Thirty hundred paces south of Illyrith’s Final Bastion, hanging from a tailor-made hook in the crematorium of the Blight’s only mortuary was the bloodless corpse of a young man. His name was Vaelin Forger. A local Bastion veteran, much like Shale, he had been a loyal guardsman attached to Valerie Thornblood’s family militia.
Last morning, a knot of Sunken had dragged Vaelin and three of his fellow soldiers beneath the earth to their untimely deaths. The usual signs precluding a Sunken nest had not been present. The soil had been firmly packed and there were tall charcoal tree trunks surrounding the death-site. No one, not even the Vaelin with his years of experience had any reason to suspect it was Sunken territory.
The enquiry into their deaths was still ongoing, but the leading theory was these were ancient Sunken, never before re-animated. The group had travelled far from the usual perimeter Valerie’s garrison operated within afterall.
It is known that the less experienced a Sunken is, the more effective they are at eviscerating prey. It had simply been a long time since any had been dated as far back as the Day of Desolation.
The group’s deaths were painful. The memory of it still existed, fleetingly. Suspended in the slowly decaying brain cells within Vaelin’s dead body.
First, he and his group were pulled knee deep under the earth. All four of them were taken at once. The Sunken’s sharp claws would often tear clean through weaker, thinner bones of the feet when they grabbed their prey. Vaelin’s left ankle was severed this way.
The group now knee deep in the soil, the Sunken were able to further reach up and clutch onto the soldier’s thicker femur bones. Their collective agony engulfed the dead forest that day.. But their shrieks were quickly snuffed out as the Sunken yanked them downwards with one quick movement.
Beneath the ground the victims would promptly suffocate. Vaelin choked on the acidic soil the Sunken dwelled and his lungs quickly collapsed under the weight of the earth around him. Satisfied and hungry, the monster tore open his chest and plucked out his liver from behind his ribcage. The shock of which was sufficient trauma enough to shut down the poor man’s brain.
Afterwards, unbeknownst to Vaelin’s barren mind, his, and the rest of his fellow victim’s bodies were then extruded out from the ground. There, they were left to rest upon the disturbed surface for scavengers to pick dry.
That did not eventuate. Once Vaelin and his team had failed to return at midday, a search party was hastily sent out to their last known location. Sure enough, they found the group’s bodies resting upon the broken soil they had died beneath.
Mage Elora had been present for the recovery mission, and with magery, she split the earth apart for the pikemen to drive their spears into the unwitting Sunken. As per protocol, the monsters were exhumed, and the human bodies were sent to the mortuary.
Abel the undertaker worked alone. This was not normally a problem, in fact he rather preferred solitude. But that wasn’t the case when he was met at the door by five bodies at once.
The two men who had delivered the corpses attempted to run back to base right away, but Abel snatched their arms, and demanded they stay to help bring the bodies to the basement. They had begrudgingly obliged.
He showed them the cramped ground floor of the decrepit watch tower where the platform lift was located. They were instructed to carry the corpses to the lift once by one. At the bottom, from behind a sliding shelf Abel exposed the base of the lift shaft, and operated the chain link pulley that brought the platform down.
It took an hour to bring all five bodies to the autopsy room, after which the two men vanished without a word goodbye. It was then up to Abel to haul them up onto the granite slab at the centre of the room and conduct five autopsies back to back.
Sweat was dripping down his back and into his boots by the end of the autopsy - it had been Vaelin Forger’s. Abel casually scratched his mutton chops before recoiling back in dismay. He looked down at his blood-stained hands and cursed at his foolishness. There was very little fresh water available each day at the mortuary. Now he had to waste some to rinse his face.
The final task for today was the most difficult. The bodies were to be strung up and drained. Abel cursed the lazy men who left him here alone, and he cursed the memory of poor Tanner. Tanner was his previous and last assistant who’d dropped dead after pricking himself with a Canegraven tooth fragment present in an autopsy subject’s disembowelled guts.
Abel sighed, sent up an apologetic prayer for the dead boy, and got to dragging the corpses into the crematorium. That was also where the bloodletting took place - there was very little space to manoeuvre about in the autopsy room.
He set up a few lanterns, and lined up the bodies across the eastern wall, by the base of the pulley and rail network he’d installed last year. With the help of the young apprentice mages of course. But it made it worth their while.
It was an ingenious piece of work that brought Abel a great amount of pride every time he looked at it. Not even today’s immense workload could take that away from him. He smiled and set to work with the hammer and chisel.
Several splintered tibia’s later Abel had successfully punched holes through the men's legs and pushed large greybone hooks through the holes. The hooks proved to be a necessity over rope. Rope’s fibrous structure possessed a minimal life span thanks to the ruinous influence of Carrigan’s Blight.
Once all were firmly affixed to the hooks, Abel jammed the hooks into the wrought iron tracks which ran up the wall, and across the ceiling. One body at a time, Abel used the chain-link pulley to haul them up the wall, and out across the ceiling. Once all were hanging, they were ready for bloodletting.
Of course, given their present condition, a fair amount of blood had begun to spill from their wounds post suspension. It already trickled into the gutters engraved into the stone blocks comprising the floor. The grooved paths split apart, curved and bent their way across the room before dropping down a tube that funnelled the waste into the cremation pit.
Abel slit the throats of the hanging bodies, and let their blood flow freely. There was no downpour for these victims, a significant portion of blood had already been spilt, but the task was necessary regardless. Any body burnt in Carrigan’s Blight without bloodletting would end in disaster. The first royal guard stationed here had made that discovery to their cost over a century ago.
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Abel took a seat and rested. He watched idly as the dark red liquid ran down the branching paths before him. It trickled past fast at first, but soon slowed to a crawl. He noted with satisfaction the fine dark silt accruing on the banks of the gutter’s bends and corners. Further residual mass collected by the base of the bodies as the blood ran dry.
This residue was the source of his forebears' explosive problems. The powder was so fine it appeared invisible by the naked eye when within blood, but its comparative mass left it stranded after the blood had passed through the stone network.
Once ten minutes had passed, Abel used a little metal spatula to scrape off the powdered deposits to fill up a little wooden cup. This fresh, more accessible material was of higher quality than the slow, heavier deposits still making their way out from the body. The material needed to be separated at this point.
Quota satisfied, Abel set the cup atop his workbench, collected his lamps and left the room. These bodies ought to be left there overnight to drain entirely. Abel let his shoulders relax as he locked the mortuary door behind him and scaled the outside steps. The day was over. Finally.
Abel set foot back on earth and snapped up straight at the sight of two men marching down the road towards him once again. The muscles in his back and chest strained tightly and his neck grew red.
The pair of labourers wheeled forth yet another body upon their cart, though they slowed their marching as they clocked Abel’s expression. Reluctantly, they waddled forth and met Abel’s piercing glare.
One of the men opened his mouth as if to say something, caught Abel’s squirming temple, and then clamped it shut. In silence, the pair got to work, and each grabbed either end of Shale Kadran’s dead body.
“This way!” Spat Abel, and he motioned the pair down the narrow steps that led to his work-station.
“But what about-”
“It's only one man, isn’t it?” Interrupted Abel.
They nodded, and complied, slowly easing their way down the steps with Shale’s body draped between them.
Once the body lay upon the autopsy table, the men hurriedly departed. The outer door slammed shut behind them a few seconds later and they looked back with horror to find Abel tailing them.
“Sir, what about the-”
“I have finished work today!” He declared with a huff.
The trio stomped over to the wooden cart used for ferrying bodies. The two couriers grabbed the wooden drawbars and set off. But with a great crunch, Abel plonked into the wagon and laid out flat on his back.
The two men let go of the drawbars and the wagon toppled backwards, sending Abel sliding off the edge. He hit the ground with a shout.
“Hey! What the devil are you two doing!” He bellowed.
The pair walked up to him, eyebrows furrowed and one demanded, “I fail to see why we should treat you to anything you cranky old man!”
Abel sputtered in disbelief. “You two lazy oafs owe me a ride home at the very least, after leaving me behind to deal with all those bodies on my own! You sorry, pathetic, drivelling nitwits!”
They gaped at Abel for a few seconds before turning from him. Leaning in to each other, they hastily whispered something, and turned back to face the fuming undertaker.
“Is it possible Mr. Dren that you are mistaking us for…”
“Anton and Aylar?” Intersected the other. “We don’t believe we’ve met you before.”
The colour left Abel’s face and a gurgling groan escaped his lips.
“I see.” He clamped his eyes shut tightly, held them there and said, “My apologies gentlemen. You are?”
He opened his eyes to find the pair grinned at him. “Kerat and Pax. At your service sir.” They each made a little half bow.
Abel exhaled slowly, and began walking back to the stronghold without looking back.
Kerat and Pax gave each other a cursory glance.
“You think he bought it?” Whispered Pax.
“Almost certainly.” Replied Kerat.
The pair plodded over to the wagon, and hauled after Abel.
The trailing dust settled behind the three little black dots in the distance. The setting sun spilled across the horizon behind them. Bubbling gold droplets stretched wider and wider as pink light diffused into the sky above.
The hooked peak of Sorefen’s amber moon peeked up from the ground as warm pink light faded to darkness and scattered scintillating stars twinkled into existence. Magenta became violet, became indigo and the lurid smile of the moon smugly rose upwards and crested the sky.
Far across the barren plains the ravenous drone of a spindly, hungry beast swept towards the stooped watchtower and the bodies which lay below it. Atop a granite slab, Shale Kadran’s body convulsed and shone as a lone soul took a hold of it with explosive effect.
The morgue’s outer door, lined with enchantments, spells and pressed with spectral resistant bands exploded outwards when metal hands broke the seal. As falling splinters and thick dust settled behind the fleeing form of a new Shale Kadran, a whorling cloud of unseen spirits smelled the thick odour of death emanating from the mortuary.
They descended upon the mortuary as one.
A bioluminescent track of footprints guided the swarm through the broken autopsy room, under a stiff wooden door and directly towards the hanging corpse of Vaelin Forger. Though they no longer possessed eyes, five bodies burned brightly in the minds of the revenants. The swarm burst apart and a hundred screaming souls tore towards the corpses, batting off of each other. They ensnared themselves in trailing vaporous hate and desperately burrowed into the surfaces of the cold, quiet brains before them.
Vaelin’s body convulsed and swung through the air as the hook ground against the metal tracks above. Behind him, the bodies of the other four victims twitched and crackled with similar movement. Vaelin’s bloodless, wispy pale eyes opened and his jaw clenched. The sound of his teeth grinding together masked the rattling hooks.
A grunt broke free from Vaelin. His neck popped loudly and slowly the dead man stretched his torso upwards. Bile and rib fragments dropped from his abdominal cavity as his core buckled under the strain. Halfway up, Vaelin’s arms shot forwards and clung to legs.
The other revenants watched in fear as they observed the victor who possessed Vaelin Forger inch their torso upwards before sharply heaving their entire body downwards. The meat hook tore through his leg bones, and cleanly out of his calves. Free, Vaelin smacked into the ground, flat on his back without a shout.
Despite their mangled, mutilated body, the revenant flexed their arms, rolled their shoulders and flipped over onto their stomach. With their legs useless, all they could do was crawl forward to the other revenants. The revenants all neatly strung up in a line before them.
They snarled, spat and cursed at the victorious spectre, each desperately swinging around and trying to break free. But none were successful. The Revenant Puppet - Vaelin Forger, grinned a toothy smile and dragged forwards toward the others. He would need their flesh and their spirits to heal himself. Not all would be required of course, but he had never cared for competition.
Vaelin inhaled deeply, and found himself distracted by the intoxicating odour of blood and vitality some place else in the room. There was Bloom here, in high concentration. Vaelin exhaled slowly, calmly, though the wind whistled through his chest as he did.
“Now then, friend,” He addressed the gasping head swaying before him. “Thank you for the food.”
And Vaelin drove his fingers into the man’s left eye. He extracted the burst eyeball with pleasure and slurped it down with a grin.
In response, a soft blue light gently pulsed from his chest.