Dark Age Year 871
Twenty Third day of the Third month
Night had fallen, and the full moon, which would normally cast its luminous and ethereal light upon the earth under clear night skies, was hidden and obscured by thick, dark clouds. Only faint cracks in the clouds allowed faint rays of moonlight to filter through as Tharos and his companions crept through the forest toward Ozias’ farm. After about several minutes of managing to narrowly avoid several patrols of undead they encountered in the woods, they watched the main horde slowly moving toward the village of Aurelia Silva in a slow and steady march. Most of them were skeletal warriors with better armour and weapons that shined in the glow of the moonlight, along with more zombies who looked more like pale people rather than rotting corpses kept alive by dark magic. Unlike the dead of the prior night, this batch looked new. Tharos turned to his companions as he passed through another series of trees. “Seems like the villagers are going to have their hands full.”
“No shit, milk drinker,” Rayner answered back, although he was whispering, his voice was raspy, as if he was angry and in an immense amount of pain.
“Are you going to be okay, Rayner?” Cenric asked, concerned. Rayner looked at Cenric, ignoring him. “I will be fine once I get to crack some skulls.”
“Don’t worry, you will get your chance soon,” Tharos added. “And Cenric, Rayner will be fine as long as he doesn’t look directly at the full moon, he should be fine for now.”
“Don’t talk like I am not here,” Rayner added sharply. “Of all the ideas you roped into this, this one has to be the worst.”
Tharos gave a small smile. “Correction, the worst idea so far, and I know the risks and dangers of bringing you along despite your current condition. But we need you.” Rayner almost gave a pained smile upon hearing that. “Well, don’t hold me accountable for what’s going to happen next.” Tharos gave him an understanding nod. “I won’t.”
As they passed through another series of trees and bushes and crossed several fields, with a farm in view, Tharos caught sight of the main undead horse passing by them on one of the main roads leading to the village. Although there were fewer undead than the previous night, the number was still significant, possibly a few hundred. This posed a serious threat to the villagers, even without their presence. Tharos realised the need for swift action. The plan relied on perfect timing, and despite some initial reluctance from Nico to agree to such a risky strategy, it was the only viable option Tharos could devise with the resources at hand. One key weakness of a necromancer, one shared with summoners and other mages who controlled creatures, was their limited range. They had to be within a certain distance to maintain control. This range could vary from a few hundred meters to several miles. While Tharos suspected the necromancer would be nearby directing the horde, he had no precise location. However, Cenric’s recent encounters with the undead at the farm along with the discovery of a mage’s study at the homestead, likely used by the necromancer, further confirmed Tharos’s suspicions about the necromancer’s current location.
As they reached the outskirts of the farm, with the homestead only a few hundred yards away, hidden among the bushes and trees, Tharos began to sense something. It was the presence of a mage near the homestead, though it was hard to pinpoint the exact location amidst the several undead he sensed near the farm and the massive amount of magical energy coursing through the air like many strings. There was no doubt that the necromancer was now within sword’s reach. “It seems my hunch was right,” he said in a whisper, turning to his companions. Cenric stood at attention, but he was shaking, his spear and shield jittering in his arms. Rayner kept his eyes focused straight ahead, not looking up or down, but staring at the farm and Tharos, gritting his teeth as he tightly gripped his axe in his powerful hands.
“So what are we waiting for? Let’s charge in then. All this waiting around isn’t going to do any good,” Rayner said.
“Not yet,” Tharos said, calmly raising his head. “We need to wait for the signal.”
“If you think that old fool is going to pull through,” Rayner snapped back, “You’ve got another thing coming.”
“We have our part to play, and so do they. We just trust they can hold out long enough for us to do our part.”
The plan was simple but risky: if there was another attack, they would go and do battle with the necromancer while the undead attacked the village. Tharos was under no illusions that the villagers could do little to hold off or repel the undead horde, let alone defeat them in battle. They didn’t need to; they just needed to hold off the undead long enough for them to deal the finishing blow. However, Rayner was right. Tharos didn’t have much hope in the villagers following through with their side of the plan, and if worse came to worst, they could loot the village afterward and move on. But he would prefer to get the job done right; after all, he was trying to be professional. Several tense minutes passed as Tharos directed his gaze towards the village of Aurelia Silva, waiting for the signal. After a few more moments, he spotted it: a massive puff of black smoke was slowly rising up in the sky from where the village was.
Turning to his companions, Tharos gave a quick nod. “That’s the signal,” he said, drawing his sword and shield before bolting for the farmstead. All three of them moved from the treeline and made their way towards the homestead, crossing through some untilled fields and passing through empty pens. Tharos began to feel something beneath his feet. He took a moment to pause, signalling his companions to stop. As he came to a stop, he started to feel the soft soil beneath him rumble and quake. It was at that moment that Tharos began to sense the undead, many of them underneath, quickly tunnelling up. “Underneath us, watch your feet,” he warned. Bursting from the untilled soil were many zombies, their dirt-covered limbs and rotting faces flailing out as they tried to grab onto Tharos or his companions.
Tharos slashed wildly at the few zombies that made a beeline for him, cutting through several of them with a single sweep of his sword. However, he wasn’t quick enough as there were too many. Very quickly, he found himself overwhelmed by the relentless undead. Zombies began to grab at his legs and pull him under. He fell down, hitting face-first into the dirt. The untilled soil, rich with earthworms, covered his vision in a blur of dark browns and blacks as zombies started to pile on him, trying to rip off his armour and chew on his flesh. Struggling with all his might, Tharos tucked in his legs and, with a quick twist and backflip, managed to get to his feet. With a swift flick and reach of his arms, he grabbed his sword and sliced through the few zombies that were beginning to dog pile him. As he did, another zombie reached out to grab him, its outstretched and rotting arms reaching for him.
Tharos swiftly bashed the creature straight in the head with his shield, causing its head to almost split in half. He then finished it off with a quick swipe of his blade, cutting it longways down the middle and splitting it into two even chunks. As he did so, he shot a look of disgust at the zombie and spat out the small handful of dirt that had entered his mouth. Turning his attention to his companions, Tharos saw both of them engaged in a desperate struggle to fend off their assailants who were trying to drag them down. Rayner was hacking and slashing around him like a whirlwind of death, with steel, flying limbs, and broken bodies littering the ground before him. Meanwhile, Cenric, in a panicked fury, struck at every zombie that came near him, splitting their skulls or hacking into their chests and kicking at the ones trying to pull him down with his boots.
As more zombies swarmed around them like ravenous locusts, Tharos prepared to join the fray and assist Cenric and Rayner. However, before he could act, he caught a glimpse of a bright shimmer and sensed something massive approaching. He quickly turned around, shield raised, just in time to deflect several large bone spikes that would have struck him in the chest. The spikes pierced through his metal shield, causing it to burst into splinters and leaving his left arm injured with bone protruding from his face. Tharos swiftly checked his arm and face for injuries, feeling only a slight icy sensation followed by a rush of warmth as blood flowed from the wounds. It had been a while since he had been hurt, but he remained focused on the battle at hand.
Looking at his new foe, Tharos saw a massive creature roughly ten to twelve feet tall, made out of rotting flesh and bone. It resembled an obese old man with a distended jaw, rows of sharp serrated teeth, a swollen belly with long tendrils sprouting out of it, and bone spikes on its back. It was another flesh golem, but different from the others encountered the previous night. Behind him, several yards away, Cenric and Rayner were fighting for their lives as more undead closed in on them. Tharos faced a dilemma: he could either confront the flesh golem and risk leaving Cenric and Rayner vulnerable to the zombies, or he could take on this new threat and eliminate it. Glancing back at Cenric and Rayner, who seemed to be holding their own for the moment, Tharos decided to engage the new foe. He charged forward with his shield raised and sword in hand. As he approached, several tendrils lashed out at him, but he managed to dodge them. When a barrage of bone spikes came his way, he swiftly evaded them as well. Tharos then hurled his shield at the flesh golem, striking it in the head. The shield shattered into wooden splinters upon impact, causing the creature to reel back and crush the remnants in its mouth.
Seizing the opportunity, Tharos attacked with his sword, slicing through the creature’s tendrils and severing one of its arms. Dark red, almost black blood oozed from the wounds, emitting a putrid odour worse than the burnt corpses nearby. The battle had intensified, and Tharos knew he had to defeat this formidable foe to protect his companions and secure their survival. As Tharos caught a whiff of the smell, he felt his face pucker up at the stench. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel the urge to vomit. As he was about to pull his sword out of the creature and go for another swing, Tharos realised his sword was jammed deep into the creature. Before he could react and let go of his sword, a meaty fist slammed into him. He felt his breastplate and ribs crunch on impact as he was flung several feet through the air, crashing into another zombie that was about to jump on Rayner. Knocked back into the dirt, the zombie flailed about until Rayner quickly finished it off with a swift swipe of his axe. As Tharos started to stand up and regain his bearings, his vision was blurry, the taste of iron was strong in his mouth, blood dripping from his lips, and his chest felt like planks of wood had been shoved into it. His ribcage started to knit itself together as he fully stood up. Rayner tossed the sword he kept on his belt towards Tharos, who caught it mid-toss.
“Glad you could join us,” Rayner said to Tharos, who was covered from head to toe in blood and guts. Unlike previous battles, Rayner was breathing heavily, and Tharos noticed his muscles twitching more rapidly than usual. “Not my best landing,” Tharos replied, brushing off the dirt. He glanced at Cenric, who, like Rayner, was also covered in blood and guts and seemed shaken, breathing heavily.
“Are you okay, Cenric?” Tharos inquired. Cenric nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’m okay, just need to catch my breath.” Tharos observed the undead surrounding them, noticing the flesh golem and some zombies backing away, forming a loose semi-circle around them.
“Why are they backing off?” Cenric asked, seeking an answer from Tharos and Rayner. “Because even in death, they are cowards,” Rayner replied. Tharos disagreed, sensing the approaching presence of the necromancer and more undead. “I think we are about to meet our necromancer friend,” he said. “Good,” Rayner responded. “I have been looking forward to this.” Tharos noticed Cenric’s worried expression and decided to take charge.
“I will do the talking; you two follow my lead.”
“What are you gonna do, Tharos? Talk them to death?” Rayner chuckled quietly. “It’s already too late for that.”
Tharos faked a chuckle, “Very funny,” Tharos replied. After a few moments, out of the darkness followed by several undead creatures, most of them looking rather formidable even on their own, a shadowy figure started to come into view. It stopped maybe thirty feet in front of them while the undead formed a more complete circle around them. A few undead flanked around the figure. It was the necromancer at last. The necromancer was short and slim, dressed in a fancy hooded robe that was black, adorned with runes and glass vials woven into the fabric. They were wearing a porcelain white mask with a teardrop carved underneath the left eye, and holstered to their side was a wand. With their arms crossed, the necromancer began to speak. Their voice was like a soft whisper. “So you’re the mercenaries that gave my pets such trouble. I commend you for your bravery and professionalism. But I am afraid…” There was then a pause as if the necromancer was struggling to talk, as if the words were struggling to get to them, like they had to focus was being split between multiple things. The shadowy figure continued, “I don’t know what lies that old fool Nico or the villagers have told you. But this isn’t your fight, and if I were you, I would leave. No amount of coin is worth the risk of protecting that fool.”
So, Nico was the main target all along. Interesting. But why would this necromancer want Nico dead? As Tharos straightened himself up, he noticed that the clouds in the night sky were breaking away, and the full moon would soon be in full view. He spoke up, “Well, I’m afraid we can’t do that. We were paid to protect this village, and it’s a conflict of interest if you kill our employer. Unless we can come to some sort of deal instead, where we can both benefit and don’t have to spill more blood.” Tharos said, hoping to stall for time. Under the mask, Tharos thought he heard a sigh as the necromancer turned their head towards the farmhouse. With a snap of their fingers, several more zombies emerged from the shadows, carrying a large box. The necromancer gestured to the box. “Here is a deal for you. In this box are one hundred silver talents. I will give you this box if you walk away.”
“That is a very tempting offer. But I am afraid I have a contract to uphold,” he replied, noticing that the clouds in the sky were vanishing and fading into the darkness of the night. The necromancer almost gave a small chuckle at that. “A man of honour and integrity. You remind me of an old friend.” the necromancer said with another sigh. “But if you’re going to stand in my way, then your fate will be the same as your employer,” the necromancer declared as they pulled out their wand. The tip of the wand started to glow a bright green, and the undead creatures began to close in on the three of them. While Tharos could take on the undead and maybe even the necromancer, his companions wouldn’t be able to do much. Cenric was getting tired, and Rayner’s current state was about to become precarious not just for the necromancer but for all of them as well. Tharos noticed that the full moon was now in full sight. He gave a small smile, turned to Cenric, and gave him a knowing nod. This was what Tharos had been waiting for. Though risky, the benefits outweighed the risks.
“That is rather unfortunate, however,” Tharos said, looking at the necromancer with an almost smug grin. “I still have one trick up my sleeve.” Tharos turned towards Rayner with a knowing and almost apologetic look on his face. “Rayner, doesn’t the moon look pretty tonight?”
Rayner gave Tharos a troubled look, a rare expression on his face. It was the look of someone who was about to do something they didn’t want to do but had to do it anyway. “Well, milk drinker, you can’t blame me for what is about to happen. But at least…” he said with a toothy smile. “I get to rip this mage’s head,” he said to the necromancer. At that moment, he stared up at the full moon, now clear in the night sky. Its light reflected in his bloodshot, ice-blue eyes. As Rayner looked up at the moon, both him and Cenric slowly moved behind him, knowing what was about to happen. Rayner bathed himself in the moonlight, while Tharos and Cenric watched as in mere seconds Rayner started violently shaking and twitching, becoming more violent with every passing breath as if he was convulsing. He started to get bigger and wider, and they noticed his body hair was becoming thicker, covering his body like a thick mat. Then they heard the creaking and cracking of his bones as his body started to contort and twist itself, with his clothing and armour starting to rip at the seams. His nails were becoming claws, his mouth and jaw were extending, with a wolf-like snout. At this point, the necromancer realised what was happening as they looked at the full moon in the sky and then back at Rayner. Although Tharos couldn’t read their face due to the mask they wore, he could sense the fear and realization of what was about to happen.
He then saw the necromancer point their finger at Rayner. “Kill the Lycanthrope.” the undead started to swarm Rayner, with a few of them making a beeline for himself and Cenric. As they both readied their weapons, the undead that were in striking distance of Rayner were pushed back as Rayner erupted into an explosion of gore, with skin, bone, and pieces of flesh strewn about in a circle. Standing in his place was no longer the man called Rayner. Instead, a large bipedal blend of man and wolf stood at around eight feet tall with fur as red as blood, fangs, and claws the size of small swords. The creature stood up and howled a mighty howl before leaping upon the undead creatures, ripping and tearing through them like a scythe through a field. While the undead were busy fighting the werewolf, Tharos had never seen a Lycanthrope in action before. If there wasn’t a necromancer to kill and a village to save, he might have just stood there to watch, but he couldn’t afford to. As he scanned the hurricane of change unfolding before him, Tharos noticed the necromancer was using the chance to run away before Rayner could get to them, his claws tearing through undead flesh with ease. Tharos wouldn’t let them escape. They had to end this quickly before the main horde arrived or before Rayner was overwhelmed. So, Tharos and Cenric gave chase. However, little did they know, this fight was far from over.
