From the inky depths came the bone golem. It erupted from the ground, its body a massive hunk of thick bone and claws. It stood nearly double Darian’s height, its bulk blotting out the stars. And from its blocky skull blazed eyes filled with green fire. Looking upon it filled Darian with a strange dread, but then he noticed the dark aura around the monster. Some kind of fear inducing passive? But even if the beast didn’t have such a skill, the sheer size and power it radiated would be enough to give him pause.
The first dwarves to emerge from the tunnel were greeted by a wall of undead. Darian’s triumph [Summoner’s Gift] and his divine skill [Blood Lord] boosted his undead summons, meaning even the low-level creatures could still put up a fight. And while they clogged up around the entrance, Darian used [Arcane blade] to add his skill [Life Drain] to his sword.
Several of the dwarves had glowing runes embedded in their pauldrons or on their shields. These sent shadows to flicker across the ground, and Darian used them to activate [Biting Swarm]. As his oily creations tore into the gathering of Warriors, Darian created mist from their blood, obscuring their vision as the undead closed in.
Alistair stumbled forward and collapsed, landing face first on the ground. But before he did, Darian overheard the necromancer utter a single command to his hulking creation.
“Attack.”
The bone golem lurched forward with surprising speed, trampling Darian’s summons as it marched into melee. The first dwarf to face it was nearly torn in half as the golem’s claws raked across his stomach. Another managed to crack the monster on the leg with a mace, but the beast lifted its leg and stomped, turning the dwarf into red paste.
Darian rounded the bone golem and his remaining undead, his sword biting into a distracted dwarf’s throat. As he died, Darian could feel the man’s lifeforce drain through his sword and into Darian’s body, healing his wounds. He activated the same set of skills again as he hacked into a dwarf’s exposed arm, severing it at the elbow.
The dwarves retreated into the tunnel, several of their corpses already strewn across the tunnel entrance. But the bone golem did not relent for even a moment. Its massive claws swung back and forth, severing limbs and rending armor. Darian had never witnessed such brute strength, and something about it set a fire to his heart.
He roared forward, his blade coming down from overhead to smash into a shield. The man who held it stumbled back, and Darian pushed, the dwarf pitching into the dirt. A slash across the throat finished him, and Darian used his blood to send daggers into the leg of another target. The man grunted in pain, his fellow warriors continuing their retreat. He raised his oval shield, but a swift kick to the knee jolted him, and Darian was able to find an opening for his blade.
The dwarf fell to his knees amidst a river of blood, his shoulder split open. Darian gripped him and hauled him up, then his fangs tore into his neck. As he drained him, the bone golem pressed past, the dwarves now completely pushed back into the tunnel.
Satisfied, Darian tossed the drained corpse to the ground and wiped the blood from his chin. He turned to find Krast on his knees beside one of the bodies, feasting. But Darian could not blame him for losing control, not this time. There was more blood and gore upon the ground than Darian had ever witnessed, and his body begged him to lose control and drink until he couldn’t stomach another drop. But the sound of boots upon the ground drew his attention away. Another group of dwarves were close, a second splinter sent off from their main caravan at the fort.
He marched over the bodies, his boots sinking into the blood-soaked soil. And over the lake of blood before him he saw the first dwarf burst from the tree line, his face a twisted mask of rage.
His body invigorated by his crimson thirst, Darian charged forward. But before he could reach his next meal, a pointed root exploded from the dirt and impaled the dwarf.
Then the green mist, which had been slowly dissipating since its arrival, thickened. The air hummed with magic, and flowers sprang up across the clearing, filling the forest with the scent of summer. The trees, which were dead only moments prior, burst to life, their bark melting away the snow and their branches rustling with lush leaves.
The impaled dwarf coughed, then the root ripped free of his body. He fell to both knees, his fellow warriors appearing behind him. But they didn’t get far before a horde of gremlins materialized from the mist, their hungry maws directed at the dwarves’ soft flesh.
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“She is here,” Tellal whispered from behind Darian. “The Deeproot.”
The fey woman appeared from the haze, her body wreathed in leaves that formed the vague shape of a dress. Her face was tan, her hair a braid of dark, twisting roots. She glanced at Darian with eyes of the darkest black, and he felt as if something ancient and unownable had just taken his measure.
“Depart,” she commanded the dwarves, her voice flowing like a spring breeze. “Or you will nourish my children.”
Several of them heeded her warning, but just as many stayed, their weapons tearing apart wave after wave of gremlins.
“So be it.” The fey woman raised both her arms, and the forest came to life.
The trees sprung up from the ground, parting in the middle to reveal gaping mouths. They bit down, tearing bodies in half. Then the flowers elongated, thorns bursting from them to needle the horrified warriors. Those who still didn’t flee were assailed by stabbing roots, their scream cut off as the jaws of gremlins found their throats.
In less than a minute, the entire group of dwarves was dead.
“Who are you?” Darian asked.
The fey woman walked past him to observe the bone golem. The monster was tearing at the tunnel, desperately trying to fit inside.
“I must block this,” the woman whispered. “Dispel your creature. It is no longer needed.”
Darian was about to explain it wasn’t his when he realized she was talking to Alistair.
The necromancer sat up, his body almost too weak to move. “Fine.”
In a flash of grey fog, the bone golem disappeared. Then roots weaved out from the ground, blocking off the tunnel.
“They will get through eventually, and yet more are coming from the fort.” The woman looked into Darian’s eyes. “And I must ensure your safety.”
“My safety?” Darian backed away to Jorg and Isaac. Krast had recovered his senses and was standing nearby, his knife out.
“Yes.” Tellal and Lallet fluttered down to join the fey woman. As they did so, she reached out, the air parting as an oily black shadow appeared. From within it, she pulled out a small blue sphere. It pulsed with power, but a long crack along its side dimmed the brilliant azure light.
“What is that?” Darian felt a haunting sense of familiarity toward the object, like he’d seen it somewhere before.
“A Conduit,” the woman responded. “An artifact that can be used to summon your kind to this plane of existence. This one is damaged, but…” she held it up and toward Darian, the light within the object growing brighter the closer it became. “It can sense Aspirants and Gods alike.”
Darian glanced at his allies. “What do you want with me?”
“To help you,” she flatly replied. “But to do that, I must take you to the sanctuary. Come.” She strode past him, the fairy sisters close behind her.
“Never trust the fey,” Alistair whispered.
She stopped. “I am different among my kind. I will not trick you or do anything to bring you misfortune. Please trust that if I wished to harm you, I would have done so already.”
Darian looked at the torn apart dwarves. Fair point. “But what about my injured friends? I will not leave them here.”
Just as he finished speaking, the roots pulled away from Jorg and Isaac. Then two creatures stepped out from the forest. They were large but in the shapes of men, with long arms that ended in what looked like giant thorns.
“My treekin will carry them.”
Darian moved to block the two creatures. “I need more information if I’m going to trust you.”
The fey nodded. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to fully gain your trust. But I did help you with the previous battle. And besides,” she gestured at Jorg. “Your large friend has a crossbow bolt still inside him, and we must remove it. But it is too close to his heart. My father can heal him without danger, but only if you come to the sanctuary with me.”
“I think we have to do what she says,” Krast said. “Or else Jorg might not make it.”
Darian looked down at the paladin. Despite the healing the fairy had provided, he didn’t look any better.
“Fine,” Darian relented. “But if you try and hurt them or me, I won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.”
The fey smiled. “As expected. But what of this one?”
Alistair perked up. “Me?” His head snapped toward Darian. “You can’t leave me like this. We had a deal.”
Darian groaned, but the necromancer was right. “He can come with us, but he’s not one of my friends. If he proves too troublesome, feel free to handle him as you see fit.”
“I will have a third treekin carry him, then. Now,” She nodded at the fairy sisters, and they took to the skies. “We must be off. The God of Seasons does not like to be kept waiting.”