Blood and Honor

“Holy water!” yelled Mordan, slashing at the spectral hand. It dissolved in a burst of light as his enchanted blade struck it. Tarrel pulled a flask from his bandolier, uncorked it, and poured it over the nearest of the abominations. It sizzled like acid where it struck the creature, blistering and blackening its horrid flesh.

Mordan peered out of the room to try to see where the spectral hand had come from, and was not surprised to see one of Dravuliel’s undead elves facing the doorway. Between him and the spellcaster were a dozen armored zombies, with their longswords drawn. Shoulder to shoulder, they advanced with shields raised. The Karrn stood in the doorway to guard his flanks, and raised his rapier to the ready position.

“More coming this way!” he yelled.

Chapter 22

The Master

Olarune 26, 999 YK

“Take them alive!” boomed a voice, seemingly from nowhere. With a smooth, mechanical action, the zombies sheathed their swords and dropped their shields, walking over them without breaking their stride. A strong hand seized Mordan from behind, pulling him back into the room and throwing him to the ground. Brey launched herself over him, tearing into the zombies’ front rank with her sword.

One of the zombies tried to grapple her, but she struck its outstretched arm with devastating force. Her blow should have severed the limb, but instead her sword struck bone with a dull ringing sound and stopped. When Brey drew her weapon back for another blow, the blade was notched and the glint of metal could be seen in the wound it had made. The thing’s bones were made of iron. She struck again, with the same result, then threw down her sword in frustration and wrestled the zombie, holding it in the doorway and blocking the others from entering.

Haldin looked on in apparent confusion, as if he didn’t understand what he was seeing. Tarrel grabbed the gnome by the shoulders and shook him, and his eyes cleared a little.

“Do something!” yelled the Brelander. Haldin blinked a couple of times, and then pulled out his blue dragon statuette. Holding it up, he recited a prayer—haltingly, but with determination—and looked expectantly at the doorway.

Nothing happened. Brey and the zombie were still deadlocked, and the others were trying to push them back out of the doorway. Haldin tried a different incantation, with the same lack of result. He turned to Tarrel and shrugged.

Mordan stood beside the doorway, waiting for a chance to strike. The weight of the zombies pushing from behind eventually told, and Brey was forced back inch by inch, still locked in a grapple. Mordan struck the creature from the side, sliding his blade between its ribs. It faltered, and he struck again, dropping it to the ground. Brey looked at him with a nod, understanding in her blazing eyes, and pulled another zombie through the doorway, pinning its arms to present the Karrn with a helpless victim. Two more thrusts of his rapier, and the zombie fell on top of the body of its comrade.

Tarrel was reading from another scroll. As he completed the spell, Haldin blinked and shook his head as if to clear it. Holding up his sapphire dragon once more, he repeated the incantation that had failed earlier—and this time, half of the zombies turned and fled. There was momentary confusion as they hampered their comrades that were still trying to reach the doorway, and Mordan took advantage of the deadlock to fell two more of the creatures.

“Get out of the way!” yelled Tarrel, raising his wand. Brey and Mordan sprang back to each side of the doorway, just as a bead of red light from the wand shot through it. The fireball exploded in the midst of the zombies, destroying several and setting the rest on fire.

For a moment the doorway was clear, and Mordan hurled himself through it. His rapier felled a burning zombie as he rolled to his feet, and he looked around for the undead spellcaster. The elf had already started to retreat, but Mordan was faster; two lightning-fast thrusts and he fell to the ground, still.

Brey was next through the doorway, followed by Tarrel and Haldin. Dria d’Cannith brought up the rear, unarmed and looking around nervously. The remaining zombies were quickly dispatched, and the gnome bent briefly over one of them, slicing the flesh of its arm with a dagger to expose the bones beneath.

“Fascinating,” he mused. “They actually look like iron.” As he watched, the dull gray color faded, leaving natural-looking bone. “At least it’s a fairly short-lived spell,” he said.

“Look out!” Tarrel’s shout of warning came too late. A beam of crackling black energy struck the gnome, and he fell to the ground, pale and shaking. The half-elf launched a fireball at a robed figure standing in a doorway, but the figure flew into the air, dodging the blast easily and landing at the other side of the chamber. Its mocking laughter filled the air.