Without the need to travel with the others or conserve his energy, Clay loped along at a fairly good pace. He was past Sarlsboro and into the beginnings of the corrupted forest within an hour.
The first Undead tried to ambush him only ten minutes after that.
It was only a small group of foragers, coming out of the trees as he moved along the road. They sent their dogs to catch him while they drew their arrows. They obviously meant to kill him quickly, while he was isolated and vulnerable.
Their optimism was almost quaint.
Clay ripped through the corpse hounds with barely an afterthought. The foragers lasted barely a moment longer. Even with the handicap of the Malus, such lower-ranked Undead were simply not a challenge. Now the middle ranks, on the other hand…
He started off down the road again, hoping he would be able to move fast enough to get past the less important Undead before long. With the time limit that Syr Katherine had set, he couldn’t afford to waste any more of his day on the lesser Undead than was necessary.
Five short battles later, Clay found his first group of the middle rank Undead. They blared an alarm in his ethereal senses, setting off a clamor far louder than he felt for the lesser versions.
He veered off the road immediately, weaving through the black trees and brushing through the brown grass. Unlike before, he wasn’t going to wait for the Undead to block his way or chase after him. Clay was the hunter now, and he was going to teach these monsters to fear him the same way the spiders had before he ended them.
The first of the mid-rank Undead to appear were a group of the mounted scouts. He detected them moving quickly along the road and took cover behind one of the many dark trees. A short while later, the swirling mist arrived, trailing behind the Undead as they rode along the path.
They rode past him without noticing, and Clay followed in their wake, stalking along through the trees and grass without leaving any sign of his pursuit. It wasn’t long before the clumps of mist paused; he could hear the hooves of their mounts clopping against the packed soil of the road as they milled about. It occurred to him they were searching for an intruder. They’d expected to meet him on the road. How had they…?
He glanced upward and grimaced. Higher up than he’d expected, there was a dead bird circling. Clearly, there were foragers guiding their fellow Undead to any unwary prey. He’d need to be careful of that problem in the future.
Clay turned his attention back to the road. With the bird watching, he didn’t want to give the Undead any sign of what he was doing. His first instinct had been to use Ballad of Air to wipe away the mist, but he would need to be a bit more subtle now. Quietly, he crept closer to the mist, careful not to give any sign that he was coming. He stayed in the sunlight, rather than the shadows; hopefully, his body heat would stand out less that way.
The riders hadn’t moved by the time he had reached the edge of their mist. Peering carefully, he thought he could see their indistinct figures moving inside as they looked for him. He grinned and set himself.
Then he charged into the mist, holding his spear near the very end so that he could get as much length out of it as possible. The clammy, wet air blanketed him immediately; he felt the chill of it through his clothes. Clay ignored it, his eyes fixed on the first of the indistinct figures.
The scout seemed far more dangerous, half-concealed by the mist. They loomed out of the cloud ahead of him, head still beginning to swivel in his direction. Clay lunged, his spear pointed straight at their torso. It struck like a bolt of lightning cutting through the armor and bone, as if the Undead was barely there.
{Skeletal Scout slain! Soul increases by 40}
{Weary Horse slain!}
The indistinct shape collapsed immediately, and Clay yanked out his spear and moved past it. A second shape was moving in the mist; he saw a spear come level with him, and the profile of the figure narrowed. He waited until it was nearly on top of him, and then dodged to the opposite side of the scout’s spear. Clay lashed out with his own weapon as it passed, catching the Undead in the chest with the spearblade.
{Skeletal Scout slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Weary Horse slain!}
As the second Undead collapsed behind him, Clay sprinted for the third figure, which appeared to be turning to flee north along the road. He took three bounding steps and jumped, slamming into the Undead and knocking it from its mount. It thrashed until he drew his Pell knife and brought the heavy blade down on its neck.
{Might increased by 1!}
{Skeletal Scout slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Weary Horse slain!}
There weren’t any more figures in the mist with him. Clay ran for the edge of the road, ducking beneath the branches of one of the black trees as the mist faded behind him. He crouched, hoping that the bird hadn’t caught sight of him. When the mist was gone, and he was sure the entire group of Undead was dead, he slunk off to the southwest through the trees, hoping he could find another group of monsters before they started to bunch up in larger groups. It was hard to repress a grin; it just felt so right to be hunting again, even if he was by himself.
As he left, he heard the distant squawking of the dead bird as the bones of its fellow Undead were revealed.
A few minutes later, Clay picked up on another group of monsters.
They weren’t riders this time. Instead, he found the tracks for a group of levies. He could tell by the lumbering pattern of boot marks and their general lack of care. The tracks were fresh enough that they had to have come by recently. Mindful of the sky, he chased the group down, hoping to score another set of kills.
He caught up with the enemy on the shore of a lethargic-looking creek. The water was choked with drifting patches of brown grass; the Undead were marching along it, their halberds held over their soldiers.
Clay watched them a while, counting. There were at least ten Undead; he thought that made it at least three sergeants in the mix, though they seemed impossible to tell apart. Aside from small variations in height and build, the Undead all seemed to be exactly alike. They carried the same weapons, moved with the same lurching steps, and wore the same armor. Technically, he probably didn’t need to pick the actual monsters out from their puppets, but some part of him wanted to know the signs a bit better.
He followed them for a while, debating his method of attack. Using the Flame-Tongued Song would be the quickest method of dealing with the group, but the fire would be like a beacon for any patrolling corpse birds. Just deciding to attack them directly might work as well. Even with the Malus, he was confident that he could handle a bunch of levies, but the noise might attract just as much attention.
So instead, he watched and waited, hoping for some sign to give things away. There had to be something. Maybe something small, or something unobtrusive, but there was no way that a sergeant would be able to mimic the movements of its levies that cleanly.
He’d stalked the things for the better part of fifteen minutes before he noticed something he hadn’t before. Each of the Undead wore the same kind of helmet, almost perfectly exact. It fit them in exactly the same way, every single time. Only one thing was different.
Three of the Undead had a mark on the back of their helmet. It almost looked like a scratch, a vertical line that gleamed a little in the sunlight. Clay’s eyes narrowed, and he rechecked the rest of the shambling monsters.
{Insight increased by 1!}
Then he started the Canticle of Ice. Four spears of ice formed and shot towards three targets.
{Wretched Sergeant slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Wretched Sergeant slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Wretched Sergeant slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
With a satisfied smile, Clay slipped back through the forest, leaving the Undead where they fell. He had plenty more to do, after all.
Clay waited in the paper grass and watched his newest prey stalk forward.
They were being careful, which was to be expected. After all, their birds hadn’t seen any sign of him lately, and there were already two groups of their friends down. The three Undead hunters seemed appropriately nervous; even their corpse hounds were alert and snuffling at the air. One of them was following the trail that Clay had left earlier, deliberately pressing his feet into the mud as he walked by.
Of course, he’d then doubled back and jumped into the patch of half-dead, papery grass where he was now hiding. The spot had plenty of sunlight, which probably didn’t help the Undead see him any clearer. Just in case, he’d been using Autumn’s Grasp to cool himself off; the [Chant] was meant for food, not people, but he figured it wasn’t doing him any harm yet.
He watched, waiting patiently as the Undead walked past. Clay had found them in the first place by following one of their birds for a while, at least until he had located their trail. Their boots had left far less of an imprint than the levies, but the dogs left some fairly obvious tracks to follow.
Clay had gotten out in front of them and given them a blatant invitation to find him. Now, they were just about where he wanted them.
As the group of Undead reached the end of the trail, he saw them pause. Their confusion was clear as they stared around in the forest, looking for some sign of where he’d gone. It was almost enough to make him want to chuckle, though that would have given the game away.
Instead, he made no sound as he rose from the grass, his bow in his hand. He already had an arrow nocked, and he drew and fired in one smooth movement.
The arrow took the rearmost hunter directly in the head. It collapsed instantly, along with the dogs that had been bound to it.
{Condemned Hunter slain! Soul increases by 40}
{Corpse Bird slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
The remaining two hunters saw the dogs collapse, but their companion had died without a sound. One of the monsters stepped forward, as if to check on what had happened to the animals, while the second stepped back, searching the forest ahead for a threat.
Clay picked the one at the rear again, drawing and shooting it before it could realize that its companion was already down. His arrow caught it square in the back, punching through its light armor. This time, the thing didn’t just fall where it stood. It staggered forward and fell on its face, clutching at the sleeve of the last hunter before it hit the ground.
{Condemned Hunter slain! Soul increases by 40}
{Corpse Bird slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
The final monster spun, already reaching for its own bow. Clay moved faster, however, and his arrow took it in the chest before it could aim. The impact ruined its half-drawn shot and sent it reeling to the ground. Both dogs attached to it spun and began a charge; up above, he heard a bird screech.
He put an end to it with another arrow.
{Valor increased by 1!}
{Condemned Hunter slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Corpse Bird slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
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{Corpse Hound slain!}
With all of them down and their bones still, he stalked over to recover his arrows. At least one of them was probably destroyed—shooting through a piece of metal like a helmet would do that—but the others would be fine. He had more back at camp, but he didn’t plan on being wasteful.
Sure enough, one arrow had splintered, and another snapped. The other two were fine, though, and he slipped them back into his quiver before he continued on his way. He wasn’t anywhere near done yet.
Mist shrouded the forest.
It crept through the trees, stealing across the dead grass and covering the barren dirt. The mist was a harbinger of doom, preceding its masters and muffling their approach. Anyone who had seen it would have felt the grip of fear, knowing the monsters that were coming behind it.
The Undead arrived a moment later, crashing through the forest on all sides. A group of scouts, shrouded by even thicker clouds of mist, came charging into the clearing, their spears ready to skewer and stab. From another direction, a group of levies swung into place, their halberds forming a hedge of blades and points. Half a dozen Undead hounds came snapping and snarling from the opposite direction, fangs ready to rip and tear.
Then they all came to a stop, staring at what was waiting for them at the center of the clearing.
It was a bundle of paper grass and dark tree branches, wrapped together and warmed with the reversed [Chant] of Autumn’s Grasp. Clay had called the spell Spring’s Sun, and it had worked fairly well to make the improvised strawman appear like a warm-blooded, living creature. Now, however, the spell was fading, and the Undead stepped forward to poke and prod at it. The hounds were the ones to get closest, snorting and sniffing at it as it searched for a scent.
They didn’t appear to find anything. The levies cautiously stepped closer, while the scouts turned their mounts to examine the forest around them. Even the hunters, cautious as they were, crept in, still examining the area for any sign of a threat. There were signs of frustration in their motions, the anger of a predator denied their prey.
Then the dogs all froze as a hissing noise filled the air. They dropped in a pile of bones, their inquisitive snarls cutting off midway through. The other Undead froze, staring in surprise, and then turned to the hunters, all of whom had been skewered by spears of ice.
{Condemned Hunter slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Corpse Bird slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Condemned Hunter slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Corpse Bird slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Condemned Hunter slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Corpse Bird slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Achievement Reinforced! Corpsebane: 20% increase to all skills and damage against Undead. Bonus increases to 40% versus Rotted Levies, Wretched Corporals, Weary Horses, Skeletal Riders, Corpse Hounds, Condemned Foragers, Corpse Birds, and Condemned Hunters.}
The scouts reacted first. Before the slain corpse birds had crashed through the trees above, they wheeled their mounts around. They had no clear target, not yet, but they were already searching. At least, they were, until an arrow plucked one of them from the saddle.
{Skeletal Scout slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Weary Horse slain!}
They spurred their mounts into a charge. The direction was less important than the motion; a moving target would be harder to hit, after all. There was a clear path for them to travel, down a small gully towards a nearby stream. From there, they could reach the road, where they might be able to escape, or at least see their tormentor.
Halfway down the passage, a cord suddenly stretched across the trees, right at the perfect height to catch the horsemen in the neck or chest. There was no give in the cord when they struck it; it was as if they had charged directly into a rod of iron at a full gallop. Neither remained in the saddle; they landed hard, their armor and spears broken. A moment later, the rope flopped loosely to the ground, and a shadow flitted across their bodies, leaving behind tremendous gashes and still bones.
{Skeletal Scout slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Weary Horse slain!}
{Skeletal Scout slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Weary Horse slain!}
{Achievement Reinforced! Corpsebane: 25% increase to all skills and damage against Undead. Bonus increases to 50% versus Rotted Levies, Wretched Corporals, Weary Horses, Skeletal Riders, Corpse Hounds, Condemned Foragers, Corpse Birds, Condemned Hunters, and Skeletal Scouts.}
The levies and sergeants had reacted slower, but they were no less disciplined for it. They formed a circle, their halberds pointing in all directions. Eyeless skulls searched the surrounding forest for threats as the mist cleared, and they shifted to aim their weapons at each imagined target.
They waited in vain. It seemed like their attacker had left. When the mist of the horsemen cleared, and the brilliant sunlight once again shone across the clearing, they saw nothing waiting for them. There were no heroes surrounding them, and no opposing monsters ringed them.
Then, just as they might have believed everything was over, a spear sailed out of the daylight and took one of the sergeants in the chest. It slew the Undead instantly, and as it toppled over, the spear sticking out of it like a flagpole, the strength fled the limbs of its levies.
{Wretched Sergeant slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
The remaining Undead scrambled frantically to close ranks again, but it was already too late. Pursuing Leap gave their attacker too much speed; a figure they hadn’t seen landed on the sergeant’s corpse and ripped the spear free. A levy began an overhand swing to cut the enemy down, but before the blow landed, a heavy-bladed knife had already sunk up to the hilt in the face of its sergeant.
{Wretched Sergeant slain! Soul increases by 20}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Achievement Reinforced! Corpsebane: 30% increase to all skills and damage against Undead. Bonus increases to 60% versus Rotted Levies, Wretched Corporals, Weary Horses, Skeletal Riders, Corpse Hounds, Condemned Foragers, Corpse Birds, Condemned Hunters, Skeletal Scouts, and Wretched Sergeants.}
More corpses tumbled to the forest floor as the rest lunged at the attacker. Halberds were brushed aside with ease, and the final sergeant had barely managed to swing its own weapon when the figure caught the haft and stopped it. The sergeant looked up and had one moment to try to pull back before a lethal spear thrust caught it.
{Wretched Sergeant slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
{Rotted Levy slain!}
That quickly, the battle was over. The final corpses fell to the ground, never to rise again, and the clearing went still.
Clay let the silence continue, listening for any other signs of reinforcements. He heard nothing.
Then he wrenched his spear free and turned south. He was already finished with these, but he was sure that more interesting prey was waiting for him closer to the archway. He’d keep his promise, of course, but that wouldn’t keep him from hunting down every type of Undead that he could outside of the Dungeon. Besides, he was close to his next level already.
{Will increased by 1!}
His spear set on his shoulder, and a tuneless whistle on his lips, Clay headed deeper into the forest, thinking about what he would do to the next group of Undead. It had been a good hunt so far.
An hour later, Clay watched as a cloud of poison slowly spread across the forest floor. The sickeningly green fog was thick enough to completely obscure the figures within, but he could hear them stomping across the barren patch of dirt they were crossing. There were at least two higher level Undead inside that cloud, more likely three: a marshal, a lancer, and an archer. He’d been trying to figure out a plan on how to kill all three while they were working together and he was alone. So far, he hadn’t been able to settle on a real plan.
In general, his journey south had been much more complicated than he’d been expecting. He’d half hoped that the high-level monsters would have been patrolling in ones and twos, or at the very least they would be moving in groups with their own kind, the way the mid-rank Undead had been doing. Unfortunately, it looked like they were working together, which meant he’d have to contend with them supporting each other’s weaknesses.
The terrain hadn’t been doing him any favors either. He hadn’t anticipated how much harder the bone-thorns would make his travel through the corrupted forest, but he knew better now. It didn’t only show up in the open, either. There had been a few times when he’d nearly stepped on a tangle of it running through some paper grass, or grabbed hold of a vine of it instead of the trunk of a tree. Clay had already been forced to use at least two bandages from when he’d cut himself on it, and seeing the way it leeched away the blood had been disturbing to say the least.
Fortunately, it didn’t appear that the Undead below could smell the blood. They might have still been searching, through their own eyes and those of their puppets, but he’d found a spot where they weren’t able to see him. The Undead might have established a fairly thorough search pattern, but they somehow neglected to search the trees above them as they walked.
It wasn’t all that unforgivable a mistake, of course. The blackened trees were unclimbable for most people, with their smooth bark and oily branches. Most people didn’t have access to a [Chant] like the Ladder, however, and he’d managed to find a spot where he could boost himself into the middle branches and watch this particular group pass by.
Using the Ballad of Air to brush aside the cloud so he could fight without being poisoned was a fair tactic; it was something that the group had used repeatedly in their attacks on the defenders of the doorway. Unfortunately, if he used it now, he wouldn’t be able to use many of the other [Chants] that he normally used to simplify the fight, such as the Flame-Tongued Song, or the Canticle of Ice. If something broke his concentration before he killed the lancer, he’d also be left in the middle of the poison, with little chance of reestablishing the [Chant] before it closed in around him.
Clay shook his head, and tried to spot something, anything, through the cloud. If he could just spot the lancer, he might be able to kill it before he had to fight the others. The problem was that the cloud was far denser than the mist used by the scouts. It covered them completely.
Perhaps it was time to give up for the day. He’d wanted to kill a few more, to take a few more steps closer to another reinforcement for [Corpsebane] and reach the next level, but there was such a thing as pushing too far. Clay shook his head and mentally prepared himself for the argument ahead.
Then he paused, still watching the cloud. The Undead had started to tromp past a dry creek bed, their weapons and armor creaking as they stepped down and out of the creek. As they moved past it, the cloud dropped low over the depression in the ground… and something else happened.
The mist pooled in the shallow ditch that had once formed the creek’s banks. It flowed along the channel like water, hugging the curves of the empty riverbank. As it sank into that ditch, he saw the top of the mist get lower, as if it couldn’t continue rising as high.
For just a moment, he thought he saw a hint of a helmet.
Then the Undead were past the obstacle, and the moment was gone. Clay continued watching them, noting the way the mist hugged the ground. An idea formed, and he smiled. He waited for the Undead to pass and then used the Ladder’s opposite to let himself down. It would take a bit of time to lead them to the right place, but when he did, he might give himself the chance he needed to put an end to them.
A little over half an hour later, Clay watched the same patrol following a trail he’d laid out for them.
It had been a bit of a masterpiece, if he said so himself. The first part had been simple; just letting the corpse birds catch sight of him. A few glimpses, no more than a hint here and there, had drawn the patrol like crows to a corpse. They’d quickly found other signs of him; a boot print here, a drop of blood there, had been enough to convince them they were on the right path.
He’d led them on a bit of a merry chase for a while, making sure that they were coming for him alone. It would have been complicated if they had drawn in other patrols, but they had seemed intent on killing him themselves. When he was satisfied that he’d be fighting them alone, Clay had let them find the traces that led up and around a small rise.
Their pace had grown eager as they came up over that hill. The traces had gotten closer together, and Clay could practically sense their urgent need to track him down and end him. He’d watched once again from the comfort of a nearby tree as they came up and over the side of the hill, walking along the side of it.
They might not have noticed as the poisonous mist rolled away down the slope. Its own apparent weight dragged it from where it had provided shelter for the Undead, trailing down like a curtain as more and more of it dropped away from the lancer that was generating it. Clay muttered a [Chant] under his breath and nocked an arrow. He watched and waited.
Eventually, just as they drew even with him on the slope, he saw the indistinct form of the lancer start to emerge. It was only a hazy outline, but Clay immediately fixed it in his mind. Once that Undead was down, he could deal with the others quickly enough.
A moment later, the Canticle of Ice completed, and he sent a full six frozen spears directly at that indistinct shadow.
He saw the figure in the mist stagger. For a heartbeat, he thought he’d somehow missed the thing completely.
Then the lancer shifted and fell away out of his sight. He heard the armor clatter along a stone; the corpse tumbled away down the slope a moment later.
{Skeletal Lancer slain! Soul increases by 80}
{Weary Mount slain!}
Even as the lancer fell away, Clay watched the now-fading mist. He knew it would happen, but he wanted to see…
There. Even as the marshal led his levies out of the mist towards him, and even as the pack of snarling corpse hounds tore their way up the slope, he saw a puff of motion out of the opposite side of the mist. In another circumstance, it might have been a gust of wind. With what he knew, however, it was the archer, trying to find a place to slip away unnoticed.
Clay drew his arrow back and fired in the same motion, leading his target slightly. The shot caught the blurred form of the archer in the leg, sending it to its knees. As it struggled back upright, Clay shot it again, this time square in the back.
His third shot was ruined as both corpse birds dove at him from above, screeching as they came. He grunted and tried to shift his weight on the tree branch. It was a mistake, and he knew it the moment his boots started to slip on the too-smooth wood. Rather than topple from the tree, Clay chose to jump, turning a fall into a half-hearted leap.
He hit the grey dirt below and rolled a little, already starting a new [Chant] under his breath. The dogs were already nearly to him, and he drew his knife in response. Clay barely had enough time to stow his bow before the hounds were on him.
The first one leapt at him, jaws opened wide to latch onto him. Clay struck at it, snapping a leg and shoving it aside. He was careful not to kill it outright; he didn’t know if it took more effort to repair or revive the thing, but he hoped it would at least distract the archer. It took a little more effort as he dodged the second Undead beast, but he kicked it back down the hill and towards the advancing line of armored levies.
They didn’t stop; if anything, the levies stomped down harder on the struggling corpse hound as they climbed the hill. Clay’s eyes narrowed as they advanced, and he shifted his grip on the knife as they came. The levies had formed the usual wall of halberds, their spearpoints creating a hedge that he would need to fight past in order to reach their master.
He dodged to the left, abandoning the high ground to try to circle around. They shifted to face him, a few of them sliding a little in the grey, lifeless dirt. The corpse birds were circling as well, preparing for another dive at him, and he could already hear a pained whistle summoning the dogs back to their task.
Then he completed the [Chant] of the Pursuing Leap, and he jumped into the air as he was yanked down the hillside. The archer was still struggling to its feet when he smashed into it. He stabbed and slashed it immediately, and it went still.
{Condemned Marksman slain! Soul increases by 80}
{Corpse Bird slain!}
{Corpse Bird slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Corpse Hound slain!}
{Commoner reaches Level 14!}
{Maximum level for all Stats is now 29!}
{Experience gained (Stalker: Gain 10% bonus to Tracking, Hide, and Trapping Skills.)}
{Experience gained (Scout: Gain 20% to Tracking and Analysis Skills. Gain 10% to all skills when alone.)}
{Achievement Unlocked! Assassin: Gain 40% damage to initial attacks from hiding.}
Clay felt a rush of satisfaction at seeing the notifications come through. There was a second feeling of content as the bodies of the corpse birds fell from the sky. Then he looked up at the marshal and its troops and smiled. “Two down, one to go.”
He spoke the words of the Cycle of Return as he climbed the hill towards the last remaining Undead. The levies and the marshal backed away slightly, as if sensing that Clay was beyond them. One of them started to scramble away.
It didn’t make it far before Clay’s spear came spinning out from behind the tree he’d been using. The weapon crashed through the line of Undead from behind, knocking half of them from their feet. Clay was running before he’d even caught the weapon; he reached them as they were still trying to scramble back into a line.
The marshal died immediately, his spear planted in its heart, and its next three bodies were killed just as quickly. Clay turned and saw the last of them, the one that had made a break for safety, suddenly seize up as the marshal transferred to it. Perhaps the Undead thought it had managed to escape.
It might have changed its mind as Clay’s spear took it right in the head a moment later.
{Wretched Marshal slain! Soul increases by 80}
Clay looked around at the wreckage of the Undead patrol and nodded. Then he looked up at the sun overhead, trying to judge the time. One more, he thought, and then he’d need to head home.
He set about recovering his arrows and other equipment. Then he turned to the task of finding the next patrol.