The battle in the narrow segment of the district adjacent to the headquarters, palace district slowly came to an end as the number of the undead dwindled. Before the group would have continued onwards, following the trail of grizzly corpses, a small contingent of healers caught up to them on the orders of the Lady Regent of Vhoragos, ready to patch up the wounded, replenish and soothe those on the threshold of consuming by the Rage of Acheryoth.
First to be rejuvenated were those far from the threshold, and they took of led by Saugh whilst Aelfsigior remained behind with the few legionaries and custodians incapable of continuing with them which included Azugh to the somewhat relief of Gna who marched behind Saugh with his battleaxe firmly held in both his hands no longer bleeding from the deep, blackened wounds left by a hawkish undead whose sharpened gloomy nails easily sliced through his thick, hardened muscles and thick layer of hide tunic’s long fur cuffed sleeves.
Along the way down the sloping street, they eliminated the small groups of undead still left behind whilst their accursed comrades seemed to flock towards the market square where the attack went down almost a week ago. “I got a bad feeling about this.” Gna said to Saugh as he dislodged his battle axe from the split open head of a gobokh undead whose bony tail winded beside him, sunken into the mud.
Saugh grunted in agreement as he lowered his heavy hammer’s head into the mud and reclined onto the flat, pentagonal end of the grip as he stared into the distance of the winding street beginning a new ascent just a few dozen meters from them. “Definitely a higher undead trying to lure us to itself.” For a moment, he turned back and looked if the others began to march after them, but when he saw nothing but the vacant street with a few terrified folk staring out their windows, a bit hopeful at seeing the band of legionaries and custodians, he sighed then gave the order in a manner of boosting the high morale of those surrounding troops including Gna who sniffed in a handful of the cold dusky air permeated by the rotten scent of the dead.
The metallic thud into the snowy soiled mud echoed through the streets as they picked up on their pace, swinging their weapons half-blindly at the few undead shrouded by the dimness of recesses between the edifices whom waited for the group, in a twisted way hoping to surprise them and take down at least a few of the custodians in the least before they reached the market place a few blocks away from where they stopped. Though one almost clawed out Gna’s left eye, but sensing the cold energies and his senses twinging he bent backward his whole upper body in a feat he was unsure if he was ever capable of, then pumping a combination muscle strengthening and bending spell, he swung his heavy axe through the waist of the undead barely recognizable at what was it was. The avian demikin tribune behind him with a long spear pierced through the gaunt head, ending the accursed existence still focused, crawling towards Gna following behind Saugh while ignoring the pain of his upper body bending backwards.
At the last archway before the marketplace the little group faltered before the dozens of undead in a square formation, silently waiting before they circled around the group whose sole veneficiar remained in the center, conjuring a barrier of dawn shade of amber and crimson while the rest formed a half functional shield wall thanks to Gna and Saugh choosing two handed weapons, even though the latter held it in one hand. Unlike the almost mindless with rage revenants of the Woodland, the raised dead waited patiently as their yet to be seen commander formulated a plan.
Although, in the end it chose a similar tactic, loading the weakest of the undead with nekrotic spells and commanding them to throw their decaying forms at the wall. Upon impact, a loud roar emanated through not just the block, but the whole city as their enervated forms erupted into black, dim violet and dusky crimson flames spreading onto the translucent wall of the barrier and upon the sixth or seventh suicidal undead, cracks began to appear on the glass smooth astral, domed barrier.
And through those cracks, a wickedly chilling and acidic gale broke through, and Gna found himself staring down to the ground where shadows creeped closer and closer towards them whilst he struggled to keep his eyes open amidst the caustic pain and welling of tears flowing down his gaunt, brutish face. “I did not miss all these.” He yelled with an awfully optimistic tone that made the others instinctively smile and even chuckle despite the situation they were in.
“Funny, I’m on the opposite. I missed these situations, with the excitement of theirs that truly make you feel alive.” The avian demikin veneficiar said in his resonant, yet not too deep voice as he closed down his eyes with feather like brows above them, then slapped his palms together and conjured a shockwave of golden flames from the barrier, sending a few of the miserable dead charging and loaded with self-destructive inscriptions into their own, lessening their numbers.
“Nice.” The young haubrian merkin said as his bulging eyes were incapable of closing thanks to being devoid of lids and was already used to the constant moistening of them by his body. “It may sound foolish, but can we actually strike through it?” Gna asked as he began to feel a bit bored, and the thought which lingered in his mind since his enlisting surfaced once more, this time choosing to voice it out.
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“You could, but they can pull you out so I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it.” The avian demikin said as his face contorted in a mix of joy and pain as he slowly meandered towards the threshold of the Rage. “What is life without a little excitement.” Saugh interjected before his fellow kin, Gna could utter the same orkish proverb. He boldly stepped forward, and swung his battle hammer with both hands this time, pouring inscriptions upon inscriptions into its head which upon impact sent an earthen wave towards the lines of undead waiting and charging towards them. When it reached them within the next five seconds, they all were thrown into the air like stringless puppets thrown from the crate, and landed just as Saugh altered the spell and conjured forth a dozen spikes onto which many of the undead ended up impaled or shattered into large pieces.
“That works too.” The avian whispered as his momentary terror of the barrier breaking upon letting a second spell phase through it changed to astonishment. Gna similarly stared while he furrowed his brows, trying to decipher the inscriptions to repeat the spell, but gave up and simply swung his axe out, severing the head of two conjoined undead rushing awkwardly thanks to their state.
When the last of the sacrificial undead numbers reached null, the air grew heavier and colder, an aethereal frost appearing on the barrier’s dented form and uncertainty which shall bloom into fear seeded their hearts. “I guess it finally decided to show itself.” The avian murmured furrowing his brows of ivory slender feathers with the tips hanging down as he looked up to the sky and saw on the top of the wall a decaying colossus emanating deepest darkness of the dusk from its three conjoined heads, one once a proud niuvhen warrior famed for the felling of numerous beasts terrorizing the northern settlements now rid of its dashing appearance, in its place a ghastly one staring at them in utter horror; the one in the middle a lupine head of wolven demikin half fully rotted down to the bone; and the one on the left staring at the city stretching towards the frozen precipice slithering around the threshold of the city, a once foolhardy barbarian of the northern human tribe who set off to solve the problem of vagrants like himself, yet now in the place of his eyes a vicious darkness lingered with a dim violet flicker in both its centers.
Below their gnarled, thick neck a body at least four to five meters tall of welted together bone, flesh and grim plates held the triumvirate of severed, tortured heads with minds fully wiped of their previous personality, now melded together into a singular one with a singular aim to carry out the will of Dusk and the one who bellowed the first hours of darkness onto all planes of mortal existence.
“Prepare yourselves. This will be a long night.” Saugh said as he stared daggers with the middle head of Bredhuogr, an undead abomination welted by the hands of practiced nekromancers, crafted for war.
**
“Hasten your steps!” At Aelfsigior’s command everyone pumped lightening inscriptions into their ankles and thighs, combined with muscles strengthening as they all increased their pace of rushing through the seemingly empty streets. At first, they walked with a slow, careful pace upon witnessing the hundreds of corpses littering the streets, but as they reached nearer to Saugh’s group, Aelfsigior felt a chill akin but lesser to the self-proclaimed queen of the Woodland hitting against his face, his soul gnarling his nerves.
When they reached the block where Saugh, Gna and the six other legionaries and custodians were halted by the disciplined dead, Eadwald and Azugh trembled mildly as the draught of otherworldly chill breezed through them. The two still inexperienced and lacking the protections carved into the souls of legionaries and custodians, had a harder time facing the Decaying Colossus who wrought itself upon the group whose few members laid motionless in the mud and snow with their chest caved in by the hit of its bizarre mace made out from what looked like a transfusion of bones and stone with the luster of polished glass, shimmering with a sinister shade of violet and black.
Before they could catch up and join in to aid Saugh and Gna dueling the Decaying Colossus, several dozen undead clad in silvery and black plates burst forth the arch leading into the market square and impeded into their way. The tip of his spear altered its shape as he swung it diagonally, mowing down, cleaving through at least four of the undead, while the fifth’s thick round trimmed armor stopped the elongated blade of the spear. It grabbed onto the shaft and pulled Aelfsigior towards it rotten form. He curled his free hand into a fist and stroke towards its emaciated face missing its lower jaw. Amplified by magic, Aelfsigior’s fist easily passed through bone, metal and dried rotten flesh and as the head seemingly exploded into chunks, the dark mist emanating within the distorted form dissipated into the night as it collapsed before his feet.
Whilst he reached for the handle of his short blade while poking through two more undead, he took a quick glance at Eadwald cleaving undead after undead with his blade stemming with a thick and radiant haze that latched onto their bodies and soul cleansing the latter. Azugh on the other hand plunged his axe into the neck opening of another armor clad undead, then pulled it closer while crushed its head with his own before moving onto the next one.
They slowly mowed through the columns of dead, losing a few of their own whose vacant eyes seemed to stare at his back as he continued to momentarily check on the well-being of the others to ease the slight worry in his heart.
Then a scream reached his ears and as he looked over the rows, noticed Saugh lifted into the air, the massive arm of the Colossus forced through it with gut and blood dripping from the bony hand with sharp fingers. Parts of his ivory breastplate glinting in the mud and snow, then a crash followed as the accursed creature threw his cadaver across the undead and living, through the thick walls of an edifice where it landed amongst the lifeless forms of its residents who met their grizzly fate earlier in the night.
His anger filled roar echoed through the streets as he gripped his spear and short sword and charged at the Colossus, all its six eyes meeting his tired old blue gaze of centuries, poisoned once more by the hatred of loss.