of them made any moves, nor did the demon. Zeke couldn’t tell if they were allies or not. He also didn’t have the luxury of waiting to find out.
The elf arrived at a bush that he figured was close enough, then pulled Lucky out of his bag. If this worked, he was going to find a sheath for the dagger and wear it on his belt as a thank you.
Figuring that the tall green demon would be the worst one to be killed and eaten by, he decided that would be the one to take Lucky square in the face. He kissed the side of the dagger to add to its luck, then brought his arm back as he tried to ready his aim at the demon. He visualized throwing it a few times, then took a deep breath.
It was time.
Flicking his wrist, he released Lucky and watched. It was as if time itself slowed down. All Zeke could see was the dagger turning over and over as it traveled towards the group of undead and the demon. Then, the unthinkable happened.
The dagger landed, point first, right into the middle of the demon’s head.
“I did it!” cheered Zeke, jumping out of the bush with a fist pump. Lucky had lived up to its name once again!
The dagger bore deeper into the demon’s head as he cheered. Then a bit deeper. Then it continued on, past the other side of the demon’s face as the creature disappeared in a puff of smoke.
“H-Huh?” mumbled Zeke.
The four undead looked down at where the green undead had once stood. If Zeke couldn’t figure out what was going on, he was confident they wouldn’t either.
They all turned and looked up at Zeke, who still stood in the bush a half dozen feet away with his fist in the air.
“Not… not good,” he said, taking a step back.
The undead took a step towards him.
“Not good! Not good!” he shouted over and over, breaking into a run as the undead followed suit.
Chapter 7
Sloane held her breath as Zeke flicked his dagger at the green demon, then let it out in relief as it looked like he connected.
But then the demon had disappeared.
While some fae would disappear when they were killed, demons never did. At least, none of the demons she had ever killed did, and that was quite a few.
What had happened to it? And where had it come from in the first place? She wasn’t paying much attention when she was trying to convince Zeke about her plan, but she surely would’ve noticed it coming up on the gnome, right?
“Not good! Not good!” shouted the elf, sprinting off as the undead took chase.
It looked like she would have to investigate that a bit later. The plan was still in motion, even though it hadn’t gone quite like she expected it to.
Zeke ran off to the north, flailing his arms around as he went. He looked ridiculous but must have been doing it on purpose to keep the undead’s attention. It was working, as the creatures chased after him, leaving the gnome undefended.
Sloane waited a minute for the undead to get far enough away while pulling out her bow and nocking an arrow. When they were gone, she jogged up to the gnome, weapon at the ready in case that green demon or something else came out of nowhere.
Making it to his tree and seeing there weren’t any other being around, she lowered her bow and whispered to him.
“Are you o-oh!” she exclaimed, setting her weapon down.
The gnome was lying on his face, unconscious. Sloane got on her knees and felt for a pulse. Hopefully, the gnome wasn’t dead. While she could just take money off his body, she’d have felt a little guilty. If she and Zeke hadn’t wasted so much time talking, they could’ve gotten here faster, and maybe he’d have lived.
After a few tense seconds of searching around on his neck for a pulse, she found it. His heart was beating fast, but it was steady. The gnome must have fainted once the green demon showed up. It looked like he wasn’t used to these life and death situations.
Good thing she was.
She picked up her bow as she got to her feet, getting ready to run after Zeke and the undead. Before she could take a step, however, she saw there was no need to move. The elf was running in a zig-zag back and forth, not making much ground. This kept all of the undead in range of her bow while keeping him safely in front of them.
Sloane was once again impressed with The Elf Thief’s speed, even in the heavily wooded forest. If he had run in a straight line, he would’ve easily placed enough distance between himself and the undead for them to give up in no time. He must have known to keep them close, just in case they went back for the gnome. It seemed like Zeke was thinking two steps ahead. Sloane had almost begun to question him, but this reaffirmed the truth in her mind.
He really was The Elf Thief.
Deciding that she admired his talent long enough, she raised her bow and took aim at the group of undead. Best to take them out before things got spicy.
Muttering an incantation, the tip of her arrow began to glow with a bright, holy light. It wasn’t much, especially compared to what priests or those trained in holy magic could do, but it would get the job done here. While she never fancied herself a mage, she had enough magical capabilities to give her shots a little extra umph that they occasionally needed. Killing trolls with fire-tipped arrows was a lot easier than doing so without the help. The same went for killing the undead.
Leading the undead at the front, she let the arrow loose, reaching back for a second before seeing if she hit her mark. A soft thump was followed by a small explosion as the holy magic connected with the undead’s chest. It died before it could cry out, collapsing into a heap of bones and rotted flesh.
Sloane muttered the incantation again, lighting up her second arrow a half second before she launched it at another undead’s head. Not bothering to wait, she launched a third arrow at one of the remaining undead before she heard the explosion of the second arrow. By the time she had lined up her final target, three of the four undead were no longer animated.
The final undead had realized the fate of its comrades and decided that the taste of elf just wasn’t worth it. The clump of decayed flesh booked it to the north in an attempt to get out of Sloane’s range. Unluckily for it, she could hit about anything that she could see, regardless of how far away it was. Breathing out the incantation one more time, she let her arrow fly, then lowered her bow as she watched. The arrow soared high into the sky, gaining speed as it plummeted back down. The undead jutted forward in surprise as the arrow sank into its back, then joined its friends as the explosion of holy magic detonated.
Sloane let out a satisfied breath. That wasn’t an easy shot. The Elf Thief must’ve seen that and-
“Hurry!” cried out Zeke, still running back and forth and waving his arms around. “I can’t chase them forever!”
Or maybe he hadn’t seen it. Oh well, the job was done either way.
“Y
ou can come back now!” she called out. “Nothing’s chasing you anymore!”
The elf slowed and glanced over his shoulder. Once he determined she was telling the truth, he stopped running and squatted down to catch his breath.
“Nice work,” he said between breaths.
“You too,” she nodded. “You didn’t need to go all out, you know. Undead can’t run particularly fast.”
“Y-Yeah, I kinda realized that,” he said, standing back up and stretching out his back. “What’s the deal with the gnome? He dead?”
“Not yet,” she said, glancing down. She assumed the gnome would’ve woken up during all the commotion, but he was still out. Sloane nudged him a few times with her foot.
“GAAAH!” shrieked the gnome, snapping straight up in a fright.
Sloane jumped back and aimed her bow at him. She didn’t want to admit it, but he scared her a bit with that.
“What were you doing with the undead?” demanded Sloane, trying to save face.
“Woah, woah, woah!” said Zeke, jogging up to join them. “What are you doing? Lower your bow!”
“We don’t know for sure that he wasn’t in league with the undead,” she explained, not lowering it.
“Um, I’m pretty sure it was obvious when they were coming up to kill him that they weren’t working together,” said Zeke, shaking his head.
“Just because they weren’t then, didn’t mean they weren’t working together previously,” said Sloane. “There are traitors that have worked with the undead before. They always wind up dead, and usually from the undead turning on them.”
Sloane knew she didn’t have the best moral compass, but even she knew that working with the undead was never the right thing to do. Those things were abominations and were only kept alive by an evil kind of magic. She never felt an ounce of pity for those that died a gruesome death at their hands.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before we came to help him?!” asked Zeke. “If he was working with them, I would’ve just left him!”
“I-I wasn’t working with them!” cried the gnome. “H-Honest!”
“I was going to question him while the undead were chasing you,” explained Sloane, ignoring the gnome. “Since I was the one to do it, I didn’t think you needed to know that ahead of time.”