The Umbral Messiah Pt. 04

The guest house to Lord Menelag was quite comfortable, even if it lacked some of the more fantastical, magical accouterments in the manor. There were no magical runes that spewed warm water and there was no dumbwaiter that could conjure food from who knew where. There was just a comfortable crackling fireplace in the first floor, with a chimney that ran up to the roof, and a second story bedroom. It was in that room that Sari, the apprentice to Phenrig and guest to Lord Menelag, tossed, turned and tried to sleep through the night.

In her dreams, she was bedeviled by the sights and sighs of Menelag's niece, Charlotte, and the handsome, broad shoulders of Charlotte's husband-to-be, Tanner Seldon. Every time the dreams threatened to cohere into images or sensations beyond flickering flashes, they would scatter apart again and leave Sari whimpering in her tangled sheets.

It was almost a relief when she heard Rana's voice hissing through her whole body.

Wake up.

Sari's eyes jerked open as footsteps padded up the stairs. She started to sit up, but then saw that it was one of Menelag's servants, a goblin, who had rushed up the stairs so fast that his ears flapped. He panted, gasped, and squeaked. "Lady Sari! The manor's under attack! There's men with swords everywhere, the guards are nowhere to be seen, the-" he choked off as the door to the guesthouse opened with a crack and a braying laugh echoed up the stairs.

"Get back here, you little gobbler!"

Sari's brain flashed fully awake as Rana, appearing on the edge of the banister, peered around the bend of the stairs, then called up them. "It's a Black Walker!"

Sari had no idea how the human mercenaries of the necromancers had been able to get into the city, through several walls, and then take over Menelag's manor. Considering she had slept through all of it, she supposed that it had to be by stealth, not by anything like a major assault. But still, she had to do something. Her eyes flicked around the room, even as the heavy thump of metal shod boots clanked up the stairs. The Black Walker was armed and armored, and he paused momentarily as he saw Sari in her nithgtclothes, standing before the window that looked out into the clearing. She couldn't quite see his face under his heavy helmet, but she was sure he was smiling.

"Well, this beats the Dragons out of a little gobbler..." He started to run up the stairs again.

Sari rubbed her palms together, thinking furiously. She had to buy time. So.

She slammed her palms onto the ground. Fire, the spell she had the easiest control over, was really just the other side of the coin from...frost. Frost exploded along the floor with shimmering, crackling noise, and within a second, the entire floor was iced over as if it was midwinter and she had tossed a pot of cold water outside. The metal boot of the Black Walker thumped, found no purchase, skidded. He yelped, threw up his arms, managed to keep one foot under him, shot forward with his momentum and Sari stepped aside with a grin.

He hit the window, headfirst. It shattered open and he pitched out with a wail that ended with a wet crunch.

Sari blanched. She had meant to knock him over. She stepped to the window, looking out.

She saw the Black Walker, his neck twisted in unlovely death. Beyond him, she saw two more on the courtyard, with a third standing by a collection of barrels that Menelag had been stocking. The three Black Walkers looked from the corpse to the window. The one by the barrels drew a bow, shouting. "Kill her!"

He loosed as Sari ducked, the arrow whistling overhead and thudding into the ceiling. Sari sprang to her feet, pointed with two fingers, and sent a small bolt of fire - not enough to punch through armor - shooting at the archer. He ducked as well. Of course, she hadn't been aiming for him - the bolt of fire sliced through the wooden platform holding the barrels up over the hustle and bustle of the courtyard during the day. The wood snapped in half and the entire load crashed down onto the archer's head and shoulders, burying him in grain and oil with a meaty crunch. Sari stepped backwards, the magically summoned ice already thawing, as she grabbed her sword from where she had left it.

The two Black Walkers came up the stairs - one with a shield and sword, the one behind him carrying a brutal battle ax. Sari yanked her scabbard off her sword and tossed it aside, then shifted into a two handed stance - the point lowered. The first of the Black Walkers panted and hesitated, not quite charging her. "All right, pal," he said, trying to psyche himself up. "Show some skill before I kill you!"

He strode forward, shield up, protecting his chest and shoulders. Sari thrust low with the point - aiming for his vulnerable groin and thigh seams. He jerked the shield down - but she had already reversed her grip and brought the pommel smashing down onto his shoulder. He grunted, staggered to a knee, and then yelped as she braced the sword against his chest, hooking his arm with the pommel, and then heaved him into his companion with a twist of her body. The two came crashing down and she stepped over, then thrust the tip of her blade through the visor of the first's helmet. Blood spurted and bone crunched, while the other Black Walker stumbled to his feet, panting.

"I need back up!" he exclaimed.

Sari kicked him in the back. He cried out, tumbled down the stairs, and crashed against the wall. There, he lay still, groaning as he tried to get his limbs working. Sari stepped down the stairs, her bare feet squishing softly in the blood puddling under the first Black Walker. The Walker had gotten his arms under him and was reaching out for his lost sword.

The tip of her blade pinned his hand to the floor - not quite breaking the leather of his glove, but coming close to it. He froze.

"What are you doing here?" Sari growled.

"T-The crystal! We're here for the crystal!" He gasped out.

Sari lifted her gaze up to the goblin. The goblin and Rana were both looking down at her - and both seemed equally impressed.

"Can you tie this guy up?" Sari asked.

"Oooh, lucky fellow," Rana crooned.

"...y-y...yes m'lady!" the goblin stammered.

***

Sari dressed herself quickly, throwing on her padded jerkin, wiping off her feet and stucking them into boots. She tucked a dagger onto her belt, strapped her sword to her hip, then held up her hand. She focused and it flared red and flames flickerd on the fingers, then froze cold as she shifted her attentions.

"So, do you have a plan, precisely?" Rana asked.

"They'll be locking down the obvious entrances," Sari said, thinking quickly. "So, we head around back - hit the cellar, come up through the dinner room, sneak through the library, and cut straight for Menelag's studies and sorcerous lab. That's where he'd have been at night and where the crystal is being kept."

Rana whistled. "One almost thinks you've been in this situation before," she said.

"No, it's just obvious?" Sari asked, her brow furrowing.

Rana chuckled. "You should have seen the last lug with a sword I was oh so politely asked to guide. He thought the main use of brain was mace lubricant."

Sari shot Rana a little smile. "C-Can you check on Charlotte? I...I just need to be sure she's okay."

"I can't do anything if she's in danger, you know," Rana said. "And you need me."

"Rana, just-"

Rana rolled her black on black eyes. "Oh fine. My little cucked queen...anything for you."

"Hey!" Sari said, opening the front door to the guest house and peeking out. No one else had come to investigate the four Black Walkers she had faced. Rana chuckled, then leaned in close enough that her breath was sulfer tingle on Sari's ear.

"You liked to watch..."

Then she was gone, leaving Sari feeling a strange sense of whistfulness. She shook her head. She had read many a tale about brave warriors in impossible odds. She knew that she herself posessed the two most vital elements when it came to reversing both numbers and surprise: Magic and a mind. She stepped into the clearing in the middle of Menelag's compound, moving from shadow to shadow as she kept her eyes and ears peeled. The entrance to the cellar was just barely visible from the corner of the building she had been at, and rounding it brough her into view. A single Black Walker stood at it, glaring out into the darkness, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Sari licked her lips, then held out her hand. Puprle tingled along her fingers and she made a simple gesture with her palm, driving energies through her body.

Behind the Black Walker, the cellar door swung open of its own accord. The guard spun around, his voice soft. "What's that?" he looked down into the stairs leading down into the musty corridor as Sari stood and started to jog towards him, panting softly. She slammed into him shoulder first and he let out a single cry then pitched down the stairs, tumbling head over heels. She stumbled backwards, then took the stairs down two at a time. She got her knee on his chest as he got his sword from his scabbward. Her left arm pinned his arm down and her right yanked her dagger free and drove it up through the seam between his helmet and his armor. A gurgle filled the air and she yanked the blade out - his arm going limp as she stepped backwards, panting softly. Adrenaline buzzed through her. It felt like fires were burning at the edge of her vision. She...

She had never...

"What the!?"

Sari turned.

Another Black Walker had come to the open cellar door and was looking down.

Time seemed to stop.

He grabbed for his belt - not for a sword, but for a horn.

Sari tossed her knife up.

He put the horn to his lips, breathing in.

Sari caught the knife by the tip and threw in a single smooth motion. It slammed his throat. The horn clattered to the ground as he gurgled and choked, clutching. He fell to his knees, then sagged to the side, collapsing with a clatter. Sari felt the fire at the edge of her vision fade away as her bones ached and her veins tingled with...well, it had to have been adrenaline. She breathed out a slow, ragged sigh.

She had just killed two more people in what felt like thirty seconds. She shook her head, then hissed. "Get up. Get up. Get up Sari, get up." She forced her feet under her and started to stand. She drew her sword from its scabbard and held it in her hands, clenching her jaw as she tried to keep her whole body from trembling.

She stole throught he cellar, past large rooms full of salted meat and casks of ale. Stairs headed up into the kitchen. This was where she found the first of Lord Menelag's servants: An elven woman, dead, her back opened by a blade. As she sprawled in unlovely death, coarse voices came echoing down from the stairs.

"Can you believe, the fortune teller back at camp said I was going to die tonight."

"Uh-huh."

"When the Corpsers told me, charge a wall at night, I figured she was right. And here we are. Sitting oh so fuckin' pretty. This sure beats the Eigth Dragon out of robbing caravans in the Sherograd desert, huh?" Sari could hear the sounds of munching and chewing. "And I didn't even get a scratch on-guk..."

Sari started to move up the stairs, taking them one at a time, wishing her boots weren't quite so hard soled. Fortunately, the sounds were getting quite distracting.

"Bragg? You okay?"

"Ghugh...gbh...bluk..."

"Your face is going red, Bragg, what's the matter with you?"

Sari stuck her head out of the opened cellar door and saw that there were two Black Walkers, both with a lot of their armor removed. One of them looked concerned. The other was clutching at his throat, his face going blue, a hefty piece of mutton in his free hand. He dropped the mutton, jerking his thumb at himself, choking and gagging as his friend continued to look at him with confusion.

"Bragg, are you okay?"

Sari stepped into the room and put her sword to the guy who wasn't choking. "Hands up," she said as he froze. The choking man collapsed to the side, his eyes wild and desperate. "I'm going to save your friend's life, then tie both of you up. Got it?" She asked.

The Black Walker nodded, careful to not cut himself on her sword.

Sari held out her palm and flicked a single finger which flickered with purple light. A chunk of mutton flew from between the desperate man's lips and slapped into his comrades face. He gasped, wheezed, coughed. Breathed.

When Sari left the room, both men were tied up, back to back, and Bragg was growling: "Are you okay, Bragg? Are you okay!? Are you okay, Bragg!? What's wrong, Bragg!? ARE YOU OKAY BRAG!?"

"I said I was sorry..."

***

Charlotte glared daggers as the necromancer that preened in the middle of her library, her arms restrained before her by a glowing set of manacles made of pure ice. To her left was Tanner, who glared even harder and was restrained with even more chains.. The necromancer, with the haughty and arrogant edge of his profession, ignored them utterly. Instead, he simply took a book from the shelf, turned a page, sneered at it, then dropped it on the floor.

"Trash," he said. "It takes a mage scribe two hours to make a book and five years of apprenticeship to learn the craft, and you still print tripe like the Daemonomicon or the Necrotis Ex Nihilo..." He tossed another book on the floor.

Charlotte winced - not because the books were in any danger from the short drop. They were all the finest tomes, with thick bindings and clasps. No, it was because of the...thing that followed the Necromancer. His pet ghoul leaned down close, sniffing at the books, then prodding them with her long, silvery talons. The motion brought her rump up into the air as if she was some presenting animal, showing off the way her skintight leather outfit clung to her every curve - almost more lewdly than if she had been naked. The fact she was a semi-dead thing, brought to life by void magics, was hard to remember when one watched the liquid grace of her body, snaking along the floor...animalistic, but oh so very human in some ways...

Charlotte shook her head and hissed. "Did you really brave the walls of Shandil and the wrath of Lord Menelag to critique his choice in library?"

The necromancer turned to face her. He, like all of his kind, was sallow, with parchment thin skin and the facial disfigurment that many suffered from exposure to void magics. His eyes were cool and blue and his head had been shaved completely bald. He had a wicked hook hanging off his belt, and his voice was coarse as sandpaper. "The wrath? This wrath?" He gestured backwards, towards the shimmering wall of glittering white energies that wreathed the entrance from the library to the research laboratory. "Seems to me more like hiding."

"Hah!" Charolette laughed. "You don't know a single thing about my uncle! The only thing he's hiding from is annoying servants. And petitioners. You know. People like you."

"Charolotte," Tanner whispered.

"What?" She smirked, slightly. "My uncle, once he's done with the evening's experiments, will peek out through that caul, see me tied up, and come out with his fireballs ready and you'll be an ugly little stain on the carpet."

The necromancer chuckled. "Really? Is there no way to open this...protective caul? No means by which, say, a beloved niece might entreat her favorite uncle's attentions?"

Charloette's smirk grew more fixed as she snorted. "You're...slightly overestimating how much-"

"I overestimate nothing," the necromancer chuckled. "I know what you are, Charloette Hawkborn." He walked around her. "I know of the prophecy of the Umbral Messiah. I know, also, the antiprophecy. The prophecy of the Hawkborn...and you fill every one of those details. Right. Down. To. The freckles." His fingers started to tap along her bared back, touching each of her freckles. Charlotte tensed and ducked her head forward - trying to hide her face from Tanner, who lookd at her with confusion and concern. "Now. How do I open the cual?"

Charlotte smirked. "You're the one on borrowed time, corpser."

"Am I?"

The necromancer snapped his long, bony fingers. His Ghoul jerked her head up. Her one eye - the other was covered by a nailed in plate - glowed hungrily. Whatever order it was that the necromancer had given her, she processed it immediately, and leaped straight...at Tanner. Charlotte yelped as she jerked her head to the side, craning her head around to watch as the ghoul pushed Tanner off the stool he had been perched on and onto his back. Tanner cried out, kicking as the ghoul nuzzled up against his neck, her limber, long body pinning him down as she crooned hungrily.

"Meat..." she hissed, her voice sibilant and hungry as her long, gray tongue slid from between pert black lips. Tanner grunted.

"F-Foul beast!" he hissed.

"Mmm, is she though?" The Necromancer purred as the ghoul sat back on her haunches. This caused her leather clad rump to grind against his groin with a shockingly lewd motion. "Her body is intact and quite attractive, I think..." He snapped his fingers and the ghoul actually crooned. Her voice was soft as she reached up, brushing her very long hair back, showing off her angular features as her tongue coiled sensually between her own leather clad breasts. She reached down, hooking fingers onto studs on her leather and tugged forward, freeing her breasts. She had a complex 'rigging' of leather straps along her body which framed and accentuated her feminine features, and from what Charlotte could see, Tanner was looking shocked, gaping up at her.

"Warrrrmmm," the ghoul crooned, her hip rocking slowly.

The necromancer's voice was wicked, purring in Charloette's ear. "Your boyfriend here isn't exactly looking as if he hates this."

His bulge was obvious. Charlotte felt a confused tingle of jealousy and exitement burning through her, mingling with simple shock. "Y-You bastard..."

"I can call her off at any second," the necromancer purred. "Just tell me how to enter your uncle's protective caul. That is all that I ask." His cool fingers caressed her cheek and teased along her lips.

Charlotte bit him as hard as she could.

***

Sari stepped into the manor's great hall. This was where Menelag met his guests. It had two Black Walkers inside, keeping an eye out and patrolling for any unwanted guests. The far side of the room had several doors leading into various chambers - Sari remembered from her tour that one of them was a small reading room that, itself, contained more books than some small villages did. Menelag was wealthy and collected books with a true bibliophile's urge. Like most wizards, actually. Sari saw the Black Walkers turn their back on her and she stole across the center of the great hall, coming to the reading room, where she paused to collect her breath and mentally collect herself.

Rana appeared before her with a chime and Sari almost screamed in shock. She stumbled backwards, knocking a silver candelabra off the side of the fireplace in the reading room - having to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

"Your lover is fine," she said, cheerfully. "But her boyfriend is getting frisky...with a ghoul."

"A ghoul?" Sari asked, hefting the candelabra out like a weapon. "If you're going to be crass, you might as...well..."

"I do not lie!" Rana exclaimed. "This ghoul is special. Fresher than most. Cuter too, in a kind of tall, gangly, gothic sort of way. Stacked, as well. And her ass was tight enough you could bounce a thaler off it. And-"

"What the hells?" Sari whispered.

"Well, she was in leather," Rana said, but then she realized that Sari wasn't listening to her. "What are you fidling with?"