The Sorcerer's Ascension (11 page)

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Authors: Brock Deskins

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: The Sorcerer's Ascension
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“Or course I was brilliant, dear, what did you expect?”

Borik and Malek chased after their impulsive leader and engaged the mummies that now had her surrounded. Maude swung her glowing steel at one of the mummies, decapitating it in one blow. Her elation was short lived however, as one of the mummies that had managed to shuffle in behind her landed a punch to her back that sent the warrior flying several feet before rolling to a stop in a heap of metal.

Fortunately, her two companions rejoined the melee before the powerful undead creatures could press their attack while she shakily regained her feet. Malek swung high on one smoldering mummy while Borik swung low, each solidly connecting. The horrific creature tumbled to the floor and did not move again.

 
Maude finally regained her feet and, ignoring the pain and stiffness in her throbbing shoulder, rejoined the fight. Tarth recovered from his glee and preening and launched another scorching bolt of flame at the back of the other mummy. Immolated in fire, the creature set one of its companions aflame when it blindly lurched and crashed into it. The group quickly brought down the remaining shambling creatures, thankful to be alive after such a harrowing encounter.

Once Malek had attended their wounds, the group searched among the charred mummified remains for any spoils. A few had been wearing jewelry, although the magical fire that destroyed their hosts had melted much of the gold.

They formed up once again and continued their exploration of the huge underground crypt. The party came upon several tombs and sarcophagi recently vacated by the mummies they had fought a short time ago.

“I thought these royals were buried with a hoard of wealth?” Borik complained as he picked through the few gold coins, goblets, and lesser gems. “There’s hardly anything in these fancy coffins."

“These probably belonged to the noble’s guards. They were interred to provide a guard for their leader in the afterlife,” Malek patiently explained.

“Do you think they were dead before they were posted here? If not I can certainly see why they have such a bad attitude towards the living.”

Malek replied, “It is said that in centuries past, the entire household staff was executed and interred with the noble upon his death to serve and protect him when he passed from this world to the next.”

“So when someone made a toast to their master’s health, the help really meant it. That’s one way to keep the assassins at bay I guess. Lousy retirement plan though,” the dwarf said, chuckling at his own joke.

“We need to be careful. We should be getting near the master’s tomb. I hope that only his servants and guards carry the curse of undeath. If not, who knows what form he may take,” the cleric cautioned.

The passageway opened into a large ornately decorated chamber. The walls were covered in painted murals, mosaics made of polished stone, and tattered decaying tapestries that had once been richly colored and magnificently woven. Malek prayed to his deity for several spells of enchantment to protect their small party of adventurers and provide some small blessings to aid them in combat. He surrounded himself in the white light once again, readying the spell that had been effective against the shadows.

The small group crept wearily into the chamber, but the nightmares that were set to guard their precious lord and his treasures were already waiting for them. Zombies shambled forward while swifter and deadlier wights leapt at the interlopers, hissing obscenities, and promising a painful death for the intrusion of the living.

Malek raised his sacred golden orb and called upon the holy might of Solarian to banish the undead minions. Most of the zombies and lesser undead creatures fell instantly. A few simply turned and fled. The cleric forced back two of the wights, but the rest tore into the stalwart group with a blood lusted frenzy.

Maude swung her heavy blade into the nearest wight, which elicited an ear-piercing shriek from it as her blade bit deep into the undead creature.

Borik blocked a swipe that nearly tore his face off with his razor sharp axe, removing the arm halfway down from the elbow of the offending creature before cutting deeply into the side of its chest. Tarth, in a rare moment of clarity, sent a searing jet of flame across two of the foul undead causing them to retreat in fear of the deadly fire.

Malek whispered another prayer to his god and wreathed the head of his war hammer in cleansing flames. He swung the now blessed weapon with a fury, every blow that connected sending a burst of fire that scorched and destroyed the dead flesh of the abominations.

“This is going rather well, I must say,” Malek commented, breathing heavily with exertion.

“Just don’t lose your focus, it’s not over yet. The lid on that big sarcophagus just shifted. I think the big boy is coming out to play,” warned Maude.

The heavy stone lid slid off the carved stone sarcophagus with a thunderous crash. A large skeletal figure climbed out of what should have been his final resting place and looked deliberately at the intruders.

“A skeleton, are you serious? We finally find the big bad boss of this place and it’s just a skeleton? An ugly one to be sure, but I really expected a lich or at least a vampire,” complained Borik but with a sense of relief at not having to battle one of the more dreaded undead.

The undead lord strode purposefully with unusual grace for a skeleton, shoving his minions out of his way in his bid to engage the interlopers who dared to defile his resting place. Borik battled his way forward to meet the oncoming monstrosity, cutting his way through the lesser undead with a singular purpose.

Suddenly, the large undead creature burst forward with startling speed and kicked the dwarf with such force that it stove in his breastplate and sent him flying across the room to strike the wall several yards behind them.

“I think we have a problem, Maude. That is no ordinary skeleton,” Malek warned with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Tell me something I don’t know. Tarth, slow that thing down.”

The wizard waved his hands in a complex pattern, muttering the words of a complicated incantation, and released a large flaming arrow at the furious and powerful undead lord. It struck the creature square in the chest, but although they could see where the bones charred from the continuous flames, it failed to slow the creature down or even distract it.

It lunged forward again and Maude was just barely fast enough to raise her sword in defense when the creature smashed into her. Even then, she was thrown back several feet before rolling to a standing position once again.

“Everyone fall back, pick up that dwarf, and let’s get the hell out of here!” shouted the large warrior. “Tarth, you need to find a way to slow that thing down; I don’t think it will follow us outside.”

“I’ll do my best, dear,” answered the wizard.

Malek grabbed the dwarf by his arm and dragged him noisily down the passageway from which they had entered. Maude took up the job of guarding their rear as best she could while the group fled down the hall towards the exit that they prayed would promise safety.

“Wait just a moment, Maudeline, while I try something,” Tarth urged.

Maude paused to guard the wizard while Malek dragged the limp dwarf towards safety. Thick ropy webs instantly filled a hundred yards of passageway, effectively blocking off the entire corridor with its strong sticky strands. The lesser undead that remained were caught fast but the undead lord ripped the strands apart like they were pasta noodles, only slowing him slightly.

“That’s the best I can do, darling, best we retreat with all haste,” Tarth advised.

The group continued their flight, racing through the chamber where they had fought the mummies and shadows.

“Did we win?” Borik mumbled as he slowly regained consciousness.

“Yes, we won, I am carrying you in celebration of our overwhelming victory,” replied Malek sarcastically.

Borik glanced behind him at the onrushing skeletal monstrosity that was tearing its way through the last bits of webbing that futilely tried to bar its way.

“I suggest you speed this celebratory parade up a bit, cleric, that thing does not appear to be in a very festive mood.”

“Then why don’t you get off your bum and get on your feet? It’s like dragging a sack of rocks.”

“I guess I could do that,” Borik replied helpfully, lurching to his feet and running unsteadily behind the winded cleric.

“Keep running, I have an idea,” the dwarf instructed his group as he knelt to at the floor trigger he had disabled previously.

Maude and Tarth ran past but paused with Malek several yards beyond the trap to wait for the dwarf as he pulled out the spike the held the large floor tile in place before he ran to join the others and continuing their flight.

The skeletal lord sprinted up the passageway with frightening speed and stepped heavily on the now functional trigger. Several thick-hafted spears tore into the bones of the creature’s rib cage and joints. It let out a scream of rage as it tore the shafts to splinters that dared to impede it.

Maude and her band raced out into the afternoon sun just as the vengeful spirit tore its way free of the trap that had been set to protect it. Still tethered outside the entrance to the crypt, it was fortunate their horses were where they had left them. The party cut the tethers, leapt into the saddles, and tore off towards the nearest point of civilization with all haste.

“Well that was a remarkably unfruitful adventure!” the dwarf complained as they raced across the barren landscape.

“We found enough plunder to feed us for a time and walked away with our lives. I think I would call that a mild success. Try being a little more grateful; we may not be rich but at least we’re not dead,” Malek shot back.

“We’ll do better next time. I heard a rumor of an abandoned city in the hills of Elberran. With luck, we won’t run into anything more dangerous than some goblins or orcs,” Maude said hopefully.

Borik made a grimace of distaste. “I hope so, I’ve had my fill of undead and don’t care to ever deal with the foul creatures again.”

“We destroyed a fair number of the hated abominations. Solarian is pleased, it was a noble accomplishment,” Malek said piously. “By the way, where is Tarth?” the cleric asked looking around.

Maude looked over her shouldered and spied the half-lucid elf kneeling beside his horse studying a patch of wildflowers a hundred yards back as the rest of the group pressed onward.

“For crying out loud!” Maude cursed as they wheeled their mounts around to retrieve the distracted wizard.

CHAPTER 6

Azerick knew that there was several abandoned building in the old industrial district. Years ago, this had been the center of commerce for the many trade goods that went in and out of the city, but over the past couple of decades, the economy of the nation had been continuously declining and fewer and fewer goods and trades came into and went out of the city. The district was a sore reminder of better times, but many of the abandoned warehouses and trade goods shops now served as shelter to the city’s many homeless.

As Azerick picked his way down the dark deserted streets, he spied several buildings that had burned to ground. Sometimes an entire block would show the ravages of past fires. Fire was always a real fear of those who dwelled within the city. The Watch kept close tabs on the abandoned buildings, chased out, and sometimes arrested anyone they found residing within them due to the fear of a vagrant’s cook fire or a fire built for life saving warmth during the winter might set the buildings aflame and spread to the more inhabited sections of the city. Azerick found these fears did not lack merit as he passed by another fire-scorched building.

He spied an abandoned tannery that looked promising. Unfortunately, there was a man standing in the darkened doorway, apparently keeping some sort of watch. Azerick watched him for a few minutes before another man appeared in the doorway and the two began a quiet conversation of some kind. With the anxiety of what had happened to him in the alley still fresh in his mind, he decided it was best to avoid everyone and was about to move on when his ears picked up the sound of marching feet.

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