Having made a more expedient than leisurely stroll we reach the town gate.

   Connor walks up to the guard, "A wagon passed through here led by Rolt, do you know where it was headed?"

   The guard replies, "Don't know your interest but I did overhear that he was to transport some cargo to Fallton, although I did find it strange that he was making the delivery. But that is what I heard Zeena order him to do."

   Furrowing his brow Connor asks, "Are you certain you saw her tell him that?"

   He tilts his head, "Hard to mishear her loud voice."

   Sarah looks to Connor, "What does this mean?"

   His eyes gaze past her, "I'm not sure but we need to get to Master Karus. He could be in danger."

   I follow his gaze to the farside of town as it travels even further, "He is an older fellow, but I don't think we are likely to catch up with him before he reaches her."

   Gripping her staff Sarah declares, "I do know a second stage art, but I can only actify it as I get drained to the degree that I cannot maintain it."

   Speaking up Artisie chirps, "You could actify and I could maintain."

   Sarah ruminates for a moment before telling her, "The power needed once it is started is far reduced, but you'd still need to produce the spirit of both water and air."

   Meekly she answers, "I can do that, I think."

   Giving a nod Sarah stands near her, "You'll have to take my staff to keep it going." She wields her staff, "Rushing Sail." The air moves in the direction the staff points giving a decent pull forward to those within its range of influence. Sarah leans against a nearby wall unable to continue.

   Artisie takes the staff with a confused tone, "Why do you know an art meant for seafaring?"

  "That doesn't matter we need to go." Saying this Connor picks up Artisie giving a trusting look to Sarah.

   Yelping Artisie waves the staff, "Hey what are you doing!?"

   Not reacting to her distress he answers while going into a full run, "Making it easier for you to focus."

   I dash behind him feeling the wind push at my back.

   Despite us speeding directly through town, with the air gusting around us and spinning up dust, little commotion is stirred. It is the twilight hours and fewer people are about, but there are even less than normal, in part due to Zeena's crew being incapacitated. Running from one side of town to the other we reach the opposing gate.

   Seeing us pass through the guard of this gate yells, "You in a hurry to catch up with Crons and his hunt? If you are then don't bother he left a while ago and even Zeena followed after!"

   Leaving the town we keep pace and the crops bend with gale as we go by. 

   We arrive at the ring of cut trees but are too late, Karus and Zeena are already fighting. With the ground made a mess.

   Wielding a Hellion bone spear Zeena grins, "I have wanted to fight you for a while now." 

   Holding a newspaper Karus flips through it, "Your actions are inane without reason."

   The end of her spear spins being twisted at great speeds, "If you want me to do so something for you, then you only need be stronger than me. This belief is one of the few my tribe have kept from the time of giants." She thrusts at Karus.

   Grabbing a page it disintegrates in his hand. The earth in front of him throws itself upward to block her attack. "Are you taunting me or answering my question?"

   She pulls the spear back with the head breaking off, "I tell you this because I've only been bested three times in my life. The first time I was made to exile myself from my people. The second I was forced to take the contract that brought me here. In the last I was promised to help build a new nation." A point of bone grows from the end of her spear to replace the one that was lost.

   Connor waves, "Master Karus, We are here to help!"

   Glancing at him Karus yells, "Stay back!" Returning his attention to Zeena, "Just who did you make such a daft promise too?"

   The spearhead begins spinning again, "A foul undead, and to keep it I can't let you go any further and interfere with his plans." The spearhead blossoms like a flower the petals twirling and lengthening. They break off when she swings the spear launching several shards at Karus.

   With another page turning to dust Karus deflects the projectiles with a great burst of wind, "I am not the only one that you'd need to stop." Counterattacking he crumbles another page unleashing a great wave of fire at her.

   Her body grows a thick hide like that of a rhino, "I know, but I have done plenty keeping you here and my own crew from having the chance to turn on me." The blaze sweeps past her and the singed flesh of the hide dissipates. "If he cannot succeed with this amount of help, then he deserves to fail."

   Giving Connor a nudge I say, "We should continue."

   He dismisses my suggestion, "The undead is just the BoneStitcher, and Expert Crons can deal with that."

   I point to Zeena watching her plunging the spear into another erected rock wall causing it to warp and rotate around the spear's head before breaking into pieces, "You think she lost to the BoneStitcher?"

   Connor scratches his neck, "Well it did have the black goo, but yeah I don't see that being the case."

   With the staff in her hands shaking Artisie complains, "Can you two make a decision on whether to go or not? I can't maintain this for too much longer."

   Taking Artisie from him I put her over my shoulder, "We'll go."

   Holding his fist up he shouts, "Master Karus we shall go and complete the job you gave us!"

   Not turning his attention away from the fight Karus replies, "Good."

   We run further into the brush. Heading deeper into the long dead and overgrown battlefield. The sounds of fighting coming from it's center. With loud rhythmic thumps like the drunken dance of a giant paced through out.

   Reaching the commotion the wind behind us dissipates. Artisie ending her efforts I sit her down.

   The forest is a battlefield revived. Several men engage in combat with ghouls and SkeleClops. Gouging at flesh both living and dead. They fight around the presence of an immense beast. Weaving between the legs, the men shout and yell at each other coordinating to bring down the beast. The undead are silent but attack and move like they are the many arms of one monster stopping the men's blows to the enormous legs.

   The giant beast is headless and mostly featureless aside from the many great stitches that line its skin. It carries the amber cased Necrotic Eye. Upon its back are three figures. One Is Crons, the other is the BoneStitcher with an EyeBeast hiding behind it.

   Running his hand through his hair, Crons calls down to the men below, "Keep attacking the legs, Lock down its mobility."

   The BoneStitcher's face is pale and the head is bald. With sunken eyes it glares at Crons screeching, "Youu weren't supposed to be here!"

   Readjusting his cuffs Crons brandishes his sword, "But I am, regrettably so."

   The Stitcher contorts, frustration seeping from his malformed face. Taking out a container he consumes from it an excessive portion of black moss letting out a wail, "Aghha!" With obsidian skin he arches his back, like a living shadow the edges of his form become unclear. Writhing skin and turbulent musculature.

   Crons pulls loose his sword and it ignites. The Crimson flames blend with his rose colored overcoat and fill the area with light. With unease he states, "How concerning. Usually it's after I've defeated my foes that they have been turned black."

   With a hand closer to a claw the BoneStitcher lashes out, "DIE!"

   Connor raises an eyebrow, "Crons really did come out to hunt."

   Leaning on the staff Artisie points at a gaping hole in the earth, "What is that?"

   "Another underground chamber it looks like, I'd guess it was where that giant undead was hiding itself." Looking into the hole I see something moving in the darkness, "Someones down there."

   Connor implores, "Did one of Crons men fall down there perhaps?"

   While I don't know him well I doubt he's the kind of guy to leave one of his men behind, "Not likely, but it might be who Zeena made her deal with."

   Observing the ongoing fight he speaks his thoughts, "Well I guess that giant undead isn't the one she went against since it appears to be mindless."

   Descending the hole down a side that collapsed, we are surrounded by rough architecture. Improvised housing made from stone, dirt, logs make up the majority of the place. 

   Artisie following a pace behind comments, "It's like a small village down here."

   Looking at the unkempt structures Connor rebuffs, "Not one I'd want to live in."

   A form emerges from the depths, "Sooo, some made it here. two second steps. That is not enough to deal with me." An undead covered in thick black moss walks out. Much of it sits upon his shoulders and drapes down his back in spindly strings. The upper half of his face is obscured by the rot.

   Connor wrinkles his nose, "More like we can hardly deal with the smell of you."

   The same familiar stench, "This is the culprit behind the moss."

   His lipless mouth lowers it's corners, "Who said that!?" Taking a hand to his face he peels loose the moss exposing a sickly eye that peers at me, "Huh you're not one of mine. Why can't I see your spirit? The largest of beasts to the thinnest of grass have a spirit even if it is but a spark. My kind see everything that lives. So what are you?"

   The undead can see anything that lives, but not me. That might explain my unusual encounter with the last one, "They say I'm a Dryad."

   The ailment of his eye is that of wrath, "Even if there is three of you this changes nothing. I shall still prevail."

   Cudgel in hand I retort, "We'll see about that."

   [ElectroShockers]

   The cudgel grows feasting on the electricity from me. With Steels tendrils encompassing it my grip is forced to adjust for the added weight.

   [Hydraulic Muscles]

   With the hissing of artificial muscles I dash at the walking corpse giving a full force swing aimed at center mass. 

   He blocks the strike with his forearm the moss on it crumbling off to reveal cracked miasma filled jet black skin, "All that power, you're like the last person to challenge me." He pushes my weapon aside, "She was rather unusual willing to help me achieve my goal." With his other arm he launches a punch, "One in which I shall create a land where my kin can live in peace."

   Using his dig'n'hook Connor latches it onto the moss man's arm stopping the attack, "How are you going to do that? Is it by leading that behemoth to trample Lindwel?"

   Ripping the hook free he shakes his head, "No, the walker is carrying the great eye away from your kind."

   Readying my weapon I scoff, "You'll make a peaceful nation? One of yours has been traversing inside the town. Sneaking about stealing, destroying and kidnapping. We have no trust in your words." With anger in me I make the same attack.

   He in turn repeats the same block, "And humans have been killing, destroying and harvesting from my land and my kind for a far longer time. I will do anything to bring my work to fruition." Without releasing his block he shoots his fist below my halted cudgel.

   Connor fails to hook him hesitating, "That's..."

   [Shock Absorbers]

   My body stiffens as a subsurface network of spring activate to absorb the impact. His strike hits me in the chest, my skin feels the pain but my insides do not. I hardly try to evade the blow as my movement is stifled by the bionic. "Past injustices are hardly a good answer for causing present ones."

   With his one exposed eye he looks at his fist in disappointment, "The past, I don't know why I trusted that woman to keep people away when I should've learned already." Clenching his other fist he strikes me again but with a continued succession of blows following, "My predecessor made a deal with humans before and he was still slain."

   Taking the attacks I wait for an opportunity to deactivate the bionic that's hindering my movement and counterattack.

   He is unrelenting even with the shell of his hardened black fists splintering, "However, without those Heralds we wouldn't have had the knowledge to create the Walker, but still it has done us no good. What a useless group the ten-"

   "Rock Spike!" Yells Artisie holding the staff.

   The ground shoots up Between me and the undead. It pierces his abdomen lifting him off the ground.

   Deactivating the bionic I lean on my extended cudgel holding an arm against my heavily bruised stomach, "Glad I could count on someone in this fight." I say looking to Connor who wears a hood of shame. 

   You're welcome." Artisie smiles before sliding to the ground and closing her eyes with exhaustion taking her.

   Connor finally regains his wits point his weapon to the monster's head preparing to kill.

   The impaled holds out a hand, "Wait, You hold anger over the taking of a child? If you kill me then that child will perish!"

   Lowering the shovel he glares, "Explain yourself."

   With his extended hand he points to doorway with a fabric draped across it, "Take a look inside there."

   Connor pulls aside the curtain, "What have you done?"

   In the room behind the linen is the young girl that pleaded with me the other night. She lays asleep on a ragged pallet of degraded bedding. Her appearance has changed still childish but without the innocence of youth. Her hair is now black, her skin paler than snow and contrasted with veins pulsing with darkness.

   The monster that is rotten inside and out has an expression of elation that defies his situation, "I have made something new, something for which I can use to protect my dream. It is regrettable I failed in my earlier attempts. The previous older woman didn't make it through the process but this younger one did. She is dependent on this melancholic moss of mine. Which is why if you kill me. you do the same to her." He begins slowly ascending the spike, pulling himself loose from it.

   Scrunching his face Connor speaks exasperatedly, "We can't kill him, and with his strength we don't have a way to keep him subdued until Master Karus or Expert Crons finish their fights."

   You don't need a rope to tie someone's hands if they don't have any, "How about dismembering him?"

   His lipless mouth has the sharpest corners, "Hah, while my kind are more resilient, As we sustain injuries our miasma leaks from us, and with this large of a wound already I'm certain that it wouldn't take much more to end me."

   With clenched fists Connor lowers his shoulders, "So our choices really are to let you escape, or kill you causing the kid to die as well."

   I have to act, "Then I shall kill him."

   Connors eyes open wide, "What? You can't do that, the kid. Didn't you say about not causing further injustice?"

   Is this the right thing? I promised that if trouble brewed, I would always tip the pot no matter the mess, but how can I really carry out such a fate to a little girl?

   Having made progress a fourth of the way off the spike he snickers at my hesitancy, "Don't want to be made a hypocrite?"

   Steeling my resolve I rebuke him, "No, what I said was a critique for how you were justifying your actions. What I do now is for a promise I made to act no matter the outcome. I will kill you and save the girl. My actions may create messes, but I shall strive to always clean them up." I raise my cudgel high.

   With a closed brow Connor yells "I cannot let you go and doom that girl!" He stands between me and the undead.

   Flexing my grip I inform him, "From the talk we had with that older woman about the moss I had thought you would be more willing to make such sacrifices. Now move out of the way."

   He holds up his weapon. "And I believed you were the kind to find other ways to solve problems, but I guess we were both wrong." Taking the hook he snatches my cudgel pulling it down to the side.

   Holding firm, as he wrenches, I release my grip when I feel he is using the most of his strength.

   The sudden loss of tension against his pull causes him to stumble back tripping over some rotten debris.

   Charging forward I push my hands together and pull them apart repeatedly to generate powerful arcing sparks.

   Rolling to his feet he guards with his weapon, but upon seeing my arcing hands he switches to holding out a single palm. Like a gesture saying to go no further.

   Retracting my arms, I spring them forward past his outstretched palm. My fingers unleashing shocking currents in the rapidly closing space between us.

   He flexes his palm, and an invisible energy moves out from it and into my chest.

   Before I can completely close my hands around him to create solid contact, I am thrown back. The blow is agonizing with strength on par to the undead's, but without my bionic defenses protecting me. The hell was that? 

   With disdain in his eyes he clenches his hand, "My aspect is impact, and I won't hesitate to use it since you show no hesitation using yours."

   Putting pressure against my sternum with the back of my hand I breath heavily. I think he cracked a rib, it would be so much nicer if my pain dulling bionic still worked. Bionics, I've been limiting myself on using them in front of others. The other two are passed out and that monster won't be around much longer if I am successful, so it's pretty much just me and him. "Yeah no hesitation."

   [Proton Nullifier]

   The light around me dies, the shadows consuming even more of space down here. Stretching several meters out from me is a field of darkness.

   [Night Vision]

   The darkness while powerful is imperfect and the bits of light that pass through become visible to me.

   Guarding with his weapon Connor turns his head side to side having been robbed of his sight, "What in the hell pit is this?"

   The lightless lightning between my hands sizzle and scream, I strike at him.

   Without his sight but still having his hearing he swings his hook in the direction of the electric sounds.

   Standing to the side I let him swipe at my hands as I pull them in and around his attack towards his body.

   Hit with the energy his body spasms and he releases a stuttering cry, "egegege" collapsing to the ground with broken breaths.

   I quickly withdraw my hands attempting to not cause excessive injury. Pausing I tense waiting to see if he rises.

   He doesn't.

   Leaving him I approach the spike,

   From behind me he mumbles, "You can't..."

   Looking back, I see him in the same position. 

   Still pulling loose from the spike, the undead's progressed enough to have only a quarter left to go. Although he can't see me, he gazes anyways at the sound of my footsteps. His voice mockingly cold, "Here to finish this? What a soulless one you truly are." 

   Picking up the cudgel it eats up my electricity becoming a heavy mace of a weapon again, "I'm just tipping the pot." I raise it high and bring it down fast smashing his head into a deep caved shape.

   His limbs go limp the moss slugging down along them.

   Deactivating my bionics, I sit on a rock among the ruined rubble. Gritting my teeth in aggravation and pain. How the hell am I going to carry back three unconscious people and a tattered stinking corpse?