The Mining Town of Meold at the Base of Mount Eskandar along the Great Ferrisian Mountain Divide

He dashed through the town ruins from a bygone era with hurried breath and a burning chest, clutching the strap of his pack over his shoulder. A scavenger clad in his leather armor and a hooded cloak ran through the alleys and made his way to the town square. Exiting the alley, he desperately looked to the rooftops and, beyond them, a dilapidated mansion in the distance, his desired destination. There was a crashing behind him. The scavenger gripped the hilt of his blade fixed to his hip, glancing behind him at the approaching horde, then back at the mansion. The mansion was on the other side of town. He needed to lose the horde before he arrived there, but how?

Several corpses were approaching, and he could hear their moaning beyond the alleyway behind him. It would not be long before the horde was upon him. He racked his brain. He needed to form a plan before he ran out of stamina. If it weren't for the trap at the entrance of the village attached to that damn bell... But no matter. This wasn't the first time being in a sticky situation in the Plagued Lands. He set out with haste and good timing as the horde of pursuing corpses flooded the alleyway behind him.

The scavenger hurried to the nearest two-story building, using a nearby crate to boost himself up to the second-story balcony. The scavenger turned back and directed his palm at the crate. A bright amethyst light from his palm emitted a wave of energy that propelled into the crate, shattering it to pieces.

"That should buy me a little time," he whispered to no one but himself. He glanced at the mansion in the distance and then at the horde below. He felt slightly at ease.

He wondered if the disgustingly monstrous beings below that reached and clawed for at him were the old village folk before the plague swept over the land two decades ago. Their bodies were now decayed walking corpses that reeked a foul stench that singed the scavenger's nostrils. Slivers of flesh flayed from their bodies, revealing the bones and tendons underneath. What terrified him the most were the eyes of each corpse as they burned like embers of a flame. It was the only quality of them that still appeared alive. Those harrowing eyes locked on to the scavenger; they gnashed and clawed at him from below, wailing, groaning, wanting to either consume or add him to their number.

A shiver ran up his spine. Though he has made many treks similar to his current mission, the idea of being caught by those things still frightens him. Many Druids and Voidlings alike have met their fate from the bite of the horde, whether by surprise or by overwhelming number.

He took a few steps back. He fell against the wooden balcony door and slowly slid to the floor. He had been running from the plague horde for roughly an hour with no chance to rest. The scavenger was sure he was safe and decided now was the best time to relax. The horde gathered in front of the building, wailing and howling as their number grew; he could hear them banging on the sides of the building.

He chuckled, "Stupid bastards." Luckily, once infected, the corpses lack the intelligence to open doors or climb high ledges or tall walls. He wasn't worried about them opening the door to the building. Those monsters would bust down the door before turning the handle. He had no way of knowing if the front door was still intact after all these years or, worse, it was ajar. It would still take them a few minutes to make their way up the stairs, assuming the inside was abandoned or barren. He decided it was worth looking inside the building to find out.

With a heaving pull, the man opened the jammed balcony door and was met by a musty-smelling room. Dust lingered in the air that illuminated in the beaming shade of the light, like rays of sunlight peeking through the gaps of trees on a foggy day. Inside the flat was a living area with a dirty red carpet, a couch, a couple of chairs, and a dining table in the corner. The table had been laid with plates and silverware that now collected dust. There was a door on the left and right wall, and before him was the kitchen that connected to the living area, with bar seating separating the spaces.

The scavenger ran his finger along the table, leaving a trail in the years of gathered dust. He rubbed the dust between his fingers. He imagined what meal was being prepared before the plague hit the town. The kitchen was in ruins. The roof had fallen in, revealing the sky above. The floor was rotting due to the exposure to the elements. And there were pots and pans strewn about the floor.

He went to return to the common area, and the floor creaked as he did. Then, suddenly, there was a howl from the room below that gave the scavenger goosebumps. Having paused a moment, listening intently, he sighed in relief and then whispered to himself-

"Probably not a good idea to go down there."

The scavenger carefully crept over to the couch and sat gently, leaning back into the deep cushions, sinking into them.

"Aah..." He groaned in relief, "That's nice." The scavenger had been traveling for just over two weeks before arriving in this town, so he was thrilled to rest his sore feet. The trip had gone smoothly until his arrival. The moment he stepped into town, he was ambushed by the local horde. Usually, the scavenger avoided enclosed areas in the Plagued Land, but he was prone to making the occasional exception, especially in a time of need.

Those who dared to venture into the Plagued Lands knew well the danger of encountering a corpse in tight spaces. While they can't perform a simple task like opening a door, they can still climb low-standing walls and linger in dark spaces to pounce upon their prey. Luckily, the balcony outside was too tall for the claws of the horde to grab ahold of. The scavenger wondered where the corpses lay in wait for him, a more animalistic nature of the corpses that has dumbfounded many who study them; to this day, no one can explain such phenomena.

For a while, the scavenger sat listening to the wails of the horde outside. He even occasionally heard the corpse downstairs bump into things and hiss. Even surrounded by horror, the man managed to find some comfort. It had been a long time since he had relaxed like he was. He was pleased that the decades had been kind to the seat, maintaining its quality while covered in dust. The scavenger chuckled. He imagined the seat remaining in excellent condition for one such as himself, a dear pleasure to behold.

But the scavenger knew he could not sit around all day, so he stretched out his arms and legs, letting out a relieving groan as he strained his muscles, his joints popping, before allowing his limbs to go limp. He wiped the creeping sleep from his eyes and stood up. He smiled to see that he had left an impression of his behind in the dust on the couch. He chuckled and wondered how much time needed to pass before his impression was dust-covered again. But alas, he pressed on as he did not have the time for such matters.

The scavenger returned to the kitchen and decided to leave through the roof. Upon stepping into the kitchen, he heard a few crackles, then a loud snap. His weightlessness surprised the scavenger as he fell through the floor and into the dark room below, landing with a hard thud and a puff of dust.

He coughed and waved away the cloud of dust. As the dust began to clear, he saw them. Two fiery eyes stared directly at him. His heart sank. The corpse gritted its teeth at the sight of him lustfully. The scavenger pulled himself together and jumped to his feet. The monster howled and lunged at him. He used an energy wave to knock the corpse back. The corpse wailed as it fell back but immediately started scrambling to lunge at the scavenger again. The scavenger directed both of his palms to the floor and used the force of two energy waves to propel his leap back up to the floor above and away from the monster. He was not ready to risk a fight with a corpse without knowing how many were in the home.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He quickly fled through the hole in the roof and used the energy waves to leap from building to building toward the abandoned mansion in the distance with immense speed. He looked back to see the corpses running after him, but he was moving so fast that the group trailed behind him.

The scavenger zipped about the rooftops until he knew the corpses were no longer pursuing him. He sat on the roof of a three-story building and bathed in the sun's light. The sun was high in the sky, providing warmth over the town as the creeping chill of autumn lingered in the air. He found himself quite uncomfortable sitting on the tiled roof. Already, he was longing to sit on that couch again.

The scavenger had come to the abandoned mining town of Meold at the base of Mount Eskandar. Mount Eskandar was one of the hundreds of mountains comprising the Great Divide, splitting the continent into two sections, West and East. Meold lay on the continent's Eastern side, and the mining town used to serve as a checkpoint before travelers braved the dangerous mountain pass.

The town's architecture had a rugged and worn appearance. Many buildings had been abandoned for years, with boarded-up windows and crumbling facades. The stone structures with wooden supports and crossbeams were weathered and splintered, with peeling paint and rotting from exposure and a lack of care. However, despite their deteriorating condition, the buildings still held a certain beauty, like a broken mirror reflecting history's past. The ornate carvings and stonework that had once adorned them were faded and worn, but they still spoke of a time when the town was prosperous and thriving.

The narrow, winding streets that wound through the city were lined with tall, sturdy buildings that had once been used for mining and other industries or homes. The overall effect was a rustic charm, a testament to the resilience of the people who had built and lived in the town for centuries despite the dangers surrounding them. No one dared enter the mountains without reason, not even during the Era of Peace before the plague swept the world. The mountains are home to many creatures and monsters alike. The monsters there are said to be more ferocious than those living in the hills and planes, like the arachnids, golems, orcs, and giants.

It is also said that a sect of the Talpidae clan lives in a series of tunnels and caverns that they carved within the mountains. Those mole people are typically unfriendly to humankind and pose a severe threat if anyone were to run into one of them. They are known for being ruthless killers if crossed. The claw-like fingers of the Talpidae are sharp enough to slice the finest blades and the mightiest gems in half. The scavenger wondered if they were still there in these mountain ranges. When the plague took over, the Talpidae and the other three Great Clans went into seclusion and haven't been seen since, slowly fading into legend.

There is a particular notion of venturing into the unknown regarding the mountains. Before the plague, adventurers and travelers avoided the mountain divide due to its many dangers. Luckily, there were other means of travel to cross the divide. Often, charters sailed along the continent's shoreline to reach either side. One could rent flying items to soar the skies above the mountains, like broomsticks, rugs, or even clothing, but now those items are few and far between. There were also those brave enough to offer coinage to the Talpidae to pay a toll to use their tunnels, but those who braved the attempt were often turned away, for the Talpidae had no need of such currency, or they did not return whatsoever.

The town was expanding in size before the plague changed or drove out its inhabitants. From the roof, the scavenger could see an old construction site on the southern end of town. He could see the site was constructing more homes for the townsfolk to continue expanding with white stone from the mines and similar orange clay roofing tiles used in the walled city. But now the inhabitants were either dead, one of the horde, or managed to escape before the town fully succumbed to the plague. What used to be a bustling mining town was now little more than a graveyard for the corpses that roam its streets.

The man tried to imagine life in the town of Meold but found it challenging. It had been nearly two decades since he was thrust into the apocalypse, so long that he had almost forgotten about his old life before the plague. These days, he lived two lives: one within the safety of the walls of Ferrisia and one out in the wilds of the plague lands.

Inside the walls, you were safe as long as you adhered to the rule of the Clergy. Outside the walls, you were free from governance but risked death at every turn. This was the world he knew. As a scavenger of the plagued lands, the man often made treks like his current one to retrieve artifacts for those who were too scared to venture out beyond the safety of the walls. A purpose of his own devices given freely to himself, all at the cost of another.

The scavenger's name was Aizen Krysler. Unlike his Druid counterparts, he is a Voidling. A human that lacks the aptitude to perform mystical-based feats. Instead, Aizen relies upon the power of aetherite gems to give him supernatural abilities. Beneath Aizen's hooded cloak was a set of leather armor bejeweled with several aetherite gems whose colors indicated the nature of their power. Around his neck is a necklace with an emerald jewel bezel. A Waalean steel blade was affixed to his hip. The blade's grip was delicately decorated with sigils of rigid Waalean runes and gold trimming. Embedded into the cross guard was a dazzling amber-colored jewel. This blade was Aizen's most prized possession, a relic of his former master.

Aizen lifted his arms and inspected the amethyst jewels attached to the underside of each bracer. The jewels brimmed with energy. Aizen could sense it. He had formed a connection with his amethyst stones, or force stones as they are commonly called. He could feel their energy surging beneath the surface, itching to be released. Aizen ran his finger over the amber jewel embezzled into the cross-guard of his sword. He could feel the hum of the fiery jewel, not as eager but just as keen.

Aizen possessed many aetherite gems. The emerald healing stone attached to his necklace helped heal his wounds and replenish his stamina. Two zircon gems on the backside of his hands affixed to his bracers granted him control over the earth. An opal stone that commands the wind dazzled in the light on his belt clip.

Aizen was quite proud of his collection. It took him many years of searching and exploring abandoned mines to find them; the only gem he was missing was a sapphire that commands water. Not many people could say they possessed as many as he. On his travels in the plagued lands, he often kept an eye for them. Aetherite gems of all types were once plentiful until they were heavily regulated long before the plague. They can still be found deep within the old-world mines or beneath the earth in certain climates and ecosystems. Unfortunately, with the lack of human influence in the world over the years, those areas have turned dangerous and are crawling with monsters and meandering corpses.

These powerful stones all possess the qualities of the elements in which the stone is located, leaving the potential of these stones to one's imagination and the perseverance to find them, if at all. Before the onset of the plague, however, many of the mines in Ferrisia were shut down, and only a few excavation sites were still active at the time of disaster. Mining activities before the plague strictly supplied aetherite gems for the Clergy or the elite to serve whatever purposes they deemed fit. Any stones known to exist in this dark age are now in the hands of the governing bodies or those with the funds to acquire them.

But now was not the time to hunt for such stones as much as Aizen wished to. He had a feeling Meold would be full of them had he the time to explore. Aizen had a mission to complete, and once more, his eyes landed on the mansion. Aizen took a deep breath and sighed,

"Time to get a move on."

He slowly stood up and stretched with a groan, extending his arms to the sky. He was ready. He walked to the roof's edge and peered down to find that he had lost the horde. He could see a corpse here and there, mindlessly stumbling about the streets and alleys.

"Probably best not to attract too much attention; the last thing I need is a horde invading the mansion. That would be a death wish." Aizen said to himself.

And a death wish it certainly would be. In close quarters, the bloodthirstiness of the horde can be overwhelming. Taking care of the corpses outdoors is easy with high-energy output attacks, but the following sounds often attract too much attention. However, using similar attacks in enclosed spaces puts the structure at risk of collapsing and possibly trapping the caster, making them easy prey for the corpses.

Aizen knew this well. He remembered facing a Druid in a small abandoned village northwest of the walled city of Meiarldorn called Irania on one of his first outings. The Druid's power exceeded Aizen's, but the Druid used a powerful spell that collapsed a house on top of him. Aizen remembered the Druid's screams as the corpses descended upon him, tearing at his flesh, consuming him, leaving nothing but blood and a pile of bones. The thought of it still haunts him to this day.