“So how are you holding up?” Frank asked, breaking the silence. “I meant to ask back at the keep, but it felt a little weird with everyone there.”
Jason hesitated to answer immediately, his eyes on the rough cobblestones embedded in the street. “Okay, I guess,” he finally replied. “Probably as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Honestly, I’m not really sure I want to think about it.”
“I can understand that,” Frank said, nodding and glancing at Jason with a worried expression. “I can’t even imagine what the last few days have been like for you, but maybe this quest can at least be a distraction.”
“I hope so. I could certainly use something to take my mind off of… everything,” Jason said quietly.
“Well, if you ever need someone to talk to…” Frank offered awkwardly while fiddling with the handle of one of his axes.
Jason glanced at him, trying to muster a small smile. “I appreciate it.”
The pair soon arrived at the training grounds. The space had been completely overhauled since Jason had last been there. The straw dummies were nowhere to be seen and the makeshift fence ringing the area had been removed. Undead and players now sparred in the yard with real weapons – likely a holdover from Rex’s training regime. Jason noted more than one red stain marring the dusty yard, evidence of a well-placed blow or a poorly-timed parry.
“Come on you grunts. Move faster. Jenkins, your form is terrible,” a feminine voice shouted over the din of clashing metal. A slender form moved between the trainees, yelling reprimands and pointing out the recruits’ failures. Jason didn’t miss the fact that the undead and even the players straightened up as the woman passed or how their blows fell heavier and faster.
As the officer finally broke through the crowd of trainees, he saw that she wore her hair in a ponytail bound behind her head. She was also sporting heavy mail armor, a longsword swinging at her waist and her hand resting gently on the hilt. As Jason and Frank approached, her bleached eyes gave the pair a once over before immediately turning her attention back to the courtyard.
“New recruits should set up in the back,” she grunted, gesturing at the far end of the training field. “Grab a weapon from the barrels and start swinging with the other idiots. You won’t be coddled here. If you bleed, bandage your own wound. If you show some promise, I’ll put you up against a more experienced opponent.”
Jason couldn’t help but smile at the jaded frustration in the woman’s voice. It reminded him of the first time he had met his former general Rex. “We aren’t here to train,” Jason replied evenly. “We’re actually here for the corpses.”
The woman turned back to him, a single eyebrow raised skeptically as she re-assessed the pair. Her gaze finally settled on Jason’s cloaked form, noting his slight stature and the daggers hanging at his waist. “Huh, so you must be this Jason I’ve heard so much about. Not really certain what I was expecting, but you are much less intimidating than the others led me to believe.”
“He’s really not much to look at under the hood either,” Frank offered with a chuckle.
“I don’t make it a habit of advertising my presence,” Jason replied, glaring at Frank – who tried unsuccessfully to hide his laugh by coughing into his shoulder. “What’s your name?” he asked, offering a hand to the undead woman.
“Vera Raekin,” she replied, gripping his hand firmly. “Sorry about the misunderstanding. We get a constant stream of novices, fledgling travelers who have never held a blade, and the occasional bored citizen that has decided to fight for the ‘glory’ of the Kin. It’s hard to keep track of them anymore,” she muttered, shaking her head in irritation.
“Hmm. Well, your predecessor didn’t have much patience for training morons either. I can appreciate the frustration, but it looks like you are doing a fine job here,” he added, gesturing at the trainees.
Vera shrugged noncommittally. “I’m not sure I agree with you, they’re just as pathetic as when they arrived, but I’ll accept the compliment anyway.” She sighed as she watched a player drop his sword by accident. To make matters worse, his opponent failed to capitalize on the moment, tripping over his own feet as he lunged forward and landing in a heap.
“Anyway,” Vera grumbled, “you weren’t here to talk about the trainees. The corpses you are looking for are around the back of the stable. Here, let me show you,” she offered, leading them toward the nearby stables.
As they circled the structure, the bodies soon came into view. The large pen behind the stable had been filled to the brim with bodies – piled two and three corpses high. The undead city didn’t exactly have any horses anymore, so there was no longer any need for the pens that had once stood behind the stables. Or at least Jason assumed that must have been the thought process of whoever had dumped the corpses there.
Jason winced as the vacant gaze one of the corpses seemed to fix on him, the memory of the two teenagers flitting through his mind. He noticed Frank watching him carefully. It’s just a game, he reminded himself. This isn’t real. These are just one more city resource – like a pile of lumber. A pile of lumber that bleeds…
“We had them sort the bodies based on size and race. So, you’ll notice a couple different piles in the pen,” Vera explained, gesturing at the corpses. “We weren’t quite certain how you wanted to… well… do your thing.”
“This is perfect,” Jason replied. “Did we get any minotaurs in this last batch?”
At Vera’s confused expression, Frank spoke up. “Massive creatures. Big horns. Sort of look like humanoid cows?”
“Ahh, yes,” she answered, nodding. “They brought in a few, and we dropped them in the back. They were a pain to get off the cart.”
The group walked around the pen with Vera in the lead. Nearly a dozen adult minotaur corpses had been dumped along the back of the enclosure. Jason’s brow furrowed in confusion. This couldn’t have been all of the Minotaurs in the dungeon. Maybe William’s forces had struggled to clear the first level or maybe the corpses hadn’t been salvageable. He supposed it didn’t matter. He would just have to work with what he had.
With a nod of thanks to Vera, he began to work. Jason’s fingers twined together in an intricate pattern as dark tendrils of energy collected along his hands. The cloud cover overhead soon responded, creating a spinning vortex as forks of electricity arced between the clouds. A few seconds later, several bolts of mana-infused lightning struck the minotaurs with a deafening crash, enveloping their bodies in bright energy.
The transformation was swift. The minotaurs’ rotting flesh thickened and solidified even as stray dismembered limbs knitted themselves back together. The creatures soon twitched and jerked, adjusting to their new bodies and slowly regaining consciousness. Finally, one of the minotaurs raised itself from the ground, eyeing the pile of humanoid corpses beside it curiously. The others followed close behind.
“Hello,” Jason said, moving forward and addressing the creatures. Their eyes turned to watch him impassively. He wasn’t quite certain how the minotaurs would respond to his Undead Devotion Spell. He hadn’t used it on anything other than other humans. The minotaurs were human-ish, so he was hoping this would work.
“My name is Jason, and I am the Regent of the Twilight Throne,” he continued. The creatures didn’t make any sign that indicated that they understood what he was saying, simply staring at him with blank expressions. It was difficult to tell whether he was getting through to them or not.
“You may feel a bit confused. You died, and I resurrected you as new citizens of my city. You will be given a place to live here, and you will be cared for. Those of you who wish to do so can work for the city. If you wish, you may leave. Just know that our neighbors will not welcome you with open arms.”
“Uh, I’m not sure they understand you,” Frank said softly, eyeing the creatures nervously as his hands clutched at the hilts of his axes.
The largest of the creatures suddenly stepped forward. Massive horns jutted from it
s forehead, and the muscles in its arms and legs rippled as it moved. Jason assumed this must be one of the bulls. The minotaur snorted roughly, bucking its head as it gazed at Jason menacingly. Without any warning, the bull dashed forward, its hooves slamming into the ground and throwing up thick clouds of dust. A bellowing roar escaped its mangled throat, echoing through the courtyard.
Before Jason could react, Frank jumped in front of him. His arms shifted and contorted, thick black hair erupting from his skin in waves as his muscles bulged grotesquely. At the same time, the bones of his fingers cracked and crunched, swiftly shortening down into massive clawed paws. Even while he was still undergoing this transformation, Frank was already sprinting forward toward the minotaur.
The pair slammed into each other with startling force. Frank slid back several feet from the impact, grunting from the strain but managing to halt the minotaur’s charge. The barbarian’s new bear-like arms grappled with the creature. The minotaur bellowed its defiance and slammed a meaty fist into Frank’s face. His head whipped to the side with a crack, and he flew backward, his health dipping precariously.
Frank stood slowly, raising his eyes to meet the minotaur’s and wiping a trail of blood from his mouth. Thinly-veiled rage danced in the barbarian’s eyes. “Is that all you have?” Frank taunted.
Then he retaliated. Frank dashed forward with surprising speed. His arm lashed out, swiping at the minotaur and his claws digging deep furrows in the creature’s chest. Congealed blood dripped from the wounds, staining the minotaur’s matted fur a dark maroon. The monster tried to lunge at Frank, but the barbarian danced away nimbly, putting some distance between himself and the bull.
The injury only seemed to enrage the creature further, and it charged forward again, its head lowered as though it intended to gore Frank with its horns. Jason’s friend didn’t give it the opportunity as he lunged to the side. Frank sailed nearly half a dozen yards before hitting the ground with a heavy thump. Jason could see that he had transformed his legs, his knees buckling at an odd angle as he assumed his familiar wolf form. His arms swiftly reverted to normal, and he grabbed at his axes.
The minotaur whirled, his eyes focusing again on Frank, but before the creature could charge once more, a blade suddenly erupted from its throat. A spray of thick blood jetted from the wound, and the bull clawed at his throat desperately as his legs buckled.
As the creature tumbled to the ground, Jason saw that Vera stood behind the minotaur. She withdrew her blade with a swift jerk, wiping the metal off on the creature’s coarse hair. “Well, that was interesting,” she murmured, watching the bull as its gurgling breaths slowed and then finally stopped. “I’d say he wasn’t much interested in your proposal,” Vera continued dryly, addressing Jason.
Jason’s gaze turned to the other minotaurs standing in the pen. None of the other bulls made any move to attack. Instead, as one, they dropped their heads in submission, bowing before Jason and his teammates. That was certainly odd after the unexpected attack.
“What the hell is going on?” Frank muttered as he approached Jason, his gaze on the minotaurs and his axes still held at the ready.
“I’m not sure,” Jason replied. He hadn’t ever summoned this type of creature before using Undead Devotion. Regular humans were much easier to deal with. He had witnessed several newly-summoned humans undergo some sort of existential panic attack, but it eventually passed. However, none of the new NPCs had tried to attack him.
“These creatures look like cattle. Perhaps they also think like beasts,” Vera suggested. “I expect that the bull was challenging you as alpha. Once he was slain by your ‘herd,’ the others submitted.” The woman shrugged. “That’s a guess anyway.”
“That makes sense,” Jason murmured. He would have to keep that in mind in the future. He should be careful about raising non-human creatures if this was the sort of result he could expect. “Thanks for the help, Vera.” The woman nodded curtly in reply.
Then Jason’s eyes shifted back to Frank, noticing that his legs had regained their normal appearance and his leggings were unharmed by the transformation. “What was that, by the way?” he asked, gesturing at his friend’s arms. “It looked like you were part bear there for a second.”
Frank grinned broadly. “Hey, Riley isn’t the only one that had some fun while you were away. I’ve been busy. I guess you could say that I’ve learned a few new tricks.”
“I should say so,” Jason replied with a chuckle. “But the transformation doesn’t damage your gear?”
Frank nodded. “I was worried about that too. Every time I shift, my armor unequips automatically and then re-equips when I transform back. I’ve done a few experiments, and I don’t receive the stat bonuses from my equipment while shifting.”
“That’s not entirely realistic, but I suppose it makes sense,” Jason replied. If Frank’s ability destroyed his armor every time he changed shape, that would be a real pain.
It was clear that his friend had grown a lot in his absence. He could only imagine the strength boost that the bear transformation must have provided if he was able to grapple with one of the minotaurs. Only three days might have passed in the real world, but Jason kept forgetting that this was over a week in-game. He needed to make up for the lost time – and quickly.
With that thought, Jason turned back to the remaining corpses. It was time to get to work. Nearly an hour later, he had managed to raise the bodies of the dead cultists and to give a similar speech to the newly-minted undead – this time without incident. He had also used the opportunity to raise roughly twenty new zombies for his own collection. He figured that would give him a decent-sized group of minions for the journey to Falcon’s Hook. He could always add to this group over time.
Vera had quickly proven to be a competent leader, enlisting the trainees to help position the bodies so that Jason’s new citizens didn’t wake up lying on top of each other and she had assisted with coordinating the process of getting the new residents situated within the city.
“She’s not Rex, but she’s damn good at her job,” Frank commented quietly from beside Jason, his gaze resting on Vera where she stood nearby giving orders to the new recruits and NPCs.
Jason couldn’t help but agree. The soldiers under her command respected her, and she was no nonsense when it came to getting a job done. “Perhaps we’ve found someone that might be able to act as Rex’s replacement, but let’s give it some more time to be certain,” Jason replied. The thought of replacing his former general still stung, and he wasn’t sure he was willing to act so soon. Part of him knew he was being silly, but he couldn’t help it.
“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask about the last batch of corpses at the end of the pen,” Frank said. “They look like a bunch of wolves. If you aren’t going to use them, I could consume them to level my shifting skills.”
Jason’s brow wrinkled in confusion, and he turned to look where Frank was pointing. Indeed, he saw that the bodies of nearly a dozen wolves had been piled in the back corner. Yet these weren’t normal-looking creatures. Their bodies were massive – several times larger than the pictures Jason had seen in the real world. Their fangs were nearly as long as his forearm.
“Vera,” Jason called out, trying to get the woman’s attention. “Where did these wolves come from?”
“Ahh, the crew that dropped off the bodies mentioned that they had encountered a pack of the creatures on their way here. They were grumbling about needing to reinforce the caravan next time since the wolves took out a few soldiers.”
“Hmm,” Jason murmured. The bones of an idea were beginning to bloom in his head as he gazed at the creatures.
“I really don’t like that look in your eye,” Frank said. “It’s that same expression you get before things start exploding or we end up taking on an entire player army. You know, just as purely hypothetical examples.”
Jason couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh come on. I’m not that bad. Besides, I think you might actually lik
e this idea.”
He turned back to Vera. “The next time William’s group makes a delivery, tell them to focus on hunting the wolves. Hell, I’ll give each man on the crew a gold piece for each wolf they bring back. If they manage to capture a few alive, I’ll pay ten gold a head.”
The officer’s eyes widened. “Yes, sir. And if they ask me why they’re killing the wolves?”
Jason shrugged, an excited grin creeping across his face. “Tell them that it’s about time we added some cavalry to the Twilight Throne’s forces.”
Nearly an hour later, Jason and Frank had finished up at the training grounds and were approaching the city’s southern gate. Riley soon came into sight – her slender, dark form leaning against the gate. Her eyes immediately widened as she caught sight of the pair and the assembly of creatures following behind them.
“What the hell are you riding?” she yelled at them.
Jason and Frank were each sitting atop a skeletal wolf. Jason had ultimately decided that raising zombie wolves would make for an uncomfortable ride – what with the decaying flesh – so he had opted for skeletons.
It had only taken him a few minutes of fiddling with the control panel for his Custom Skeleton spell to smooth out the bones around the wolves’ shoulders and the arch of their spine to create a makeshift bone saddle. The creatures each counted as two summons toward his Control Limit, but that seemed like a worthwhile tradeoff. The ride was a bit bumpy, but it was a great deal faster than running.
The difficulty was that he didn’t have very many of the wolves – especially after he had given a few to Frank to consume. He had also raised nearly twenty of the cultist zombies as additional minions. This had forced him to double up the cultists on each of the spare wolves. He glanced behind him at his minions. They didn’t look particularly comfortable, but it would let them keep up on the trip to Falcon’s Hook.
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