Chapter 33: Ambush
by inkadminI’m not the historian my father was, but I feel that somebody has to record the history of humanity, even if this is the last of us, huddled away here in this stronghold.
Fifty years after the return of levels, something is working again.
“Increased Perception”, “Increased Speed”, “Increased Strength”. These skills, gained from levels, have had visible effects. I saw a man lift a boulder twice his side. I myself, can see better than the birds that terrorize the skies. Lord Mackle has coined the term “passive internal enhancements.”
With this change, warriors classes have become kings. They are the most likely to have a passive skill, and we rely on them to defend our walls.
- A Compendium Of The Fall And Its Aftermath, by Alve Tamor and his descendants.
The Angel Statue is a fascinating artifact, and one of the strongest in my Mentor’s personal collection. It completely hides any traces of you, but beyond that, it effects the mind, pushing monsters that would normally walk into your camp away. I’ve noticed this effect to be particularly effective against the undead, and almost useless against many of the more intelligent races. It’s main weakness is that if something knows you are behind it, its protection can be easily broken by metal or magic. That’s why I didn’t use it after the initial ambush on the men who chased us out of town.
Hide Presence in comparison, has its fair share of weaknesses. I’ve seen it fail many times, certain senses penetrating past the protection. It certainly wouldn’t stop something from approaching if I was in its path already.
Shar is integral to my plan, and considering that they didn’t cast the trace on her, they likely don’t know she’s with us.
An hour of distance isn’t much time, but we push hard as we approach the town. Undead become more common, our path constantly changing as we get closer. Shar tells me that some distance is gained this way, but it won’t be enough to completely lose them.
Finally, in the distance, I spot a large village on the outskirts of the town, perfect for my plan.
I whistle, stopping the rock-lizard, then motion for Keve to join me around the roots of a tree.
Once more, I activate the Angel Statue, hiding us.
“Shar!” I call to the golem, and she flies over to me, landing on my outstretched arm. I outline the plan to her, and she moves in anticipation, before flying above us.
She leaves the statues protection, and lands on the tree, her gaze watching behind us for our followers.
Once she sees their close enough, she leaves towards the village.
The people following arrive first. Six in total, they don’t wear the obvious red-cloaks of the demon worshippers, but they move with a dangerous familiarity, searching the area. Lyla isn’t among them.
They’re following our footsteps, getting closer and closer to where we are hiding under the protection of the statue.
That’s when the sound hits.
The shattering of a tree under magic, then spears of darkness piercing the sky.
The party following us turns towards the sound, not even noticing as a dark shape slides over their heads.
No, their too focused on the undead behemoths following it.
The battle that follows is brutal, and devastating. Two monstrous undead and a warlock engage with the party that’d been following us.
Their mage is the first to go down, the warlock targeting them with some kind of draining spell that keels them over.
The monstrous ones are twice the size of a normal man, and equally as large around with bulging flesh. The warriors of the party manage to take one down, before the warlock systematically skewers every one of the humans.
After the party is dead, the undead feed. They rip the flesh from the bodies, some of them still screaming, and eat it with relish.
Keve and I watch from behind the protection of the statue.
I turn away, throwing up and retching.
Keve doesn’t look any better, and turns away his eyes wide as he stares at the ground.
Shar is long gone, not wanting to lead anything directly back to us.
After the undead are done feasting, the warlock looks around, before calling the monstrous undead back towards the village.
I breathe through my mouth, trying to ignore the smell of blood. I want to leave right away, but I know better.
So we wait for another hour before Shar returns, flying into the protection.
I deactivate the Angel Statue, and with her guiding, we hurry away from the scene. Jasper is clearly ready to be away, his speed forcing us to move at a faster pace than normal.
We’re completely silent as we leave the more dangerous vicinity of the undead town.
I follow my map, pointing us in the correct direction, and we continue our journey.
“Are you alright?” Shar is the one to break the silence, landing on a branch nearby.
Keve and I both freeze, looking up at the bird.
“I’ve seen a lot.” I answer, “That was… disgusting.”
“A light word, for a terrible sight.” Keve answers, then continues in his language to Shar.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
The crow shakes her head, “No, there is no word for it in common, Keve. But I understand.” She hops down, and swoops onto Jasper’s back. She speaks directly to me. “We are far from danger and have been pushing ourselves. We should rest.”
I look into the distance. There’s still an hour or two of light out, but as I take stock of my body, I realize that she’s right. I’m exhausted from the pace we’ve been keeping.
I look over at Keve, and realize that he wants to rest too.
So I follow her advice, and we quickly find a clearing to set up camp.
***
I stare up at my tent, the light of my stone illuminating the leathers. Shar is curled up against my side as a cat, and a book is closed on my chest.
I’d read the same sentence multiple times, unable to focus.
I’ve seen death before. Anybody who has lived in the frontier has. I’ve seen men eaten before, slowly by reavers, and quickly by behemoths.
But something about the brutality and the sickness of the undead’s feast stuck with me. There was intelligence behind it, and malice.
I close my eyes, remembering the last look the Warlock had given to its surroundings. For a second, he’d looked like a normal human with blood dripping from his chin.
I blow air out of my mouth, and reopen my eyes. Then I open the portal to my library, searching for a book on the undead. I’d read about them when I was younger, but it’s been a long time, and I always feel better knowing about a problem.




0 Comments