Scales and Honor: Darkened Skies

  Chapter 6: Threading the Needle

  “Already? I thought it would have been longer before we found the undead. How’d they even get this bloody close? Nivarra’s harsh words lingered in the air, punctuated by a jab of her slendor finger into Lyndis’ leather armored chest. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be doing?” She fought the urge to smack it away and offer her a scowl. She instead backed away.

  “Any of you lot could have spotted the shamblin blighters before they was on top of us!” Nivarra’s face reddened as she thrust an accusing finger towards Shandalar, who was calmly reading her parchment. The elf’s nose was practically pressed to the manila surface.

  “I’d watch that tone if I was you Niv. If it weren’t for me and my bleedin friends, you’d be six feet under by now.” Lyndis’ voice came sternly and calm, the fire lingering in Nivarra’s eyes suddenly vanished. The woman sighed, her face turning to a reflection of the worried masses around her. The color was drained from their faces and silence lingering where there should have been talking.

  “Y…You’re right.” The nervous woman sighed, her face falling with a slump of her shoulders. “Sorry for the harsh words. Just been a rough time for us…Especially with the fact Stathmore was destroyed.” Nivarra’s eyes lifted, drifting to Veledar who was busy getting his harness on with the help of his paladin. The red dragon seemed to be more interested in nuzzling the man than getting ready to set out though. “Just it’s all so real now.”

  How could she think this wasn’t going to happen?

  Lyndis sighed, placing a hand to the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry bout it. Everyone’s nerves are on edge. Probably for the best anyway, when you’re looking out for your life it’s harder to catch you by surprise.”

  “Speak fer yerself lass! I got an arrow or two with a spooky, shamblin, Not good for nothin undead’s name on it!” Merlia shouted, sharpening the head of one of arrows with a wet stone.

  “Some of us more than others I suppose.” She crossed her arms, chuckling at the dwarves enthusiasm.

  “So, do we turn back?” One person asked, voice lingering with concern.

  “What about the orcs?” An older woman with a creased face whispered with a harsh voice. “Do you suppose we’re surrounded?”

  “Hey!Hey!” Lyndis’ voice rose like the sea, instantly silencing the moans of worry. She turned to Shandalar and Arcturus, really wishing they were right here to help quell this worry. She buried the concern, “We have to keep going forward. The next town Roselake isn’t that much further. Turning back with our tails between our legs will only waste more resources and we will be heading right back into the focken orcs.”

  “We don’t even know if the way forward is safe!” The old woman thrusted her wooden cane towards the treeline. “We could be wondering into a trap!”

  “That’s.” The half-elf’s stomach gripped tightly as she remembered her choice with Azzik. How she had urged him on despite the danger presen, and fear swirling within his eyes. “We…have to…It’s the only one we have at the moment.” She waved to Veledar who had seen her movement and swollen his chest up in pride. “We got the dragon with us. We can beat off a few undead that come our way.” She shot daggers from her eyes as Krotos walked by, beak smirking at her comment. “Even some of the banshee things they had.” She gave the worried townsfolk a fake smile, while her heart remained uncertain. Her bluff seemed to work as the people nodded and accepted her words. They quickly gathered their things. Not a voice of worry to be found.

  “Just keep it all together.” She whispered to herself as she loaded her rolled up sleeping bag onto her riding wolf. She finished tightening a leather strap before lifting herself up over the beasts back and settling into the worn leather saddle. She peered to Veledar as the red dragon strode by, who had opted to not fly because of the thick canopy overhead. You could see the lingering irritation in his eyes as the dragon glared flames at the tree’s many branches. Though she giggled as that fire seemed to smoulder the moment Arcturus began stroking the dragon’s scaled neck. “We aren’t out of this yet.” She grabbed the wolf’s reins and willed him to head out. With a flick of its tail the canine scampered forward to pass the dragon with a marf.

  Lyndis had to shieled her eyes from the sun’s intense glare. The furious flaming sphere’s rays sneaking their way through the canopy to brighten the forest floor and give it a more tranquil look. She hugged her wolf for warmth as an icy wind caressed her cheek. It coiled around, her eyes narrowing as she watched Arcturus jealously as she clutched at her cloak. The man seemed undisturbed by the winds bite. She found herself wishing she had the dragon’s warmth to chase away this biting cold.

  The next few hours passed incredibly slow as hushed whispers and worried voices seemed to rise above all the other noises of their passing. They spoke of monsters, evil magics that could strike the living to death without as much as a blink, and what devilish fates awaited them at the bony claws of the undead. Lyndis couldn’t blame them of course as she bit her lip, remembering those cold dead eyes of the banshee as she had siphoned the life from that orc. She found herself shifted her head towrds any little noise, be it a snapping twig, groan of a tree, or the lone fluttering of a bird’s wings. Each sound would echo all around and leave her icy and cold. Though she figured that might just be the wind. As the wolf she had named Swiftness avoided a hole in the road she considered if she had made the right choice. She watched motes of dirt of sand float within the tendrils of light and wondering how many would die because of her choice.

  How many will end up like that little kobold?

  She glanced back to the scared faces of her people, huddling together in their mobile wooden boxes and clinging to loved ones like this would be their last days alive. She sighed, shifting her view to the pillars of strength within her caravan, the individuals who the undead seemed to not trouble nor strike fear into their hearts. Veledar was the first to come to mind, striding along the others with his head raised in that regal sort of way he usually did. His cerulean eyes ever on the watch for any wicked monstrosity to leap out and rip the bloody thing to raggedy shreds. If she didn’t know any better that little glimmer of silliness he had seemed to always have had melted away, leaving in its place a wise and powerful drake that would shield all others in his shadow.

  Arcturus was the next one, sitting atop his dragon with a reflection of the beast’s posture and face. Calm and unafraid that the trees seemed to be reaching for them, uncaring that undead stalked their movements. She smiled whenever the man would try talking to her people, telling them to keep strength, not give into the dread wrapping around them, and that there always a light to cling to. Even in the most consuming darkness.

  Asterion was the last one, riding atop his wolf like he was master rider. His hands were like iron around the reins, his darkened pools unwavering as he stood erect. Even the harsh breeze did little to disrupt his stoic stance. Feku was clutching at his waist, her tail swishing back and forth with each steady stride of his powerful wolf. Lyndis sighed, wishing she had their courage and strength in this moment. Wondering how they maintained their composure while everyone was counting on them. She rose a hand to caress the green scale around her neck with the next patter of paws by swifty. She was almost lost away in her thoughts over her green dragon when they spotted the first of the undead during the day.

  From the thick trees and branches came a shambling line of six orcs, their armor tattered, and skin torn in several places. Organs hung to the ground from sliced bellies as the pale faced monsters dragged blood-soaked axes in the dirt. Arcturus held up a hand, the rest of her friends taking the vanguard with weapons drawn. They ordered the caravan to hold as the dragon let loose a growl and barreled into them with teeth barred. With sword, rapier, and the dragon, the lumbering sacks of rotted flesh didn’t even know what hit them. They were sliced into mis matched pieces that thumped and plopped onto the ground in mis-shaped chunks.

  She was about to stow her weapon when she gazed down to one such creature’s still wriggling limb. Despite missing its head and part of it’s left arm the zombie was still trying to stand. With a sigh she drew her weapon and stabbed down into the thing’s torso, destroying whatever magic was keeping it together forever. With a quick wipe of her blade she returned it to its resting place within her holster.

  “See now Krotos?” Veledar grinned, showing off his teeth and flicking away some blackened goo from his talons into the trees. “Undead? Nothing to worry about.” The red turned his tail, wiggling his frills. “Not a single scratch on me!”

  “That’s because my brightness, there wasn’t a lot of them.” The gryphon grumbled, as Merlia hacked each one of the bodies into a pile of limbs and black smears. “What the hell are you even doing?” The bird raised a brow as a dull smack answered him.”

  “Makin sure da bastards stay down. Dey got dis habit of getting up when ya don’t want it. Course normally I’d like that in a man but dis lot? She kicked one’s torso, sending the fleshy thing rolling a few yards away. “Not in yer life.” She stowed her axes, a smirk spreading to her lips before she let out a laugh, smacking her white furred leather.” Course dey all look like deve been a dwarvin party.”

  “Everyone’s missing their heads?” The gryphon stepped over a pool of filth, making sure to keep his talons clean.

  “No not dat gryphon. But all the bodies…Picture dat dey be unconscious.” She pointed to an elf’s torso cut into three pieces. “Now Imagine dere be a keg right dere.”

  “I don’t really see the-“

  Lyndis had not stayed to listen to the witty words about dwarf parties, instead striding past the paladin and dragon. The man had just let out a sigh as Krotos had been evidently playing with the dwarf with his questions. It would most likely not be long till the dwarf was as red as the dragon’s scales and chasing him with a loaded bow. She waved to the town to continue their slow movements, their eyes practically glued to the undead bodies littering the road. She could not tell it out of happiness for their destruction, or dread that they had found more undead within the trees. She sighed as she looked to the path before them, already spying more of the shambling humans in the distance. “Looks like we’re not going to get a reprieve.” She leaped up onto her wolf, and his reins. The canine let out a howl and picked up the pace as she pulled her rapier with a hiss. Her friends followed suit right behind her, with Asterion, Krotos, and Merlia right behind her.

  “Good! I tire of all this travel. I relish the opportunity to do battle with the most hated foe of living kind!” Asterion shouted, only causing Merlis to slap her knee and let out a resounding laugh.

  “You be wrong cleric! The most hated foe of mortal kind be spiders!” She thumbed her chest, swishing her braid behind her neck. “I’d take thousands of undead over one of them transporting spiders in the red dragon’s lair!” When the bull gave her an inquisitive look with a tilted head she held up her hands. “Nasty blue tings dey were! Almost made me heart leap from me chest!”

  They rode forward into the thin groups of horrors and cut them down without too much incident. Lyndis found them much too slow with their flailing arms trying to lash out with weapons locked within their grips. Quick plunges down their skulls all it took with her rapier to fell them. She had coated her blade with blackened ooze in no time at all.

  “Got Seventeen!” Merlia cheered, cleaving heads from their shoulders with savage slashes from her twin axes. The dwarf hugged Krotos close as the bird sprinted passed with squawks and chirps of fear. She felt bad for him as she pulled her blade from her latest zombie victim with a schlick. The thing’s torn up body slid back to the ground with a plop, it’s pale rotted flesh unmoving. She took an extended breath taking that sound as a final compliment, one last thanks for returning the dead’s rightful place to the soil.

  “Krotos! Stop yer runnin around like a headless chicken! Dey are not dat scary! By Thor’s beard ya got talons that can rip dem ta pieces lad!” She lashed out with her sharpened heads, cleaving two more as Krotos ran by. “Eighteen! Nineteen!”

  The blue gryphon finally pounced, sinking his talons into a zombified half-elf and ripping one’s head off with a powerful strike of his claws. The thing’s neck sprayed a thin burst of blackened blood that coated the poor gryphon’s feathers. Despite the look of horror on his feathers being sullied in such a way the bird did not cease his movements. He swerved and ducked, eventually spreading his wings and leaping into the air. “You almost got me killed!” He cried, Merlia pointed to the ground.

  “No I didn,t and look…ya got some dirt on ya!” The Dwarf pulled out her bow. “So proud of ya!”

  “Stop it woman! You’re ruining my feathers! Do you know how long it will take.” His anger dissolved into angry squawks and chirps as Veledar crashed through several zombies that had taken to blocking the path ahead.

  “Nineteen dwarf?” He pulled his maw back, incinerating a group with fire as they emerged from the trees. The shambling walking corpses fell to the ground engulfed in flames, soon being reduced to ash. “I believe that I am up to sixty.”

  “Yer a dragon! I’m not even competen with ya! It’s Asterion I be contestin!”

  Lyndis chuckled, as the red rolled his eyes with a huff, ripping apart several other corpses with little effort as Arcturus sliced any that his dragon missed with his flame halberd that he had gotten from his mate’s lair. Each time the red blade entered an undead torso it would illuminate with a brilliant white light and explode, sending chunks of rotted flesh splattering against the red’s hide. The poor dragon’s scales were practically smeared with the aftermath of their undead foes. He would probably request his paladin to bath him when this was all through. She let out a cheer of victory, signaling to the caravan to continue their advance as the last of the zombies before them were felled. Despite she and her friends victories the town still was filled with faces of terror and dread as eyes drifted from corpse to corpse laid out to bare. She cleaned her blade with a rag, trying to block out words of fear. Her mind drifted, skin shivering as she remembered Stathhome. How could they fight something like that? When you slew several dozens and they had literal thousands to replace them? She stowed her blade and took place back at the front as Veledar, Asterion, and Merlia started bragging about how many things they had struck down. In the end it was the dragon that had crowned himself the victor despite the protests from her friends and insisting that they were saving their spells for the long road ahead.

  The hours passed by in a routine that could almost be predicted. Groups of zombies or skeletons would emerge from the surroundings, they would stop and dispatch them with sword, spell, and wave the wagons forward. By the time they finally stopped for a rest all of them were begging for a reprieve. Townsfolk militia had been stationed around the carts with rifles and spears as the weary adventurers took a moment to collect themselves and rest. Merlia had handed out good berries with a wave of her hand, the bright blue berries with purple spots working warmth into Lyndis’ fingers as she munched away. It was like the sores in her hand had all but vanished. She knew they would comeback to taunt at her, but it would help for now. Especially if they wanted to push onward to the next town before nightfall.

  She spread out her blue blanket with gold stitching on the edges, the linen something she had stashed years ago in her haste to get on with her journey. She kneeled on it, closing her eyes and focusing on her spells as the sound of worried people threatened to distract her. The occasional sound of rifle fire thundered through the air, making her ears twitch and pull her from her relaxed mind to remind her about the encroaching undeath hordes surrounding them. She cracked open an amber eye to realize she had begun trembling at the mere thought.

  What if Roselake is just as overrun?

  She shook her head, not wanting think about it. Nor did she want to realize that they didn’t have the strength to head back into this sea of death if they wanted to turn around. She glanced to Veledar with a heart pounding in her chest like a drum. The dragon had his head raised, and his limbs curled around his human like a stone wall. His frills would twitch ever so softly in the breeze as his eyes stared intense flames to the slow moving undead around them.

  You could always fly away.

  The thought did little to ease her mind as she thought to the carpet of Shandalar’s, Veledar’s wings, or Krotos’ feathers. While they could escape unharmed by the undead and set course for Struport, that would leave all these people to die by undead hands and teeth. But it was as Shandalar had said days ago.

  At what point do you cut off the limb to save the body?

  She lowered her head as the grim thought wormed around her heart and pulled firmly at the strands. She could feel the ease it would be to slip and let such thoughts bury the bravery she knew lurked within her. Thankfully the near deafening sound of rifles firing away shattered her worried thoughts like brittle clay.

  “I said hold yer shots till dey get closer!” Merlia shouted, stomping her way over to some wolven holding their rifles firmly against their chests. “Ya going ta make um cry out laughin at your lack of aim! I seen better shots den a blind orc missin an arm!”

  “Something troubling you princess?” Shandalar’s stern, calm voice an island to cling to in the sea of troubles. It allowed her to focus on her instead of the lingering plight of her people or the now cursing dwarf. The elf had taken position beside her, legs crossed over one another. She folded her hands in her lap, eyes filled with concern. There was a momentary pause before Lyndis held her head and sighed.

  “Just everything that is placed on us….Did we even make the right call to head further into my countries lands? I look around at all the shamblin death and can’t help but wonder if we’re leading them to an even more gruesome deaths than if we would have stayed.” Images of gnashing teeth ripping apart flesh filled her mind, complete with faint screams of the would-be victims.

  “Hard to say. We can’t really change the course of action we already chose. But regardless you must keep a strong upper chin as they always say.” The elf rose her hand to cup Lyndis’ chin, steadily rising it so they were looking right into each other’s eyes. Lyndis felt calm, her heartbeat slowing, her breaths coming easier as she glared into those blue spheres.

  “Yes bu-“

  “No buts.” Shandalar held up a finger placing the tip to Lyndis’ lips. “These people we have adopted are looking to you out of everyone for strength.”

  “Pff.” She rolled her eyes, the thought absurd. Look to her for strength? When they had the dragon or paladin to look to? “Who went and told you such hog water?”

  “It’s true if you simply pay attention.” Shandalar’s brows stitched together as she glanced to the crowd.

  “How you suppose that is then? I didn’t go telling them I’m the bleeding princess, did I?”

  “Even so, you’re the only Drenedarian here among our group. That in itself is reason enough to look to you. While they may distrust some like the paladin, or question others like myself or the dragon. You on the other hand are a little slice of normality that they have come to know. So, it is to you that they will look to, draw their strength when they feel as though it is being snatched away by the void.

  Pulling her head away with a dismissive snort she let her eyes linger to the huddled worried faces plastered on all her people. Cold lapped at her as she saw shivering children being held by concerned parents, stroking hair and letting them know things were going to be okay. “Still doesn’t seem right when you say it. Just a bloke with a sword and some friends to them. You’d think they’d find more comfort in the dragon. You know the ole saying. Find protection under his shadow and all that.” She waved to Veledar, who had only ceased his watchful glare to nuzzle his human every few minutes.

  “True he may be one of the pillars of strength they find during this dark time, but it tiss not the only one.” She sighed. “Now don’t go uttering this to him, for I fear it shall increase his ego to levels that we dare not fathom. He is a good omen here, and without him I’m not sure they would have listened to our plan so easily. You can see it in your people when they look to his strength even when things shamble and drag rotted limbs to come devour them. They look to his flames and scales and know things are going to be brighter for his assistance. “ As if to punctuate her point a thunderous volley screamed through the air, making her ears twitch and sting.

  “So why when they have all the gloriousness of our red brightness do they look to me? He can fly, breathe fire, has scales tougher than anything I got. Why look to me? Just being from the land can’t be everything…Can it?”

  Shandalar held out her hands, closing them together for a moment before spreading them around towards the masses. “Having just the dragon isn’t just enough Lyndis. You need to be just as strong looking. They see themselves in you, not the strength he possesses, but of something else. Symbols can be very important in times such as these. Why do you think I waited for the dragon at the estate?” She rose a brow. “Despite his ability to spit in the face of logic and his infuriating game to spark anger in me…” She softly spun her eyes to the dragon, letting a sigh work it’s way from her chest. “I’m rather glad he’s here.”

  “Also, that someone tends ta listen to what ya got to say when ya got a dragon to back you up.”

  A small smirk tugged at the elves face. “Perhaps a little of that as well.”

  They sat in silence watching the others, the sun streaming down through the canopy to embrace them in it’s warm rays. Almost as if the very gods were blessing their path forward into this dreary forest filled with death. “So, Strong upper lip huh?” She cast her gaze to Krotos, the blue bird was cuddled around Feku as the bard played some soft notes with a practiced hand on her violin. “You make it sound so bloody simple when you speak of it.”

  Unwrapping a book from her pack Shandalar set it in her lap with a sigh. “It’s easy for elves where I come from to do such things. I often need to maintain this air of calm around my students back home during their studies and tests.” She tapped the opened page several times. “Helps them cope with the stress…of things.” Her face darkened for a moment, her eyes going to the page. The moment passed in the blink of an eye before the calm worked its way back round her face.

  “But-“

  “It’s not different. Even if you don’t feel particularly confident.”

  “Not very paladin like of you miss wizard.” She smirked, a mirrored expression coming to the elf’s own.

  “Do I look like the paladin that has fallen madly in love with our resident dragon? Last time I recalled I didn’t clank when I walk or kissed red scales against my lips.”

  “He does more then just love our dragon.” She giggled, Arcturus’ face looking to them at the sound of his name. She didn’t know if he had heard them, but his face had already started to turn a slight pinkish shade as Veledar tugged him tighter around his scaled chest.

  “Oh, trust me.” The elf waved with a lingering chuckle. “I know they do.” The wizard slowly rose to stand, back straightening as a breeze washed over her and made her brown robes flutter ever so softly against the ground. She casually glanced towards the militia with a stern gaze as Merlia started insulting the militia over their abysmal aim. Even threatening to take their rifles away when they could learn to not waste ammunition.

  “Doesn’t look like she’s being calm or helpful.” She wrinkled her face as Merlia shook an extended finger at an increasingly reddening human. The poor man seemed to shrink before the absolute storm of fury that was before him.

  “I imagine its one way her people handle such things. Smacking things harder and cursing like a half-orcish sailor.” The elf sighed, holding her fingers against the bridge of her nose, as a laugh found its way to her. “Though it could also be that the gryphon drank all her booze and she’s letting it on the poor man.”

  With an echoing chuckle Lyndis pushed herself back to her feet, her limbs groaning and whispering in her ear to stay seated. She stretched out, blinking away her laziness. “Guess we got to get the rest of the day on with then. Undead to focken slay, chin to keep ever so high. Though. Don’t want to have it too high, will end up like our brightness over there.”

  “What’d you say about me?” The dragon snapped to her, his head pulled back into the shape of an S.

  “Nothing your brightness, go back to protectively guarding your mate!”

  “I can certainly do that, but afterword’s we are having a chat about what you said about me.” The dragon snored, flexing his claws around the human that wiggled slightly in his grip. “No Arcturus you can’t leave, I’m not done snuggling against you.” The dragon lowered his snout to nuzzle at brown hair, getting hand wrapped around his snout in return. “See? You’re not ready to leave either.”

  “I’ll…try to be more dragon like I suppose. Bit and regal and all that proudness wrapped up with wings and claws.” She walked with Shandalar until the elf took position with the militia and the red faced Merlia. The dwarf looked to them, face brightening as a smile appeared.

  “Bout time ya got yer fingers dirty! I thought ya were going to be playing wit yer books all day!” The mage paid her no mind, raising her hands and helping the group by felling some skeletons with bolts of cerulean flames.

  Lyndis left them, slinking over to Veledar who had ceased his affectionate nuzzling of his mate.

  “Hello again princess.” The dragon grinned, flicking his tail across the dirt. “Couldn’t stay away I see. I rather understand the attraction.” He swelled up his chest, “Don’t tell me I have to worry about two mortals falling in love with me do I? I would have to tell you I’m greatly flattered at the gesture, but I only have room in my heart for one little soft thing that makes my heart weak.”

  “Hey!” Arcturus protested, tapping the dragon’s scaled forelimb.

  “But you’re a most delightful soft thing. Don’t worry your hair on your head about it.” His eyes rose to hers after another quick nuzzle to his squirming mate. “Whatever can I and my wonderful human do for you?”

  She scrunched up her lips, fighting the giggle in her chest. “Thanks for…being you.” She punched his scales, already hating herself for sounding so corny. Even Veledar seemed to raise a brow at her statement before returning his sight to those around them with a chuckle.

  “Of course, I’m always me. Whatever should I be otherwise? Perhaps a fairy? Maybe one of those dog creatures? Oh, wait I know I could be a gryphon with the fluffiest of feathers!”

  “Or perhaps you can be a horse.” Arcturus laughed, earning a glare from his dragon and bump of nose against his hair.

  “You’re done human. And stop your little teasing. I can tease right back.”

  “No not..Ugh.” She sighed, leaning up against his scales. She felt the warmth radiate from them through her clothes. Like a dying fire that still provided it’s heat to those in need. “Not what I meant dragon.” She looked down to his grime covered scales, the red now dulled and smeared with layers of thick grime of sickly green and brown “Next time we’re in town, remind me to help clean your scales. Our protector shouldn’t be so…filthy.

  “Oh, you will have to wait in line I’m afraid my dearest rogue. For you see my paladin here has already beaten you to the punch. He has already offered to bathe me with those little soap things and make my scales shine like the sun.” Veledar closed his eyes as his maw parted wide for a large smile. His frills twitched happily on either side of his face. “Always welcome to stick around for what happens after” The dragon’s smile shifted to a lewd smirk, his tongue licking his lips. “Or during.”

  “Hey!” Arcturus pushed the red’s nosing snout.

  “What? She would have guessed anyway! I don’t know if you have noticed this Arcturus, but our affections are hardly a secret to our friends. I was simply warning the girl.”

  “You weren’t warning her you were inviting her!”

  “Well…” The dragon licked the man’s face, earning him a glare. “I don’t think you’d mind very much.”

  “Pfff.” She elbowed the dragon, “Ever so full of yourself, aren’t you? Think I’d want to stick around for that?”

  “Who wouldn’t want a chance to engage in carnal acts with one such as myself?”

  She rolled her eyes at the idea. While not entirely displeasing she didn’t want him to know that. “You’re just as bad as the bleedin gryphon at times. Are you sure you don’t have blue feathers and a lion like tail?”

  Veledar’s tail thumped behind her as if to answer her reply. “No. Clearly a dragon Lyndis. Perhaps you should eat better things to strengthen your eyes. Otherwise I might question why we need a near blind rogue in our little adventuring party of misfits.” He rose a scaly ridge, eyes casting her an inquisitive look. “Though let’s say I did have those things…I would be better than our other gryphon right?” The dragon’s snout drifted to Krotos, who was busy preening his feathers to no end. Feku was helping him with a comb she had and was running through his fur.

  “God’s is that all your care about? She scolded herself for thinking he wouldn’t think that. “Of course, you’d still be better.

  The dragon trilled, several happy tail smacks her reward, his eyes brimming with joy. “See?” He offered his human a tender lick. “You are all learning what to say around me. Becoming the perfect little minions.”

  “Don’t push the luck red boy,” She scratched his chin when he dipped his snout to her. “But you’ve definitely warmed up to us. Can’t think of this group without you, now can I?”

  “I certainly hope not.” The dragon purred, “I am rather irreplaceable.”

  “I do know two other dragons that can fill the part. They also have resplendent scales we can call upon to help us.”

  His gaze hardened, before he pulled his head away with a snort. “And you go and ruin the moment. Leave it up to you of course.” He rose his head, snorting as he returned his diligent watch over the group. “Red is a much better color than green anyway.” He grumbled.

  With the rest of theirs done, they quickly packed up their things, and checked ammunition. They would have tended to the wounded as well. But despite the insults and claims that the militia had bad aim, none of them had been wounded in their defense. At most one man had a bloody nose from tripping and smashing face first into the dirt but that had been it. Lyndis had eyed Asteiron’s smirk of pride as he scanned the worn faces of the rifle totting people.

  They pressed on through the forest, cutting down any lingering undead like wheat. They seemed to constantly arrive in small trickles, one or two always within view in the distance. The worried sounds of her people echoed the undead’s numbers, but she remembered Shandalar’s words and held her head high. The carts rolled over scattered limbs and soaked their wheels in blood. She couldn’t resist her adventurer instincts, looting each body that they felled when they got a moment of breathing room. Which with their sparse numbers and the ferocious dragon was rather easy. There wasn’t much to write about, but she did stash some square shaped gold coins to toss into her pack with an undamaged healing potion or two. She had felt bad for that one in particular as she cut the rope that had bound the glass bottle. For the man had died with a way to save his life if only he had been fast enough to gulp the red liquid swishing around inside. She eyed the man’s half eaten face, eye hanging out sickly and caked with dirt and dried blood. She had offered him quick thanks, bowing her head before returning to her friends.

  The day continued with the same pace as before. Even when Arcturus gave the order to continue or hold the townsfolk listened. His dragon didn’t even need to echo his command with a roar. The man’s continued efforts to help them being all they needed to not cast glares or flames in his direction each time he walked by.

  The sun began to head towards the horizon as the hours started to grow thin, the golden rays taking on a more red-orange color and making their pace quicken. They made sure to slay each undead along the path, though some that would appear in the distance behind them Shandalar told them to ignore. If they wanted to make it to the Roselake by nightfall they could not afford to keep delaying themselves with stabbing swords. She bit her lip and held her head up as she sneaked glances to the vanishing sun and could feel the dread snatch at her as she remembered the banshee. She wondered briefly it that was all that awaited them during the dead of the night.

  Her fears were validated when they came to a hurdle that brought stop to their caravan. Along the winding path were strewn rows upon rows of fallen trees and splintered wood. They had trunks the size of Veledar’s chest and appeared to have been hacked away by mortal hands. There were clean cuts going right through the wood. She had gripped the reins tightly as her wolf paced back and forth along the blockage. Whomever had done this had most likely done it to slow someone’s advance. Though if it was for the undead, orcs, themselves, or some other foe they had not seen she wasn’t certain. She closed her eyes and fought the unease rising in her chest. Words of doubt trying to shake her resolve more than once as her wolf’s paws steadily brought her along the wood. She knocked the rough bark with her knuckles, a dull thud her reward. It felt sturdy, not rotten away at all. How they were going to accomplish moving such things when they were already pressed for time nagged at her thoughts. She rested her palm on the pale green lichen covered surface, eyes drifting to the sun that had already begun to dwindle across the land. She sighed as Veledar reared up, placing his forelimbs on the bark and pushing with a snarl and thrash of his tail. His claws dug up dirt as he struggled to reposition and push harder. The dragon got a creek for his effort, but little else as he pushed himself off, falling to all fours with a snort.

  “What are these things made from? Rocks?” His eyes narrowed as he glared at the trees with flicking frills.

  “Wood I would hope.” She laughed nervously as Veledar rolled her eyes.

  “I was being rhetorical Lyndis. I didn’t actually think. -“

  “Oh, I knew.” She patted his scales, his harsh snort making her chuckle as the breath swirled around her and prickled at her skin.

  “I got a fix fer dat if yer havin problems preformin!” Merlia winked, calling over her shoulder, knocking an arrow onto her bow as Krotos padded over. “Really puts a kick ta ya strength!”

  “Or I could lift the section of trees with a reverse gravity spell.” Shandalar folded her arms, “Although that would be using my strongest spell slot to accomplish such a task. It would be best to get around this with using the least strongest spells able.

  The town’s worried voices crept along the air as her friends continued to offer suggestions on how to proceed. She thought she even heard mention of floating the carts over the trees. Trickery or guile wasn’t going to get them out of this.

  “I rather like the enhance strength idea.” Arcturus finally exclaimed as an idea came out of Veledar flying with some carts of the trees. “It’s a rather simple idea and seems to be the most practical.” He waved his hand with a dismissive chuckle. “Especially after that idea.” He patted the grinning dragon’s scales, rubbing the smooth armor in a circular fashion. “We could always enlarge him as well, double our wager on his strength to see us through this endeavor. How does that sound?”

  There was a murmur of agreement from the others and a series of nods. Only Veledar seemed to not be fully on board with the idea. The dragon unleashed a strained sigh, placing a foreclaw on the bark and scratching deep lines with his talons. “I suppose its my job for the menial labor for you.” He snorted, flicking his tail and staring daggers at the trees.

  “Yea, but it’s the most tactical option for us mate.” Arcturus patted the dragon’s neck. Earning him a pleased rumble from his throat.

  “Of course, lets you save the stronger spells for when we really need them?” He rose a scaly ridge, tilting his head to the side.

  “You’re rubbing off on him Arcturus, he almost sounds bloody tactical.” She laughed, her sounds making the dragon snap to her with an almost hurt expression in his cerulean eyes. It only lasted a minute before he curled a talon at Shandalar.

  “Bigger swarm coming in!” A militiaman called from behind, his voice was cracking as the human’s color drained from his face.

  “Well pull the wagons close! Give us as much room between them and the dragon!” Arcturus shouted, dismounting and grabbing the others to help reinforce the worried townsfolk. They bounded towards the carts as they were quickly moved into position to shield them from the shambling horrors dragging their rotted limbs from the trees. Lyndis shivered as she turned away, never quite sure she would get used to looking at their darkened glossy eyes. Ones that looked to trap all light and beg to drain the life from everything else.

  Shandalar pressed a hand gently to the dragon’s scales, a sigil in the shape of a yellow triangle appearing on his scales and flickering to life like a firefly on a dark night. Veledar shivered as the thin strands traveled all around him, dancing and swirling with little sparks all around his scales. There was a brief gust of wind as the dragon began to slowly grow, and Lyndis was forced to take a step back. When he was finished growing towards the treetops he was twice his usual height and length, a gleaming grin being cast down to her. She had to admit in this light and with his size, he did look rather regal. Perhaps a sneak preview to when he was older, and they were long gone. Veledar the wise and powerful red dragon.

  “Can’t help but admire my greatness?” He snaked his head downward, giving her a snort.

  “Mind to task our brightness. We still got the sodding trees for you to move.” She connected two fingertips together and focused on the enhance spell. White magic started to flow from her flesh, dripping down as if a liquid and kissing her skin like a gentle breeze. She pulled them apart, the energy flowing with her to drip to the ground before she placed them on his scales. The dragon’s eyelids fluttered as his muscles tensed up, his sharpened talons easily gliding through the dirt and ripping up whole sections like shovels. “Now clear us a path you scaled bastard!” Excitement welled in her chest as he rose his head, fire in his eyes punctuated by a final lingering snort. He reared up onto his hinds, gripping the bark with his large claws, his talons ripping into the wood. He flicked his tail, letting out a snarl and flung the giant tree as if it were weightless. It let out a thunderous crash of rustling leaves as it came to a rest on the forest floor.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Hah!” She cheered as Veledar roared his victory, throwing tree after tree as the sounds of combat only got louder. Moans of zombies cut off by the sounds of rifle fire. Sword clanging against steel as defenders shouted their worry and concern.

  “Come on mortals! Your dragon overlord has made you a path!” The dragon bellowed in triumph, quickly bounding to the zombies. As they started to pull away with speed he opened his maw and unleashed a giant gout of fiery death onto their undead attackers. The red-orange flames disintegrating mangled flesh and casting their ash to the wind. She had to shield her face as the intense heat even reached her on her mount. In that moment she was glad he was on their side of all things.

  “Pull back!” Arcturus gave the order as undead faltered and crumbled around them. Slicing down those that had not been caught in the brilliant flames that lit up the dwindling light. He cut down several more with his white blade, Lyndis’ mount bounding over to him, so she could stab at two that had emerged from the flames unscathed. She sliced one’s head clean from it’s shoulders, with a sliich and sickening plop. The other she flung flames from her fingertips, the orb of fire striking the rotted fleshy head of a diseased looking elf. The ball exploded on impact and melted away the black eyed creature’s face. It groaned in discomfort as it stumbled, losing its weapons before flopping onto the ground in a motionless heap.

  With a few more shots and roar from the dragon, the wolves and carts were soon speeding along the path with dull thumps of wheels hitting the corpse that littered the ground. Lyndis could feel combat’s rush slowly dying away with each steady beat of her wolf’s paws upon the ground. She stole a glance over her shoulder of what they had left behind, spotting slow moving zombies left behind in their wake. She smiled as no casualties had been reported, a cheer going through the cart bound people as Veledar bound proudly to the front with his human riding on his back. It was with her next breath she spotted more rotted figure’s further along the path, merely little dots in her vision. She sighed, pulling her rapier with a hiss. It looked as thought there would be no reprieve for them.

  “Hey Asterion!” Merlia gleefully shouted, thrusting a finger to the oncoming dots. “I’m up to fourty seven!”

  The warrior snorted his reply, clutching at his hammer tight as they advanced on the encroaching undead.

  *

  “Yes, I can bloody see them Krotos you can quit your incessant naggin!” Lyndis hissed, hugging the navy and grey gryphon tightly as he flapped his wings steadily to keep them aloft in the night sky. She held out her spyglass out to gaze down to the darkened greens of the field below, right where the forest ended. The path led to a bridge made of stone that passed over a rushing river that reflected the twinkling stars and crescent moon above. She shivered as a breeze ruffled her grey cloak and green sash, making her hug the gryphon between her legs for warmth. It looked simple enough to get to Roselake. Follow the winding road over the bridge and towards the walled town with towers. One that looked to be more of a fortress than anything else. Especially with the undead roaming around it was heart warming to see thin lights from the towers, and signs that humanoids were walking the walls. Although the reason she was up here on the gryphon was another matter of concern. For what prevented them from simply riding along without a care was the hundreds of tiny dots that littered the ground. Tiny blackened spots of undead of all sizes and shapes. She saw skeletons with all different weapons standing erect in the night wind, unmoving like offwhite statues. Zombies shambled about in disorder, moaning and groaning as they dragged weapons through the dirt. Towering over those were trolls with rotted dripping skin, sporting large elongated claws that could slice right through a man’s flesh like nothing. If that wasn’t enough there were zombified ogres, some twitching pointy eared ghasts hiding around for good measure. Lyndis shivered as she watched them scan their heads around looking for prey, knowing that they could freeze a man or woman with a mere touch of their grubby hands.

  She sighed, letting the wing beats of her friend calm the racing of her heart and trembling of her hands as she tried counting their numbers or predicting their movements. It looked like this horde had dined on all of the denizens of Drenedar’s hills. Although she raised a brow as she noticed not a single siigonis head could be found among their number.

  “There’s so…many.” Krotos’ voice came in but a whisper as she felt him tremble beneath her. She eyed the numerous tents scattered around with the dead. They surrounded campfires that lit up the area with their warm glowing beacons.

  “Necromancers.” She hissed, picturing the usual flesh clad spellcasters. The wizards who had specialized in the dark craft of unholy magic such as this. Course they had to have those folks about. Otherwise this army of unholy death would wander aimlessly like the forest looking for targets to devour. When they had the spellcasters though? That’s when the undead could get really dangerous, move in formations, use tactics, lay ambushes. “There’s only twenty tents.”

  “What are you going on about tents for? Don’t you see the literal army below us woman? Can we return before they send flying monsters out to munch on my feathers?”

  “Bravery does you wonders gryphon.” She chuckled, rubbing his neck with her hand through the coarse fur. “Perhaps next time I should have taken the dragon?” When she felt his feathers fluff and a groan escape his beak she knew that had him.

  “And have you get spotted almost immediately? I am better at this than the dragon.”

  “Then please keep your bravery for a moment or two longer. I must finish figuring out what to do. What to exploit…Besides. You don’t find it odd that they have an army ten times the usual size?”

  “I don’t know the ins and outs of undead woman!”

  “Well, typically there is only a certain number of undead that one caster can control. So, if they have so few down there that must mean their power isn’t focused into their minions. I bet those skeletons and zombies crumble away to almost nothing. Something we could exploit.”

  “What if they are really powerful and can simply control that many? Did you think of that?”

  She frowned, not rather liking the idea of several powerful spellcasters rivaling Shandalar. “That…would be extremely problematic. Course we could always go ask them.”

  “I’m not flying anywhere near that mess down there! Has the altitude done something to your mind? Are you mad?”

  “Just a joke scared bird…. And why are you concerned anyway? Nothing up here to bother us.” She glanced up to the perfect sky. No cloud to cast down a shadow, nothing to hide the bright moon or sparkling stars.

  “They have flying undead as well princess. Don’t put it passed them to not have some.” Krotos tilted his beak round to cast her an intense stare. She could see the fear in his darkened pools, and it brought a wave of guilt into her heart. The gryphon did have a point after all. She placed a finger to her chin, folding up her spyglass and stowing it in her pack. She could already feel his relief radiating from his fur before she spoke.

  “Can you take us back to the others? I think we got enough of their numbers and positions for a plan.”

  “Positions? You don’t even got any parchment to write on!”

  “Up here featherhead.” She tapped her temple several times, “You got to learn how to memorize those sorts of things. Really helps.”

  “Some of us lack that particular ability.” Krotos flapped his wings, carrying them forwards before he turned around and set course for the gnarled trees below. He flicked his tail as the cold wind flowed around them and brushed their hair and fur. He banked slightly to the left, slowly starting his descent towards a larger tree that had knots up its trunk. Ones that made the thing look as though it had large eyes. Like some sort of terrifying creature with spiraling limbs in all directions. That horrible eyesore was where her friends were hiding, shielded by a spell cast by Merlia.

  Krotos carried them towards the tree, silently as he prepared for landing and extended his hinds. He flared his wings out and landed with a bumpy trot, one that left her things jingling as they finally came to a stop. She lept off of him the moment she spotted the outline of Veledar and the groups of townsfolk among him.

  “How does it look?” Arcturus asked the moment she got close enough and everyone suddenly seemed to pop right out of thin air. She knew the spell had either run out or she had entered it.

  “They got enough actually.” She sighed, gazing into his green eyes. Glad to see that they didn’t waver with the bad news. “Hundreds of them spread out in formations between us and Roselake. Skeletons, zombies, trolls, and a whole bunch of other focken things straight out of my nightmares.”

  “Maybe your nightmares lass. Mine are filled with spiders with beady little eyes! Perhaps we can ride down dere, smash our way through den. Show em what we can do after all this time!” The ranger rubber her shoulder with a grin. “Really cut loose.” The dwarf gave a tooth filled grin that gleamed in the moonlight. “Undead be nothin anyway.”

  “Love the enthusiasm, but perhaps we should have a better plan then “Toss ourselves at the enemy in a suicidal charge.”

  “You ruin everything! I bet ya want us ta skit da whole lot of them.”

  “Actually.” Lyndis gestured to the left, a series of rocks growing from the ground like weeds in the distance. “I spied a path that could lead us to the town, though to cross the river we might have to abandon the carts…And it’s littered with rocks, trees, and areas you can hide quite the number of folks.”

  The human paced, rubbing his gloves hand against his chin. “And if they got forces in there we might as well be walking into a trap.”

  “Surely you’re safe with me to watch over all of you. These undead are very flammable.” The dragon smiled, his limbs kneading the ground as he got more comfortable.

  “Yes, my lovely dragon.” The human scratched the dragon’s chin, getting a slight tremor of movement from the red’s tail. “But you can’t be everywhere…And they could come at us from all sides.”

  Damn.. Lyndis scowled as she glared out to the dark horizon, letting her friends offer idea after idea on what to do. “How about we sneak on by?”

  “See I knew it!-“ Merlia laughed.

  Lyndis waved to dismiss her, pointing to the tiny dots in the distance. “We could use the dragon, our lewd gryphon, and Shandalar’s carpet. We take trips with the cover of the night and use Merlia to camouflage us against the stars.” She smirked, folding her arms and spinning around to face her friends. “Then we can be in Roselake in no time at all. Probably all tired out and enjoying a frothy pint to ease the mind.”

  “That…” Shandalar blinked, a smile coming to her usually stern face. “Is actually good idea, I rather like it.”

  “And what happens to me and my people that arnt getting ferried to safety?” Navarra tilted her neck to the others. “We just sit around and wait, hoping this undead army yours doesn’t find out about us?”

  “I could always stay with you on the ground. Shield the rest of you with my illusions. Just like we done each night previous. It will last plenty of time for my companions to get your people to safety.”

  The townswoman gazed back to all her people, the worry lingering in her eyes as she shifted from person to person. “The carts are just carts…The people are what matters.” She mumbled, taking a deep breath. Iit sounds like a good idea.”

  “Besides human. We can be there this very evening. I can be curled up round a fire, and finally get this grime from my scales. You on the other hand can go about getting a feast created in my-“ The dragon’s head snapped to Lyndis as she cleared her throat. “Ah yes..Our honor.” He snorted, happily tapping his claw.

  “I’ll…” The woman’s words paused as she glanced to Veledar with a small smile. Lyndis could see the dwindling fire of hope still lingering in her eyes. “See what we can do our brightness.”

  The plan was quickly spread to the gathered people as Lyndis and Asterion grabbed hold of the dull purple carpet that had flown them to the town of Bromwhich. They rolled it out with haste, setting it softly onto the long grass with a whoosh. The others were helping stow weapons and doing checks to make sure who would go first. It was agreed upon that the first trip should have most if not all the children. Best to get them out of harm’s way first.

  Lyndis eyed the young humans and wolven as they stood nervously at the edge of the carpet, their legs trembling and shifting their weight at the prospect of a stressful journey done. Lyndis held out her hand with a warm smile, watching the children’s faces light up as a young wolven girl with brown fur took her hand. Almost if on cue, a sudden scream pierced through the night like a knife. Lyndis’ ears twitched as she zeroed in on the dreadful, blood freezing sound. She spun her head to see that a man had fallen over by his cart, his skin turning to the color of ash as he thrashed and bellowed his pain, his face scrunched up and clenched.

  She almost went to the man’s side until she noticed that something had wrapped itself around his waist and legs. Black as midnight tendrils had risen from the ground and swallowed light as if it were water. “What the bloody hell is that?” She shouted, the hairs on the back of her head standing on end as she pulled out her rapier and screams echoed the first as people scampered away in a panic.

  From the screaming man rose tall slender shadow, like a cloak it wrapped itself around the twitching man. She got a glimpse of two burning red eyes before it fully enveloped the man.

  She went to stab but froze as the black crumpled mass of man gave a muffled cry. Her muscles begged to plunge down and try to ward off this creature while her brain screamed to stop. If she struck now she would only hurt the man trapped within, but if she did nothing he would die. Through this moment a third option took precedence in her mind. She held up her left hand, pelting the thing with flashes of fire. Each one detonating with a red-orange flash that almost made her wince her eyes at the brightness.

  “Dere’s two of em!” Merlia’s cry cemented the ice that was trickling down her spine.

  “Torches! Torches! We need light to fend off these monsters!” Asterion bellowed, tossing a beam of white light from his fingers that struck the blackened thing. The creature if you could call it such, reared up from the man, exposing his lifeless body with blackened eyes. Like glossy marbles now rested in his sockets. His skin was sickly and pale, as though all color had been ripped from him by this unholy being of shadow. As his frame twisted and shook in the light she saw that sections of his limbs had been twisted to odd angles or curled in on itself, as red eyes sprouted from his skin.

  It felt like a hand squeezed her heart as she avoided a thrashing black tendril as an inhuman scream sounded through the night. The blackened sections of the dead man’s skin started to rise off him like little mountains, carrying the red eyes with them. It just hadn’t killed him, it was turning his corpse into more of those things.

  “Another one!” Arcturus cried out, dragon fire following his words and setting underbrush and other leaves aflame. There was a flash of white light that burst through the air, the human’s sword having joined his mate’s attack.

  Lyndis stabbed into the shadow with her gleaming rapier, the magical blade striking into the black twisted thing that coiled around the dead man like a scorpion’s tail. When she struck it, there was no weight to her strike. It was as if the thing was made of nothing but pure shadow. From the impact point came little white splinters that broke and segmented, spreading out onto the shadow like small rivers of light. The creature hissed, curling around her blade and heading to snare her wrist. She acted on instinct, Without another thought her other hand flew to her headband as intense cold grabbed at her arm like a snare. She resisted screaming at it felt like a winter’s storm had swallowed her up inside, draining all the warmth from her heart.

  “Not bloody today.” She grunted, spreading her fingers, thinking to the magical sun engraved item on her head. Four beams of red-orange light sprung from her fingertips like water. Shooting out like a geyser to bathe the shadow in flames. Where it had struck started to burn away, small embers flying up from the shadow’s form like a parchment set before a flame. The creature retracted its tendril as flames burned away it’s limb, swallowing the monster in flickering lights. She watched it collapse to the ground, turning to a pile of darkened grey ash as warmth spread back to her fingertips. “Not today.” She gasped, swallowing down the dread as her heart felt like a stampeding herd of horses.

  The body!

  She spun around to see that Asterion had taken the responsibility in her inaction. With a flash of white golden light the cleric had brought his hammer down on the transforming man’s wiggling torso. The impact let loose a dull thud before the growing creatures all screeched and hissed that made her clench at her ears. The black shadows stared to splinter away, bursting after a moment into thousands of tiny lights. “Looks like ya had it handled.”

  “Easy opponent.” The bull snorted, heaving his mace up onto his shoulder as they turned to the others.

  Arcturus and Shandalar had cut down one with flames and holy magic. Their spells filling the air with the hiss of fire and radiant light of his magical blade. Veledar stood triumphant over two as they burned away into nothing but ash before his gleaming teeth. Krotos was pressed up against the grinning red, all his feathers on end, his eyes widened in surprise and brimming with fear. Merlia was the last one to bring her axes home, cutting the last twisted shadow down before it could scurry on away.

  “Come on ya bastards! Ya heard da furry bull! Get yer lights lit, before we got more of dem crawlin up our arses!” Merlia shouted, stowing her axes with a nod.

  Like a fire had been lit under them, the gathered people brought life to unlit torches, spreading a warm glow around the gathered people and ruining any chance of them staying hidden. Those that didn’t have a torch fashioned them out of sticks, smallish logs, or even bottles with rags inside of them. Anything to ward off more of those wicked creatures.

  The others padded over, stowing weapons and eying the dancing torchlight.

  “Good.” Asterion snorted, “Those creatures thrive on darkness. If we can deny them it with light they will be unable to approach.

  “Here dat?” The dwarf thumbed at the cleric. “Keep dem torches lit and we be safe from those beadie eyed bastards!” Her words did little to quell the swarm of terrified voices being thrown back and forth by the townsfolk that looked moments from dropping everything and sprinting away in fright.

  “Keep da torches out and shining bright! The bleedin things can’t approach the light!” Scared eyes darted to her, then back to the calmness of her friends. She whirled around to Arcturus and the others as they gathered close. “Well focken looks like our plan to sneak passed them isn’t going to work.”

  “We can at least get the children the elderly to safety.” Arcturus pointed to the carpet, his eyes gazing to the town. “Feku can fly it high above the ground, we can give them a clear shot towards Roselake.

  “What will that do? They will get swarmed with flying monsters straight outta the nine hells!” Nivarra shot a hand out to point at the undead camp. Torches had sprung to life there as well as the little dots started to move and reposition themselves. “Looks like the bloody creatures know we’re here now! Looks like they could see through these things eyes! See how they stir and wake? In seconds they will be upon us. We must flee!”

  “That won’t work. They will hunt us down separately.” Shandalar folded her arms, cool eyes staring into the hive of hornets they had stirred. “Whatever we should do. It should be together and run on the assumption they can still see us.”

  She hadn’t thought of that. Lyndis turned her head, eyes darting to every darkened bush, or twisted tree that she could find. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine one of those shadow creatures still lurking in the night, watching and waiting for someone to slip up and wrap a tendril around an unexpecting limb. The night breeze brought with it a chill that had never felt colder as she scanned for more of those burning red eyes. Part of her mind whispered to her that the creatures could even be hiding under carts, waiting for the right moment to pounce. “So, what do we do now? Go charging into them like a battering ram?”

  “I like dat plan! Punch a hole straight through their lines!” Merlia clasped her hands together. “Lets me continue my lead on the bull!”

  “I thought that plan was suicide?” Lyndis raised a brow, casting the dwarf a tired look before shifting her sight to the undead horde in the distance. She turned away for a moment as her friends squabbled on how to proceed with the next few minutes. How best to risk the lives of her people. She recalled what she had seen earlier, how they formed and moved in the night air. There was a hole they could exploit if enough pressure was applied. One that a team of carts pulled by wolves and backed up by a dragon could pull off. They wouldn’t need to stay and fight, they would just need spells and fire to clear a path for the stampeding carts. Weapons to fend off any that got to the cart, and perhaps an arrow or two to stop any pesky necromancer’s from baring the path. She sighed as Veledar crept next to her, his warmth casting away the night chill with a small clink of his scales. She set a hand to his shoulder, his smooth scales ignighting the flames within her heart and casting away the cold.

  “I have an idea!” She tapped the dragon excitedly, causing his head to curl down at her with a raised scaly ridge. “Arcturus!” She snapped her head around to her friends, whose conversation and squawking had suddenly ceased as all eyes trained on her. There was a momentary pause as her heart skipped a beat, and warmth found it’s way to her cheeks.

  “Well spit it out lass! Ya got me on the edge of me seat!”

  She took a calming breath, patting Veledar’s snout. “We got to punch a hole in their lines. I know it sounds like that plan we just laughed at but hear me out.” She pointed up towards the twinkling lights above. “When I was up there with Krotos I saw their formations, and how they move. They leave an area down the middle less populated than the rest. I think if we take the team of carts and drive right for it in a straight line we can make our way through. We just have to use the spells at the front to clear the path, and Crimson’s fire to burn any that doesn’t clear.” She nodded to Arcturus, then gesturing to the children. “We do as we said with the children and elderly. We will be the reason they don’t send fliers after them. We will be the brightest torch for them to squash out.” She crossed her arms, heart pounding in her chest so loudly she thought anyone close would be able to hear it.

  “That’s…” Arcturus smiled, giving her a nod. “A good plan. Not exactly a complicated one, but one that might work. Certainly, a better one than what was presented.” The human cupped his chin, letting out a heavy sigh. “Though if they have spell casters to contend with it only takes one to impede our progress. Then we would find ourselves surrounded and overrun.”

  “That’s why we use Shandalar and Asterion at the front of the pack. Use our strongest spell casters to clear the path.” She snapped back.

  “And I can watch out for any of dere fancy pajama wearin finger twiddlers!” Merlia rubbed her thumb against her leather armor. “Give em a present or three from me quiver. Can even cast fae fire on any groups we want eliminated. Dat way our fancy dragon can burn em up faster than a fledgling gryphon during his first rut!”

  The other’s sighed as Merlia crossed her arms, her face twisting as she glared at everyone with a red face. “What? It’s true!”

  “Besides..the rutting gryphon image.” She chuckled, holding up her palm to silence any protests from the fidgeting dwarf. “What do you guys think of the plan?” She glanced to all her companions in turn, not seeing much disagreement lingering in their eyes. “I’m not a tactician on the battlefield.” She gestured to the undead horde with her neck. “But I can spot weakness when I see them. They might be able to weather an attack from a force wanting to stay and fight, but not one that is simply using their magic to get through. And I figure all that’s down there is basic undead expect for some lone strong ones. You don’t have that many bags of bones down there with so little necromancers without sacrificing something.” She shrugged, holding her palms out.

  “If it works like any other concentration spell that is how it works.” Shandalar bobbed her head in agreement. “I sadly know little about necromancy…It is a rather twisted way of spellcraft.”

  “Everyone else?”

  Her heart fluttered in her chest as everyone nodded and accepted her plan as the one they would go with. She watched her people prepare the carts as the ranks of undead started to slowly advance over the field of green towards them. No complaints or whining could be heard, no chattering of doom and gloom as they worked to prepare makeshift barricades on the wooden carts. They appeared to truly be makeshift soldiers, with iron hearts and ready for whatever horrors the night would throw at them next. She even saw one man in uneven leathers thank Arcturus and off a crisp salute as they stacked boxes and wood to the edges of their carts. They were going to use those as protection against any stabs of weapons or loosed arrows in their direction. The children were escorted by Feku onto the magical carpet with a pleasing tune. The kolbold had protested when she was told to go with the children. She had stomped her claws, saying she was a pirate now and could help in plenty of ways. She had growled when Asterion patted her on the shoulder and bid her luck, saying he wished for her to live, and that this path was a most dangerous one. The fire in her eyes had faded with a quick sniff, hugging the bull before taking a spot front and center of all the scared children.

  Lyndis inspected the others as she padded around the well-lit area, watching clouds form above and wisp asway with the breeze. She shivered as she passed Arcturus telling the red dragon that he would be on a cart, his presence more important than being with his mate. The red dragon looked positively annoyed with a risen head and flicking tail as he eyed the mortal with daggers and apologies were streaming from the man’s mouth. The dragon dipped his head, wrapping a claw around the human and pulled him close into an affectionate nuzzle, wishing him safety for the road ahead.

  She sighed, caressing the green scale round her neck, rubbing the small thing as she wondered what her dragon would say right now with her choice. She chuckled as he would probably walk by her, his scarf fluttering in the wind as he swore to watch over her despite the protests. He would curl his neck back to her, his bright golden eyes giving her pause before begging him to stay.

  Asterion strode passed her with a simple huff, pulling himself up onto the lead card and taking a position right beside Shandalar. The cleric lifted his makeshift shield from Feku, testing the weight in his hand as his hammer was gripped tight in the other. Merlia was behind them on the second cart, laughing away with townsfolk about some story no doubt containing gryphons and other lewd things that always seemed to burst out of her. The rogue rolled her eyes as she heard mention of the bet between the bull and the dwarf, something about him pulling ahead during the forest but she was looking to score the victory through the field. The half-elf set her eyes lastly to Krotos, who was fidgeting as his eyes looked to the magic carpet. He sat on his haunches, tail curled around his hinds as it twitched like he was lost in a sea of his thoughts.

  “What’s on your mind blue bird?” She said softly, slinking over and leaned up against a cart.

  “You have me away from all of you…In this time of need…You have me watching a group of children in the sky.” His ears flicked, nearly pinning back against his head as his talons shook.

  She rose a brow, watching the irritation brewing under the surface of his navy fur. “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to avoid the undead at any cost? This position focken puts you as far from those blighters as possible!”

  Krotos ruffled his feathers with an angry chirp, flashing her an intense stare as his tail thrashed the grass. “Just cause those monsters out there makes my feathers tremble doesn’t mean I enjoy leaving my companions down there to face hell itself while I fly safely along high in the sky.” He looked away at the moon, his beak half parting and a heavy sigh finding its way out.

  “Oh Krotos.” She pushed herself off the cart, wrapping an arm around the warm gryphon as she sat beside him. When he turned to her she brushed the side of his face with the other. “You have the heart of a warrior sometimes.” She leaned forward, locking eyes with him as the wind played with her hair. “But you will be helping us. We have you guarding the most precious of cargo. I don’t want to risk them at all, and I’d have you down with us if I were one hundred precent certain they would leave them be.” She placed a finger to his beak, then to the camp of undeath in the distance. “It only takes one to swoop in and start cutting into them, and I’m focken certain those things lack any morality to stay their claws when it comes to children…So yes..I have you up there to protect them.” She patted the gryphon’s head as he leaned into her chest with a small trill that rumbled its way passed her fingers.

  “You say the best things sometimes.” His voice, hardly a sound beneath the hooting in the distance.

  “I’ll take what compliments I can get from you that aren’t dripping with lewdness.” She smirked, his chuckle making her giggle. “Now…Think you can protect the young ones for us gryphon? Or should I get someone else better suited…Perhaps the dragon? Or maybe Merlia if we gave her fake wings and painted her blue?”

  “Hey!” He chirped, pulling his head back with splayed ears. “No one could replace my help. I’m the only gryphon you got!”

  “Oh, I know.” She smiled, “So what do you say?”

  “I can do this for you Lyndis.” He closed his eyes and wrapped her up tight in his feathery wings. “I just want the rest of you to be safe down there…I don’t want to lose any more friends.”

  “Don’t worry.” Her calming voice for his benefit as well as her own. “We will be Krotos. You can count your fluffy tail on it.” She gazed back behind his furry head to spy a line of galloping skeletal wolves draped in dark clothes outlined with skulls. They were far in the distance, stampeding towards them with undead riders with weapons held tightly within unholy claws. She sighed, patting the nervous gryph and standing tall. “Looks like we’re out of focken time.”

  “Load up!’ Arcturus shouted in a brassy, commanding voice. “Line up the carts, grab your weapons, and mind your companions. This will be a long hour, so let’s see this through. And god’s willing we shall see each other on the side.”

  “Who needs the gods when you have me?” Veledar grinned, letting out a playful growl as cheers echoed in the night.

  Quick as a flash they formed a line of carts with two or three wolves on either side. Their riders had spears, swords, and rounded shields held within their grasp. Nervous hands gripped the leather reins as their grey furred canines bounded across the grass towards the unholy monsters barrowing towards them with empty sockets, and pale sickly bone that seemed to glow in the moon’s light. Lyndis ran her hands along the barrel of a rifle that a villager had thrust into her hands. She was familiar with the weapon, even if it wasn’t favorite thing to us. Too loud, and blustery for her purposes. Spells were more powerful, and her sword was more accurate than what ever fury this thing could belch, but it had range and that’s what they needed in this moment. With the cold steel barrel held up close to her eye, she followed one skeletal rider clutching at his dead mount’s reins in a vice like grip. Almost as if they were connected by a twisted tether.

  Probably are

  She growled, pulling the trigger as Merlia shouted out the command to fire. Thunder sounded from the carts as balls of metal hurled through the air towards their targets. Most went wide, missing completely or impacting the ground with a brief shower of dirt. Those that did strike the riders, shattered bones, splintered claws, some where even torn from their mounts and crashed to the ground and scattered to bits.

  “Reload!” The order sounded through the night as nervous hands grabbed bullets, and arrows were knocked. Lyndis found herself more capable than most as the smoky scent of dragonfire powder lingered over her hands. The riders were hit next by Veledar. The dragon swooped down like a fiery angel, unleashing a stream of intense red-orange flames that consumed at least twenty of the bastards as he passed in one glorious motion that left the night ablaze. The skeletons and their mounts crumbled away as fire licked at their bones and destroyed whatever magic was keeping them together. Any humanoid rider might have been concerned that most of their number had been utterly wiped out, but not these creatures. They carried on with the next pounding of their mounts skeletal limbs against the ground.

  “Let them have it!” Merlia screamed, shots sounding off like a stampeding herd as smoke rose above every raised rifle. Bullets and arrows crashed into skeletal heads, breaking apart the last of their number. “Dats how ya do it ya boney bastards!” The dwarf cheered, echoed by joyous cries of the townsfolk. It almost brought the fact they had to charge at their gathered ranks from her mind.

  At least we held off their advance scouts.

  She quickly placed her rifle with the stock on the ground, loading the rifle with dragonfire powder and the next ball of lead. She pressed it down with a metal rod, priming the weapon for later use. She gazed out to the dark blocks of infantry looming out before them, this was after all just the beginning. She stared up to find the carpet soaring overhead, a dark shape almost hidden completely by the black of night. It looked like a tiny dot, with the dark shape of Krotos swooping around it like a watchful hawk. Silently she prayed nothing would make it up there, instead be too focused on them to care. Cheers sounded around her as with a swoosh, Veledar sailed right over the heads of the cart bound town. She could almost feel the grin that he would be giving at hearing such admiration for his talents. She couldn’t help it, she let out a loud cheer as his tail swished overhead, not caring that it would swell his ego to thrice its usual size.

  They carried over moonlit fields with weapons clutched in their hands, and steady breaths that tried to steel the nerves as the undead came closer and faster than anyone would have liked. Shapes began to take form within the blackened blob of death, of ghostly looking skeletons with gleaming curved blades or holding tightly to gnarled bows with arrows already knocked. Dark fires were scattered among them, bathing them all in an orange glow. No doubt for their mortal masters to find targets for their unholy dogs. They passed some broken fences, belonging to some farmer or another, now home for several zombies squeezing themselves through the wood with guttural moans. They reached out with grasping hands as the carts sped on passed.

  “Get ready!” Asterion shouted out, holding up his mace as Veledar took the initiative. The red scales of the dragon shifted to a dull grey as he flew low, letting out a wave of rolling flames that began to crumble away the undead ranks and start to form a path for them to follow. She watched as the undead archers tried to loose their arrows up to try and strike revenge for their undead brethren. Arrows crashed into his hardened scales, breaking apart and splintering against his magicly reinforced hide.

  She clutched the rifle tightly as they neared the mass of undead, who rose spears and halberds to greet them, trying to close the gap that created wits draconic fury. Asterion was the first to deny them this chance, whirling his weapon around in a circle pattern as white brilliant light followed in his wake and cascaded out around the air. It shimmered for a moment, almost making her shield her eyes before the bull snorted once. Golden flames flung from his movements, flying out towards the undead ranks. Any who stood within the spell’s radiance was burned away in a flash of light and smell of incinerated flesh. The rough path that the dragon had started was now a road of grey ash, which the wolves scattered past, kicking up the material in a lingering cloud.

  The undead struck, advancing to strike back despite the ashes of their fellows being kicked around by their boney feet. They stabbed with spears, striking crates for cover. Rifles fired almost in unison, lighting up the night as skeletal attackers were pushed back. Swords smacked away pointed spears, deflecting them to held shields with dull smacks. Any undead that were too close to the wheels were run over, getting crushed by the wood with a loud rattling of bones.

  When the lead wolf had started to approach the section not cleared by dragon fire or holy flames it was Shandalar’s turn to act. The mage hung up her hands, like a dancer ready to start her movements to an unseen melody. She twiddled her fingers as flames danced around her fingertips and swirled around her palms. She flung out her arm, a ball of red flames sailing out towards the undead before them, exploding in a brilliant flash and scattering those caught within it like leaves before a windstorm. Once more before the undead could fill the hole left from the wizard’s spell, Veledar swooped down with a mighty roar, arrows breaking against his scales as his flames incinerated more of the undead before them.

  Lyndis could feel the heat even from this far back, pulling her rapier out and meeting a wicked scimitar with a clang. She dropped her rifle with a thud, throwing back her attacker as they passed, and deflecting a spear to strike at a crate to her right. The wooden container cracked as the metal head splintered its frame before getting yanked away by the skeletons unrelenting persistence. She ducked as an arrow whizzed by her head, grazing her ear and striking some farmer in the back. She winced as the man stumbled forward to the others, never knowing what hit him as the arrow pierced his heart. She cursed under her breath, burying the guilt with a snarl. She stabbed down, shattering one skeleton with her blade, a grim satisfaction finding her heart as bone crumbled way before her.

  Back and forth it went. Shandalar’s fireballs, Asterion’s holy flamestrike, and Veledar’s flame breath. Each one working in unison to clear them a path through the scores of skeletal warriors. She could even spy the break in their numbers. It would not be long before the first cart would pass through their lines, and they would have a clear stretch till the reached the bridge, and with it..Roselake. That’s when the troll came stampeding from the mass of bones and weapons.

  The big hulking thing tossed aside it’s lesser brethren like ragdolls. Twice her size it was covered in rotten green flesh that flicked away with each savage movement. Blackened ooze dripped down it’s arms like little onyx rivers to splatter on the ground in sickening plops. Its blackened pools were glossed over, narrowed and squarely focused on the carts. It let out a blood curdling screech that no living thing had any business of making. Earth ripped up in large chunks as the creature’s hulking feet carried it at an un-natural speed.

  “Troll!” She yelled, wincing as a halberd knicked at her shoulder and drew blood. “Focken troll!”

  “I see it lass! Bigger then this growth on a well…” The dwarf loosed two arrows into the hulking troll that hit it dead in it’s rotten chest. They glew a bright white before detonating in a fiery explosion, scattering flesh and muscle in every which way to expose it’s gleaming bones beneath.

  But still it kept coming.

  Rifles trained on the monster, shots that should have gone to the zombies, or skeletons instead splattered against the large creature. It shrugged them all off as if they were mere rain droplets against a steel bulwark. Screams and grunts of pain sounded around Lyndis as skeletal spears dug homes within the bodies of her people. Ice gripped at her as she flung a firebolt, the impacting bolt doing nothing to halt the creatures indominable charge, not even a giant green vine from the ground could stop it. The magically created plant wrapped around the troll’s leg, breaking away with its next stride.

  “Damn’t! Dat bastards tougher den a minotaur’s arse!” Merlia cursed, knocking two more arrows as Lyndis pelted the creature with a fury of magical fire, but it was no use. It struck the cart right near the rear, tipping it over and sending the one behind it crashing off to its side as well.

  Screams sounded from the passengers as those that picked themselves up were instantly beset on all sides by the ranks of undeath Dread stabbed at her soul as she forced herself to look away as skeletons and zombies advanced on them, a seemingly unrelenting wall of rotten flesh that despite the cart’s injured survivors, would not overcome. Spears stabbed, swords found homes in living flesh, and even zombies latched on to tear chunks from the screaming mortal’s bones. She gripped her rapier tight, deflecting another sword with gritted teeth, survival allowing her to forget at least for the moment.

  The troll perked up it’s head, ignoring the screaming mortals from the cart and letting out a snort. It’ oozing flesh reknitted itself as holes the size of fists closed with a gush of blackened ooze. With a scream it ripped up the ground in a shower of dirt before chasing after the trailing cart.

  It never got the chance to strike or rip another soul in two. For Veledar glided down to engulph the large creature in brilliant flames of death. He grabbed the writhing creature with his claws, pounding his wings against the air and dragging the unholy abomination into the sky. It slashed and struck at his stone like scales, but the dragon seemed to not mind. She cheered her relief as the dragon ripped the troll in two with a massive roar escaping his maw and showering the undead army below in a rain of blackened blood.

  Despite their success her heart threatened to leap from her chest as she parried blow after blow. Striking wasn’t important after all, but despite her skill she still had blades cut at her flesh. Small knicks to be sure, but reminders that her life was increasingly on the line with each passing second. She heard Merlia let out a laugh, taunting the undead as an arrow of hers struck a flesh covered necromancer in his surprised face. His head exploded like a ripe fruit.

  “Guess ya can’t take a load to the face!” The dwarf cheered, ducking from a clumsy halberd slash that missed her completely. She knocked another arrow without pause, pulling back the string of her white bow as the necromancer’s companion ran for cover. The dark clothed man only made it around the tent until the loosed arrow followed him, no doubt finding it’s target. “Love dis ting!”

  “Keep it together!” Lyndis cried, a bead of sweat dripping down her head as another spear missed her. She winced as the militia man to her right was decapitated with a wet thwack. The terror wrapped its way around her, trying to sink her below the cold waves, but she couldn’t. Not while everyone else was still alive. With the sound of Veledar’s wings flapping overhead she found her courage. She roared her fury, spreading her left hand wide, and letting loose a burning cone of blue flames. While not as strong as her wizard or cleric companions, it still provided her cart with a brief reprieve as they barrowed right passed.

  The dragon started to climb through the air, only to get bombarded with flying skeletal horses, and some weird twisted bat creatures with flaming eyes and bone white claws. Veledar roared as his grey scales faded away, and the creatures began to slice and cut into his scales. She heard Arcturus’ concerned cry, like a spear to her heart as the dragon was forced to the ground, crashing aside skeletons and scattering bones in his fall. The remaining shambling horrors advanced on the snarling dragon with snapping teeth and slashing swords. They never got there however, as the dragon’s loyal paladin let out his challenge.

  The human held his shield high, calling forth a prayer to Bahamut. For his inner light to cast away the undead monsters set before them. The red and silver shield began to glow in the light, shining as bright as the sun and bathing the undead in a holy light. From his shield sprung forth a great ghostly image of the great platinum dragon. With glowing blue eyes and spread wide wings it snapped its transparent teeth and let out a challenging roar. Undead who were caught within the paladin’s gaze fled for terror, scrambling and shielding eyes and empty sockets alike. It was as if the image was hurtful to them, as if they took any step near it the dragon would cause them intense pain. It swirled and circled Veledar, the undead clinging to him looking up to unleash loud hisses. They scattered away like rats, letting the red spread his wings and bound into the sky unhindered. His attackers tried to pursue him but this time the dragon was ready. He arced his head and incinerated them with his mighty fire breath. Not a single bony claw made it to him through his intense flames.

  Her arms ached, nerves stood on end as she fought for her life. Breaths came quicker as her heart threatened to explode. After the troll, the tireless waves of the undead that had to be it right? Her ears twitched as the chilling shriek of a woman made her tense up. The creature from the previous nights swooped in with a fluttering white dress, her claw like hands extended as her elven mouth unhinged at an un-natural size. Screams like a tortured victim washed over a cart, thin bands of blood appearing on every man or woman that still took breath. They wavered for a moment before collapsing with the bump of their cart, even their wolf slumping to the ground dead as the beast brought their cart toppling over. The sounds of zombies feasting soon filled the air.

  This had to be it…The final obstacle to bar the way.

  “Banshee!” She shrieked out, her voice cracking. She tossed a firebolt, crashing into the spectral creature’s form. The pale faced elven female snapped her head towards her, dead eyes locking onto her as her hair writhed and twisted like many coiling snakes. With her next breath the banshee sailed towards her, arms outstretched and mouth already dislocating.

  So, this is how it ends?

  “Banshee!” She cried again, but her worlds failed her. In fact the sounds of everything had faded away to leave an uneasy zone of silence. Before she could contemplate why this was, the banshee had swooped over to her, giving her a good look of her twisted face. She stared into the monster’s unhinged, rotted mouth, stabbing into it with her gleaming blade. The banshee recoiled in surprise, flailing away in pain as Lyndis retracted her blade and slashed quickly at an angle, slicing the woman’s pale arm off in the process. The white limb faded away in a burst of ghostly pale blue light. The banshee lashed out with its remaining claw like hand, slashing horizontally through the air like lightning. Lyndis cried out as it maneuvered around her blade, sharpened claws finding her side and sending her crashing to the floor of the cart with a groan. Her entire body shook, spinning over as the ghostly woman loomed over her frighteningly close. The air between them seemed to sparkle and mist as sound started to return, small faint sounds as though everything was far in the distance. Lyndis lashed out with her rapier, one last desperate strike to the creature’s head. Her blade found purchase, passing through the creature’s misty head before sending brilliant cracks down the banshee’s form. The spectral undead burst into thousands of little lights, scattering to the wind. She clenched her rapier in a vice like grip, as breaths came harder .She gasped, not believing she was still alive. Swords against shields clanged through the night air, the roar of combat dominating her ears.

  No stopping now.

  With a calming breath she shot up, letting fly another wave of fire as their cart broke free of the rank and file of undeath. Veledar’s flames a departing gift as the dragon soared overhead, covering their retreat. She bit her lip as her ears twitched, a spear narrowly avoiding her cheek as she swerved to the left. She spied a black robed necromancer, his skin covered by sickly looking human flesh stitched together like a patchwork quilt. The man’s eyes were already locked onto the line of carts, hands already in motion. Whatever spell he thought he could cast would no doubt be no good for them. It would only take a wall spell to put an end to their departure. The screams of the consumed came to mind as the cold lingering in her flesh was fought back with the thrust of her rapier.

  “Merlia!” She shouted as Shandlar flicked her wrist. Whatever spell the man had been weaving fizzled and died within his hands. Blue sparks exploded around him, leaving the necromancer surprised and staring at his dirt covered hands.

  “Don’t got any arrows!” Merlia shouted, hacking apart a zombie as Lyndis’ own cart followed her own out of the sea of undead. “Seventy!”

  Veledar was the one to come to their aid, angling a wing and bathing the necromancer and any foolish enough to stand beside him with flames. The town cheered as the crackling flames danced and consumed the shambling horrors, the man’s screams getting lost within the joyous shouts and whoops. She rose her rapier as the last of the carts emerged from the skeletons, arrows lining practically every surface and the crates used for cover gone. She spied several militia slumped over with dark crimson splotches on their clothes that had been ripped and sliced to near ribbons. Her heart throbbed at the cost, but they had survived. She sheathed her rapier as a fireball flew over her shoulder, exploding and denying any undead from leaping to the final cart.

  Slumping to the floor she held her still frantic beating heart, letting out a heavy sigh as the adrenaline began to wear itself off. Weight pulled down at her limbs, the cuts that knicked at her side sending tiny spikes of pain as she moved. Nothing that couldn’t be solved by a healer’s touch, but still made her wince. She peered back to the undead army still giving chase, their unrelenting determination to catch the mortals that had pierced their ranks. What was stopping them from following them all the way to Roselake? Wouldn’t they just be bringing the army to the poor town’s doorstep? She sighed, it couldn’t be helped. She had made the choice and now had to live with it. She pushed the corpse of the farmer from before away, his blood smearing the wood beneath his form. She met his darkened pools, his eyes wide and still full of surprise. Guilt nagged at her, turning what should have been pride and joy that they had survived into regret and sadness.

  How many more are dead because of us? Because of me? The thought a cold whisper against her skin, a deep cold coiling around her heart and pulling tight.

  She peered back to the other carts, only finding nine left of the original twelve. She tried to not picture all the haunting faces of those gone, push the piercing screams from her mind. The night air caressed her hair and cheeks, making the cold that lingered beneath grow and spread to her fingers. She hung her head, the next thump of her cart signaling they had started along the bridge.

  “Look they’re stopping!” Arcturus shouted in relief, causing her to perk her head up.

  Sure, enough the undead came to a screeching halt before they took a step across the bridge. It was as if an invisible wall had been erected on the road before the bridge, the eyeless sockets watching them grow further away. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought they were annoyed. She stared at them with amber embers, wondering why courage seemed to fail them. Sneaking a peak back to Roselake behind them, she whispered a prayer of thanks to whatever god was listening.