Bones of Doom

by Mark Cheverton

  “Now, boy … it’s your turn.”

  The skeleton attacked, swinging the massive broadsword in a savage overhead strike. Needle came up, moving on its own volition, deflecting the blow, but not fast enough. The gigantic blade caught part of Watcher’s shoulder, tearing a huge gash into his chain mail and finding soft flesh underneath. Pain exploded through his body, his left arm growing numb. He dropped the shining helmet, just as the monster attacked again. This time, Watcher knew Needle would not be fast enough to block the weapon. Everything seemed to go into slow motion, the skeleton’s sword streaking toward his head, Needle trying desperately to come up in time to stop the lethal blow; it was like watching a nightmare slowly unfold.

  But then suddenly, a shining blue sword blocked the skeleton’s attack … it was Cutter. His diamond blade stopped the skeleton’s attack before it could reach Watcher.

  “You look like you could use some help.” The big NPC smiled.

  “Begone, villager,” the skeleton growled. “This is between General Rusak and the wizard.”

  “Look around you, General; your forces have been defeated.” Cutter pointed around the room with his sword.

  For the first time, Watcher surveyed the chamber. The skeletons were slowly being destroyed. NPCs from all sides of the chamber were firing on the monsters as they huddled at the chamber entrance. Most of the skeletons had now been defeated, but at the cost of many NPC lives. Now, the villagers slowly turned their bows toward the skeleton general, ready to fire.

  “You think you’ve won?” the skeleton said, then laughed a hollow, clicking laugh, then shouted at the top of his voice. “NOW!”

  Just then, more skeletons streamed into the chamber. There were at least eighty of them, easily outnumbering the villagers. There was no way they could survive this assault.

  “Quickly, everyone this way!” Blaster shouted. He’d gotten the iron door open and was now sprinting into the dark passage.

  The other villagers saw the open door and followed Blaster. Cutter reached out and grabbed Watcher by the arm and ran for the passage, ignoring Watcher’s complaints.

  “The ancient relic … we must go back for it!”

  “Be quiet and run if you wish to live,” Cutter said.

  More skeletons were moving into the chamber, but for some reason, they were not firing. The monsters were allowing all the NPCs to escape through the dark passage. It felt wrong to Watcher, but there was little he could do about it.

  Once all the surviving and wounded villagers entered the passage, Watcher sealed it up with blocks of cobblestone. That instantly plunged the tunnel into darkness. Someone up ahead pulled out a torch and placed it onto the wall, letting Watcher see his surroundings clearly.

  The passage was made of obsidian and extended for maybe thirty blocks, then opened into a huge cylindrical chamber, also made of the same dark blocks. A faint purple glow shimmered from behind the dark cubes, just like with the diamond blocks in the previous room; likely the obsidian was also unbreakable.

  The villagers gathered in the center of the chamber, their voices echoing with fear and panic off the dark, shimmering walls.

  “What kind of place is this?” someone asked.

  Watcher moved into the chamber. Along the walls, wooden tables and chairs stood in disarray, many of them crumbling due to the ravages of time. Groups of bookcases stood along the opposite wall, following the curve of the cylindrical room, the shelves empty and covered with dust. It had the look of some kind of meeting chamber, though it was clear it had not been used for centuries. The villagers quickly searched the room for another exit, but found none.

  Just then, that terrible hollow laugh floated down to them from high above. Watcher glanced upward and found Rusak staring down at them from a single hole high up in the cylindrical wall, near the cobblestone ceiling.

  “Well, well, well … it seems we’ve caught a bunch of thieves.” The skeleton general laughed again, his jaw clicking. “Do you know what we do with villagers who try to steal from the warlocks’ War Room?”

  None of the villagers spoke.

  “We drown them.” Rusak laughed again. “Feel free to try and break the obsidian walls. Sadly, I think you’ll find they are enchanted and indestructible. To think I get credit for destroying a wizard … it’s a great day, a great day indeed.” The skeleton glared down at Watcher. “Oh, and one more thing: thank you for this enchanted relic.” He held the mirrored helmet before the small opening so all could see it. “I don’t know what it does, but I’m sure it’ll bring great power to the skeleton nation. Good bye, villagers. Ha ha ha … Come on, skeletons. We must return to the Hall of Pillars, to present our new treasures to the skeleton warlord.”

  The skeleton’s face disappeared from the hole, then water came gushing from it. The liquid fell down the wall of the chamber, then began filling the room. The level slowly crept higher and higher.

  “What do we do?” Mapper asked. “The water level is getting higher.”

  “Maybe the water will stop,” Planter said. “Maybe it’ll run out.”

  Cleric shook his head. “No, this is ocean water … I can taste the salt. That monster has opened that block to the Eastern Ocean. It will fill this chamber all the way to the top.”

  “What do we do?” Mapper asked again.

  Cutter moved to the walls of the chamber with his diamond sword in his hands. He swung the blade at the dark wall with all his strength. The diamond edge hit the dark cube, causing a shower of sparks to fly out in all directions, but when he ran his fingers over the face of the block, he just shook his head.

  “Not even a scratch.” Cutter put away his sword and pulled out an iron pickaxe.

  Watcher held up a hand as others began pulling out their pick axes. “Don’t bother, iron tools cannot hurt obsidian, only diamond.” The boy pushed through the water, it had now reached his waist, and tables and chairs floated off the ground and circulated around the chamber as the currents pushed everything about. He too ran his hand across the obsidian; the surface was perfectly smooth … not even a dent.

  “We can’t break these walls,” Watcher said.

  Cutter used his diamond sword on the walls again, this time swinging harder.

  “It won’t help,” Watcher said, but the big NPC ignored the boy and kept swinging until he was exhausted.

  “What do we do?” Planter asked. “We can swim as the water level goes up, but when it gets to the ceiling, we’ll drown.”

  “If only the water were solid, we could just stand on it and we’d be okay,” Blaster said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Stand on it … of course.” Mapper grabbed Watcher by the sleeve and tugged him close. “Those diamond boots we found in the Wizard’s Tower. Put them on … fast!”

  Watcher was confused, but did as the old man asked. He leaned over and removed his leather boots, and replaced them with the shining diamond boots. They were cold to the touch and instantly numbed his fingertips.

  “Now, stand on this table.” Mapper pointed to an old table floating off the ground.

  Watcher stepped up on it. Instantly it became covered with an icy sheen.

  “Now walk.”

  The old man gave Watcher a sudden shove. Instead of falling into the water, the water underfoot froze instantly, allowing him to walk across the sheet of newly formed ice. Other villagers moved onto the frozen surface, but it quickly melted as Watcher moved away.

  “We need more people with these boots,” Mapper said.

  Watcher quickly distributed four more pair of the Frost Walker boots. Planter, Winger, Cleric, and Mapper all donned a pair of the shining boots and ran around the chamber, freezing the water under their feet. The other villagers quickly climbed up onto the icy layer. As the water rose, the new level was quickly changed to ice, keeping everyone from drowning.

  “This is great and all,” Cutter said, “but we’re getting closer to the ceiling. It’s only cobblestone and I’m sure we coul
d dig through it, but not fast enough to save everyone from drowning … or freezing in a block of ice.” Cutter glanced at Watcher, an expression of uncertainty on his face. “Somehow, we need to make a big hole in that ceiling.”

  “You say we need a big hole?” Watcher asked.

  Cutter nodded.

  “I know just the person who can do that.” Watcher turned to Blaster and gave him a smile.

  Blaster gave him a devious grin and nodded.

  As the water level rose closer to the ceiling, many of the villagers appeared scared. They jumped to the new level of ice when it appeared but kept a wary eye on the cobblestone overhead.

  “We’re only four blocks away from the ceiling,” someone said. “I’m getting scared.”

  “It’s okay,” Watcher said. “Blaster will take care of us … right, Blaster?”

  “Yep,” came Blaster’s reply.

  “Inspiring speech,” Winger said with a sarcastic smile.

  The boy just shrugged.

  They were three blocks from the ceiling now. Blaster pulled out a pick axe and cut a single hole in the ceiling. He then positioned himself directly beneath the hole. With a block of cobblestone in his hands, he jumped upward and placed the stone under his feet on the frozen surface. With his head through the hole, he drew a block of TNT from his inventory and placed it on the ceiling. He jumped off the cobblestone and landed on the slippery frozen surface with a flint and steel in his hands. Flicking the tool, he lit the TNT. The cube instantly began to blink, growing brighter and brighter.

  “Everyone get to the walls!” Blaster sprinted away toward the walls.

  Some of the ice melted when Watcher and the others stopped running around the room, but no one cared. They all knew the water would protect them from the explosion. The water was now only one layer from the ceiling, the edge of the room ringed with heads bobbing above the surface.

  “Did you light it?” Watcher asked. “I don’t think it is going to—”

  BOOM!

  The TNT exploded, tearing a huge hole in the ceiling, allowing the sparkling stars in the clear night sky to shine through the jagged gap.

  “Quick, everyone swim to the center and climb out.” Watcher was able to get the last words out before the water reached the ceiling.

  Pushing off from the ceiling, he swam for the hole in the center of the obsidian tower. Watcher climbed out of the tower, then turned and helped others climb onto the roof of the structure. Villagers crowded the opening, each desperately trying to climb out before they ran out of air. Working frantically, he pulled person after person from the watery trap, grabbing a young girl and pulling her from the water as she took damage, but he couldn’t help them fast enough. Some of the villagers flashed red as their oxygen was exhausted and their HP slowly disappeared.

  Getting to his knees, he reached down and tried to grab a woman who was flashing red over and over again … she didn’t have long. She was far from the opening in the ceiling, her arm outstretched; it seemed as if she were pointing to him for some reason. Watcher stuck his head into the water and reached down for her. Grabbing her arm, Watcher pulled her upward, but she disappeared before reaching the air, her HP finally consumed.

  “Mother!” A young girl wailed with grief, then collapsed to the ground.

  Watcher pulled himself out of the water and sat back, stunned at the feeling of the woman’s wrist in his grip at one instant, then gone the next. She had perished in his grasp; he hadn’t done enough to save her.

  “How many did we lose?” Watcher asked.

  Planter moved to his side and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  He looked up at her, angry and sad. “How many?”

  “Well … we lost a dozen people in the fighting, then another four in the water,” she answered gently.

  “Sixteen?”

  Planter nodded.

  Those were my friends and neighbors, Watcher thought. They’re all here because the skeletons think I’m some kind of wizard. And now sixteen people have perished … for what … me?

  Guilt raked through his soul like a hot knife. Glancing at Planter next to him, Watcher realized it could have been her who died, or his sister, or his father or … it didn’t matter who it could be; he wasn’t worth more than the life of another. How many more would die because of me?

  “This was my fault,” Watcher said, his voice growing weak. “I led those people to their deaths. I’ve failed again.”

  “There’s no time to assign blame,” Cutter said. “Right now, we need to get off this tower and get somewhere safe, and anywhere is safer than this terrible … what did that monster call it?”

  “The War Room,” Blaster said.

  “Right, the Warlock’s War Room … it’s no place for us.” Cutter reached down and helped Watcher to his feet. “Right now, we need someplace safe to figure out what we’re gonna do, and I think that beach over there is a better place than on top of this tower.”

  “I think you’re right,” Planter added. “Come on, everyone, let’s swim for the shore.”

  She put a hand on Watcher’s arm, trying to reassure him, then turned and leapt off the tower, landing with a splash in the Eastern Ocean. The others followed her example and jumped off the tower, then swam for the shore, until he and Er-Lan were the last to leave.

  “Guilt is a difficult burden to bear,” the zombie said. “Er-Lan learned that with the passing of mother. But Er-Lan knew mother would not want this zombie to just give up. And those who were lost here believed in Watcher, and would also want Watcher to continue the fight. Giving up dishonors their memory.”

  And with that, Er-Lan jumped off the tower and swam for the shore, leaving Watcher atop the obsidian tower. He glanced back at the hole in the ceiling. The image of that woman disappearing as he held onto her wrist haunted his mind. He just wanted to curl up and die, but he knew he had to move. There were people on the beach who were relying on him, and he couldn’t let them down like he did the sixteen NPCs in this tower.

  He glanced toward the shore. Many of the villagers struggled in the water. Some swam toward the line of barrier blocks and climbed up on the invisible path while others just swam for shore. The silvery face of the moon shone down upon the landscape, bathing it in its lunar glow. It was slowly dropping behind the tall junglewood trees, settling in for the evening; it would be morning soon. Maybe things would seem better then.

  With a sigh, he jumped into the water and swam to the shore, the ocean water mixing with his tears.

  CHAPTER 19

  The skeletons trudged behind their general, knee deep in the ocean waters. Their bony footprints could be seen in the soft sand, but quickly disappeared as the gentle waves washed them away.

  Rusak gazed down at the temporary footprints and smiled. “Let’s see if any of the NPC survivors from the War Room can follow us now.” He smiled to himself, proud of his cleverness.

  “What?” Captain Ratlan asked. “Did you say something?”

  “Be quiet,” Rusak said. “I said nothing to you.”

  “Yes sir,” the captain replied. He cleared his throat, then spoke again, this time tentatively, as if expecting to be punished. “Ahh … sir … may I ask … umm …”

  “What is it, Captain? Spit it out.”

  “Well, the other skeletons were wondering … umm … where are we heading?” Ratlan glanced around and found the other skeletons had moved back, leaving the captain the only one within arm’s length of the general.

  Rusak glared at his subordinate, a scowl growing across his bony square face, but then he noticed the other skeletons skulking behind the captain and looking away. He growled at the soldiers, then slapped Ratlan on the shoulder and laughed, impressed with the captain’s courage.

  “You should always speak with courage, Captain Ratlan. Never act from a position of weakness, for others will lose respect for you.” Rusak glared at the other soldiers. “These pathetic skeletons were afraid to stand with you, and for that, they
will all do extra duty when we get back to the Hall of Pillars.”

  “But our home is not to the south, it’s to the south-west.” Captain Ratlan looked confused. “Where are we going?”

  The general reached into his inventory and removed the map given to him by the skeleton warlord, Rakir. “This map was given to our warlord by the wither king, Krael.”

  “Yes, general, I know.”

  “Then you’ll know many of the ancient structures built by the wizards and warlocks are marked on this map.”

  Ratlan nodded.

  “To the south is a sacred warlock building called the Swordsmith’s Workshop.” Rusak pointed to a bright red spot on the map. “The warlocks of old constructed many weapons in this structure. Most of them are hidden away in the Great Weapons Vault, the location of which has been lost to time. But Krael thinks there is still a great weapon hidden there. We will find that weapon and bring it back to the skeleton warlord.”

  “What does it say around this Workshop?” Ratlan asked.

  Rusak examined the map. “It says ‘Bad Lands’. That’s the area around the Workshop. The stories say the great enchantments used by the warlocks to construct weapons in the Workshop were so powerful, they actually cracked the surface of the Far Lands. The ground is now shattered, with rivers of lava and pools of poison covering the landscape.”

  Ratlan smiled. “Sounds fantastic.”

  The skeleton general nodded.

  “Do you think that wizard survived?” the captain asked.

  Rusak pondered the question for a moment. “I suspect the wizard used some kind of enchantment to take the HP from his companions, so he’d stay alive while the others perished. The NPC wizards from the Great War had no honor and attacked the warlocks for no reason other than greed. They wanted to take the Far Lands for themselves and exterminate the monsters. If the warlocks hadn’t been there to resist, we’d likely have been wiped out. I’m sure this wizard will try that again. Me and the skeleton warlord aren’t gonna let that happen. We’re going to destroy any other wizards we can find before they can even think about gathering an army.”