Lyssandra & The Return of Lyssandra
“Do you have foot soldiers?” their leader asked.
None were mounted and all tired from a hike through the forest and over the hills. Since we didn’t see them, they must not have traveled the old road. Their spears were long and carried heavy blades and cross-pieces. Any of them would easily stop an Irish boar but I thought that they were made for the dragon instead. One was already wavering. You just can’t expect a tired man to hold a fifteen foot length of Ash topped with a heavy blade and cross-arm at arm’s length for long. I moved a step and the spears followed. Good, keep them alert until they drop the points from exhaustion.
“What concern is it of yours!” I demanded. “You have no cause to interfere with my travels. Call your dogs off and be away with you! You will get nothing of value from us.”
I moved again and two spears began to waver. One dropped his butt to his foot but had to lean over to keep the point at me.
“Tell us why you are here or we’ll take what you have for ourselves.”
“I think not.”
“Then kill them!” he shouted. Lys threw the knife she was holding at him but it was a poor throw though it made him dodge. I drew my broadsword, struck aside the two spears facing me and ran forward to kill their exhausted holders before they could thrust. As the third turned to follow, Lys drew and charged and before he could recover, she had driven her estoic threw his chest, withdrew and charged the two new arrivals who backed off fast. I hacked at the leader who blocked with his axe then ignored him and chased the archer and monk, killing them both before they could run. Then I turned to the leader who was ready for me. I saw Lys slash one man across the throat and go on guard to block the last. With only one opponent, I had little fear for her and focused on the leader who was much bigger than me. But an axe is a mass weapon and made to damage armor and so is slow to recover. My broadsword was faster and could stab so it was simple to draw him into a blow, step back and rush in before he could recover. He tried and had I not been as fast, he may have been able to do some damage but I was there and my point was through his shoulder. I don’t like punching with a sword for only rapiers and small swords and Lyssandra’s estoic are designed for that but you take what you can get and a quick jab is faster than an overhand blow.
When I turned to aid Lys, she was pulling her blade from her last own opponent who was clutching his belly. Gut wounds are terrible things and if you survived the blow, infection and all those internal juices would kill you slower and nastier. She kicked his sword away and looked at me, “Amateurs! Any real soldiers would have had better tactics and killed us.”
We made certain the rest were dead or unable to do anything then I knelt to their leader, “Why did you try to kill us?” I wanted to hear Felix’s name.
“I didn’t want to share the dragon’s treasure.”
“Then who do you work for?”
“Myself. Why share with some fat nobleman who sends us to die for pennies so he can get rich.”
I said to Lys, “Well, no relation to Felix. Just some guys looking for adventure and wealth.” I looked over his shoulder wound. I had done a lot of damage with my broad blade and I didn’t think he’d live long. The brachial artery was leaking which needed stitching and I wasn’t prepared to open him for that. “Here is some advice from a nobleman who isn’t fat but is rich. In the future when you meet another group, join up with them. That way you can send them in first to trigger traps and get eaten. And if you all survive, you can always decide to kill them in their sleep after you are all safe.”
“I’ll remember that. Sorry for trying to kill you. No hard feelings?”
“None at all. We’re just professionals trying to make a living,” I said to him. Then he passed out. “He’ll be dead in an hour. Let’s drag him under cover so he can die in comfort and hide the bodies.”
We got him under a tree and fairly comfortable but I knew he’d probably not awaken and would die in his sleep. It was simple professional courtesy and I had no ill will for him or his men. But, that didn’t stop us from stripping the bodies for anything of value. We left their clothing as too poor quality and looked over their weapons and purses as we snacked under cover.
The spears were too heavy to carry easily. I’d regret that if there really was a dragon but they were too bulky and heavy and awkward for crossing the river and humping up the hill to the Keep. And once inside, they would be useless. I didn’t like axes and Lys wasn’t strong enough for it and our swords and knifes were better than theirs. In fact, the only thing of value was the book the monk carried. It had notes on the Keep and a number of other possible treasure sites. This guy was their researcher, probably the only one who could read and had been collecting information on places to visit and raid. From the post-adventure notes, some had been successful but none earned enough to retire and most barely enough to finance the next trip. These guys were barely average and were lucky to have lived as long as they did.
Money-wise, they had mostly copper and brass pennies, a few silver coins and not much else. Even their jewelry was cheap. Diane and I called these guys ‘fodder’. They were the kind of dreamers who you would send in first to die then you’d move in later to mop up the enemy who was too tired from killing them to mount much of a defense. People that stupid needed to be weeded from the family tree.
Some of the arrows were decent but my shorter Asian bow was better suited for the Keep than their six foot long bows. And we did like their grapple and extra rope was always useful so their deaths weren’t a total loss. We stashed their gear and weapons in a house where they would be found by the next set of fools and hid a few knives in convenient places where we would find them if we were caught and tied up then investigated the ford. The book and anything else of value we stashed in our packs with the horses. When we were done, we could recover and carry this junk into town and sell it to the shops who would sell it to the next group of fools who passed through.
Over the years someone had tried to build a bridge but all that remained was a series of stone pilings and a heavy rope that crossed the water. Here, the river was wide but shallow and slow so we could easily cross. “Ok, let’s rub the horses down, re-saddle them, make certain that they have enough food and water then leave them here in case we need a fast escape. Then we’ll cross in the dark and climb to the Keep and check it out while the Orcs are asleep. We don’t need to ride up that trail and if we try, we’ll be spotted so we walk.”
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FELIX, THE KEEP AND A VERY ANGRY DRAGON
We settled in and watched the Keep from cover until the sun set and as the last rays caused the shadow of the hills to creep up to the Keep, we saw a wagon make the climb to the summit. “Felix!” Lys cried and started to get up. I held her down, “Relax. The spell he is doing probably takes time and a lot of work. He also has to get past the Orcs, find a way into the dungeon, find a suitable place with lots of residual magickal energy, lay Merrick out, keep the undead from his necromancer long enough to get Merrick back. And that’s assuming that this is his intention.”
“What do you mean? His intention! Isn’t it clear what he plans?”
“Not necessarily. If he does plan to bring Merrick back, wouldn’t he want our parts? Otherwise who will follow a Serbian general who needs to be carried around the battlefield in a cart? No, this may be an elaborate trap. We’ll go now but carefully and quietly.”
We hooked ourselves and our gear to the rope that crossed the river and waded across, carrying only our weapons and clothing and pulling our gear along. The important thing was to cross silently and quickly to avoid a casual observer from seeing us and having time to respond by cutting the rope, causing our gear to wash downstream and leaving us at the mercy of anyone on the beach.
We reached the far shore with no trouble, gathered our gear, ensured that it was dry and moved up the trail from cover to cover. It was while we were planning our next move
when we heard two Saxons strolling down the path. We Irish called them ‘orcs’ which is not a nice thing to call anyone and in return they called us ‘witche’ which is equally not nice. But it didn’t matter for Celt and Saxon had always hated each other. Probably some racial thing based on Patrick robbing Irish graves to hire Saxon mercs to raid Ireland and burn our temples so Patrick could brag about how he ‘drove the snakes from Ireland’. Stupid cac capaill. These were speaking in some German dialect that I could barely understand but it appeared that they were looking for us. For soldiers hunting other soldiers, they were very casual about it. I gathered that this was common to wander down, kill the adventurers as they crossed the ford and rob their bodies. And since they only saw us, they figured that two of them could take one man and one woman. There was also something about allowing a wagon to pass by but I couldn’t understand why they allowed this.
As they passed, I stepped out, drew my broadsword and clove one from shoulder to spine then yanked my blade free as the other turned. I ducked his swing, slammed my blade into his belly and although his mail protected him from being cut, the impact bent him over so I stood and with both hands cut down so hard I near cut his mail coif in twain as I snapped his neck like a twig.
I dragged one to the edge as Lys whispered, “I thought we were sneaking in?”
“I changed my mind,” and dragged the second body as Lys carried their weapons. I’d rob them later but for now, two less enemies behind me seemed a good idea.
When we reached the top of the hill, the Keep was in worse condition than I believed. There was a central tower that was in poor condition, a stone wall that was rubble in many places. There were the remains of two towers in the back and two more flanking the missing gate, both damaged. No one had tried to repair the damage and no one was on watch.
We approached the gate and looked inside past the rubble and saw a wagon, the still-harnessed horse dead with a spear through its chest but no people. We unslung our shields, checked our helmet straps and moved in slowly to the wagon. Inside was Merrick, or parts of him. I found his body, one leg and one arm but no head. And no bag or box to carry any magickal Tools.
“Where’s his head? You can’t bring him back without that,” Lys said.
“Maybe we are not thinking the same way he is.”
On the ground next to the wagon was an Orc, a spear driven through the mail and into his chest. “Cheap mail,” I commented. There were two more bodies between the wagon and the main Keep, both sworded. Lys pointed to the wall where we saw two more dead, these with arrows. So Felix had killed five armed and armored men before they could touch him. Damn the man was good. Maybe I should have brought a shotgun or assault rifle instead of a broadsword. Unfortunately, you can’t bring modern substances through the StarGates into a time before they could exist, they simply broke down into primitive materials. A computer would, within minutes, decay into dried tar powder and loose ore and a few base metals, a stainless steel knife would degenerate into normal steel and plastic would break down to the oil from which it was made. Adventurers with dental fillings and breast implants and pins in their hips quickly found themselves in trouble as these parts broke down inside their bodies.
I looked around then headed for the main keep. Lys asked, “Why there?”
“Because Felix went that way. If we want to find him, we follow the bodies.”
Inside we found three more bodies between the door and the stairs that led below. “Eight to my two. I’m going to have to work hard to catch up.”
“Yours don’t count, you took them by surprise.”
We headed down the stairs, carrying a fallen torch to light the way which isn’t as easy as it sounds. A broadsword in my right hand, a shield in my left, not knowing if I should hold the torch high and loose the shield’s protection of carry it in my right and loose the offense of my steel.
The stairs went down the shaft until we began to see evidence of caves being walled up. All were small and a few rocks and mortar did the job but it was plain that this hill was once under water or more likely, a depression above that caught rainwater and allowed it to trickle down and erode the limestone over millions of years. “This hill and range must be honeycombed with caverns.” I mentioned.
At the bottom, we saw a door to the left and a large stone stair passageway to the right. The door was closed and barred and we saw another body on the stairs so we headed down into what was soon revealed as the dungeon. Stalactites still hung from the ceiling and where columns and stalagmites formed, the builder had leveled the floor and added walls to create a maze-work of passages and cells. We didn’t get far when the first undead attacked. It was half-rotted but still mobile after a century of imprisonment as it shambled forward. I shoved the torch into its face but it was too dry to burn easily. I dropped the torch, slammed it away with my shield then before it could recover, I split its head with a single blow. The thing went down, then started to rise again. One of those spears would have been useful here, stab and hold the thing as Lys cut it apart from behind.
That’s the problem with zombies, they are already dead. I once saw an American Special Forces Team in Iraq during Desert Storm run across a few of these. They opened fire with full-auto and sprayed 9mm rounds by the dozen into the undead. When the creatures stood up and continued forward, instead of thinking that bullets weren’t working so trying another tactic or retreat may be good, they continued to spray bullets promiscuously into the things chest even as they were dragged down and torn apart. I was much smarter than they, I used my weapon to shoot their undead knees off, then I ran away faster than the things could crawl.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t run but I could hack the thing into pieces which I did. The hands still clutched but with no brain to direct them, they were little more than an annoyance.
We looked into a few cells and found most inhabited by dead or undead, mostly rat-eaten and harmless. It was the ones walking free that caused us trouble and we spent far too much time chopping limbs, heads and arms. We were resting after one fight when I commented, “At least they aren’t reforming. They may not stay dead but eventually the rats will eat the parts. I wonder how many are left after all these years?”
“And I wonder how many Wrath created a century ago? People like us have been coming here for almost a hundred years and at least some of the adventurers must have destroyed some of the undead. Wrath must have experimented on entire villages.”
I thought about this, opened the map we had bought in Iskandar and saw four nearby villages marked as ‘abandoned’ or ‘destroyed’. “I wonder if these were once thriving villages before Wrath went mad?”
“Either that or the Dragon leveled them, or both.”
We continued until we found a shaft with a rusting ladder that went up and down into the gloom. I shoved the torch into the shaft but saw nothing either way but darkness and dust. Lys then commented, “Look, multiple trails as if over the decades people or undead would stagger here in the darkness and fall below. I don’t see any evidence of recent climbing on the ladder. We went the wrong way. Maybe Felix is through that other door.”
I wasn’t looking forward to fighting my way back through the dungeon again but we had a choice, do that or trust a centuries old iron ladder that went somewhere we didn’t know. I checked my sword edge in the light for nicks and dents but found none worth worrying about. Good steel! I had some guy who played too many RPGs ask me to take him Adventuring. He claimed to be a 12th level fighter, whatever that was, with a +8 holy sword, again, whatever that was. I told him to draw his fancy sword with imitation rubies in the eyes of the naked woman that formed the handle, a pair of dragons forming the cross-guard and he cut at me with the intent to kill. I blocked with my edge and his beloved blade with its fancy hilt was cut ¾ through wheras my plainer and far older blade wasn’t scratched. Put your money into the steel, not the furniture that decorates the blade.
So we turned and returned to the stairs, chopping four more undead into rat-feed before we climbed the stairs to face the barred door. Neither of us could hear anything through the thick oak so with Lys watching for visitors, alive and undead, I slid my dagger through a crack and managed to lift the inside bar. The crack appeared to have been widened by a previous visitor for this purpose and we were able to open the door enough to shove a sword blade through and support the bar. Then a flick up freed the bar and we were inside.
Two more Orcs littered the inside, “I’ll never catch up,” and we were on a mezzanine that overlooked a lower level that was obviously a magickal room. There was an altar in the center of a large pentagram, book shelves and tables around the walls and our prey below.
Felix was by the side, another body at his feet and the necromancer was standing over the altar which contained not Merrick but a Saxon, still alive and chained with Merrick’s rotting head next to the Saxon’s. I whispered to Lyssandra as I readied my bow, “He isn’t bringing Merrick to life, he’s transferring the mind and soul of Merrick into that Orc. That’s whey he doesn’t need our parts or came for us, he quit searching when he got the head from Erik.” Then I put an arrow into the sorcerers back. All he needed was the head but didn’t know who had it. When Erik revealed that item, Felix quit hunting us down.
The necromancer screamed, fell forward and I put an arrow into the Saxon just to be safe and a third into the necromancer to be certain. By then Felix was halfway up the stairs, cursing all the way. I dropped my bow, took up my shield and prepared to meet Felix as I called, “Take the other stairs, make certain that they are all dead, and destroy and burn everything!” By then Felix had attacked and I was hard put to keep him on the stairs below me. I had the high level ground and he was lower on narrow stairs and I wanted it to remain that way.