Hells wardens, p.52
Hell's Wardens, page 52
part #14 of The Wandering Inn Series
The black-boned skeleton peeked over the ridge. She was under the effects of so many concealment spells she wouldn’t have been visible anyways, but even so, it was style.
“Ijvani, cease peeking and keep your vision still.”
“Yes, Master.”
The black skeleton wilted. The voice in her head was Az’kerash’s. The Necromancer was watching through her mind. Like Ijvani, he was simultaneously listening to multiple inputs at once, watching through a fixed [Scrying] spell as Ceria argued with Master Reikhle about being allowed to sit in chairs. The Gnoll didn’t mind that, but he drew the line at a table and drinks and snacks. They were on watch, not relaxing!
Across the Bloodfields, Hauntgheist and two other teams were approaching the Bloodfields, getting ready to measure the effects of the spores and the range they might be blown. Az’kerash observed everything, as well as listened to Isceil grouse.
He was also keeping himself busy. In his study in his hidden castle, the Necromancer had split his mind to divide his focus. But managing four or five inputs was trivial. So he devoted the rest of his attention on a scroll in front of him.
He was scribing a spell as well. Beza had given him the thought. But the [Spellscribe] would have wept to see the difference in the quality and scale of the spells both were scribing. Her [Stone Skin] scroll, being written on the finest parchment with gemstone ink was nothing to the black scroll that seemed to suck in the light, being inscribed with glowing dust that shone like the moon.
Az’kerash couldn’t even use a quill; he was melding the dust into the scroll, forming the basis for a spell. And even he had limits; scroll scribing wasn’t his talent, so creating a scroll of [Greater Teleport] was beyond even him. Even so—this scroll would sell for maybe a hundred thousand gold coins on the market. Or a few; Az’kerash didn’t pay attention to the market for Tier 6 spells.
It was mindless work, really. Something to keep him occupied. Not like the focused creation of new undead he was normally consumed with, or the machinations that kept him abreast of the world, finding new sources of power. Really, he was focused mainly on the Wistram [Mages] and the Horns.
And Ijvani did not understand why. She was happier than she had been, to have her master directing her personally for so long. But why today?
She had to ask. The skeleton mage sent her thoughts to her Master, not bothering with verbalization.
“Master, why am I here? I have kept the [Mages] under observation. But why is today important?”
As she thought, she prodded the little, quivering ‘heart’ in her ribcage. The Healing Slime quivered away from her, which was fun. Az’kerash thought absently, his words appearing in her head with perfect clarity. Conveying more than mere words, in fact. Image, intention, emotion—it was all part of it.
“Because of the communications within the Ullsinoi faction. And the larger debate that occurred in Wistram yesterday, Ijvani. I was not…privy to the communications within the [Illusionist] factions. But other factions in Wistram are less talented. Montressa du Valeross’ mission to pursue Pisces Jealnet will be rescinded today. And his bounty will be mitigated. Not erased.”
The skeleton nodded, then remembered to keep her vision steady. Montressa was not aware of this fact yet. In a thoughtless way, Ijvani looked forwards to her anguish. But then she had another thought.
“Master.”
“Ijvani, you are testing my patience.”
“I am sorry, Master. But why does it matter for me to stay here, then? If the [Mages] are unable to pursue this Pisces…”
Az’kerash looked up from his work on the scroll. And Ijvani saw/felt his bitter smile. The Necromancer rose, and focused on Pisces, standing together with Ksmvr as the adventurers began helping the workers. He nodded to the image in his mind. And Ijvani felt…
“Because they do not forget. Because she will not cease. No matter what happens, they will drag him down. Watch, Ijvani. Wait for my signal.”
Az’kerash stared at Montressa’s hunched back. And Ijvani felt another image flash in her mind. It looked like Bea’s face. But alive. Turning away.
A [King] sat on his throne, pointing down with a shaking finger—
Az’kerash’s mind closed abruptly. Ijvani nodded, shaken.
“Yes, Master.”
She grabbed the Healing Slime as she waited. Motionless. In her jaw, the [Blackfire Fireball] waited. Az’kerash sat down and resumed work on his scroll. But—impatiently. His three Chosen, peeking at him, saw him pause to address Ijvani every few minutes. He was waiting. But he was certain. Because he was waiting for something, and it would matter not at all to his grand schemes. But it mattered to him. So the Necromancer waited and watched with his minion.
This day.
——
“We have to help carry all this crap?”
Walt’s outraged voice rang across the groups of sitting and chatting adventurers. Ceria looked up. The leader of Ensoldier Shields was one of the people conscripted for work. Many of the adventurers, like Kam, the [Bow Rider], weren’t obligated to work, not having particularly useful Skills or builds. But some, like Walt, were good for sheer labor.
Ceria watched as the burly adventurer was shouted into working by Master Reikhle. She was relieved not to be working. And indeed, no one in her team had been conscripted. Yvlon and Ksmvr were surely candidates, but perhaps this was a silent reward from the surly [Master Builder].
If so, Ceria enjoyed it. She sat back in her chair and looked around. Pisces was standing, talking to a group of adventurers with Yvlon as Ksmvr practiced shooting with Kam. It was relaxed, but Ceria’s ears perked up as she listened to Pisces talking.
“Yes, I have met other [Necromancers]. A cult, in fact. I have no inclination to associate with them.”
“Criminals exist in every class.”
Yvlon put in. She was glaring at the adventurer who’d asked Pisces the question. Kam raised her hands.
“Obviously! I was just wondering.”
The half-Elf rose, a bit wary. Pisces was at the center of attention again. Like the inn, his actions of yesterday had earned him wary recognition. But with it had come the questions. They weren’t—accusatory. But adventurers and workers alike wanted to know more.
And the [Necromancer] was answering them, politely. But Ceria thought she could see some tenseness in Pisces, under his polite, open façade. She came over and Alais turned towards her. The [Aeromancer] hesitated. Then she nodded at Ceria with a smile.
“You know, that ice chariot of yours was something yesterday, Ceria!”
“Useful. And it’ll help out a lot with scouting. Far better than walking like my team has to do.”
Stan agreed thoughtfully. Ceria smiled.
“Well, it’s only possible with Pisces’ horses. Undead horses don’t mind if their legs break.”
The adventurers laughed, some awkwardly. They turned back to Pisces and Ceria saw more adventurers were keeping back, listening, but not part of the conversation. She looked at Pisces and saw he knew it too. But the [Necromancer] was smiling.
“If I could conjure more horses, I would, Captain Stan. But they can’t be controlled by anyone but me.”
“Pity. I’m footsore from walking. And I’m not as young as you children!”
Stan smiled around. He was in on it too, from the way he was making people laugh, relax. Yvlon smiled as she drank from a water flask.
“Still better than Ceria.”
“Hey, Yvlon!”
“Am I telling lies, Ceria?”
The half-Elf spluttered, but she was glad for the laughter. It took some of the attention off Pisces. But they were going to keep asking questions.
And—it was actually Yvlon who glanced at Pisces. Then she hesitated, adjusted the gauntlets on her arm, and nodded at the workers.
“You know, Master Reikhle should really be coming to Pisces, not Walt or his team. The Ensoldier Shields and all our [Warriors] can lift, but Pisces could conjure a dozen skeletons and have them work twice as fast as even a low-level [Hauler]. Right, Pisces?”
The light conversation died as if Yvlon had stuck her sword through its heart. Every eye turned to Pisces. He was looking at Yvlon. But she had the same look as yesterday, when she’d suggested the ice chariot. And she looked at Ceria and then nodded at Pisces.
And he? He hesitated.
In his study, Az’kerash sat up. And he saw Pisces nod at Yvlon Byres.
“That is…correct, Yvlon. I had considered it, but I think it would be imprudent to use undead.”
“Why? You did it at Albez. That’s how we managed to clear all the dirt and get to the treasure by ourselves, Alais, Stan.”
“Really? And you’d conjure…undead?”
Alais looked at Pisces. Yvlon shook her head.
“Animate. He has the bones for it.”
“From where?”
Someone laughed nervously in the back. No one else did.
“Bandits. Ksmvr killed a bunch of them. I saw Pisces recovering the bones myself. And I’d swear on truth spell it’s just bandit bones. Is that a problem?”
The armored woman spoke coolly, looking around. A Drake adventurer coughed.
“So long as it’s Human bones.”
Some chuckles. But the other adventurers were just waiting. Stan leaned on the table the adventurers had taken from Erin’s inn.
“So, these skeletons would be under your control, Pisces?”
“Perfectly. I would be watching them. I could set them to a task, but they wouldn’t deviate so long as I maintain direct control.”
“And what can they do better than the [Workers] here?”
“Run? They don’t get tired, Kam. Think about it. They’re not as strong or as tough as we are, but they can work all day. Go on, Pisces, show them.”
“Yvlon, I don’t believe—”
“Show them.”
Ceria stared at Yvlon. But the woman’s face was clear, knowing. Pisces hesitated.
“One skeleton?”
“It’s not like it’ll go out of control.”
Ceria’s heart was beating far too fast as Pisces hesitated. But he undid the drawstrings on the bag of holding. The adventurers drew back in a wide arc, all save Yvlon and Ceria and Ksmvr. As the bones spilled from the bag of holding and rose, they tensed. When the glowing green flames appeared in the sockets, a few half-drew their blades. Yvlon looked around.
“It’s one skeleton. I could beat one of those with a beer mug. Old Stan might have trouble, but the rest of you?”
That put their backs up. One of the Human Captains laughed, but shakily.
“I could kill a group with a fart.”
“I’d believe that.”
A Gnoll growled. There was a quick punch, laughter. But still, it was Stan who approached first. He warily waved a hand in front of the skeleton. It didn’t move. Stan reached out and touched it.
“Gaah!”
Ceria shouted. Stan leapt back. Everyone looked at the half-Elf. She scratched at one arm.
“Cramp.”
“Damn it, Ceria!”
Stan swore at her. The half-Elf laughed. And that did it. A few more adventurers approached. One prodded at the skull as the skeleton stared forwards, unmoving.
“Dead gods, I’m creeped out. And it won’t move?”
“Not so long as I control it.”
“I can just imagine it turning and going for me—”
“But it won’t.”
“Are you sure?”
Yvlon glared at the Drake.
“It’s not even got a weapon.”
“Well, if it grabs mine—”
One of the Gnolls ignored the debate. She knocked on the skeleton’s head thoughtfully, then tried to pry it off. It came loose, and the skeleton collapsed. The Gnoll paused.
“Oops. Can you—”
The skeleton jerked back upright, and the Gnoll swore, retreating. Then she laughed.
“It’s not exactly strong, is it? How could this thing outdo our [Workers]?”
“Well, they could gather stones, drag all the heavy stuff rather than put it on wagons or have our [Haulers] do the job. And they don’t get tired, so they can go full-speed. For skeletons. Go on, Pisces. Show them.”
“With what?”
“Well, if we gave it a bag of holding…”
Stan was rubbing his chin. He eyed the workers, who were hauling pieces of stone to lay a foundation. Reikhle was overseeing the mixing of some kind of cement or mortar that would form a sturdier section of the road. It was backbreaking work.
“Can a skeleton pick up stones? They’re not that smart.”
“The, ah, intelligence of an undead like this is limited, but they can do so. I haven’t put them to this specific task, but this skeleton should be capable of it. Shall we test it out?”
Pisces looked around. The adventurers murmured.
“Why not?”
“Should be interesting.”
They followed the skeleton over as Pisces pointed. It began picking up stones at the base of the foothills. After a moment, someone looked around.
“It needs a sack. Hold on.”
“Yeah. It—it certainly beats having to pick all that up yourself, right?”
“Right. But—”
“What if there were six? Do they need to stop?”
“Never.”
“Never. You’ve seen undead, Ovelel.”
“Sure. But—okay, I mean, I saw a Golem once at one of those massive farms. And that thing was worth every gold coin. Never stopped working; could plough, chop wood overnight. And fight! But undead aren’t that convenient.”
“Because they might go wild. But—hey, Pisces! Can you do six?”
“Easily…if no one would be alarmed by it?”
“I mean, it’s six skeletons. And his farts…”
There was an odd mood in the air. Something was happening. Something that wasn’t magical. Or if it was, it wasn’t a kind Ceria could conjure. It reminded her of Erin. And it was spreading. The adventurers stood back warily, watching, commenting. But then there were six skeletons. And they picked up stones, loading them into a sack. And they were just…working.
One picked up a pickaxe and the wary adventurers stood back. But all the skeleton did was hit the stones with it. Clumsily; it didn’t have the exact finesse of a [Miner]. But it could get the pointy end in the right place, breaking up weak rock. And if you watched it, saw how Pisces calmly made them move…
It took Master Reikhle a good twenty minutes before he noticed the commotion. Then, the approaching group of eight skeletons, carrying huge sacks. The workers stopped, and the Gnoll stormed over.
“What is going on here?”
He stared at the undead, his fur standing up on end. But they just trooped past and unloaded their cargo. Workers sprang aside, cursing, and backed up, grabbing at improvised weapons. But the skeletons neatly deposited the stones into the trough that would form the road. They emptied their sacks, then turned, and held still.
“What is this?”
Reikhle looked at Pisces and Ceria and the adventurers following them. It was Yvlon who replied.
“Undead workers. Master Reikhle. Skeletons. We thought you could use extra workers.”
“I don’t need—”
The Gnoll hesitated. He stared at the skeletons. Alais nudged Pisces.
“That wasn’t bad. But can they run?”
Silently, Pisces pointed. The skeletons charged back the way they’d come and began grabbing pieces of stone, loose rocks, and piling them into a sack. When one was filled, a skeleton grabbed it, hoisted it up with the worst lifting technique imaginable, and ran back.
It wasn’t fast, with the weight on its back, but it was faster than any of the Drake or Gnoll [Haulers] who weren’t about to run. And it was less than they could carry, it was true. Drakes and Gnolls stood aside, watching as the skeleton deposited the bag in the trough.
“But they’re undead.”
Someone commented softly. And yet—Master Reikhle was watching the skeleton charge back. The others had already filled another sack.
And that was the thing about the undead. You could look at them and imagine them turning on you. The adventurers had seen it. The potential for what they were was there. But—they didn’t tire. They didn’t slow. And they were completely expendable. They followed orders to a fault.
Slowly, the Gnoll [Master Builder] rubbed his fur. It was still standing up. But after a few cautious sniffs, he turned towards Pisces. He nodded towards the work.
“My team can do all of that. There’s no need! Hrr. But tell me. There’s rocks to break up ahead to smooth the road. Those things. Can they use a pickaxe?”
And the moment continued. Ceria saw Pisces raise his brows. His lips quirked for a second.
“Of course. I can also animate horses. If you needed something to traverse the rocky terrain. I’m at your disposal, Master Reikhle.”
——
Palt didn’t gallop all the way to the Bloodfields, but he was still breathing hard when he arrived. Even a Centaur took a while to get there, and he did not like rocky inclines. But he made it. Just in time to hear Montressa’s voice.
“No. No. Nononononono—what are they doing?”
The [Aegiscaster] was staring down at the road. At the ten skeletons hard at work helping create a smooth incline for the road to ramp upwards. She was white-faced, pale.
“Montressa, it’s alright. It’s just skeletons. [Calm]—”
Palt reached for her. The young woman slapped his hands away. She stared around.
“Are you seeing this? They’re using undead! They’re using his undead!”
“I see it. Idiots.”
Isceil spat over the cliff. Beza just shook her head.
“Like using Golems. Don’t they see those things will take away their jobs?”
“I don’t know. There’s work to go round. And it’s not much worse than Golems, is it?”
Ulinde flinched as Montressa whirled on her. The young woman’s eyes were wide.
“They’re monsters. Both of them! You can’t trust—they’re letting him do it.”
