Tirin Rohir“Gods it’s dark,” muttered Workerdrone.
“Hang on, I’ve got a light,” said Humaan. He lit a match. There was a zombie a few feet away from him, staring.
“Ah… ah…” began Humaan.
“Oh for Gods sake,” said Workerdrone, and cleaved the zombies head from its shoulders. It slumped to the floor.
(Gah! Sudden attack of nothing to say!)“Now make a torch and lets get going, shall we?” he said. Humaan took an unlit, dusty torch from a holder on the wall and lit it. The room brightened up. It was a large and open room, with a door on the far side.
“Well, onward,” said Workerdrone, striding up to the door. The others followed. Walter pressed an ear to the door.
“More zombies,” he said. “Lots.”
“Goody,” said Oldbeard.
Workerdrone opened the door and charged in, followed by Humaan. They began to lay into the multitude of undead that lay beyond the door, gathered together in the middle of the enormous cavern, which was lined with the hundreds of coffins of the recently undead. Humman lay about himself with his sword, severing dusty limbs and chopping off heads, whilst Workerdrone just sang as he sliced the hell out of whatever was near him.
vim osdin zursul!
Nashon libash, odad!
Onor, othob uthgur!
vim osdin zursul!The words bounced eerily off of the cavern walls and Workerdrone seemed to grow bigger as he butchered the zombies. Walter, on the other side of the cavern, was facing down a large group of the shuffling things. He grinned, raised his leather glove, and fired. There was a small
phwoosh and flame shot out, enfolding the undead and catching them on fire. Walter whooped with delight, drew his sabre and moved on. Oldbeard, behind him, had loaded a carved redwood bolt. He aimed it at a group of zombies and pulled the trigger.
PhwoomThe resulting shards of flaming wood buzzed towards the zombies, catching them on fire. Oldbeard grinned as the corpses stumbled around blindly, still moaning in low monotone as they burned. The entire cavern was soon bereft of lifeless corpses or, at least, lifeless corpses still moving around.
“Well that was sod easy,” said Humaan. “Was that it?”
The cavern had many little passages branching off from it. A creaking and ‘clack clack’ of bone on stone issued from several.
“You pillock, what’d you have to go and say that for?” grumbled Oldbeard. “Haven’t you heard of the Tomb/Crypt rules?”*
Walter cursed and Workerdrone grinned.
“What can a few skeletons do anyway?”** He said. “We can take them.”
Skeletons stumbled out from the corridors.
(You know, I did twenty pics for this update. I still enjoyed it. Lots of fun)They were armed. Some even had armor. They were grinning and they somehow managed to project the air that they were grinning because they wanted to. They had soon surrounded the dwarves and human.
“Pillocks,” grumbled Oldbeard.
Several skeletons moved out of the way of a cloaked, hooded figure, pushing its way to the front of the crowd, leaving a trail of ice in its wake. The room grew cold.
(Spooky)“Ah, and you would be the necromancer,” said Workerdrone cheerily. “You aren’t human; I know that, so what are you?”
The figure reached up and threw back its hood. It was a skeleton, glowing a cold, burning blue. It was hovering a few inches off the floor.
“That’s a lich,” said Oldbeard. “Sure as hell. A bloody lich. Rare enough these days. That’d be what’s controlling these bloody skeletons.”
“So, if we kill him, these things stop?” asked Walter.
“Aye, but he has power over cold and the very air in this room is cold, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“So we burn the hell out of him, duh,” said Humaan.
“
I can hear you, you know,” said the lich reproachfully. Its words seemed to freeze in mid air. “
I don’t suppose you’d consider a peaceful solution?”
“What?” said Walter.
“
Well, you just stand their and my minions rip you limb from limb.”
“That… doesn’t sound all that peaceful,” said Workerdrone.
“
Peaceful for me,” said the lich. “
Any takers? No?”
In response, Oldbeard loaded a bolt and Walter primed his glove.
“
Be it on your own heads,” said the lich. “
Kill them.”
Oldbeard fired his hotshot. The burning ball of molten metal flung itself towards the lich, who raised a hand nonchalantly. A wall of solid ice appeared in front of him. The ball burned through so fast they didn’t have time to see it. It struck the lich in the chest, turning the bone into something resembling toothpaste. The lich folded in on itself, as something was wont to do after having its ribcage not so much collapsed as liquefied.
(Nothing to add. Appreciate Oldbeards awesomeness)“Bastards” said a little voice, which faded away. The skeletons collapsed into a pile of bones.
(Cool)“That was ea-” began Humaan, before he saw Oldbeard glaring at him.
Workerdrone strode over to the cold, lifeless…less… body of the lich.
“Hey, there’s this blue crystal embedded in his forehead!”
The others rushed over. Walter plucked it out of the lich, who immediately crumbled to dust.
“This… looks like a scrying device,” he said. “Perhaps someone was controlling the lich? Another warlord perhaps?”
“That’s a possibility,” said Workerdrone. “But we’ve stopped the zombies anyway, let’s go.”
They exited the tomb. Outside, the dwarves were sitting round a roaring fire.
“We got some wood from the town. They won’t be wanting it,” said Barbarossa. “How’d the grave keeping go?”
“It was a lich,” said Oldbeard. “But we think he was being controlled, through this.” He proffered the crystal. Behind Barbarossa, Limul reached almost unconsciously to his pockets. He stopped before anyone noticed.
“Well, that’s that dealt with,” said Barbarossa.
“I, uh, I’ve thought of a name for our company,” said Ryan.
“Really? What is it?”
“Eli Eremo”
“Wait… hang on, third vowel, I before… That means ‘The Blades of Bashing, does it not?” asked Barbarossa.
“Aye, it does,” replied Ryan.
“Well, I’ve heard worse suggestions. Everyone fine with Eli Eremo?”
The dwarves all nodded.
“Well then, that’s that. Thanks lad,” said Barbarossa.
They trudged off. As they passed through the town, they heard the sound of doors opening. The company immediately formed a circle in the middle of the snow covered road.
A man walked out of one of the houses. He pointed at the dwarves.
“Did you remove the blight from our ancestor’s tomb?”
“Aye,” said Workerdrone cautiously. “That we did.”
The man turned and hollered in Old Human. People began pouring from the houses. The man turned to the company.
“Thank you! We have not been able to visit our forefather’s graves for a score of years! There has always been some form of eldritch abomination living there, but now... Thank you!”
He charged off, followed by the rest of the town folk. The company watched them go. After a while, Kogan spoke.
“Do you think they know of the curse?”
“That’s a point,” said Barbarossa. “But I’m sure they’re sensible and won’t go in more than four at a –
ohbuggerrun!”
The dwarves turned and ran off. In the distance, moaning began to pick up.
The hall of David Tiringuki, warlord of Isdilomoth“So, to recap, you dealt with the zombie problem, but then made it worse?” asked David.
“No. The lich was the problem. He raised the skeletons, but the zombies were just there to protect to tomb. They weren’t venturing out. Now the tomb is protected again,” said Barbarossa.
“Aye, and at the cost of one of my hamlets,” said David severely. Then he laughed. “I hated them anyway. Well done! Pay the brave men and dwarves of Eli Eremo.”
A man threw a bag of coins at their feet.
“And we you not join me tonight, for a celebratory feast of mead and pork?” asked David. The dwarves nodded eagerly.
*The Tomb/Crypt rules are rather simple rules well know to anyone with any dealing in crypts and or tombs at all. They are as follows.
1. Do not go around poking corpses and stealing their stuff unless you are prepared to kill them again.
2. Keep several spare torches and matches and for Gods sake, keep them dry.
3. Never identify yourself as the wise cracking sidekick unless you wish to be killed rather horribly via some sort of spike trap.
4. And never ever say something like “well that wasn’t so bad”, “was that it?” or the worst of them all, “where is that giant dragon anyway?” ** Classic example of rule four
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Topic: To venture north, into Hell: Othtar Noloc, world at war (Read 106585 times)