The three undead warriors standing in the front rank moved immediately to intercept them. Moved being the right word, they walked as if alive. No shambling gait, no flesh dropping off. Upon reflection, ‘zombie’ might be the wrong way to describe them. Their black or very dark blue skin sat like a tight-fitting desiccated husk over intact but shrunken muscles below. They seemed to function under a collective intelligence, given their coordination and ability to brandish very dangerous-looking short swords. Two in the back held bows with quivers full of arrows, which they were already knocking.
“Move back! Now! Up the stairs!” Sen yelled.
Cycling their Essence to their legs, they turned and ran back up the stairs and took two complete 180-degree turns, which was twenty steps in their count. Sen put his hand out, signaling Josh to stop. Two arrows hit the curving wall several steps down and behind them. The wooden missiles shattered against the marble and launched a shower of splinters all around them.
“We’ll meet the first draugr here; defeat it, and then move back up ten more stairs, another 180-degree turn. We are as good as dead if we don’t stay ahead of those archers!”
“Draugr?”
“Yes, they are the risen dead. Formed by spirits drawn to the bodies of those killed unjustly. If they touch us, they can leach our Essence. Don’t let them do that. We will need to destroy their heads. They feel no pain and are stopped only through crushed skulls, decapitation, or destruction with fire.”
Josh’s enhanced ears heard the draugr’s even steps about to round the corner into their sight. He raised his club overhead to bring it down on the first one that showed him the blacks of its eyes. Sen had said that typical draugr tactics were to overwhelm their opponents with simultaneous attacks. The bend in the stairway made that difficult until they reached the same step he was on. Josh, poised on the circular stairway’s narrower inside hub, Sen took a wide and more vulnerable stance on the broader outside.
A black and desiccated foot rounded the bend of the spiral stairs, immediately followed by the tip of a sword. Josh and Sen both swung their clubs down from overhead. They were fully cycling Essence to their arms and upper body. Both clubs struck true. Sen hit first, with Josh piling on a close second later. A burst of moldy green air with bits of moist and stinking leather-like scraps covered them as the draugr’s head exploded into foul-smelling nihility. Its body hit the floor in a twisted tangle of legs, arms, and moldering torso. The next draugr coming behind extended its arm and slashed at Sen with a rusted sword. Sen pulled back, narrowly avoiding the blade as it whistled through the air and clanged off the marble wall. Marble sparks filled the air around them, scoring bloody tracks on their faces and exposed skin.
Josh stepped forward with Essence cycling to his legs and sent a kick to push the defeated draugr’s freshly re-killed body down the stairs and into the coming attacker. Both undead and re-dead tumbled back down. An arrow shot from below skidded off of the surface of the rounded stairway’s wall. It missed Sen’s bent-over head by a fraction of an inch. Josh was pretty sure the archers would have had to advance up past the first turn to land a shot like that.
Grabbing Sen by the collar, Josh pulled him up as they ran to put a few more bends in the stairs between them and the pursuit. After two more full 180-degree turns, they stopped, waiting against the hub of the stairway to repeat what they had done. Silence filled the space as they waited, taking deep breaths. They waited and listened... and listened and waited... and... the draugrs... obviously... weren’t coming.
Still listening, Josh heard dry feet rasping on the rough steps, heading back down. He looked at Sen and pointed down the stairs. The question was evident on his face and through their Karmic Bond. Why aren’t they coming?
“They are risen undead... It doesn’t mean they’re stupid. They are waiting for us.”
“Where I come from, stupid is exactly what risen undead are supposed to be! Zombies that are smart enough to play a waiting game with us… are terrifying.” Josh stated, simultaneously checking his interface. Ninety-one percent free Essence remaining; 100 percent health.
“Not zombies... remnants. They are the spiritually risen undead. They are not the reanimated meat puppets of the Necrolon. Draugrs rise most commonly when a spirit that hasn’t migrated to the mortal soul nexus lingers in the place of its death near an empty vessel. Due to this, they have a rudimentary intelligence. Which is obviously enough to thwart our plans...” Sen trailed off.
“Well, run, Forest, run isn’t exactly an amazing strategy to begin with,” Josh said almost to himself. “But when you say intelligence, do you mean sitting around chatting about the current selection on the book-of-the-month club over a cup of Darjeeling or something similar to insect cognition level intelligence? Such as moving from the light to the dark, avoiding large overhead predators, and following attractive smells to food kind of intelligence?”
Sen’s mouth made a straight line as he thought about Josh’s question. “Most likely the second one... Why?”
“I think I may understand why they retreated. They aren’t waiting for us. They are following their draugr-cognition and returning to their home range. It’s a sort of crude territorial instinct that… simulations on my world used as a fighting mechanic.”
“What...” Sen looked blank-faced at Josh.
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Josh then spent the next fifteen minutes explaining to Sen the concepts of aggro, threat generation, pulling mobs, home range computer models, and the general play nature of video games.
“So, I’m not saying we are in a video game. Or anything like that. I’m a million percent certain that we are not.” Josh held both of his hands before him in surrender. “What I am saying is that I recognize this behavior model. Based on what I have seen so far, we should be able to predict the aggressive actions of these draugr in this particular set of circumstances.”
“So... Joshua, if I understand you correctly, to properly enact the ritual of the aggro, we have to get close enough for them to see us. Thereby generating the aggro. Then we need to run. But we must stay close enough for the aggro to continue. Or, as you say, to ‘kite the mobs’. If we go too far, we will defile the ritual, and the draugr will return to their reset point. The center of the landing at the bottom of the stairs. Then, we would have to perform the ritual all over again. Do I have it right, brother?”
Josh had been through this with Sen about ten times. He had initially encouraged him to conceptualize drawing aggro as a ritual because it helped Sen grasp the concepts.
Josh grinned to hold back his laughter. “Yes, you have it very well. This is a well-established ritual among my people, particularly amongst the gaming sect.” Josh clarified, with a studiously straight face. “Long have we known of its power and capabilities–at least from the early nineties.”
“Well established?” Sen raised quizzical eyebrows, “I never ran across it during my study of combat history on your planet. How often is it practiced?”,
“Some practitioners perform it dozens of times daily.” Josh said with a straight face. He wasn’t lying after all.
Sen took on a considering expression. “I’m surprised I missed it, my studies must not have been as thorough as I had thought – Thank you for sharing such important wisdom. Your people are wiser and more knowledgeable about draugr and cultivation than I had given them credit for.” Pursing his lips, Sen could sense the sincerity through their Bond. There could be no deception between them. “All right. It is worth a try.”
Josh looked up at Sen from the position he had propped himself against the wall. “How is it that you know so much about these... draugr, but nothing about so many other things, like eating, for instance?” The question had been nagging Josh.
“I’m a combat specialist who studied mortal physical combat for over five hundred years. Studying battle tactics against draugr was a part of that. They are one of the most common mortal undead forces encountered in the multiverse. There are even Immortal counterparts.” Sen nodded, affirming his statement.
“Liches?” Josh took a stab in the dark.
Sen raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Just so. I’m surprised you would know of such creatures.”
“I’m beginning to wonder a bit about that myself,” Josh admitted.
“Perhaps the history of your people is deeper than we know.” Sen spoke thoughtfully.
That makes sense. Josh nodded as well, pursing his lips in agreement. The first hint had been Gaia’s gossip-sharing about her children and family, the literal Greek mythological gods. Basically, confirming that humanities legends about them were terrifyingly accurate– if you can call being smashed in the face with the information a hint–that something was fundamentally strange about humanity's ancient myths. Maybe they aren’t just stories... Damn, she even casually mentioned Odin, Ra, and Osiris from the Norse and Egyptian pantheons…
Letting his thoughts slow cook on this issue, Josh set them off to the side for future consideration. Right now, there is still a job to do.
After creeping down the stairs to where they had defeated the first draugr, they took stock of the situation. The expunged draugr’s sword was where the body had initially fallen before Josh had kicked it down the stairs. Josh grabbed the weapon and handed it to Sen without a second thought. There was no doubt that between them, Sen was the more battle-capable and could put it to better use.
Sen inspected the weapon. A thick, double-edged short sword with a blade of seventy-five centimeters, made of a blunt-edged but serviceable iron. Its rusted and pitted surface was far from the well-cared-for weapons he used as an Immortal. But, compared to a stick he had dug out of a dirt wall... it was a significant upgrade.
Sen’s interface flashed.
Weapon Equipped: Short sword. Quality - poor. Damage has increased from negligible to poor. Cleave and dismemberment options are available for physical combat. Do you wish to continue with this as your new weapon?
A small box even popped up on his interface when he thought about it.
Weapon: Short Sword
Quality: Poor
Increasing the quality of the weapon will increase damage.
Bladed Weapons Skill Level: Advanced
Allows interface guidance for optimal usage.
Damage:
Average mundane
97% probability of 865% increased damage compared to unarmed damage. Increasing skill level will increase damage capabilities.
Sen, used to over three million years of interaction with his Ethos Combi, responded immediately.
Yes! Transcendence, I have missed you.
The interface responded with more information.
Optimal strike opportunities during battle will be highlighted in your visual perception.
Sen filled in Josh about the interface’s expanded capabilities. Josh looked at his root club.
Frowning, he muttered to himself. “I don’t have a little box. Maybe I’d like one too, huh... but no little box for me.” He squinted at Sen. “The next one is mine.”
“Of course, brother!” Sen laughed. “Of course.”
They also inspected the gear. Dirty and rusted. Pre-owned by a vile, rank-smelling undead. But much better than what they had been dealing with... which was nothing! Looking over draugr’s gear, the bracers and greaves were salvageable and split between them. Sen took the greaves, Josh, the bracers.
Josh eyed the thick, dark, and pitted metal on his wrists. The leather straps were moldering but still supple enough to open and attach over his forearms. His face puckered at the feel of the disgusting leather against his skin. “You are so getting boiled the very first chance I get...”
Despite Josh’s greatest hope, no boxes popped when he donned the armor. The Clone had said that its function would increase with their cultivation. Perhaps weapons were all that it could support at this point? Time would tell.
Josh pointed to the draugr’s deformed and now looted body. He moved his hand in its direction, indicating to Sen through their Bond that he was going to collect its Essence.
Sen grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled it away from the corpse. Josh looked back at him, surprised. Sen shook his head, face set in stone.
Undead are not spiritual beings that cultivate Essence. They consume it, much like your version of… vampires. Damni had me watch several historical records called... movies... I think... Draugrs with skin that shined in the sunlight... Anyway... they do not carry or cultivate Essence as we do. They consume it to perpetuate motion after the spark of their soul is lost. If you gathered enough of their energy, you would likely start to become one of them. I may not have been on the path of an Atalmon or a Vitalist... but these facts are well known.”
Josh scurried away from the corpse as if suddenly afraid it would grab his hand and feed him its undeath.
Without taking his eyes off it, he spoke. “Thanks for the tip... Don’t take Essence from undead things... got it. Does that mean there is no use for their cores?” Josh wrinkled his nose at the body. “... Seems like a waste.”
Sen squinted in deep consideration at Josh’s unexpected question, but his answer held the weight of sincerity. “... Becoming a spiritually raised undead is a dark path many mortal cultivators have dedicated their entire existences to… But these are not subjects I have delved into beyond their the… undeads’ relevance as combatants or a military force. I do not recommend involvement with the forces that shape them at this stage in our cultivations.”
Josh tipped his head in a nod of acquiescence at Sen’s seriousness. ~Understood and agreed.~
With Josh’s conversion into the undead avoided. It was time to get to work.
Sen patted his shoulder, and a dangerous gleam came into his eye. “Let us begin the aggro!”
Josh chuckled at Sen. “For sure, brother, let’s begin ‘the aggro’.”