Darian squatted by the stream, Gorm and Gustan beside him, Harper standing some distance back. Fria and Zan were somewhere up ahead, the pair splitting off to do some scouting. The sky had started to darken as they entered the swamp, and they stood half shrouded in unnatural darkness. They decided to let Fria scout ahead when they discovered an ancient road, one that Darian had missed on his first trip to the swamp.

If he was being honest, he didn’t like being back here. The swamp was the first place he nearly died, and thinking of the buzzing blood bugs made his skin crawl. He reached out with his mind, his thoughts coalescing with the crows he had stationed in the trees above. Using [Dominate Animal] he’d managed to snag seven of them on their way into the swamp. Now they stood in the branches above as sentries, told to caw if they saw the undead or anyone besides Darian’s party.

“A rather unusual ability,” Harper said, looking to the sky, one of Darian’s birds circling overhead. “Where did you learn it?”

Darian just nodded in response. Much to his dismay, a full day of resting had seen the woman recharged. She battered Darian with question after question, a relentless tide of inquires about his body and where he came from. He’d managed to fight her off so far, but the constant torrent was testing his patience.

“Leave him be,” Gorm said, his axe resting by his side.

“Just trying to pass the time,” Harper replied. “But you’ve rather taken a liking to this one, eh Gorm? Found yourself a kindred spirit, perhaps?”

“It is a rather unique ability,” Gustan said, stuffing some strange plant into his satchel. “I’ve heard of deep forest druids who can control animals, but you don’t strike me as the type.”

“Just something I was born with,” Darian said, a bit of nagging worry in his gut. Fria should have been back by now.

He’d told her his birds could do some scouting for them, but she was right when she said a pair of human eyes would be better. Still, if she’s not back soon, I’ll have some of the birds go looking for her.

“Born with it?” Harper said. “Do all of your people have such an ability?”

Darian did his best to ignore her, but the elf was the queen of asking annoying questions.

“Or is it a unique skill? I must confess that is one area other races excel where my kind do not.”

“Alright Harper, leave it alone.” It was Gustan who spoke up this time. “I know you ask questions when you’re nervous, but this isn’t the time.”

She almost looked offended. “An inquiring mind is what sets a member of The Society apart from the common rabble. I figured you, of all people, would understand that.”

Gustan looked ready to argue, but then Darian picked up the sound of someone approaching.

“Someone’s coming,” he said.

When none of his dominated birds cawed, he relaxed. “It’s Fria.”

She slid down the hill. “I found a camp,” she said, nodding over her shoulder. “Looks like it belongs to the Lich cult.” She tapped her thumb on her chest. “They’re all wearing the symbol Gustan told me about.”

“A skeleton’s hand on the chest piece?” Gustan asked to be sure.

“Exactly as you described it. They’re building a little outpost or something in some ruins. Looks like it could have once been a town. The road through the swamp goes right through it.”

“How many?” Gorm asked, rising to his feet and throwing his axe over his shoulder.

“I counted at least fifteen, but more could be inside some of the tents or buildings.”

“Too many to take in a straight fight,” Gustan added. “Could we go around?”

“We could, but with how much darker everything in that direction gets, I figure the Nether Gate must be close to them.”

“So if we don’t take them out, they could end up hitting us in the back?” Darian asked, his stomach making a light grumble at the thought of more human blood.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“It’s likely.” Fria leaned against a nearby tree. “But the area around the ruins is nothing but bogs, with no clear way to sneak up on them.”

“Meaning the best way would be to take the road,” Darian said.

“Did they have any undead guards?” Gustan asked.

“None that I could see.”

“Could mean they don’t have a necromancer with them,” Gorm added.

“It’s the Lich Cult,” Harper said, approaching the group. “They will be led by a necromancer and a fairly powerful one, if I had to guess.”

“So what’s the plan?” Grom shifted, his body growing tense

“We could try to pick some off from stealth,” Darian suggested. “Fria and I should be able to take down a few without alerting the rest.”

“Normally I’d agree, but something’s got the camp riled up. They have guards watching all around.” Fria shrugged. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I can handle the guards on one side,” Harper said, her usually clipped speech flat and serious. “That will give us a point of entry. From there, Darian and Gorm can rush in and cause havoc. While they’re distracted, Fria and I can isolate and remove any high value targets. Zan can run interference for us while Gustan hangs back and offers support.”

“How will you be able to get in?” Darian asked.

“Darling,” she replied, the air around her shimmering and shifting. “There are only a handful of places in the world I can’t sneak into. This camp will not be one of them.”

“She’s right,” Gorm agreed. “But are you sure you can handle them? Your hand still isn’t healed.”

“One will have to do.” Harper straightened her back and looked each member of the party in the eyes, one by one. “Does the plan sound sufficient?”

Darian thought about it for a moment. “I can also use my birds as a distraction.”

“They had a few horses near the back,” Harper added. “If you could control them, they could cause some extra chaos.”

“I like where this is going.” Gorm smiled, his tusks digging into his cheeks.

“Most had swords, but there were a few armed with crossbows. I figure a crow or two pecking at their eyes should throw off their aim.”

“A grand idea,” Harper said.

Darian gripped the handle of Sparkblade tighter, thankful Fria had picked it up for him at the fort.

“I guess let’s be on with it,” Gustan said, a nervous twitch in his voice.

Gorm clapped him on the shoulder, nearly sending the alchemist to the ground. “Ease up Gustan. It’s only going to be a little murder and mayhem.”

***

Darian crouched behind the tree, the ruins looming ahead. The loose stone road that cut through the swamp did indeed go right through the cultist's camp. A few half tumbled stone buildings were all that remained of whatever once stood here, but the cultists had been busy building their own fortifications.

But why are they out here? Darian watched as one guard approached another, the men laughing as they separated. Hearing it tugged at Darian’s heart, but he knew what he had to do. And I will control my thirst. He looked at Gorm, the big man a dark splotch against the tree beside him.

“Fria mentioned you might go a little crazy when the blood starts flowing,” Gorm whispered.

“Not if I can help it.” Darian shifted, the air thick with tension.

“It’s not the same, but I know a thing or two about what it’s like to have a side of yourself that’s hard to control. But there comes a time when it's okay to let it out.” He nudged his head toward the camp. “So don’t be afraid to go a little crazy.”

“I guess we’ll see what happens.” Darian reached out to his birds, the crows now surrounding the camp.

He could just barely make out the stables at the far end of the encampment. Once they infiltrated it, he’d send the horses on a rampage. Even if they didn’t kill anyone, he figured it had to at least draw some attention off them.

Then, as Darian watched the perimeter, one of the guards vanished, his torch snuffed out.

“Chief is on the move,” Gorm lowered, a smile spreading across his face.

Darian recalled how Harper had slipped away without a word. He didn’t even notice she’d gone. And she still doesn’t have a weapon. But then another man along the perimeter vanished, his torch going with him. Doesn’t seem to be causing her trouble.

Then Gorm nudged him on the arm. It was time.

The pair lowered into a crouching sprint, the loose stone of the road tapping under their boots. They arrived at the easternmost wall quickly, voices from the camp drifting on the wind. Darian crept along the wall and peered around the corner, finding three men huddled a few paces away, their hands stretched toward a small fire. With his sword clenched in his hand, Darian readied himself for what he had to do.

But before he could round the corner, voices called out from the edge of camp. Then men emerged from their tents, all eyes on the other end of the encampment.

“Don’t know what’s going on,” Gorm said. “But our job’s the same.”

Darian nodded, then burst from the shadows, his sword finding the first man’s throat before he had time to scream.