21st of Felsite, Late Spring, 251On the fourth day, when Thob's gurgles had finally died down enough that we could not hear them through our improvised barricade, things had already turned sour. Rimtar, our enraged armorer, kept clawing at the locked door of her bedroom and yelling curses, while Dwarfy desperately tried to get her to eat and drink. She had gone mad, after discovering that we had pranked her by constructing a lego anvil, as the funds for a real anvil were simply not there. Dwarfy kept watch as she slowly faded, and eventually perished silently, spewing curses until her last breath.
Meanwhile, Glass sat at his wife's side as she desperately tried to give birth. The labor took more than a day, but in the end, young Imush had been born a healthy forumite girl. We spent weeks underground, until suddenly, Glass called all of us together. Little Imush was playing around with some gemstones, when Glass noticed their reflections. He had come up with an elaborate plan to dig a set of small tunnels and use gemstone lenses to project what happened on the surface to a room inside. We dismissed him, but he went and did it anyway.
Five days later, Glass returned. He was covered in rock and dirt, having little cuts all over his body. Yet his grimy look was starkly contrasted by the pride in his eyes. "I did it", he said, and he took us to a room underground.
The room itself was simple, dug into a layer of granite. Yet it was filled with dozens, if not hundreds, of shiny gems. Cut in odd shapes and placed at odd angles in the walls, some with holes behind them, others just embedded in the rock. But it was not the room that was impressive. It was the floating construction of colored light within. It was warped, easily disturbed by wrong positioning of those within the room, or even vermin scuttering over the surface lenses, but it worked. If it was magic, technology, a mixture of both or neither, I do not know. But it worked, mostly. Before me, I saw the surface. I saw the dead lands, the crumbling trees, and most of all, the undead, shuffling around.
I spent weeks in that room, only leaving to eat, drink, relieve myself or sporadically sleep. And from within the fortress, I saw what happened above my head. The two necromancers, pesky humans, and their entourage of Fell Slayers, first made camp in a group. Desecrating the earth, playing with corpses and practicing their foul magics. Their mindless undead had taken to hunting wildlife, traveling in a slow yet untiring group. Killing adders and giant sparrows wherever they could.
After a week of watching, five weeks into the siege, things started changing. The mindless zombies started to move differently. The Necromancers and Fell Slayers seemed to try to deny nervousness. And I could feel some sort of aura coming from the Northwest. An aura of coldness. Not evil, but a pure force lacking emotion. It was then that two of the zombies disappeared. Where they once shambled, trying to crush butterflies, only their uneven footsteps remained. I scryed the projection, but could not find anything. Two days later, I found their corpses, hidden away between the branches of trees. Suddenly, I saw movement. Two elven scouts, caught by the undead, dragged from whatever crafty hiding place they had. We would not have stood a chance, but the unnatural senses of the undead had managed to track these hunters. They perished quickly. Through the layers upon layers of stone, I could feel the aura that hung in the air change. Disappointment.
It was then I saw her. Jasro, as we learned later. A shotgunwoman carrying an impressive silver spear. Followed by an entourage of apprentices. She walked slowly into the clearing, casually stepping over the corpses of her scouts. She shot her barrels into the air, garnering the attention of the undead. It did not take long before a mass of zombies was approaching them from all sides.
"Prove yourselves."
That was the only thing she said, as two of her apprentices, Ninjas, rushed into the hoard. They did not manage to kill a single goblin as they fell.
"Disappointing."
That was her only reaction to the deaths of these Ninjas. Two humans followed, one taking down an RPG-Gamer zombie, the other killing two haxxor zombies. Both were torn apart.
"Failure."
Two more apprentices rushed into battle, some managing to score one, or even two kills before they died. The two Necromancers looked on from a distance, surrounded by their nervous Fell Slayers.
"Insufficient."
Her last two apprentices, a goblin swordsman and a human lasher, jumped into the frey. They were torn apart almost instantly.
"Pathetic."
She was alone now, surrounded by zombies. She drew her silver spear. It took days, but in the end, she only scratched her barrels. I counted every kill. 15 zombies laid dead once more at her feet. The Necromancers and their Fell Slayers had long retreated and left the site. Only a single haxxor zombie still stood. She ignored it, and casually walked to the fortress. Our own improvised militia had rushed out, to kill the last one and lift the siege. 8 Forumites against a single haxxor zombie. Nord almost lost his leg. NAV died, a gruesome and sad death, as the haxxor turned his throat into mush with a singe punch. Jasro did not even look back. She was received a hero, and informed us bluntly that she would live here from now on. I could not do anything but nod. That night something came to me in my sleep. It entered my mind.
I am losing control of my body.
Again, this entry is accompanied by drawings
Dwarfy1, keeping watch as Rimtar passes on to the next realm
A rotten parade of shambling corpses, chasing around the wildlife
The elven scouts emerging, and their fight to the death.
Jasro Siegebreaker (Bottom Right) and the trail of corpses she left behind
Nervous necromancers and their Fell Slayers, overlooking the battlefield from a distance yet refusing to get involved.
Jasro Siegebreaker, declaring her intent to move in and purge the undead from this area.
Our improvised militia, with NAV gurgling his last words and Nord's maimed leg
Wew, I was preparing for a year of being completely sieged down. Turns out we were rescued by visitors. Armok bless their digital souls.
I'm not sure if I'm allowed to do this on my own turn, but I'd like to nominate Jasro "Siegebreaker" Spishabstama the Double Barreled Shotgun Spearwoman for an early addition to the hall of legends. She fought completely by herself and managed to singlehandedly down 15 zombies, saving the fortress from a migrantless, traderless, boozeless year.
Here's her kill list.
Author
Topic: Necrothreat V: The Dead Halls (Read 25796 times)