“Fucking Six Abysses.” Uld cursed as he lunged his spear into the undead troll’s frozen and decayed right ankle. The sharp rock end of it dented the dry skin a little. The towering undead ignored it for a moment, the thick, dark grayish fur, hard as the finest of metals, that protected Its back from the cruel frost of the north stood up for a moment.
Then he dove a few meters backwards as the ankle headed towards him with great velocity and an unhealthful dose of necrotic matter. He slid a few meters beyond the intended, thanks to the thin veiled ice covering the murky ground. Yet It focus remained on the trio in front of it, Fram, Yun and Bjartur each swinging their weapons at It.
Their aim was Its joints and limbs. Their hope was to sever Its large limbs from the body, and then finish It on the ground helpless. Yet their efforts proved futile as the undead accumulated quite the amount of necrotic energies through the centuries It had been placed as part of the trial. Thanks to that, it managed to evade the strikes while also mount Its counter against the three. Fram took the most of it, as his absent shield shattered to pieces on the ground showed.
“Let me help a bit.” Then Geirhyrien who stood a few meters away at the entrance to the large hall said. Lifted her right arm, engulfed in swirling arkharuine energies, his spears end lit up in a similar glow.
“Thanks.” He yelled while rushing towards the undead troll towering over him. Its attention focused on Yun and Bjartur who engaged with It. First, they swung their weapons at the relatively swift undead, then when it swung back with Its massive, partially decayed arms they dodged away. In their places, cracks appeared where they stood, while a few times they almost lost their balance thanks to the shakes.
His spear this time found its way into the putrid flesh and bone engulfed in the eerie necrotic energies. Said energies parted as if giving way, burned up as the tip of the spear tore its way through it. It let out an ear piercing distorted scream that reverberated through the hall and the corridors now filled with lesser undead’s unmoving cadavers.
“Now!” Geirhyrien screamed as ethereal chains raised from the ground, looping around swiftly Its arms and massive shoulder, pulling It down to towards the ground. Arrows sent by Fridr flew into Its rotten chest, tearing through thanks to the pure energies engulfing the tips. Fram swung down his blade, severing one of the arms, twice his size, from the body. Bjartur aimed his hammer at its once crude, now half-decayed head, skull exposed, while Yun’s axes cut through the mass of rotten flesh and bone at Its waist. As Bjartur’s hammer found its way, Its head exploded to thousand rotten pieces, some murky chunks adorned his beard.
“Oh shit, some in my mouth.” Bjartur said while leaning towards the ground as he stood in front of It. The last parts were dampened a bit as Its upper body slid down to the right.
“Euww.” Geirhyrien let out a weird noise as she quickly turned around to not witness as her friend forcefully vomited onto the exposed lower part of the undead troll.
“There-there. Good work everyone!” Yun complimented the group with a faint smile while he patted her back gently, or as gently as he could with his massive arms.
“Rest well good old friend.” Fram said with a weakened tone as he crouched down and touched the remains of his shield. A shield that served him and his family for centuries, since the Host of Dusk formed and raised against their slave masters.
“It served our family well, but it was only a matter of time till this happened.” Fridr said as she stood beside him, placing her hand on his shoulders.
“I know. Yet it still hurts a bit.” Fram said after he took a deep breath while standing up.
“Hey Yun, isn’t that your grandfather?” Meanwhile Bjartur stared at the statue in the center. A still pristine depiction of a mighty orkish figure standing proudly, one arm held out with an axe towards the sky.
“Yeah. And this troll was the one that brought him down decades ago.” Yun pointed at what remained of the undead troll after his beloved stopped making noises unbecoming of her.
“So in a sense we avenged him?” Bjartur asked with a smile.
“You could say. But with the spells of the Nightscale, this troll will stand like nothing happened in a few years. Maybe even less than a decade.” Yun said while poking the rotten lower part of the troll with his toe wrapped in layers of clothing and armor.
“Now, if everyone feels refreshed, let’s move on before setting camp up.” After he took a look at everyone he said and they continued on straight towards the wide gate behind the statue. With slow, careful steps, made their way down the steps.
**
The sweet scent of the river always felt nice to me. Just like on that day. I watched my little self, crouching in front of a snow blanketed bush, picking off luminous berries into the basket mother gave me. A sweet tune escaped my lips in sweet tones and rhythms as I released the berries locked between my small, frail fingers. Yet I could remember I was much older even back then.
I found my attention fixated on beyond the boundaries of trees and bushes. My fists curled up, and I could feel spells forming in my head subconsciously as the leaves started rustling gently, yet carrying a hidden menace. The whistling stopped abruptly, my little head jolted up in the same direction as hers. With small steps I got further and further away from the bush while carrying the basket with eloquent design made by mother. Yet I don’t remember holding it, or even being sent out to collect berries.
A stench of death started permeating the air, both of my faces contorted slightly. Footsteps reached my ears from both the direction of the deep and from beyond the forest whence home lied.
Two figures, smaller than me but also taller stepped out from the snow covered flora. Their dark figures contrasted the surroundings. Muinonnians, avian monsters that evolved from ravens. They are native to our lands, as they are necrotic beings whom similar to the undead, crave for death and to send souls to the Carrier of Not Ever, a former deos who chose the side of the maddened Solemn King as mother told me centuries ago. A former deos whose role was to be a messenger, the first thing the great saw before they met their end, telling them their impending doom could never be halted – even for a moment.
Their long heads covered in something between fur and feather, reminiscent of the sky at the darkest hour of the night. Beaked heads that appeared to be of murky bone, eyes dark and red as dried blood. Hands ended in unnaturally sharp claws clenching crudely crafted spears, and their small yet muscular body draped in the skin of some furred beast.
You should have taken it! Two high pitched voices left their mouths as soon as they opened them. Their clawed hands tightened around the uneven surface of the spears before they charged at me. Yet I remember them being dead in the snow, an imperfect ice spear impaled through their chest.
As the voice reached all our ears, fear set in freezing my legs in place. The spells that flowed into my mind moments ago, no more. My hands curled into fists and shook as fear slithered up my spines, spreading an unbearable coldness within me. Yet I could never feel such cold in all my life.
Just as they reached within jabbing distance, I swung my small arm in front of myself, water poured out from my own palms. As soon as the water hit the ground it froze with unnatural swiftness, and the two Muinonnian fell on their bellies, screaming in anger. Using that short moment, I turned around and starts sprinting. Branches low enough scraped my delicate, soft alabaster face as I jolted between thorny maze of the forest.
I felt as my muscles started burning, yet I continued on as the two creatures followed after me, quickly catching up as they gracefully navigated the thick forest. The snow swallowed my small legs with each rushed step, then the fear intensified as the sound of water flowing reached my ears. The realization of wrong direction set in, my hair cascading down onto my frail shoulders danced as I searched for a way to leave those two behind.
Her mind tries to navigate her to one of those directions, but her legs decide to continue forward. Then they halt when she reaches the river with sharp rocks acting as natural boundary between snow and water.
Swirling tendrils arose slowly behind me, silently hissing as I waited for the two muinonnian to show up. Just as I thought I lost them, the two avian creatures burst forth from the bushes and trees, snow and pines flown everywhere. And then my dear old Yun appeared as a small orkhish figure with a human child twice my size. Their arms looped around the thick necks of the muinons while they let out high-pitched screams.
As they fell to the ground, the two kids let go and slid at her feet. The young human, namely Bjartur after I recognized him – offered a smile before he jolted back up, preparing his fists then charged at the far left muinon slowly rising back up to its ivory avian feet. I felt happy, even though those two weren’t even thoughts back then.
“You know any spells Sharp-Ears?” Yun got up and turned at me asking while cleaning snow off from the fur of his thick attire.
“Yes. And don’t call me that!” I replied, my young childish and present voice merged into one with the same haughty tone.
“Good, then let’s take down that one.” Yun said while pointing his eyes at the muinon on the right already on its feet. Anger plastered on its face as it bellowed a high pitch scream.
I nodded with both my heads, then I took a weak step backwards while leading the dancing tendrils of frosty water behind myself. They separated swiftly from the river, shaped into sharp javelins as they flew overhead Yun and me at the creature.
They multiplied into four while tearing through the air, one ripped through its right arm, another scratched its long beaked head. The other two missed while Yun reached into a close enough distance to land his right fist into its right arm.
It screamed once more as the hole bent, the force from the hit damaged the weakened flesh. His fist easily went through the weak bones of the creature, and reached its vile heart pumping dark blood and tore it out with a force not befit even for orkhish children.
A headache started taking over me, as I formed a snow serpent. It quickly lost its mass and fell down into three mounds of snow, burying the muinonnian’s corpse and Yun almost. “That was awesome.” He said while panting on the ground as the arms of tiredness slowly wrapped around his head. Those words felt nostalgic, as the first time we met, he said the very same thing to me while I was showing off my accumulated marghaikos knowledge to his father.
Blood spurred out from Bjartur’s head as he kept the remaining muinon’s spear down. The aggravated creature then seeing its fellow kin passed on to greener pastures bit onto Bjartur’s shoulder, leading to another source of blood tainting his thick, white attire. With a knee to the gut, the creature managed to wrestle itself free from Bjartur’s hold, and with the blunt end knocked the kid out cold with a hit to the head.
“Shit” Yun cursed as the creature charged at me with a newfound vigor. My mind rushed through the few spells my parents thought me at the time I was at that age. In the end, my muscles grew slightly as mana surrounding me flew into them, and I grabbed onto the spear. It’s hard, sharp end cuts my soft palm open, my white blood gushed onto the crude tip refining its sharp surface. The same blood that started pouring from my small nostril as I pulled the creature closer to the river’s edge where we stumbled towards it near the edge.
Knowing the seconds, I exerted all my enhanced strength, swept the creature’s frail yet sturdy legs and tried to push it into the river. In a violent embrace, I managed to push the creature and myself towards the pristine surface reflecting our rolling figures.
“Not on my watch!” In the last minute, Yun locked his already muscled arms around my waist and yanked me back while the Muinonnian fell screeching into the waters.
“You okay Sharp-Ears?” Yun asked while I struggled staying awake at the midst of the deep aching that assaulted my minds.
“Yeah, just need a bit of rest. And I told you don’t call me that.” Both of my voices came through differently this time. My past voice clearly weak and soft, as even speaking felt like a chore. My mature one with an air of nostalgia. Yet I don’t remember where he rescued me from certain doom.
“Make me. Or at least introduce yourself.” Yun said as he let me rest in his already muscled arms. Like always, it felt nice akin to sleeping on thick pillows under the head.
“Geirhyrien. You two?” I asked once again in the same tones, while my child self forced her eyes to remain open as I met his strong, not-yet mature gaze.
“Shit my head.” Bjartur pat his head gently as he slowly got up. For a minute his eyes clearly reflected terror as he stared down at his clothes drenched in his blood. “Shit, mom will skin me alive.” As he said those words, we all chuckled a little before worry set in our hearts looking at his blood covered body.
“That dumbass is Bjartur. Me I’m just Yun.” He replied with a kind smile I never seen on any of his fellow kin.
**
The hollow steps of the draugr echoed through the vast corridor spreading into hundreds of directions like the roots of a tree under the ground. Their numbers lessened as the four of them quickly swathed through the hordes, Fridr’s arrows finding way each time she released them. Geirhyrien conjured, spread water under the putrid dead while also enhancing the sight of her friend, atop enchanting those arrows so that they honed in on negative matter leaking from the living dead.
“Watch out!” Fram yelled as an undead clad in heavy armor, seemingly moving with the nimbleness of elves, charged at the two maidens.
Fridr released her next arrow swiftly aimed at the helmeted head of the dead. But its seemingly quick reflex saved it from its third or fourth demise as the arrow found its way into its thick shield, piercing through metal with ease.
“I’ve got this.” Yun shouted as he turned back after kicking over another draugr, starting a short chain reaction. He charged after the one loose, while the others quickly closed the gap where he stood, cutting down the fallen draugr.
Water appeared from the crevices of the murky ground of dhauguun style, quickly freezing. The clash of stacked, necrotic infused plates hitting against the dhauguun processed stone floor reverberated through this line of corridor as the draugr fell. One last distorted scream left its rotten mouth filled with light bluish necrotic matter before Yun’s axes severed its head from its rotten body.
“We’re finished too.” Bjartur yelled between two breaths as he sat upon a pile of putrid corpses with a wide smile across his bearded face.
“We can continue on.” Geirhyrien said with a warm smile as Yun turned towards her with a questioning look on his face.
Their steps echoed as they continued forward. After an hour of walking, they decided to take a break before turning back as they arrived to the end of this line. As they traversed the vast system built by the deep dwarves of the mountain, a certain thought appeared in their mind and turned to Geirhyrien for confirmation.
She shook her head, conveying that no illusion magic was in place. Or if there was it was beyond her capabilities to break. What felt like days passed as they searched for the correct path, frost left by Geirhyrien marked where they were already, which they often met more than once while they searched for the way.
Then, finally they found themselves on the correct path as the sweet serenade of river flowing cuddled their ears. Yet unease lingered over them at the signs of battle. A few draugr rested once more at the center of the path, torn to pieces with claw marks decorating their decayed plates. The same claw marks that destroyed the portraits of the lost and fallen on the walls.
At Yun orders, they prepared themselves to whatever creature lied at the end. With slow steps, they marched through the vast, immense gates leading to the final resting place of Yun’s Great-Grandfather who has fallen in the final battle for the North. Where It awaited for them already, hungering for more.
