Bones creaked like old floors as skeletons prowled through the trees, their eyes alight with unnatural fire that blazed with the color of topaz. These undead creatures moved like puppets on strings, their movement unnatural and forced.
A blue glow illuminated around Otai for a moment before disappearing. The Battle Lord cursed silently, still unable to draw out mana from his body. His dark eyes steadied on the skeletons moving toward him and his sleeping men.
The first skeleton made it to a slave wrapped in linen. Its cold bony fingers grabbed the slave bundle and walked away as if it had picked up a package meant for it. More skeletons arrived and started to grab the other slaves along with the Badlanders.
Seeing his tribesmen get taken, Otai’s eyes reddened and veins pulsed from beneath his skin as he tried to force himself to rise. Nothing could be done. Caden’s poison had been effective.
A shriek of delight caught the Badlander’s attention, “Oh, are my eyes playing tricks on me or is this a Soul Expropriator from the second era?” Otai raised his head slightly and saw a figure hidden by a black cloak he wore. The hooded man was pilfering what was supposed to be Caden’s reward chest. “This is fate that I should have this.” The stranger suddenly turned and spotted Otai.
The Battle Lord grimaced seeing as he’d been noticed and leaned his head back down. The sound of steps closed in on him.
“What a marvel.” Otai looked up to see the hooded man standing over him and saw beneath the hood, a man with pale skin, “To think I’d be able to procure such a hardy experiment subject such as you.” The pale man smiled, “You should consider yourself lucky. Not many would have the honor of being a part of the work of the great Zini!”
Cold fingers grabbed Otai by the feet. He tried to shout but the poison in his veins only allowed him a weak murmur as a skeleton dragged him away.
Grass parted and flowers leaned on a sparse grassland inside the forest as something passed by. Only the top of a pack was visible moving about. The pack paused when skeletons appeared around the grassland. After a few moments, when the skeletons passed, the pack resumed its journey.
The pack popped out from the tall grass and a gnome could be seen carrying it. He was quite well into his years—his hair white and his face lined with wrinkles, yet his cheeks still held a cheery rosy color. His brows were like white brushes that hid away his eyes and covering half his face was a white beard. Atop his balding head was a red cone hat, which was popular among gnomes. Behind him, strapped to his back, was a multilayered bundle made of various packs, pouches, and tools, even some wooden planks could be seen, all tied together by numerous types of rope or twine.
Outside of cover, the gnome remained vigilant. The creaking of bones that the skeletons emitted faded into the distance. He took this chance to gain distance before dashing into a hole in the trunk of a tree. He waited in silence, his blue eyes peering out of the hole at his surroundings, and he could see that all seemed at ease. His pointy red shoes padded against the ground as the gnome advanced quickly again until he dove into cover. The gnome waited once more within a dense bush, his tall bundle poking out from the top.
Nothing worrisome turned up. He took off once more.
A smile grew on his face, making his rosy cheeks all the redder. Today was the day he would pluck the Soulaway, a flower that bloomed once every hundred years. He had only recently stumbled upon the flower, and it took all his willpower to keep from picking it prematurely for the sake of the herb's protection, but the wait would now be worth it.
As an alchemist, the gnome was ecstatic to have discovered such a rare herb.
The gnome moved through a familiar route while staying attentive to potential dangers. Recently, the dead have started stalking these woods. The gnome was unaware of their purpose for being here. He could only be grateful that they had no interest in herbs and didn’t interfere too much with his work, though too many undead frequented where the herb grew, which denied the gnome's desire to make camp there.
The forest opened up into a clearing ahead of him. Rays of the sun shone down through an opening in the canopy, seeming as if heaven was smiling on this part of the forest. The gnome took the heavenly scene as a favorable sign. During the recent storm, he had to fight back the urge to come check on the Soulaway flower. Now that he was here and all was well within the clearing, he was certain everything was bound to turn out for the best.
Arriving at a small hill, his tiny body scrambled to the top. The Soulaway should have been waiting for him atop the hill, between two slender trees and surrounded by shrubbery, but no such flower showed up. Instead, there was a young man wrapped in linen sleeping where the plant should have been.
The gnome's face became drawn, and his wrinkles appeared to deepen. His feelings were emptied by shock only to be refilled instantly by an unquenchable rage.
"You heinous human!" the gnome’s high-pitched voice screamed. "You horrible, hulking, hapless, hateful, hideous human!"
Roused awake, the young man in linen lifted his head and noticed the short creature hurling insults at him. He turned over while unfurling the linen that had been wrapped around him, exposing wiry muscles with abs that resembled carved stone.
The gnome’s voice stuttered to a standstill upon seeing how robust the human was. He also observed that the leather binding the human's arms and legs showed heavy use, which bore obvious signs of battle on the fists and shin portions. The young man attempted to rise, but he couldn’t move past a kneeling position. The gnome noticed the linen was stuck to the human’s abdomen, caked with blood on top of a heavy wound. The human was hurt.
The broken form of the Soulaway flower with marigold petals outlined by black caught the gnome’s eye. Looking back at the human and his injured state, gave the gnome confidence to vent his fury, “You witless worm. You gawky giant. You brain dead boy. You malefic man.”
The young man seemed confused but when he attempted a response, he could only whisper it tiredly, “What happened, sir dwarf?”
The gnome’s face became red and hissed, “How dare you, you ugly boy? I am no dwarf.”
“Elf?”
The gnome became quiet. He couldn’t believe anyone was this dense and considered that the human may have been mocking him. With narrowed eyes, he retorted, "Keep your insults to yourself, you gangly nitwit. I am a gnome! Those tinkerers of machines and elven layabouts can’t compare to us who harness the power of nature through alchemy!" The gnome then pointed to the destroyed flower and accused, "And you’ve disturbed my work. You destroyed my flower, human!"
The young man held his injury and grunted, "I’m sorry. My manager has money. I’m sure Dwindle will give you some."
"This flower is priceless, you inept slug. There is no way to replace—"
"Run," the young man interrupted.
"How dare you speak when I’m speak—"
The young man raised a weak hand and pointed. When the gnome turned around, he could make out pairs of eyes ablaze with topaz-colored fire approaching the clearing. The undead had come. The gnome was so engrossed in his aggravation that he lost sight of what was happening around him.
An audible gulp came from of his throat.
He searched beyond the young man on the opposite side of the clearing for an escape route, only to find more sets of glowing eyes closing off that way as well. The bundle he carried fell to the ground as the gnome scoured the packs for items to aid him. Soon, glass vials of liquid were pulled out. Sweat wet his face as he made a few calculations of what he needed to do to create an opening to escape.
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He murmured to himself, "Of all the times to be an alchemist only skilled in soul augmentation…" Within his grasp were a single health potion, two combustion potions, and potions for his soul augmenting work. "Perhaps I can create a fire barrier…"
The white hair on his head swayed while the gnome nodded in completing an escape plan in his mind. He faced the young man again. "Best of luck, human," he said sincerely, reequipping his pack. He then turned around and started sprinting. Getting to the edge of the clearing where the walking skeletons were most sparse, he sent out the vials of combustion potions and set fire to the grass and trees ahead of him, leaving a narrow path for him to use.
That should keep them off me long enough to escape, he thought.
Two walls of fire licked at him as he ran through the narrow path, the heat causing sweat to drip from beneath his red cap and down his face. The gnome neared the end of the flames, joy suffused his expression. A skeletal hand reached through the flames and grabbed at him.
The gnome hiccupped and slid beneath the hand's grasp. Regret pulled at him seeing his cone hat was snatched off his head, but he could do nothing about it. His pointy red shoes were a blur as the gnome imbued mana to gain speed. He was determined to escape.
Four burning skeletons walked through the flames and blocked his way. He had miscalculated, thinking the skeletons would fear fire. The gnome hiccupped again and skidded to a stop, then turned and hurried back to the hill, the best vantage point of the clearing.
On his return, he was panting heavily. He wanted to catch his breath, but more skeletons were present atop the hill. But before he ran away, he noticed the bones weren’t moving. In examining the top of the hill, the gnome saw that the skeletons had been broken into pieces. Skulls were crushed, femurs were broken in half, and other bones were smashed into pieces.
His blue eyes looked to see the young man still on the ground, heaving in and out weary breaths. He was pale and seemed to be on the verge of collapsing at any time. But in his eyes, there shone a drive to clutch victory.
The young man saw the gnome had returned and remarked tiredly, "You should run, sir gnome."
Calculations flashed through the gnome's head, attempting to determine what to do next. The sun's rays reflected off the remaining glass vials in his palm. He looked from the vials at the young man, then nodded.
"Human, I would like to make a proposition," the gnome offered.
"My manager makes all the deals," the young man explained, "I just fight."
"Well, I just need you to fight a few of these skeletons. Nothing too complicated." The gnome held up a glass vial containing a red liquid. "This is a health potion designed to cure wounds. I’ve acquired this particular one from the most talented alchemist on this side of Eronia. You use it and help me escape this place."
The young man went into deep thought, which caused the gnome to become perplexed. The deal clearly benefited them both significantly. There would be no reason to refuse.
"Will you forgive me for lying on top of your flower if I agree?" the young man asked after a few moments.
The beginnings of a smile tugged at the edge of the gnome’s bearded mouth. "Sure," he replied, his blue eyes softening a bit. "Get me out of here alive, and I swear I’ll never bring the topic up again." The young man seemed to be pure, and the gnome found it difficult to dislike him in that moment.
The young man received the health potion, and its contents drained as he drank it all in a single gulp. The red liquid flowed into his bloodstream and spread its magic throughout his body. The ripped flesh reknit itself on his abdomen, filling the hole there. His pallor returned. His muscles contracted in a burst and then contracted again.
"I’m called Polopp, by the way," the gnome introduced himself, watching air distortions appear like swarms of insects around the young man’s shifting muscles.
The young man’s eyes seemed to glow as he responded, "I’m Red." Beneath his feet, the ground cracked when he began to move. Behind a tree, he pulled out a hidden skeleton and threw it in an "S" pattern before slamming it to the ground. Touching down, the skeleton scattered into pieces like struck glass.
The golem hiccupped upon witnessing the skeleton being treated like a sack of potatoes.
Another skeleton sprang from behind a bush. The young man named Red ran up to it and jumped, kneeing the skeleton’s skull and turning it into powder from the sheer force of the impact. Another skeleton ran to grapple with Red, who, in response, kicked one of its legs off and, while spinning out of the kick, came back with a spinning back fist. When it lost its leg, the skeleton was tilting over unbalanced when the back of a fist exploded its skull into a burst of topaz-colored flames and bits of white bone.
A skeleton almost managed to grab Red from behind, but Red suddenly dropped to the ground, rolled, caught one of the creature's skeletal legs in his arms, and ripped it off. After collapsing, the skeleton had to watch a leather-bound foot kick its head off its shoulders.
The gnome gulped. He felt in that moment that he should’ve added as part of the deal that Red forgave him for his insults earlier. He didn’t know what he’d do if the young man took his harsh words to heart.
Red high kicked another skull off, then found two other skeletons, punched one in half, and kicked the other into two pieces. Both their skulls were then obliterated by stomps.
"This is it, honorable human!" Polopp cried out, now far more respectable than before, "Our chance to escape has come!"
Red couldn't hear him; he was consumed by combat, too busy crushing and breaking all the undead that had crept into the clearing. Before long, he had circled the entirety of the clearing and destroyed everything made of bone in the process. Topaz fire gathered in the sky above and expanded into a blaze that discolored the area in its light. The skeletal fragments scattered about from Red’s rampage began to accumulate upward, into the sky, with the fire above absorbing them all to construct a skeleton greater in size and denser than the ones before.
"That seems like trouble…!" Polopp exclaimed, alarmed. He would have fled if the scene hadn't been so fascinating.
The new skeleton descended, wrapped in fire the color of topaz, with its hollow eyes blazing with the same type of flames. Its teeth clattered up and down as it moved its head erratically like an insect. Its bones creaked like a ship's hull during a storm. The flames surrounding it crackled.
Polopp was at a loss for words. What was occurring clearly showed the work of an experienced necromancer. Why such a skilled necromancer would be hiding away in an insignificant forest such as this was unexplainable.
The skeleton ceased rattling and became still. A skeletal finger rose as it pointed at Red, an issue of a challenge clear in its movements.
A voice, loud and clear, caught Polopp’s attention, “And in this corner,” the voice rang across the clearing. Polopp saw Red had suddenly begun shouting. "Weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds, the reigning and defending gypsy brawling champion: Red Rumble!"
Red began to hop on his toes as he threw out punches that Polopp couldn’t keep track of. Red had become faster in the face of the flaming skeleton’s challenge. The gnome’s blue eyes focused in on something peculiar happening with Red—something had changed in him.
What in the realms is happening to that young man? Polopp thought, his alchemist mind revolving with deep interest.
The flaming skeleton’s teeth rattled together in response to Red’s shouting. It had gained an ego. With as much magic that had poured into it, the skeleton had developed a mind of its own. The ground beneath its skeletal feet cracked when the undead creature launched forward.
“Red!” Polopp shouted, warning the young man.
Red smirked. The flaming skeleton appeared before Red in seconds. Red’s body flexed as if he were about to move. The skeleton’s teeth clattered together rapidly as it dodged. Yet nothing had happened. It landed yards away. The skeleton looked to Red’s face and saw him smirking still. Red had psyched it out.
The skeleton had dodged a feint.
Clattering teeth sounded along with roaring flames. Dirt flew up as the flaming skeleton went forward again. Red’s muscles flexed with tiny air distortions popping around him, the ground beneath him broke apart. The skeleton backed off and prepared a counter.
Nothing came from Red. It was another feint.
The flaming skeleton’s fiery eyes focused in on the smirk still upturning Red’s mouth. The ego the creature had formed became indignant. Without preempt, the skeleton clawed at Red’s face. The young man dipped low and threw an overhand at the same moment, his punch looping over the clawing skeletal hand, landing flush on a jawbone, cracking it. The topaz fire in the undead creature’s eyes blanked to black before reigniting.
The skeleton wasn’t sure what happened. It had lost consciousness for a moment. Before it could reorient its thoughts, another attack landed.
An uppercut found its way to its chin, the force from the punch standing the skeleton straight up to the tips of its bone toes. Another punch hit almost within the same second as the uppercut, this punch hitting against the skeleton’s exposed spine, folding the skeleton in on itself and launching it backward.
It rolled through dirt, clawing into the ground to stop its momentum until coming to a halt.
The flaming skeleton’s fire began to dim. Its bones had been cracked with portions having already fallen off. Its skull looked up to see that Red was missing. When its skull began to turn to search, a leather-bound fist from the skeleton’s blindside hit it across its cheekbone, shattering the bone there like dropped porcelain. It still couldn’t catch sight of Red as another punch landed, destroying its skull completely.
Red had come at the skeleton at an angle, ensuring that he was out of its line of sight. In the brief time the undead creature had to look for him, Red had enough time to accurately land his attacks without the skeleton able to react with a counter or retreating.
The topaz colored flames went out like a torch dipped into water. The flaming skeleton had perished, quicker than it had formed.
Polopp’s mouth couldn’t close as his blue eyes became unblinking. The insults he’d lobbed at Red when they first met weighed heavy on the gnome.