Phelain Starr

  The glowering cloud of red hate and bones stared down at the arisen warrior’s party. They charged forward without hesitation at the order of the Sixty’s leader. Phelain was filled with pride at the sight. Despite their personal experience with a Dead Thing, his party sallied forth. The reasons were many, none of them lessened the warmth he felt at seeing them confront an embodiment of their fear. For the sake of revenge or any other selfish reason, nothing could lessen this moment for him. He simply took joy from their collective action.

  Hector and he took their place at the front, moving in tandem. Shields glittering with prepared Mana. He expected that the two of them would be playing defense. Blocking to hold the angry specter while the acolytes brought on the pain. Allen and Analia glowed with Mana on the cusp of spell casting. A warm light passed through them. It left the party feeling stronger as well as an edge of bloodlust as Kai cast Surge Of The Hunt. Vivian held back, her enraged eyes narrowed to catch the moment someone was hurt. A swarm of arrows from Analia kept the Ratsin distracted as they closed in.

  The Dead Thing swiped at the arrows, shattering a few, but most dipped out of the way. Several scoured deep grooves into the bones. The damage was light, but it was only the opener. As the silent archer began to charge a shot, Hector and Phelain arrived. Neck bones popped audibly as the Ratsin’s head snapped towards them. Weightlessly, it spun in the air to bring all four yellow clawed limbs down on the frontliners. Shield barriers sprung into bright life to take the blow. Sharp grunts escaped the two at the effort. Red scars stained the clear Mana of their projections.

  When the next attack from the Ratsin came, the two shields-wielders sidestepped. Red imbued foreclaws slammed the ground in between, dust exploded outwards as the stone cracked. Before it could recover, Analia blasted the beast with an outstretched hand.

  A stream of darkness struck it and ran thickly over the bones until it was covered completely. The Dead Thing struggled blindly trying to remove the substance. Its talons going to town, but despite cutting smoothly through there was no effect. Appearing to have no different effect than running your fingers through the water. The shadow acolyte’s fist clenched close and the Ratsin hissed almost a howl. Under her hood, she smiled at the sight.

  Gray light lined the darkness as the beast thrashed wildly as a static sound rose louder. It began to rise up into the air, swirling in on itself. The tendrils of the red aura condensed close until the Dead Thing became a red star with a black core. Analia’s Mana began to dissolve under the influence of the concentrated hate. When it dropped down to the ground the Ratsin was free of the darkness, but looked much more brittle. The bones had become chalky and looked ready to crumble.

  The Ratsin hissed horribly at all of them. A sense of caution entered the Dead Thing’s movements as it approached again. Its jaw worked the air and the claws tumbled in anticipation. Phelain with Hector close at hand shifted towards the beast. Tapping their shields with their blades. The sword beat seemed to hold attention as the monster shifted attention back and forth between the beat. An irritated hiss at the repetition.

  The pounce came suddenly when Phelain was about to play the beat. Murderous claws rushed towards the arisen warrior’s face. His shield blazed into a forcefield, but the Ratsin was suddenly gone off the ground. The fleshless beast shot through the air and landed behind Hector. It was a moment of horror. He was too far to make it and his partner was stuck trying to pull out of the strike intended to punish the pounce. Hate imbued talons sunk into Hector’s side. The armor offered little resistance.

  Phelain leaped between them with a pained roar, sword burning white. The Dead Thing allowed itself to be pushed away. Blood gushed out as the claw was pulled from Hector. Paling at the sight, the arisen warrior charged it again in a reckless haze. A hateful swiped ripped across the face and down the chest. He flinched with a cry of pain and the Ratsin hovered over. It was preparing to bite down on his shoulder when Analia fired. Her charged shot slammed into the head of the monster and tossed the whole thing away from the party. The beast landed in a clatter on the ground as a pile of bones. An impact crater was visible on the side of the skull.

  The Dead Thing began to pull itself together quickly. Bones lifting and darting into place. An orange-red circle drew itself around the Ratsin. For a moment, they all could see the stone underneath melt before a pillar of fire burst into life around it. The bones began to blacken and the monster tried to escape, but Allen roared out his spell Strike Of The Flame Lance to pin it back in. The lance of molted flame came at an angle to both push the beast back in and hold it at the very center.

  Vivian moved forward to Hector’s side while Kai directed Phelain over to them both. Their angry healer glared at both wounds. The wrathful flames of the Dead Thing were polluting the wounds. Ethereal red blaze unbothered by blood flow. The arisen warrior grimaced, knowing they had caused problems last time. Quite a few deaths had been caused by that hateful aura keeping healing from having an effect.

  Under her breath, the angry healer said, “Not this time. No, No, not this time!”

  “Banish The Filth,

  Save This Victim,

  Make Them Clean,

  Purify Body!”

  Pure white light coated Vivian’s hands and she directed the spell first at Hector then Phelain. The arisen warrior found his breathing quickly became easier as the deep burning in his wounds faded away. More important to him was that Hector’s bleeding slowed. Quickly the angry healer followed up with Healer’s Touch. Phelain was ready to go, but Hector was still too pale. Kai helped him away while Vivian glared at the Dead Thing. The fire pillar was fading away.

  A thing of char pulled itself out of the fire pit. The tendrils of the red aura seemed muted and some of the bones crumbled away when the Ratsin rebuilt itself. The best the monster could do was place the damaged skull above a swirl of blackened bones. There were plenty of sharp edges left.

  Phelain was preparing to charge back in when Vivian roughly pushed him aside. His heart leaped to his throat when the arisen warrior’s armor almost tumbled him over with the weight. When he was balanced, there was just enough time to catch the angry healer marching forward raging out a new spell.

  “By My Rage,

  Inflict All Torment,

  Return This Pain,

  Healer’s Rebuke!”

  White light tinged with red surged from her and landed upon the Dead Thing like a hammer. The monster was bashed into the ground and most of the charred bones shattered. A scream warbled from the Ratsin’s half skull, the rest had crumbled away. Uncountable slivers of charred bone rose around in a flurry. Like an arrow, the monster shot forward at Vivian with the splinter points leading.

  A few steps behind, Phelain got his shield up in time to partially shield her. The bone shards cracked against his shield’s barrier. He looked over to assess his healer’s damage, but Kai had burst to her side in time to guard the other half. Some of the black splinters were lodged into his crossed arms. Little red flames burned where streaks of blood ran like water. Golden Mana lit up and shone brilliantly around Kai as he looked on unimpressed by the Dead Thing. He shook his arms and the shards fell out. The proud acolyte took a step forward, a spell rising from his lips.

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  “Smug Endurance,

  A Just Turnabout,

  Beautiful Riposte,

  Perfect Counter!”

  Kai swiped with the back of his hand in the air between him and the monster. It was a lazy effort, brimming bright and gold. The act traced a line of shimmering gold that seemed to create a hush over everyone watching. There was a bang like a backfire and the gold erupted towards the Dead Thing. A flood of sparks overwhelmed the floating skull and bones.

  When the light cleared away, there was just the skull left hovering over a pile of black powder. Even the wrathful aura was only an outline now. Phelain was reminded of those basic monsters in games that were just flaming skulls. He looked at the weakened horror and felt no pity. Instead, indignation swelled in his chest and anger ran along his veins. Something familiar woke up inside. The arisen warrior surveyed his wounded companions and turned back to the foul remnant. Fury boiled within him and became a righteous certainty such a thing did not deserve to exist. Shouldn’t be at all.

  White Mana surged around him and Phelain raised his sword to strike. It hissed at him, an echoey and distant sound. He scoffed before bashing it to the ground with the flat of his blade. The arisen warrior knew what flowed through his weapon would end it in a moment’s effort, but decided the diminished Dead Thing was unworthy. His foot came down hard on the skull. Grinding it into the ground where white and red energy flare against each other. He shifted before stomping down again. There was a crunch.

  Pulling his foot away revealed the crumbled remains of the undead Ratsin. Black crumbs over which tendrils of red slowly withered away. The arisen warrior watched every bit fade before relaxing. His sword still vibrated with the contained power of that conviction. A surge of energy readied for use. A long look at the battlefield before asking his party and himself, “Who needs help?”

Warner Papadopoulos

  Grinning, the brawler bull-rushed the Dead Thing. Wicked claws came for his flesh, but a dip here and then there got him inside the monster’s reach. He pulled embarrassment from the experience with the first one and burned the memory into his fists. Rippling orange flames surged at the investment. One, two swings that impacted with satisfying revelation. The Ratsin tumbled in midair from the blows and tried to chase after the big man as he moved past. Elena and Zachariah stepped in.

  The two giants attacked and forced the beast to let the brawler go. A spear thrust tangled purposely in the rib cage and was torn free. An ax blow that shattered off the snout of the skull gave Zachariah the time needed to extract his weapon. Elena nodded proudly at the damage done and added a shield bash for a job well done. The Dead Thing flopped away from the wallop. It hissed with a jagged crumble of a skull. That didn’t affect the echoey quality of the Dead Thing’s call.

  Warner spun on one foot to come around to face the Ratsin from the back. Orange Mana came to his call and began to grow further down his arms. He grinned, enjoying the battle. His desire for a fight powered his Form, Onslaught. As combat continued, the stronger the brawler would become. Scanning for the next few moves, he flipped through possible battleplans.

  The Dead Thing stood in the center of the three of them and paced like a cornered animal. This was the first part of several plans. Warner, Zachariah, and Elena would engage to surround the beast in a mirror to the strategy used earlier. The brawler was never one to be put off a good plan, even if a rival came up with it. He eyed Molly, but she was concentrating on what appeared to be purple strings in her hands. A quick thought that came easily to the conclusion that it was best to leave her to it. The big man trusted the cool-eyed woman to be doing something worthwhile.

  Everything was in place, he signaled Jorgenson to start the next part. The storm acolyte clapped and showed off a brash smile in acknowledgment. Warner was curious to see what she had up her sleeve to deal with a skeleton. He didn’t doubt her ability to tear flesh, but believed bone was harder to hurt. Maybe more so for the sort that walked without tissue.

  The Mana Jorgenson had been gathering in their wake shifted at the command of her raised arms. It swirled above hands that seemed to stretch as if to grip the sky.

  “From Storm’s Heart,

  I Summon Thy Force,

  Rain Down Brutally,

  Tempest’s Pummeling!”

  The green-gray Mana collapsed into a single small sphere. Electricity buzzed and arced. It shot forward towards the Dead Thing and multiplied on the fly. A swarm of golf ball-sized bullets of wind had manifested before the spell collided with the monsters. Bones shattered and chunks were scoured out. At every moment of contact, a wave of electricity buzzed through the Ratsin. It didn’t seem to bother the bones much, but the hateful red aura sputtered each time.

  As the beast reeled from the spell, all three warriors charged in for some dirty and easy damage. Warner leaped up and slammed both fists down. A shockwave of orange Mana scattered the leg bones while his physical blow snapped the pelvis. The ax-wielder opened her attack with a stomp to an outstretched hand. Finger bones crackled under Ekena’s boot as her ax fragmented half the ribs. The Dead Thing nipped, but her shield clanged it away. Zachariah didn’t get his chance, being just a little too slow. He was forced to back away under an assault worthy of any wounded animal.

  That’s when Molly stepped in. The cool-eyed woman's hands held out before her purple strings that hung from fingertips like a puppet master. She smirked cooly and jerked her hands back. The Dead Thing was suddenly flung away from the spear-wielder. The purple bindings on the bones swelled and wriggled like live veins. With every movement of her hands, the curse acolyte shifted the Ratsin about. In response, it began to gnaw and scratch at its own bones to remove the purple Mana.

  Smelling an opportunity, Warner was quick to move back in. The Ratsin whirled at him, but Molly diverted it smoothly out of position to allow the brawler an opening. His Form had begun to thicken over his feet, so he did a mix of punches and kicks to break any bones in reach as the big man did a pass. Zachariah followed right after, unwilling to miss out again. His spears twirled about to seek out the larger pieces. Bone shards flung at him were early blunted by careful placement of his shield.

  A rattling hiss exploded out of the Dead Thing and it collapsed to the ground. The skull and bones clattered to the ground before the red aura winked out. It went quiet for them as the sounds of battle continued all around them. Warner’s party watched the bone pile with open and obvious suspicion. Everyone began to pull Mana for an all assault when the red aura denoted back to unlife. It flared and burned with the glare. All of them cried out in surprise as they clenched their eyes closed. Then Elena began to scream in earnest.

  When Warner ventured to open his eyes in a panic, they stung and watered. Through the haze, he could see the Dead Thing had turned into a maelstrom of red hate and sharp bones. All with Elena at the heart of it. The ax-wielder was trying to protect herself as much as possible, but there was only so much coverage from her chosen weapon set. Bloody cuts began to add up quickly and she started to look woozy. Molly looked on the sight stunned as the purple strings fluttered freely as if having been cut.

  Zachariah stubbled blind towards his friend and Warner gritted his teeth as the brawler prepared to dive in the middle of it to somehow help. The storm acolyte saved them those stupid and desperate acts. Without a spell chat, she called a miniature tornado that turned opposite to the wrathful wraith. The manual casting provided a shield for Elena and then blew the Dead Thing away

  The ax-wielder dropped her knees and only kept themselves from being prone by bracing against ax and shield. Zachariah was at her side in a moment. They half-dragged Elena away from the battle site towards where the healer Conor waited. Warner was also relieved, but noted that the storm acolyte was likely out of the fight too. Jorgenson looked barely on her feet after the feat casting without a chant. His dear Molly, though, she looked ready to fight.

  Letting the others off by silent agreement, the curse acolyte and brawler strolled towards the coalescing Dead Thing. Purple Mana gathered like a haze around Molly’s hands and Warner was nicely covered by his Form up to the chin. His body was lithe and strong, ready for another charge. The cool-eyed woman cracked her neck before closing her eyes. When they reopened the dark purple haze was in her eyes. Shifting ghostly before them, the disembodied Ratsin stared them down.

  Like an orange blur, Warner charged forward into a great leap and put all the force of his momentum into a single punch. On impact, orange ignited and surged into the red aura. The two energies battled out as the brawler dipped to the side. Molly’s voice rose over the din.

  “I Am The Power,

  You Are An Affront,

  Scatter And Be Lost,

  Revoke Life!”

  Warner’s eyes bulged in surprise as the cool-eyed woman’s shadow darkened and thickened. It rose menacingly over the battlefield to take the form of a purplish shade. The humanoid construct flew at the monster beaming a malicious smile. Menacing hands reached out to touch the fleeing Dead Thing. All that effort was pointless as the Ratsin seemed unable to gain even a single step of distance. It just brought the beast closer until the shade embraced it.

  The spell and monster froze together. A grotesque statue with no pleasant interpretation. Two beats of the heart passed and then the shade bleed into the Dead Thing’s aura. The spell construct dissolved as the Ratsin just got darker until it was pitch black. Three heartbeats. A wind unfelt blew it away like dust.

  Turning to Molly, Warner yelled, “What the hell was that?”

  “That…” began the cooled-eyed woman with a shake of her head. “That! Was very exhausting.” She looked at the brawler as if to focus, before collapsing onto the ground. The brawler was beside her in two overextended leaping steps. He checked her pulse, a little erratic, but strong. A couple of escalating slaps were unable to wake her. Molly was out cold.

  “Fuck,” spat Warner.