”I am not dead? I am not dead. I am not dead! Am I not dead?” Anastacia feverishly chanted at the corner of the temple, where Leggy had dragged her to get the necromancer out of the line of fire of the hostile simulacra on the rooftops, who were by the looks of it armed with crossbows and had already sighted the two. While mumbling almost incoherently, she kept rubbing her neck to be absolutely sure, but even if the hand never had any blood on it, she still found it hard to focus on anything.
Being forced to take point on the operation, Leggy every now and then peeked out of the open doorway to make sure no one was approaching the temple. Every time a small volley of bolts whizzed past her as the simulacra on the nearby rooftops took a shot at anything that moved. Otherwise things seemed to be calm around the square, a group of three simulacra with spears and large rectangular shields had positioned themselves at the bottom of the stairs but appeared to be perfectly content with staying there for the time being.
While obviously unaware of some fairly important basic functions of humans, Leggy most certainly wasn’t at all versed in matters of the mortal minds. While she had learned about Anastacia’s brief death on their visit to Crescent, she found no connection between that and the barely avoided reenactment of it, and as such, didn’t understand why the necromancer was out of commission again. Between the occasional peek outside, Leggy went through the arsenal of solutions regarding Anastacia she had learned over the past couple of days. However, when patting her head, poking her cheek and holding her hand didn’t bring any results, the Venator was starting to get desperate. Luckily, she had noticed something that never failed to get Anastacia’s attention.
Leggy stood next to the cowering necromancer and gently bumped the side of her leg against Anastacia’s cheek. With what seemed like pure instinct, Anastacia’s hand moved from her throat to the smooth stone armor and started caressing it. The whirring sounds of Leggy’s mechanical pieces had become somewhat louder after she had lost her cape, but Anastacia found the still faint purr extremely relaxing and the curved stone plate that had been worn down by thousands of years of running around in various places and weathers was beyond pleasing to touch. Suddenly the necromancer snapped awake and found herself clinging tightly onto the simulacrum.
Finally able to collect her thoughts, Anastacia ran her hand over her throat once more, just to be sure, and let go. “Okay, maybe dying kind of bothers me still… Would’ve been nice to find that out literally anywhere else, but good job with bringing me back!” She said and shook her head to clear her thoughts.
Looking around for somewhere to start, the necromancer grabbed the bowl she had stolen from the maintenance depot and figured that it was just reflective enough for her needs. She took a few deep breaths and gingerly held it in the doorway, at an angle where she could get a reasonable view of the square. She could see the three simulacra immediately outside, but had trouble making out anything beyond that and certainly couldn’t see how many there were on the roofs.
She screamed in horror as the bowl was shot out of her hand with a volley of four bolts, each hitting almost precisely at the same time and directly in the middle, making a single large hole into the bowl.
“Okay, so four assholes and three guys with spears…” She recounted after calming down again. She tried to search the surroundings for anything her necromancy worked on, but nothing in her range even slightly resonated with her powers, which complicated matters a whole lot.
They had other weapons to spare, but next to no skill with them. At least the opposition seemed exceedingly fragile for simulacra, so there was a decent chance that a respectable thwack, even if delivered by Anastacia, would have been enough to break something. Their Movements were rather slow as well and running was definitely an option, but the exemplary marksmanship of the crossbowmen would have cut that plan short without a doubt. So, no matter what their plan was, the crossbows needed to go. Anastacia took a look at the destroyed bowl on the floor and then compared it to Leggy’s metal bits. While the bolts would have no doubt bounced off King like pretty much everything else, the Venator wasn’t built like a moving castle and would have likely taken some serious damage from an ill-placed shot. Though Leggy had seemed unusually spry and strong after she had been jolted by Anastacia in the orchard and being able to catch a bolt from the air suggested that she may have been able to at least avoid getting hit, there was no telling how true that theory was, and it definitely wasn’t one Anastacia was about to test so lightly.
“What would Gilbert do…” The necromancer muttered. The old adventurer frequently came at odds with things that were more suited for Anastacia, Emilia or King to deal with, yet generally was the one who got the rest of the party out of trouble through actually knowing what he was doing and being equipped to deal with more or less anything. Even after months of questing together, it often felt like he was there to fix every issue caused by everyone else’s incompetence. He would have no doubt been able to come up with a plan in no time if put in their situation. “What was it? ‘Know what you have, what you are and what you can do. Learn where you are and what is there.’” She recited in a gruff voice to mimic her mentor.
Knowing what they had was the simple part, they had a plentiful supply of sharpened sticks and blunt clubs in various shapes and sizes, three crystalline daggers, an enchanted knife that made things bleed mead, some simulacrum cores, assortment of basic equipment both stolen from the shop and kept in Anastacia’s belt, two apples and a hunk of ice.
“…what you are… What does that even mean? I’m Anastacia, an adventurer, a necromancer, a mage… You’re Leggy, a venator, cute and nimble, I guess? Not going to lie, this isn’t helping…” She muttered and scratched her head. “I can, melt and freeze water on touch, throw fire and…”
Suddenly a plan started to come together in her head. She was an ice mage with access to a whole hunk of ice and the ability to activate the crystal at the middle of the square with her voice. With her was someone who had just effortlessly kicked down large doors and who didn’t mind being thrown fire at.
The first thing she needed to find out exactly how fast the simulacra could reload their crossbows, and how automated their function really was. To do this, she sang out the tune that activated the white crystal in the middle of the square as loudly as she could. Though it took a bit longer than before, she could hear the resonating tone it let out once activated. Soon enough, she could hear the sounds that still sent shivers down her spine as the simulacra tried to shoot at the recordings appearing by the edge of the of the square. Counting the seconds between the shots each time, she could tell that the crossbows could fire roughly every fifteen seconds, and always did so in unison. They also didn’t appear to mind the ineffectiveness of their bolts against the transient tricks of light played out by the crystal and kept on firing at them rhythmically. This was all very good news for her and Leggy, as fifteen seconds was more than enough for the venator to make it into the cover of the surrounding buildings. Anastacia herself didn’t have as much faith in her speed and couldn’t do much there, but when asked, Leggy appeared confident in that she could take the crossbows out on her own as long as they weren’t aiming at her.
The next step would be getting rid of the three simulacra that patiently waited only a couple of meters away, with their shields and spears readied at all times. There were more of such simulacra a bit further away, but they were somewhat distracted by the recording and didn’t prevent Leggy from slipping out of the temple. To fix the situation, Anastacia had Leggy push the chunk of ice, still good for almost ten liters of water, into the doorway. Obviously, it was peppered with crossbow bolts only a few seconds later, but the splinters they chipped off only helped her cause. She then covertly touched the tip of her crystalline dagger at the chunk and began melting it. The water quickly found its way into the stairs and down them, directly into the feet of the simulacra. Hoping that they were as fragile as they appeared, Anastacia placed both of her hands into the pool of water and froze it all again as fast as she could, doing her best to grow the ice crystals larger at the other end of the pool, but with such a limited amount of water, there was only so much she could do. Luckily, it didn’t take much to split even the largest of stones as long as there was a crack, and the cracking of the stone parts in the flimsy simulacra’s feet coming apart almost immediately was a welcome sound. Their heelless feet were unable to support the rest of their frame, and the high-pitched scream-like whirrs followed by quite a bit of clatter made it clear the plan had worked. Anastacia repeated the process just in case and ended up completely shutting one of them down as it had fallen on its chest and the water seeped into the socket where its core was. The other two were severely damaged and only barely able to crawl, much less able to use their weapons.
“I actually can’t believe that worked… like at all.” The necromancer marveled at the success and dried her hands with her shirt. “Are you ready for part two?”
Leggy nodded and got into position where she was out of sight but able to dash out as soon as Anastacia signaled her.
The apprentice mage limbered up her joints and hopped in place a few times before once more singing the tone to activate the recording and distract the marksmen. Once she heard the bolts release and hit the paved ground as they pointlessly passed through the recorded forms, she spinning her hands until two fist-sized orbs of flame gathered above them, the faster she did it, the brighter the orbs became. In a few seconds she combined them into a single white-hot blob that already charred her clothes and a few strands of hair just by being so close to her.
Waiting for one more volley of bolts to hit the ground, Anastacia yelled something that may have just been a series of noises caused by the pain of being slowly toasted by the orb she held. Regardless, Leggy took it as the signal and dashed out of the door to pick up one of the shields from the broken-down simulacra. As she stood there, she took careful note of the locations of the marksmen and entrances to the nearby buildings.
The next volley of bolts was directed at the Venator instead of the recordings that were playing out the part where Ivory made friends with King, but being equipped with a shield, she could easily block them without having to move.
As soon as Anastacia heard the distinct sound of crossbow bolts hitting metal instead of stone, she stepped out of the temple and with as flashy of a movement as possible, threw the orb at the ground right by Leggy – after that, there was nothing but fire.
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Something Anastacia and her party had observed over the past months was that the volume of fire the necromancer could usher forth was downright terrifying, but its ability to burn anything was downright laughable. It burned hair and cloth just fine, but even something as simple as lighting a campfire required more than a bit of flailing about. In this case, however, it was exactly what the pair needed. The entire square was engulfed in bright flames from wall to wall, making the visibility for anyone not inside the storm of fire pretty much zero.
Leggy ran off to proceed with her part of the plan and Anastacia advanced out of the temple, spinning and dancing as flagrantly as she could. There was a specific choreography she had come up with to entertain the goblins with as much fire as possible, and being able to do it completely unhindered actually felt freeing, though not freeing enough to make her forget that she could at any moment catch a randomly shot crossbow bolt in the face. For over half a minute, she sustained an ever-growing storm of fire that blocked the view of the marksmen and prevented them from taking a shot at her. At its peak, the flames almost cascaded all the way up to the artificial sun, filling the chamber’s ceiling with pitch-black smoke.
When the fire finally died down, leaving behind the completely charred town square, with modestly burning houses in every direction and a whole lot of smoke, the venator had disappeared completely, and in front of the temple was only a small necromancer, hiding behind two large shields she very much hoped would protect her. She screamed in absolute horror as the first volley of three bolts bounced off the shields, causing a few significant dents in them. Yet, Anastacia knew she couldn’t just cover behind them forever, as the other simulacra patrolling the square had started to approach menacingly. The fire had distracted them for a time but being lightly toasted didn’t do much beyond angering them and gather their attention in the end. Too preoccupied to actually count them, Anastacia estimated there to be about fifteen to twenty, most equipped with swords and axes, but a few more of the spearmen were also helming the group.
Deafeningly screaming the entire time, the adventurer counted seconds between volleys while dragging the shields towards the nearest alley whenever she deemed it to be safe and hiding behind them to wait for the bolts to hit them again when appropriate. The temple itself and a couple of doors into the burning houses were closer than the alley and would have protected her just the same from the marksmen, but she wasn’t equipped to get cornered by the other simulacra after getting trapped inside them. However, even if the simulacra were taking their time, the shields were bulky and heavy, and Anastacia played very safe with her timing, so her movement was slowed so much that she quickly lost her head start.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, duck…” She repeated and hid behind the shields until the final pair of bolts hit them before she could leave them behind and make a dash into the alley.
Naturally, things were never so simple for poor Anastacia, and behind the corner was yet another simulacrum, waiting with its spear and shield readied. With her pursuers only a few seconds behind her at that point, the necromancer didn’t have time to be indecisive and employed one of the methods she had seen Gilbert and Emilia use against such foes. Barely within the spear’s range, she used a vambrace of her new stone armor to bat the blade to the side, swiftly moved past it all the way up to the shield, and with all her might, tugged on the shaft to disorient its wielder and gain just a bit of extra force as she slammed against the shield. When performed by the old adventurer or the priestess, they typically didn’t need to put as much of their weight into it and could rely on their strength, but Anastacia didn’t really have that option and ended up just throwing herself at the shield, hoping for the best. Interestingly enough, even that was a bit overkill, as the spindly simulacrum toppled almost without any resistance and let out a satisfying crunch under the large shield before the lights on its body flickered out.
While scrambling back up, Anastacia came to the conclusion that their opponents must have been as disposable as possible, as they were designed to be destroyed in the course of the combat exercise. The realization gave her some hope, but they were still numerous and very capable of killing anyone who didn’t take them seriously, so the relief did come with a small caveat.
Before she had the chance to celebrate too much or run off, her pursuers found their way into the alley and began to push onwards, spearheaded by three more spear-wielding simulacra. Even if they didn’t have a small horde of others behind them, the same technique had no chance of working against more than one at a time, so the only course of action left was to run.
The other end of the narrow alley between two large buildings opened up to one of the smaller streets in the mock town, and luckily one not watched by anyone from the rooftops, as Anastacia failed to peek around the corner before rushing past it. Down the street, in both directions, were a couple more simulacra that had been patrolling the area and didn’t immediately notice the necromancer. To avoid detection and getting stuck between them and the group behind her, Anastacia crashed through the door of the nearest house with a second-floor balcony she could see.
The house was furnished in the same annoyingly identical and bland style as every other one she had seen in the town and offered very little in terms of equipment or shelter. Using her newly acquired hammer, in her path she tipped over every piece of furniture in she could to hinder the simulacra’s chase. While it wasn’t much, it did give her the moment she needed after rushing upstairs. The conveniently narrow staircase at the back of the house led to the second floor, that consisted of three completely identical bedrooms and the path to the balcony. Though she had initially planned just to delay the group after her by having them climb all the way upstairs in a neatly ordered line and maybe lure in one of the two smaller groups on the street to clear a path in any direction, a sturdy drawer right at the top of the staircase gave her an idea. Tackling it as hard as she could, Anastacia managed to move it to the stairs and kick it down onto the oncoming group of simulacra, taking out a few of them. As the surviving ones began climbing over their fallen brethren, she made her exit via the balcony by nimbly descending along one of the wooden support beams.
Sadly, the simulacra patrolling the street had merely gotten curious about the clamor but didn’t enter the house along with the other ones, so Anastacia had to choose a direction and face the pair of simulacra there. Figuring that it was the direction Leggy was in, she headed away from the temple and swung her hammer to prepare for an actual fight. While her training consisted almost entirely of watching her more combat-inclined friends, the movements of the simple simulacra were slow in comparison to even a moderately trained bandit, and since being quick was one of her only advantages, the necromancer didn’t hate her odds.
This quickly changed as soon as one of them actually swung its axe at her and she realized that she wasn’t at all comfortable with being threatened with weapons by someone completely immune to necromancy. A panic-fueled blind swing of her hammer accompanied by a frightened yelp was the best she could do at the time and it ended with the weapon slipping from her hands. On its path towards a wall, the hammer took out the head of the simulacrum behind the one attacking Anastacia, immediately causing it to go limp and deactivate. The hammer itself bounced off to the side, a few meters away from its owner.
Inspired by the ‘success’ after opening her eyes, Anastacia rolled over to her weapon and then once more to get some distance to her opponent. She then flung the hammer at the simulacra, and discovered that she may have had a gift for using war hammers incorrectly, as it slammed directly into the simulacrum’s chest and crushed the stone plate there as if it had been made of glass.
“I… guess that works?” Anastacia shrugged and retrieved her weapon, just in time for the remaining simulacra chasing her to find their way out of the house. Taking that as her cue to leave, she ran off down the street.
By the time she came to the next intersection, she had gained a fair bit of distance, and could feasibly lose the group behind her if the next street had even a half-decent hiding place. Thinking that even a barrel with a lid would do, she turned the corner and saw quite possibly one of the worst things possible, a horde of maybe a hundred or more simulacra only ten meters away from her. Before she had the time to regret everything, the door of the shop next to her opened quietly and Leggy hastily dragged the necromancer inside.
Gesturing for her to be quiet, the venator quickly led Anastacia through the unlit store with covered up windows all the way up to the second floor, and from there, through a small hatch in the ceiling, the attic. First helping Anastacia up and then climbing in herself, Leggy closed the hatch and pressed her finger on the necromancer’s lips. Only couple of second later, someone else entered the shop. The sound of the weighty stone feet and the floorboards creaking under them was audible all the way from the first floor, obviously caused by a few of the simulacra that had either noticed the door close or heard something and decided to investigate. They paced around the first floor for a while, eventually finding their way upstairs and passing right under where Anastacia and Leggy were hiding. For a couple of minutes, at least five simulacra rummaged the rooms of the building, by the sounds of it tossing over anything large enough to hide a person, but eventually deciding that their search was for naught and they returned to the group swarming the road.
Anastacia sighed in relief and fell on her back on the dusty floor. She had subconsciously held her breath for almost the entire time and had actually gotten a bit dizzy from it. “That was way too close…“ She said and took a look at the attic.
On the wall that faced the road outside, there was a small window that worked as the only source of light in the room, aside from Leggy’s glowing eyes that is. Guessing by the broken latch on it, the necromancer figured that it was both openable and the route her friend had originally taken to get into the attic. The ceiling in the middle of the room was barely high enough for the simulacrum to stand up straight, and only got lower towards the sides thanks to the slope of the roof itself. Whoever had built the town must have decided that the attic wasn’t important part of copying an actual one and had left it mostly unfurnished, only placing a couple of crates and a large cloth in one corner. Next to them were four crossbows and quivers full of bolts, a mere sight of which made the necromancer’s skin crawl.
Noticing that Anastacia had spotted her collection that proved she had done her part of the plan expertly, Leggy appeared extremely proud and was clearly looking for praise, but the haunted look on Anastacia’s face burst her bubble fairly quickly. Dejected, Leggy sat down into a corner and stared at the floor with a look that somehow radiated sadness.
“Please don’t be like that! I’m very proud of you, and you did a very good job.” The necromancer pleaded with a weak, faked smile on her face. As much as she wanted to make the simulacrum feel better, she was having a very difficult time being so close to the crossbows. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the one pointed at her on the stairs of the temple in Crescent.
Now equally distressed as her friend, she dragged herself to the window and carefully peeked out. “Oh shit…” Was all she could whisper under her breath after seeing the streets below be completely filled with hundreds of simulacra. While they were no longer pinned down by the marksmen, it was difficult to say whether their semi-successful plan had improved their situation in the end.
Anastacia weighed the flask of water hanging from her belt and took a swig. They had enough water for a while, but they had no idea how long it would take for King and Emilia to find them.
“Looks like we’re going to be stuck here until the swarm down there moves on or the others find us… So we’ve got nothing but time in our hands right now, maybe we should finally get you cleaned – as a reward for taking out the marksmen.” She suggested, though perhaps more as a reward for herself or as an attempt to get her mind off the crossbows.