47.
Erak rushed into the swarm of hands, clenching fingers dragging across his armor as he struck all around himself with his weapons. A corpse struck the side of the wall and crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap as he speared the next in line through the head. His boot crushed a sternum as he front kicked it, sending it sprawling into the crowd and creating more room.
Pomp leapt off his shoulder and slammed into an undead, teeth ripping a throat free, claws ramming into the wound and ripping in free. The dragon roared in his victory and Erak felt a smaller than usual slice of Essence flow into himself. An undead hand reached down and slapped the dragon against a wall, the Essence crafted body broke apart and Pomp yowled like a scalded cat as he rushed into Erak, sliding through his armor like water.
Erak killed another of the undead, tossing it into the water. Bodies were thrashing about in the waist high water, bloodless limbs clawing at the air. Illyria and a clutch of fighters were holding the other side of the passage, while the noncombatants fled from the fighting, led by Janus. Erak was busy trying to cut his way to the Necromancer.
The figure was standing there silently, robes rustling in the chaos of the undead rushing by him. A skeletal hand rose up from the robes, flesh desiccated and drawn tight over the phalanges, spots of yellow corruption speckling the hand as it pointed a single finger at Erak.
Black-yellow light balled around the tip of its finger and then it was lancing across the space between them. Erak felt death, its cold caress down his spine, the whisper of peace, of rest, of laying down his oaths. Of his duty completed. He huddled behind his shield and the beam of light hit with a flash of light, a weight behind it that staggered him backward.
Erak grunted in pain but the bolt ricocheted and hit the stone wall. Hardened stone turned into ash, disintegrating and spilling away like fine sand. Erak swore in his mind and raced forward, slamming his shield into the chest of an undead and pumping his legs, using the creature like a wedge. The corpses were slow and clumsy, falling into the water or tumbling to the ground as Erak kept pushing.
His legs burned from the exertion, the weight of the press of corpses staggering. He roared and shoved and the wall broke apart and he was lunging at the Necromancer, Spear Thrust forming and coating his blade. The pain of the ability was welcome as he flashed across the distance, energy coated spear inches from the dark sorcerer’s chest.
All around him corpses burst apart in a spray of blood and bone. Time slowed, stretching thick as syrup as bone flew around the Necromancer, forming a cage from his creations. Erak’s spear hit it, bone shattering and breaking apart, but then it failed to pierce all the way through. Essence flashed and detonated in a burst, picking Erak up and tossing him backward.
He landed in a loud clamor, rolling to his feet smoothly and readying himself with his shield tucked to body, spear outward. The Necromancer was standing still, a hole in the cage wide enough for Erak to see the woman’s face. The hood had been blown backward, revealing her features.
Bone white hair that was loose, fine as silk, and thin. Black eyes lacking sclera, just pits of darkness that ate away at her sockets and cheekbones. Flesh dry as leather and tight to her cheekbones, hollow cheeks, and a sparkling smile.
The bones rustled and broke apart, flowing like water around her body until she was encapsulated in thick armor. Skulls formed and melded together and then covered her face, leaving only her smile visible.
“Your weapons will make a fine addition to my collection,” she rasped, her voice carrying over the crowd. Erak cracked his neck and threw the spear, letting it fly across the distance in the blink of an eye.
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One of the corpses lunged in front of the spear in a sudden burst of speed, black-yellow energy coating it. The spear pierced the undead and it collapsed to the ground, energy dispersing into the environment. A slim piece of bone flayed off of the Necromancer’s armor.
Erak pulled forth the sword and with a simple chop took another Undead’s head. The headless body slumped to the ground and Erak flicked the blade, cleaning it of the coagulated blood. He glanced at the thinning line of people behind him, looking from the corner of his eye. It was still a steady stream, dozens of people shuffling quickly along.
Illyria and her team were holding their section well, slashing down into the waters on occasion to kill one. They were fully engaged though, no possibility of them breaking free and interfering with his fight. Erak smiled and moved forward, the joy of the challenge rising in his chest once again. The leeches had been strong and numerous, but they had lacked the strength to ignite the fire in his chest.
A bone spear flashed into the Necromancer’s hand and she twirled it as an identical shield as Erak’s was crafted from the leftover bones. Small pieces of bone chips, abandoned bones, and sinews from the corpses flowing together to form a large shield. She shook her shoulder and then stepped forward to meet Erak.
Erak flashed at her, sword swinging across the distance in a flash. Her shield rose up and caught the sword, bone chips spraying out as the sword connected. She grunted as she was pushed back, her own riposte off target, the needle thing point scraping a line across his helm instead of spearing him through the eye.
Erak kicked her in the knee, bone breaking twice over, her armor and the joint. She screamed but kept fighting, her armor twisting and wrapping around the join in a flash to keep her leg steady. Erak stabbed again, the lunge powered by his back leg, the point digging through her shield like paper. It pushed free and slid across her shoulder, scoring her armor but failing to find flesh.
She twisted violently, his sword trapped inside of her shield, and Erak let the blade get pulled from his hand. He punched with his heavy shield, the edge of the shield crushing and cracking bone and throwing her like a limp doll. She sprung up, scurrying like a spider, and then thrust with her bone spear again. Erak deflected with his shield and punched her in the face with his free hand.
Her helm shattered and broke apart, the skulls of the dead no match for his gauntleted fist. Her head snapped back and she cried out, dropping her spear as the crowd around them surged toward him. Erak pulled the dagger free and slashed about him, pushing through the crowd to get to the retreating Necromancer.
She rose up, pointing her finger again with the black Essence rolling about like a fog. A hand grabbed his shield, pulling it down. Then another and another, and a fourth. Each one of them clutching and straining against him as Erak lifted as hard as he could. A line opened up between him and the Necromancer, leaving him exposed to the blast of power.
Erak snapped his wrist, flinging the knife with a practiced ease. It flipped once before sliding through the cracked skull helmet, sinking to its hilt in the woman’s eye. She froze there, power still coalesced around her finger. The undead were frozen, dozens of hands grabbing at Erak and holding him down with the sheer weight of the press.
The first body hit the stone bonelessly and then there was a rush of falling flesh, undead falling and staying dead. Flesh ran off their skeletons, a slurry that drained into the sewer water, bones breaking down to dust and splinters. The Necromancer slunk to her knees, armor dissolving off of her. Her threadbare robes were large on her emaciated frame and Erak walked over to her and grabbed her skull with one hand and the knife hilt with the other. He pulled the blade free and a rush of Essence filled him, making him grit his teeth in painful pleasure.
Erak went to step back and then stopped as he spied the glint of gold around the woman’s neck. He reached down and gently grabbed the thin chain and pulled it free from her robes. A carved finger bone sat on the end of the chain. Immaculately carved, stained ebony, and with delicate runes scrolled across it. With careful reverence he pulled the chain off of the woman’s head, shoving her corpse into the sewer water.
Undead Key
Rare
An enchanted key, bathed in Necromantic energy. Opens a lock
Erak pulled his Iron Ring out and tied the delicate gold chain around his own, the key dangling with the ring. He dropped them back down under his armor and grabbed his spear out of the corpse. The Necromancer had been foolish to meet him blade to blade, she would have been better served to allow her monsters to drag him down.
Her mistake, his gain. He looked at the new levels he could now use. Illyria was looking at him, raising her sword in acknowledgment as he joined them all. They still had further through the sewers to go.