Kapa Boss lumbers through the canopy of the swamp, its vines and thickets snapping under his weight as he presses forward toward the Kapa Capital City. The Boss would have made it to the city sooner; however, his belly was full of dead Kapa that floated downstream under the pull of the swamp’s gentle tides. The small feast took many hours to properly appreciate as he discarded the shells and ripped limps to get to the tender meat underneath. Now that it was nearly night, or whatever constitutes night within the bowels of a Dungeon, and the city walls and edifices crest over the horizon, uncharacteristically dark considering the time of a day but still a wonder of Kapa engineering, to build such a city in a swamp so unforgiving.
It isn’t until the Boss gets closer that he notices that something is terribly wrong—
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Chief Mackie Mark the 13th watches the skeleton warriors with trepidation. The reports were disturbing enough; Kapa soldiers, slaughtered by the dozen, were forced to retreat to the safety of the city walls. Now a strong phalanx, three rows deep, protects the front gate, and Kapa soldiers with heavy spears line the walls. No demon or monster could push against this formation easily, let alone two mere skeleton warriors. Yet, fear runs wild inside the Chief’s limited imagination because, while he expects the warriors to charge headlong into their spears, instead, they are gathering supplies a fair distance from their gates.
And while the Chief could order his soldiers forward and destroy the skelly menace, his commanders’ firm grip on the troops makes him think twice about overriding their authority. From Mackie Mark’s perspective, losing more soldiers in an open battle with the undead when they could have waited for the monsters to bash themselves against their phalanx seems unwise. Especially when they haven’t spotted the enemy necromancer who is no doubt whispering instructions to his undead minions. As long as there are only two enemies, the Chief figures, the city could not be truly under siege!
So while the Kapa's hold firm to the row of spears and pikes, the Necro Party gets to work gathering firewood, spears, and anything that can be used as kindling. Greg and Doug work tirelessly, with one warrior always on watch for a charge from the Kapa, always ready to abandon their position, fight in the swamp’s shallows or simply retreat if the numbers are truly against them. And though Greg expects some resistance, he becomes happily accustomed to the Kapa’s leery gazes from behind their walls.
Because the hard part isn’t the ire of the turtle monsters but finding proper firewood in the midst of a swamp! The only thing immediately dry is the wood of the Kapa gates, which is already guarded rather well. So Greg and Doug do the best they can with what they have, cutting the top branches and vines of surrounding trees and ringing out the moisture from picked weeds, which was hard to do without proper hands. They gather their lump of unsuitable firewood, and stack it higher and higher, while also making a defensive ring with the retrieved long spears.
The plan is indeed coming together, Greg thinks. A part of his mind wonders if he should be concerned about all the women and children the Kapas are probably defending. This isn’t a video game, Greg thinks. A village that big can’t be all soldiers… But then another part of Greg’s mind whispers in his ear, the instinctual part amplified by his undead status and shared by all creatures able to gain levels-
“But the EXP, though…”
And Greg works at starting a fire as Doug stands guard, waiting for the Kapa to make a move. The world seems to fade away as Greg strikes two stones used as ammo for his sling together over and over. He doesn’t know if they have optimal fire-starting capabilities. Still, he figures that his hands, unlike normal humans, don’t tire, so eventually, unless truly unlucky, he can create enough friction for a fire. He is indeed unlucky, but he is persistent, as what feels like hours passes before the sparks of friction fly into the firewood and materials he hoped could be used as kindling. However, with no ability to breathe on the sparks as they create small embers, the fire remains subdued due to the poor, slightly damp material.
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But that too can be solved with persistence as Greg strikes and strikes until he feels the heat of the sparks in his boney fingers, and even that didn’t bother him as the sparks flew in increasing intensity. The sounds of alarm ring through the Kapa guards and soldiers, some pointing in excitement, wondering if the skeleton warriors intended to make camp, others amazed by the seeming intelligence of the otherwise undead minions. Yet still, they stand fast, not willing to leave the safety of their walls, while rotating soldiers in and out of the phalanx. If this was a siege, they would outlast the Skellys, and strike when they were unaware!
When the fire catches, it begins to rage within the limits of the impromptu campsite, giving the skeleton warriors devilish shadows that pronounce their skeletal frames down the bank leading to the Kapa city. For a moment, Greg feels a certain inspiration, an urge, if you will, to dance and frolic in his achievement, and the thought is contagious because even Doug feels the overwhelming impulse. So as the fire grows, the warriors dance, waving swords and spears in the air in a tribal giggle that unnerves the Kapa soldiers who watch them move in and around the bonfire that smells of horrid swamp gasses and the evil lurking within the bog.
Even Chief Mackie Mack, 13th of his name, wants to retreat to the safety of the imperial hut in the city’s center. If only to escape the foul smells emitting from the smoke generated by the growing flames. In fact, his feet move independently of him as he backs up, inch by inch. His Commanders’ leathery necks grow tense, sensing something is wrong but not knowing exactly how. Surely a fire means nothing in the face of this many troops, the Kapa Commanders think in unison.
But then the unthinkable happens—
When the fire reaches its peak, Greg grabs one of the planted spears and hovers it over the flames, and while the metal tip doesn’t ignite, the wooden shaft does.
“RALLY CRY!” Greg shouts before running at the Kapa gates. “FORWARD THRUST!” And with power amplified by Rally Cry, Greg tosses the spear at nearly twice the distance he normally could, turning it into a flaming projectile aimed not at the Kapa but their protective walls.
Greg doesn’t wait to see if the walls catch fire. He is already running back to grab more spears and repeat the process. Only when the fifth spear flies into the air, landing on a guard tower with a thunk, do the Kapa inside process what is happening. As absurd as this is, the Skeleton Warriors are trying to burn their city to the ground!
Screams of panic, screams of charge, screams of “MOVE!” “NO, YOU!” echo as the panic sets in, and the Commanders and Squad Leaders try to reign in their troops, ordering them to stand fast, keep rank, or even prepare to fight to the death.
“For the women and children!!” one Kapa Commander, a turtle named Sergeant Mackie Wayne, shouts. His sword, a mark of rank, held high as he charged the skeleton warriors. Confusion fills the ranks of the phalanx formation, unsure whether to run with Sergeant Wayne or hold the gate even as the walls begin to burn.
And in this chaos and building smoke, the Mackie Wayne bellows a guttural challenge at the two skeleton warriors hoping to cut one down to prove to his men that they’re not invincible, just creatures of Mana, with no real power of their own.
“Kapa are PROUD!” Commander Wayne wants to scream before a spear cracks his chest, and he doubles over backward. The Commander coughs blood and tries to pull the spear from the ridge beneath his shoulder blades, but then his hands touch the part of the spear that is on fire. The pain is instant, and his screams and curses are loud and booming through the acrid black smoke that covers the battlefield. In this panic state; impaled, burnt, and double over, he doesn’t see a figure, tall and wraith-like, looming over him.
A certain warrior named Doug, who in casual pity, aims his own spear down.
NecroParty has gained 45 EXP from Kapa Commander