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Chapter 5 - Raise Me Up

Impureheart carved through the ribcage of the last dire wolf, the yelp of pain the last noise before the furred body dropped limp to the floor. Corpsescrew turned around to survey the scene, wanting to wipe the sweat from his brow from muscle memory, but having no need to. They had lost a handful of zombies in the attack, but- as he put his hand on the felled beast - they had gained four undead wolves.

The wolf clambered back up to its feet, foul light now illuminating two malicious eyes. It nuzzled against his leg, and he gave it pets. Corpsescrew had never had a pet before. Although for some reason there was an inclination to try and ride the newly acquired good-boys, he fought against it. Instead, he settled for giving more head scritches.

“We building an army, sir?” An elderly - or at least pre-death he would have been old - zombie asked him. There was a hint of reproach in the groans of undead man, some apprehension about the new path the death knight had taken them on.

“No, we are just making new friends that will ensure our safety as we travel.” Corpsescrew looked to the sky. The lighter hue of dawn approaching was no good; they would need to find shelter. Something about rotting flesh being out in the sun just seemed like a bad idea. They still had a couple of days of travel to make, and he was getting tired of all the complaining and accusations of plotting against Mistress Death.

He hadn’t even met the supposed necromancer yet. How was he to know whether he wanted to supplant her or not? She obviously had better things to do than look after her flock. Despite their whining and moaning, he had come to be fond of the ramshackle group of walking dead. Enough to where it didn’t feel right to allow them to be expendable pawns in some greater scheme that they were a cog in - yet they had to adhere to limiting rules.

If anything he just wanted to renegotiate with the necromancer. And then if she got in his way of taking over the world, then she could die. Corpsescrew wondered if he could raise a necromancer from the dead, and whether that necromancer would have raising-dead powers still. What if his powers were granted through her - would there be a weird loop of each other raising each other? Would they both die without reanimating?

The shadows of the woods twisted and lengthened as the sun began to rise. Thankfully the tree cover would keep most of the drying rays of light off the shambling horde for now, but they couldn’t stay amongst the trees forever otherwise it would increase their already slow pace to the castle.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

One of the wolves who had been scouting ahead of the main group came snuffling back to the death knight. He called this one Eyepatch on account of the collapsed ocular socket. “What’s that boy? Got something to show me?”

They followed the foul hound up a slight detour, and as the trees cleared the mouth of a cave presented itself against a slight rocky hill. The other wolves (Angry, Daisy, and Wolfy) ran their undead noses along the floor along the cave entrance, sucking up dust and some manner of novel scent from the area.

“This could be a reasonable place to shade ourselves until dusk,” Corpsescrew reasoned to the small crowd of unliving behind him.

“Doggies seem to be nervous though, boss.”

Corpsescrew withdrew Impureheart and approached the cavern entrance. He struck the stone sides of the opening, sending a metallic clang echoing within the darkness beyond.

“Lo to any beast or man residing within this cave - fight or yield as it has been claimed by the servants of the eternal night, and the endless abyss of death itself.”

His voice, still a garbled mess of groans and yells, reverberated into silence. A few moments of no response, and then - the slight sound of movement. The four dire wolves backed up and hunched low, emitting deep growls.

As the sound of footfalls grew nearer, a shape emerged into the brief light of the early day. A massive bear, easily a dozen feet from paw to shoulder, lumbered out on all fours. The large creature took one brief sniff of the amassed undeath at its doorstep and roared in return, dagger-sized teeth filling the wide maw as the shout echoed through the forest below.

Corpsescrew lept into action, arcing the sword in an upwards swing - but the bear was faster, beating out his slowed dexterity and knocking the death knight spawling into the dried earth surrounding the rocky cave. He rolled to his feet and stumbled backwards from the momentum - he was sure he was nimbler when… when would that have been? The distraction of the dire wolves nipping at the wide paws of the bear gave him enough time to recollect himself.

“Stay back,” he warned the zombies. As much as they could work an advantage in terms of numbers, he would surely lose too many of them in the process. And he had even started to give some of them names, like Old Guy and Lady Face.

With the closest approximation to a sprint, he rushed back into the fray - circling around to try and find a blind spot. Wolfie was batted away as the bear tried to turn and focus on the death knight, growling with rage as one of the other undead wolves bit into a back leg. The giant bear reared up onto its hind legs, now towering over all present, and Corpescrew lashed out at the closest foot. The bear stumbled back and then threw its weight downwards to bite down at the attacker.

Corpsescrew crouched to brace for impact and then leapt straight upwards into the encroaching maw.

With a crunch and whine, Impureheart cut through the inside of the top of the mouth and into the skull of the bear, entrapping the death knight.

The bear raised itself from the floor, and sat peacefully, yellow eyes glowing in the morning in the shade of morning light.

“Well,” a voice came from behind Corpsescrew, “That was pretty impressive, [redacted].”