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Chapter 52 - A Lich's Curse: Part 6
🕑 Added 2022-05-09 08:54:55 +0000 UTCYou have successfully shield bashed zombie!
Zombie has been critically hit by saber.
Zombie has been set ablaze!
Eric did his best to ignore the panicked screams and shouts of the remaining townsmen still trapped in various buildings and unable to make their way to the fortified shelter leading to the escape tunnel at the very back of the massive tunnel, beyond even the gardens. Because for every panicked man woman and child he saved now…
There was a massive zombified titan fast approaching that would do its best to assure that there was no 'later' for anyone.
Still, when he saw four young kids who couldn’t have been older than 16 armed only with bardiches, basic gambesons, and no levels at all, he didn’t hesitate to plunge his blazing saber in the back of the skull of one walker before slashing open the legs of another, earning a quick holler of thanks. Then he was racing at a dead sprint for the gates as a far-off monstrous roar grew ever closer.
Endless moments seemed to stretch forever as he passed by countless ruined buildings, the air heavy with the sickly sweet scents of burnt plastic, charred plywood, and putrified flesh fried to a crisp.
He only spared himself a moment's regret and worry for the air quality in what was at least a somewhat closed-off environment, before turning to face the smoking remains of what had once been a three-story guardhouse. A building that was now just a shell of stone and burnt planks.
He could only be grateful that the entire thing hadn’t been wood, or else he’d truly fear for the air quality for everyone lacking 20+ vitality.
Wandering thoughts he quickly shook away, doing his best to ignore the smoking black smears he was almost certain were the remains of fallen walkers and guards alike, as he sprinted past the ruins of the guardhouse to behold the ruptured gate in all its shattered glory.
Eric looked at what had once been a pair of thick wooden gates, complete with arrow slits and spear-holes to attack any enemy, covered with a double layer of thick steel plates.
It had once been the pride and joy of the town, the gate far smaller than the passageway the massive cavern had branched off from, thanks to the massive blocks of granite mortared by what he guessed was a class skill to close off most of the tunnel opening, leaving only a ten by ten foot passage that was designed, Eric thought, with the needs of crates, carts, mounted men, or other advancements for the future, a balance of hoped-for growth and advancement, combined with the present day needs of security. And it was perhaps the only reason why the town was still standing, even if they were on their last legs.
Because the largest of the undead, who must have been a good thirty feet tall, had pounded open the door, but was unable to squeeze through the tunnel, for all that massive fists had most definitely slammed against the granite, as evidenced by cracks and more than a couple bulging rocks.
But the granite choke-point was, miraculously, still intact, minus a functioning gate for the tunnel.
And much to Eric’s relief, it looks like the community was blessed with a number of men and women infected with the fierce resolve to fight for their town, and the grit and wherewithal to get things done, as evidenced by the barricade now surrounding most of the shattered gate entrance with a single path through it that at least a few survivors had been using to crate fresh granite blocks, no doubt eager to plug the hole and seal off their sanctuary.
But progress had ground to a halt, clearly, as fresh walkers were now scrabbling over the handful of bricks that had been placed in the passageway before work had been abandoned.
The snarling undead, hampered by their legionnaire shields, were fiercely attacked by villagers fighting with more zeal than skill. Yet they were competent enough to dismember the desiccated zombies snapping at the citizen’s brigade with blackened teeth before their backs were cleaved open, skulls caved in, and another furiously wriggling body that refused to die on its own was quickly snagged by spear hooks and thrown into a blazing pit nearby.
Eric couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a hawk-eyed John Smith overseeing the operation, no doubt the distributor of bardiches and spear hooks both, an anxious-looking Mayor Stibbs and the leatherworker Hobbs standing by his side.
“John! Damn good to see you!” Eric said, jogging past the pit full of blazing zombie corpses to stand by their side, taking in the sight of a dozen hard-eyed men butchering and hacking apart the slow trickle of zombies still coming through with another dozen or so folk held in reserve, clearly resting up, getting ready to take over with a whistle from Hobbs.
John’s eyes widened in surprise at Eric’s presence, giving him a steely smile. “Eric! You made it! We were afraid that you and the rest of Morlekai’s crew… after all you did...” the man just shook his head. “It’s damned good to see you, lad. That’s all I can say.”
“Eric! Heaven’s grace, my boy! It’s wonderful to see you!” The mayor said, the rotund, gnomish-looking Stibbs smiling with relief in his soot-stained finery, with an odd hopeful look in his eyes that immediately make Eric wince, hating the sudden pressure of expectation he felt as all three mean peered at him with hard-assessing gazes underneath their relieved smiles.
No doubt hoping he could pull a miracle out of his ass.
All the more so, when the ground seemed to shake with a titanic roar.
"Don't panic, you fools, fight! Hack those fuckers up, harder than ever! We have to control this thing while we can!" Hobbs roared at the shaken men, who immediately snapped back to attention and fighting, which was a good thing, since one of the zombies had already managed to get back on its feet and lash out with its one remaining hand. It was an important lesson for the wide-eyed survivors, Eric thought. To know that they couldn't afford the luxury of terror, that there was no real option of retreat. They either fought fearlessly with everything they had, or everyone died to the ravenous monsters trying to tear out their throats even now.
“Eric? Is there something you and Morlekai can do?”
Eric swallowed and forced himself to nod at the desperate gazes being sent his way as the air filled with crimson crows, the smith’s honest question hitting him harder than anything else.
“Actually there is,” he admitted, even as he shifted a few things in his mind to account for the actual dimensions of the shattered gates and the granite passage. Eric took a deep breath, then met their eyes. “The thing is… I don’t think I’ll be coming back.” He flashed a bitter smile at the solemn nods he received, heads bowing with profound respect. “Not this way, at least.”
The mayor solemnly squeezed Eric’s hand. “Whatever you can do to help our town, Eric, please know that we will all be profoundly grateful, and forever in your debt.”
You have been given a quest: Junk Town is under attack! Mayor Stibbs is requesting all adventurers and heroes do their part to save the town! Experience rewards (and extreme reputation bonuses among the citizens of Junk Town and general reputation bonuses with the native Terran population) will be awarded, dependent upon degree of contribution!
This quest has 4 components.
Objective 1: Survive the initial onslaught! Kill Incursion leaders (Revenants), and help to break the initial surge! (Complete)
Objective 2: Seal Main Town Gate!
Objective 3: Stop Enemy Boss: Norvolth the Consumer.
Objective 4: Close Local Incursion Gate leading to the dread necropolis of King Olzgoth!
Obective 1 has been successfully completed! Your contribution total = 63%!
He suppressed a shiver as the cavern shook with the roar of death fast approaching.
"No time to waste," Eric said, his voice ringing with command. “Have every living person get back!”
“You heard the hero!” snapped a grimly smiling Hobbs. “Everyone back away!”
“But sir! More are coming!" Several exhausted-looking volunteers were giving Eric cynical looks before their friends pulled him back.
“Don't you recognize that kid's armor? He's the one who took out the bastards at the barracks!"
“But the barracks were burnt to the ground.”
“I know! Now step back, that thing’s hot!”
But Eric quickly tuned out the flood of anxious voices paying a bit too much attention to what might well be his final moments as he lashed out with his blade of flame to caress the stumbling forms of three injured but not yet dead revenants before entering the stone passage from which there would be no easy return.
The vast arching tunnels beyond the partially plugged cavern entrance shook with the enraged roars of what could only be Norvolth the Consumer, and Eric froze at the sight of a massive wave of undead walkers slowly approaching from the depths of the vast tunnel just beyond the town gate.
Eric did his best to fight through the cold jolt of terror now shivering down his spine. “You ready, Morlekai?”
But his friend had already flooded past him in a tide of crows.
It was just him, a dark stone passageway, and a great flood of enemies steadily advancing.
Ignoring the frantic pounding of his heart, Eric forced himself to take a final moment to truly absorb the dimensions of this corridor and the much smaller side-passage that effectively served as the bottleneck leading to the town, right now secured only by a compromised gate, making quick desperate final adjustments before committing himself fully to his plan, just as the undead wave closed in on him.
You have embraced Burst of Strength!
You have successfully knocked back Lesser Hoard of zombie walkers!
With a furious roar, Eric raced forward, smashing back the nearest handful trying to enter the tunnel gate with explosive force an instant before his white-hot blade caressed the few walking corpses that had tried to slip past. And with three more walkers immediately erupting into sulfurous flame, everything in the hallway truly did belong to the dead.
Which meant that nothing living was in the hallway. The only stipulation that could possibly interfere with the next step of his plan.
Or so he hoped.
“Keep them off me, Morlekai!”
Even as he said the words, a crimson swarm of crows was suddenly pushing back a fresh swarm of revenants struggling to enter the tunnel.
Almost as if they knew.
Knew what Eric could do, if he even had a second’s respite.
And the look in the glowing eyes of the closest pair of undead soldiers staring at him so intently nearly froze Eric to the quick.
As if those baleful eyes were windows to the soul of another.
“I’m coming for you, Eric Silver,” said the pair of walking corpses in eerie unison even as Morlekai did all he could to force them back, ripping and tearing into them with impossibly sharp beaks.
Eric couldn’t help flashing a bitter smile, squeezing his fist as the earth shook behind him.
“You sure about that, Olzgoth? Maybe I’m the one coming for you!”
The flood of skeletons hissed and howled before surging forward, now disregarding the crows completely.
But it was already too late.
Too late for them to stop what he was doing.
Too late to even flee Eric's wrath as he lashed out with shield and saber, smashing ancient legionnaires to the ground an instant before he sent them to the next world in pyres of flame.
Congratulations!
You have successfully shaped Zombified Bulwark to plug Reinforced Gate Tunnel! (Dumbbell configuration, 4-D placement) This plug has not only successfully sealed off and reinforced Granite Tunnel, its unique shape and placement also makes it almost impossible to remove!
You have completed Stage 2 of Mayor Stibb’s Town Quest!
You have helped to rescue an entire community from the perils of certain death!
Even if you have only brought them an hour’s grace, a portion of the infinite potential of 946 lives is now your own!
You have chosen Maximum potency to skill rank conversion!
ESS Manipulation is now at Rank 9!
Apprentice Flesh Sculptor is now at Rank 10!
Congratulations! You have achieved Journeyman Status in Flesh—
You have chosen the Path of Dominion! (Without even bothering to go over your myriad options, or knowing what boons or perils such a choice would bring, now thrice-daring a forbidden path!)
Eric shook away the Interface messages, not daring to risk the time dilation he sometimes benefited from when forced to make a System choice. Not when so many lives were now counting on him, and a single mistake or distraction could cost him, quite literally, everything.
But he sure as shit wasn't going to let the System pick any perks for him, not when he knew damn well that, fair as it might be for most scions about most class options, it held no love for unorthodox arts his Terran heritage alone allowed him access to. Though he did feel a certain sense of satisfaction insisting on one particular skill specialization that synced so well with his other necromantic ones, and played to his Essences affinities besides.
It was a choice that seemed to throw his Interface completely off.
Good. Because even if he had no idea what the hell the Path of Dominion had to do with flesh sculpting, it had to be better than anything else he could choose in the literal blink of an eye.
Eric risked only a quick glance back at the narrowed tunnel entrance to their sanctuary, now well and truly cut off from the rest of the vast tunnel network, thanks to Eric's bulwark that had not only sealed the passageway, but had spread out to form a plug of bone, sinew, and nearly impervious lizard scale hide over the entirety of the original entrance that somehow blended in perfectly with the surrounding tunnel walls.
Eric couldn't help grinning in fierce satisfaction at the sheer size of his massive barricade, before a sudden twinge in his gut and the odd lightness of his Extradimensional storage space made it clear that something was wrong.
And then, with a groan, he understood what had happened.
“Fuck!”
“Eric, get your head in the game!” Roared the crow on his shoulder as Eric nearly got his face ripped off by a snarling Revenant, eyes blazing with fiery hate as it tried to bowl him over, with a score of zombies ready to impale him just a foot behind.
You have suffered 1 Light Wound!
You are embracing your Wrath. Revenant flung free!
“I used up my final fucking lizard!” Eric screamed as he lashed out with his blade, smashing through the revenants with another shield rush before cleaving and slashing and tearing his way through the now disoriented mass of undead, leaving a double handful of blazing pyres behind. And even if his technique was improving, even if that latest Burst of Strength was one he could perform a dozen more times before Soul Exhaustion hit him once more, it did nothing for the sting of losing the sweet prize he had hoped would net him a fortune in Freetown.
Which meant absolutely nothing if he died here, he thought, stumbling at just the wrong moment as fearsome teeth snapped into his ankle and he could feel the seething hate of the furious revenant determined to trip him over right into the half dozen zombies still standing, and just seconds from Nolzgoth turning the corner, no doubt eager to finish slamming open the gate… as soon as it finished pounding Eric’s own foolish head in.
Eric wasted no time on banter, merely glaring his hate as his blade slashed against the black thing's hide. And despite his 20 strength, his angle was such that he was only able to gouge it as it squirmed and writhed. And though it was now blazing merrily away, its fanatic eyes made it clear that that was fine as long as it could take Eric with him.
“Eric!” Morlekai cawed, before the swarm of cawing crows coalesced into a snarling Morlekai showing his own considerable skill as his blade flashed, and the revenant cackled with unholy glee as his blade too seemed to bounce off what Eric now realized was a powerfully warded hide.
Yet Eric's necromantic affinities made it clear that the creature was paying a terrible price for its ward. Its soul was burning to ash at that very moment, and it was now doomed to oblivion no matter what happened. Yet Eric had no doubt that the lich at the head of it all would consider it a negligible price to pay, if the creature managed to cripple Eric before he could break free.
Eric glared at the wild-eyed undead thing with furious hate. Before allowing that hate to infuse a blade that now resonated with the furious intensity and insights of countless swordsmen before him, their skill and focus
somehow translating into one perfect swing.
Doom Slice!
It was almost comical, a momentarily dazed Eric thought, how the revenant’s eyes bulged in surprise before the jaw eased its grip as the headless body slumped to the ground, it’s previously unbreachable ward suddenly popping like a soap bubble.
A highly explosive soap bubble.
Sensing the sudden build-up of eldritch forces, Eric frantically kicked the thing off a heartbeat later, his friend roughly pulling him back just before the silently shrieking head burst into hellish flame.
“Shake out of your stupor and get back on your feet!” Morlekai roared, doing his best to hold off the half dozen walkers now trying to hem them in, using their large shields, or scutum, in skilled tandem. Because it was against less dense packs of warriors, preferably lightly armored and wielding longer, more unwieldy weapons, that the legionnaires had excelled at fighting for centuries. As evidenced by how well they were now forcing Morlekai back, step by step, his swings blocked, his thrusts worthless against unliving flesh.
Until their advance stopped in deathly howls and flame, a humbled Eric on his feet once more, grateful just to be alive and not even temporarily crippled as he slammed into the soldiers, ignoring the savage thrust to his gut that his armor mitigated to an ugly bruise.
Strength modified skill check made!
Eric then used his shield to hook and wrench one scutum aside before caressing multiple shriveled necks with the gift of his saber's flame.
And then they were through.
But whatever sense of triumph Eric felt immediately froze in his throat as the side tunnel opened into the massive central corridor now trembling with the sound of a giant's pounding steps.
“Eric, run!”
Eric didn't need to be told twice as the massive 30 foot giant of twisted muscle and bone lumbered closer, roaring with a mouth that stretched out like a gorilla's maw, for all that its obsidian eyes glimmered with a malicious intelligence.
And there could be no doubt that they, as tiny and small as they might be in comparison, had caught its gaze.
But that was fine with him, Eric thought, so terrified by the sight of his nemesis that it had somehow turned to a curious exhilaration. And even if his feet were frozen in place… his bow sure as hell was not.
For an endless second, he gazed at the massive twisted countenance of the giant sentinel sneering down at him with massive eyes of a soft-brown hue that looked oddly pristine and whole in a simian face tinged blue with death, skin appearing tough and leathery and covered in mold.
Eric dared to smile past his terror as he nocked his arrow at full draw, refusing to look away from the blinding light when he finally released his arrow in a white-hot streak of flame.
Whatever lies he might tell himself later, he knew damn well that his hands had shaken like a man terrified for his life.
Yet the arrow struck true. Right into the mouth of the abomination that had once been a man, eager to see a face filled with pain and fear the match of Eric’s own before he turned and ran.
But much to his horror… the minute his arrow entered its mouth, it was as inert as a month-old birthday candle. Its heat gone as if it had never been.
Contest of skills! Novice White Tier Essence of Flame (Flickering) v.s. Journeyman White Tier Essence of Dominion (Saturated)
Skill check FAILED! You have been bested by Lich King Olzgoth of a Thousand Eyes whose gate assures that his blessings will enhance his favored champions as if they were still in his territory, even half a world away!
Quickness check made!
Soul Link allows you to reclaim your arrow before essence or potency can be consumed by your foe. Lucky you!
And before Eric could even turn around and sprint down the main thoroughfare, the creature’s roar sent shivers of ice down his spine.
Essence of Dominion & Mental Resistance bonuses are now in effect! Willpower save versus Spiritual Chains successful!
Eric choked back a scream as the horrific weight of his own inevitable demise crashed through him. A wave of terror that nearly sent him sprawling to the ground, easy prey for the massive titan approaching from their rear.
Yet somehow he managed to stay on his feet, one foot stumbling in front of the other until he was running once more. Even if it was now a struggle, as if he was being forced to sprint up a hill. And when Morlekai crashed to the ground with a cry, Eric somehow managed to scoop his friend up and charge forward, the opposite way the titan was approaching, and straight towards yet another pack of undead walkers, all of them shambling down the hallway. Perhaps from the very gate Eric’s Interface now pinged as being less than a mile away.
“Get your head back in the game, Morlekai! You’re no necromancer’s bitch!” Eric shouted as he lashed out with his blazing saber, earning at least one hiss of discomfort from the man he was holding like a football as ERic’s fiery hot blade flashed, no doubt scalding the half-breed vampire’s skin as his weaving, darting blade quickly transformed the closest handful of zombies into furiously burning pyres, as neither Morlekai’s skin nor armor was protected by a coating of Eric’s Flame-essence infused blood.
And for all that his skill was hampered significantly with a groaning Morlekai in his left arm, 20 Strength, endless reserves of stamina, and a grace to his movements that allowed him to pirouette away, no matter what angle the sporadic clusters of zombies attacked from, meant that he could at least keep them at bay as he darted through the loose stream of undead obeying their master’s silent call and lurching toward Junk Town, only coming to a semblance of actual life as Eric approached, before crashing back down to death once more when he was through with them, leaving nothing but flames and piles of ash behind.
Essence of Flame and Dominion synergize fully with Dominion’s Path! You have dared to reforge your enemy’s flesh-sculptures in fire!
Even when all he dared were quick flicks of his blade before darting away, not daring any moulinets or double-slashes with Morlekai held closely to him, it was more than enough to get the white-hot fires blazing deep within utterly desiccated corpses, such that they were consumed by flames before they could take twenty steps, even if Eric was always in constant danger of them latching on to him in ten as he raced through the scattered stream of evenly spaced out zombies.
Yet like a chain reaction of dominoes, there was a growing hoard that he had disturbed at his back, now rapidly racing back the way they had come. And even if a few were setting their fellows ablaze before they themselves collapsed in their own funeral pyres, it wasn't nearly enough.
“Morlekai, for fuck’s sake! Snap out of it!”
And much to Eric’s relief, his friend exploded in a crimson flood of crows, now swarming and cawing over the constant stream of undead, buying Eric the moment or two he needed to summon his shield and lash out with his saber in earnest, embracing hit and run tactics to the fullest as he weaved and darted through the undead mob. Because to stay in one place was death.
Far better to crash at a sprint into the next zombie coming his way before bashing it aside and lashing out for a slicing draw-cut as it collapsed and wasting no more time or effort than that, hopefully transforming it into a pyre, but always leaping, dodging, pivoting around, or otherwise slipping past or just smashing right through the startled undead and dashing forward, knowing that if he dared stop for even a second, the countless dozens he hadn’t had a chance to cut down one on one while carrying Morlekai could easily overwhelm even him, and the thought of being pinned down by undead hoards while rotting teeth tore into vulnerable flesh before digging even deeper into his shrieking skull was one horrific end he wanted to avoid at all costs.
Fortunately, Morlekai’s crimson crows, flying toward and hampering the growing number of undead at their back, was helping him gain precious distance.
Save for the single crow perched on Eric’s shoulder, pointing a wing down a branch in the main corridor just ahead.
“I know!” Eric hissed. Because if the sickly green light and the steady stream of zombies pouring from that particular fissure in the rock wasn’t enough of a dead giveaway, the obsidian cords of necromantic energy thrumming in the air most definitely was.
If he had any sense at all, he'd turn around and flee for all he was worth. So of course he charged right for it, bitterly certain that he was one of the very few survivors with both the skills and the idiocy to take on this job.
