Thana Mourningjay

Oddly enough, the priestess spoke the truth. I didn't want to believe it, but as the riot we'd been part of broke and just ran it became very clear that this was no trap of theirs, they didn't use undead. There was a wave coming down the hall, rushing forward as it saw people, and tried to end them. I assumed our forces had stood against it, at least for a time, but it didn't matter, they fell.

I gave my last two skeletons the command to go fight zombies and turned from the hall. There was nothing more I could do out there, at least without going out myself. It was sad that Mr. Bones/Perry wouldn't get a proper funeral, but at least he'd no longer be undead.

“We need an exit,” I said to Milo, truly worried.

“The back stairs should run through... right over here,” he said with the calmness of one who'd seen war, pointing at a curved secion of wall.

“It's sealed, what are you going to do, break down the wall!?” the head of the healers replied, panicking.

“I'll need a couple men and the biggest piece of wood we've got,” was his answer, given with grim determination. “Thana, can you do anything about them?”

“What!? No, not if I had a week could I stop that many, not to mention whatever is making them.”

“I knew you lot were using the undead, but this is insane,” one of the men bringing the improvised battering ram into place said.

“Not us,” both Milo and I chorused.

“Opcan can make some, and I can control a few, but nothing like this!” I explained, “There are dozens out there, at least!”

I joined in the attempt at removing the wall, hoping to speed the process just a bit.

The improvised battering ram started to break down pretty quickly, but there was little we could do about that except replace it. Everyone not backing up the spearmen or unable to move grabbed up similar implements and were all trying to find a weak spot, including the priestess.

It took over a minute, but after much bashing a stone finally fell out, the mortar failing under our continued assault. In the stairwell we could hear people running down, some screaming, but it availed us nothing, none would talk and we didn't have time. I only thanked my luck that the men who'd bricked up the stairwell had done a poor job of it, or we'd have probably failed.

After one block fell though, another joined it, then another, and another, each missing stone weakening the structure more, until there was a hole a couple of feet across there. It was barely big enough for us to fit into if we squeezed, which would soon be a neccessity.

The first line at the hall had failed, and the spears were reforming at the door itself.

“They keep coming!” one of the men yelled, terrified.

The stampede down had stopped, and as the smallest person here I quickly pushed my way into the stairwell. It was dimly lit, and very empty, though there were sounds from both up and down.

“Safe!” I yelled back through it.

Milo and the priestess soon joined me, along with some of the other healers. One by one the injured were being passed forward, helped out. A few of those who could walk were helping them down, down and away from the fighting.

It went quick, but not quick enough. The second line of defense fell, and the spears retreated again, forming a clump around the little opening that would be their only chance at escape. The undead filled the room quickly, pushing in and grabbing up those they could reach, tearing at them until they moved no more before turning to the still concious men and charging.

A soldier lost his nerve and turned, trying to dive through the bashed out section of wall, and that was it. The opening in their line let it come quicker than it might have, but there was always only one conclusion, the zombies pushed forwards, grabbing and tearing. The man who had tried to abandon his post blocked our sight for but a moment.

“Please, please, no!” He screamed as a cold hand pulled him back into the hospital. Behind him I could see something oozeing into the infirmary, sucking in the fallen and spitting out dripping undead.

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“We need to go!” I yelled to Milo and the priestess, the only two who'd stayed to this point.

“No arguments,” the man said as we all turned and started our descent.

As we did I saw a zombie trying to crawl through the open hole and spoke. “Stay where you are.” The undead stopped and looked at me. “Temporary plug,” I explained when my newest companion did too.

We helped the injured as we could, speeding along the group. As we did the sounds of battle from above got closer and closer. Finally we saw them, a ragged group of guards trying to hold back the wave, a fighting retreat down the stiarwell that wasn't going well for them.

The priestess turned in their direction, we were close, so close to escape. “Be cleansed,” she said, and several seemed to collapse into piles of viscera and dust.

“Abliged ma'am,” one of the soldiers said as he finally had a moment to breathe.

As Milo and I kept carrying an injured man I heard her repeat herself several more times. Each she tried to use to stem the flow, a flow of death that had no desire to stop.

“I'm out,” she declared as she returned to join us, terror in her eyes as she tried to help with our burden.

Milo began to turn, looking back towards the fighting men.

Milo Greyson

“Milo, no, please don't, you'll die,” Thana said before I could act, pulling me with her as much as she could.

“I can't leave them,” I said, we were less than two floors away, she could still make it.

“Please, I don't have anyone else, please, don't,” she begged, and I could see the pain in her eyes. “Don't leave me alone.”

I faltered, and in that second a zombie grabbed a guard.

“Turn on your fellows!” she commanded, and the undead released him, instead grabbing another zombie. “You idiots, run!”

Enough of the undead were either now fighting those trying to descend or stunned and kneeling that they did just that. They took our burden and we all ran.

Soon enough the dead had passed, or killed all those she'd managed to stop and she had to repeat herself. After one more repeat performance she gasped. “I'm out too. Only one thing left. Whatever you do, don't attack anything, anything you hear me! And don't let them touch you.”

Thana rattled off a series of arcane words, one hand working into symbols, and she touched two guards and the injured man. Then repeated the process, sweat dripping from her brow as her hand passed over her own body, the priestess, and myself.

Finally, finally we made it to the atrium, and it was in shambles. Everyone was trying to get out, except a unit of paladins who were bogged down trying to keep them from opening the doors. They didn't understand the danger, and the terrified mob didn't care to explain, instead pouring over them like a tide, dying in droves, and ripping the bar from the door.

Opcan and his brute were engaged with Warden Lightstone, and appeared to be losing badly until someone else plowed into the fight. The sorcerer, not one to miss a chance, cast, and those two winked out from sight. He began looking around, eyes settling upon me, no, the girl behind me, and charged with a furious glare in his eyes.

Warden Lightstone

“Stop, wait!” Our head healer Linea said as she tried to interpose herself, having no time I pushed her from my way, angling to get the girl and her turncoat ally. “She helped us save the injured, stop!” the priestess roared.

At the same time the necromancer also screamed. “DONOTATTACKHIM!!!” as fast as she could, stopping the traitor's hand from even drawing his sword even as I unleashed a flurry of blows upon him, drawing crimson blood.

Odd, very odd, some kind of trick perhaps? I danced back several paces, eyes scanning for some issue.

“She helped us, they deserve mercy!” the priestess continued.

“The law is clear,” I declared. “There will be no further mercy.”

“But!”

“Tend the wounded, for if you get in my way again you shall share their fate.” I could brook no disagreement here, not with so many already escaping, already prying the doors open, this one had to die.

“Go,” the little monster told her. “Go.”

“I'm sorry,” Linea said, before turning to run herself.

“You sure I can't fight him kid? He looks pretty tired already,” the warrior wheezed, and he wasn't totally wrong.

“Don't attack, not even once,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes. “Surrendering now? Very well, lay down your arms and I shall grant you a quick death.”

Thana Mourningjay

“Fuck you asshole,” I told the man.

“You still think you have a chance? Your friend will die, and you will die, that will be the end of it. You cannot defeat me,” he said, moving back into a fighting stance.

“I've already defeated you,” I retorted.

“By refusing to fight?” he laughed.

“By refusing to break the spell shielding us from the eyes of the undead,”

He looked briefly confused, until the first zombie rushed him, wrapping itself around his torso and knocking him from his feet, others joined it immediately.

“BEGONE!” he roared as they piled on, and many of them did just that, evaporating into pieces.

They were replaced almost instantly, the dead had arrived from the back stairwell. Judgement was coming for those who'd tried to serve it out, and it groaned and rotted. The warden roared more, destroying more of the dead, but it was too late, they were already piling in. On the far side of the room the defenders against those descending from the main prison area were also falling, the horde pulsing over them like a wave.

“I warned you you would reap what you'd sown!” I yelled at the man as he struggled, being buried under the mass of moving corpses. “So reap Lightstone, reap!” It was rather cathartic. I did at least resist the urge to laugh manically as his screams started to gurgle.

“Thana, door!” a hand on my arm pulled, and I turned, seeing our exit clear.

“Right!” I said, cheering as we ran.

My excitement was soon dampened as we left the building. The courtyard was in chaos, most were fleeing, a few of the archers were shooting at either the running people or outside. The wall was crumbling in places, nearly gone in others.

The undead were hot on our heels, searching for more life to consume. They poured out of the tower, how many were there? Too many, it looked like a massive portion of the prisoners, even those who'd joined the defense, were now part of the horde, and there'd been thousands of prisoners.

We began to crest a small hill of rubble, and it was clear all was not well. The Corian army wasn't shoulder to shoulder, but rather behind mounds and pallisades, dug in for the short siege of this place. We could run at them, but in a moment of inspiration I pulled Milo to the side, curling us up out of the way by an overhanging bit of masonry.

The Corian soldiers looked confused, very confused, until they saw the first zombie. The monsters poured out and into the men who were almost certainly partially to blame for them.

It began to rain as we left our hiding spot, and for the first time in years I felt it against my face, just a few taps, here and there. The soldiers were quite throughly busy, and the dead unaware of us. So we ran, ran through the small gaps in the warring factions, ran for the city where we might find shelter, ran for freedom.

We ran, and we ran, and we ran, probably ten minutes through side streets and back alleys. Milo pulled me along, seeming to know the way. I loved it, the feeling of the breeze, the unfiltered gray light coming down from above, with no roof in the way, even as the rain gained in strength. For the first time in years I was outside, outside, and I was so happy.

Milo was hurt, even if he could still run he would soon need tending to. It didn't look fatal, but he still brought us to a stop in a small vacant lot. While he caught his breath under an overhang I walked out into the overgrown weeds, looking straight up. I let the drops of water from the sky flow down my face, and soon they were joined, melding with tears of joy.

“How you doing kid?” My friend asked.

“Free,”