Charred Lands, Charred Souls

lukeminherexx · March 2014

"Although the Blacklake District stands largely intact in the wake of the various disasters that laid Neverwinter low, those who inhabit the district have violently resisted Lord Neverember's plans to resettle it. The Nashers, the more violent faction of the anti-Neverember Sons of Alagondar, have claimed the area for themselves, daring Neverember's soldiers and mercenaries to try to take it from them by force."

The mage stood watching the carrying ons of the gang below. The roof he stood on once belonged to family, or their servants, or maybe it was a shop at one time. Who could tell? It was a husk of a place, on the edge of a thick black lake that barely a boat could glide over.

"There, that one," Hughe pointed, and a figure that none would hardly notice stood up. It seemed the shadows wrapped about him, but in truth he merely knew where to stand to keep himself in those very shadows.
The rogues eyes flowed to where the wizard pointed, and he saw a large husky man pointing and giving orders to others. They were moving crate around the docks, no doubt stolen goods, quite possibly, stolen goods that were already stolen.
A smile crossed his handsome face that even the blonde mustache could not hide. Tying his hair back and dropping his hat at the feet of the mage, he simply gave a nod, and was gone. Chance LaRue would almost seem magical himself, if Hughe did not know better. He was simply the best at what he did.

It wasn't a long trip, but being bound and a rough sack put over ones head made it seem to be much longer than it was.
"I'm a Nasher, you idiots, and you know how much you will pay when they figure on who it is what kidnapped me," he yelled, hoping others would hear him without him crying for help. Unfortunately all he heard was crickets and night owls. By the smell they were moving through the swamp, and by the feel of the road, it was not a well used path.
"Aren't you going to answer me," he asked, but just like the many times he asked before, no one did. The best he could tell was that he was on a cart, not a wagon. He remembered stepping behind a building near Black Lake docks to relieve himself, but suddenly found himself tied up like a hog. Several times he tried to struggle but to no avail. The knot growing on his head told him that whoever took him had knocked him out.
"Well you're a coward and a sissy boy to take a man like this. Face me face to face you priss. I have stepped on goat dung tougher than you," he hollered, but only then began to realize his voice was not carrying.

Chance, who was riding a well groomed and taken care of stud from Waterdeep, looked into the cart, and could see the man thrashing about, but could not hear anything from him.
"So that spell stuff you put around the cart only effects whatever is in the cart," he asked, looking to Hughe.
Hughe nodded, but did not elaborate further. Chance was good at what he did, and Hughe trusted his friend, but Chance was no mage.
Hughe road the horse that pulled the cart as they went through the swamp to the cemetery. It was actually a dangerous entrance, with all of the undead about. He would love to thank Valindra personally for all of the ill that has befallen the place, but alas, scores of armies have not been able to defeat her.
While Hughe was pondering all of the things he would love to do to Valindra, most requiring her to give up her secrets and knowledge before he would stop, Chance put a hand up for them to stop. Hughe stopped the horse, and looked to his companion. His eyes could see magic a mile away, especially the spell damaged eye, but Chance had an uncanny way of knowing if someone or something was about, even if that someone or something did not make a sound.
"We got trouble," Chance said, and Hughe began preparing spells in his mind to assist.

lukeminherexx · March 2014

"The area called Pauper's Field traditionally has been the burial grounds of the poor, and now it also contains many hastily dug graves from when the Spellplague hit the city."

"Just us boss," Brutus called, the hired body guard of Hughe. Behind him was Sarah, friend of Chance, and cleric. Hughe gazed at them for a moment, causing both to become uncomfortable and look away. Sarah, into Chance's arms, and Brutus looking behind the bunch to insure no one followed.
"Any undead to make dead," Chance asked with a tug of a smile, but Sarah shook her head.
"There was one, poor thing, but I put him back to rest," Sarah said with genuine concern.
Hughe rolled his eyes, then nodded. He didn't care how much compassion was shown when clearing the path, he was just happy that it was cleared.
As they approached the breach in the wall that surrounds the field, Hughe nodded to Brutus to grab the gang member from the cart.
"This should be the Paupers Field, and should be pretty empty at this time of night. Even the guards and clerics prefer the day to the night out here," Hughe said, and motioned them to a small crack in the cement wall. It was just enough for a body to move through, and the big fighter had some trouble maneuvering the prisoner through it.
For his part, the Nasher was being very quiet, though he did grunt and cuss some when his head hit the edge of the wall. Apparently the man understood now where he was, and like everyone else, he did not wish to draw the crowds of undead that walked about.
The cemetery was empty, much as Hughe had thought it would be. This was where the poor were buried, and of little interest to the nobles and their faction members.
Empty of any living that is.
The two bodies, because they were little more than just that, lumbered toward the group at a slow pace. They were nothing more than mindless zombies, the fodder for the necromancers and red wizards that liked to use the dead as their army. Sarah quickly reached for her symbol, but Chance and Brutus were already on the move. Both were trained fighters, Brutus being a powerful swordsman, and Chance a deft dagger user. Brutus relied on his heavy armor and shield for defense, Chance relied on his quickness and skill.
Even as the rogue ducked his opponent's strike, large claws that would cause all kinds of hurt and disease, Brutus rammed the other with his shield, bulling it down to the ground. Chance deftly arose behind the undead creature, and planted a dagger into the back of it's head, leaving it to crumble to the ground. Brutus was less flashy, instead, with a single chop, he separated the head of the zombie from it's body.
Hughe watched as the head of the zombie that Brutus slew rolled to his feet, it's jaws still biting and chewing, as if it still had hopes that a meal would plop itself in. Hughe stepped over it and continued towards the crypts of the more prominent citizens of Neverwinter.
"Grab the ruffian if you would, and follow me," the mage said, hardly missing a step.

lukeminherexx · March 2014

“The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.”
― Percy Bysshe Shelley, Adonais

"I aint scared of you, you know. I know you aint doin' nothing but tryin' to scare me, and I don't scare easy," the brute said, eying the mage with a sneer. His hands were still bound, but his head was uncovered and as Hughe looked back upon him, he thought it may have been better to leave the bag on.
A large hand came down on the Nasher's cheek, jerking his head to the side. The welt was already starting when he looked over to the big fighter, Brutus.
"I got your number boy, untie me and see ifn' I don't."
Brutus looked to Hughe, but Hughe waived him off. It was not time for a testosterone show down, and Hughe could not care less which could pee the furthest.
Hughe chose the place carefully, but mostly for effect. The graveyard was the best spot to interrogate someone, with all the noises and the worry of undead, there really wasn't many to hear them. The family tomb they were in provided even more security. It was a large one, the family having once been quite wealthy no doubt. Inside were several cement caskets, one of which the Nasher was now laying on.
"I am not trying to scare you, no, not at all. I am going to interrogate you, and you will answer my questions, " Hughe told the man, as he dug a skull and some vials from a sack.
"I aint tellin' you nothing, you hear me. My people are already tracking you down. You don't know what you are dealing with little magic boy. You think those undead out there....," the Nasher could not finish his sentence as another powerful blow landed on his face.
"Blood of a Mind Flayer," Hughe said, removing a vial of dark liquid. The Nasher looked up, trying to shake the cobwebs. "Have you heard of those, Nasher?"
The thug looked at Hughe, then to the fighter. He had indeed heard of them, but could not fathom what the blood of one was worth here. Of course he wasn't a mage or an alchemist, therefor there could be plenty of uses that he did not know.
"The Mindflayer preys on brains, much like some of those zombies out there I suppose. However, they don't really eat the brain, as I understand, as much as suck the thoughts right out. They indeed leave their victim alive, but in a state of permanent infancy," Hughe explained, even while thinking it shouldn't scare this fool much, as it would not make that much of a difference.

"What do you suppose they are doing to him, Chance," Sarah asked, looking over nervously at the rogue. How she ever fell for such a peacock she did not know.
Chance just smiled over and shook his head.
"You probably don't want to know," he said, and shrugged a bit. He had known the mage for many years now, even before Hughe was much of a mage. The two had been through many cities, and many adventures, usually because of some sort of magical item for this, or much needed gold for that. Chance knew two things for sure about him, Hughe was always good for finding gold, and Hughe was always good for finding trouble. Things the rogue not only was used to, but deep down even craved.
The cleric on the other hand was finding that she may have bitten off more than she could chew, joining this company on this mission. She served her god well, and was devoted to her faith, but this rogue Chance LaRue was proving to be more than she could handle. She was sure she could settle him down when they first fell for one another. Sure, clerics share some emotions with their patients time to time, as she did when she found him hurt after an attack on Neverwinter by the undead, but he overwhelmed her with desire, and she found she could not leave him alone.
"Will Hughe kill him Chance," she asked.
"I don't suppose," Chance just shrugged. It was uncanny how the man could be so tender and nice at one moment, and so cold and uncaring about a life at another.
Screams echoed from the tomb, and Sarah had enough. She was going in and confront this affront to all that was good, that was until a hand grabbed her arm and held firm. She was about to protest when the rogue pointed to the cemetery.
Sarah's eyes flowed to where he motioned, only to find numerous undead approaching. Slow and methodical they walked, but they were not just mere zombies this time, and there were dozens of them moving as if they were determined to extract the interlopers from their graveyard. In the back of the line Chance could make out a dark figure with glowing red eyes.
"A demon of some sort," Chance said, and pulled Sarah into the tomb with him.

lukeminherexx · March 2014

"Demon indeed, that is a devil," Hughe said, a deep frown on his face.
"What did you get us into this time, my friend?" Chance asked, but a smile was formed on his lips.
The group of undead were just standing there, not making any moves to come closer, or even looking as if they actually did notice the group in the tomb.
"What do you suppose they are up to?" Sarah asked, looking to Chance, then to Hughe.
"Who can tell with devils and undead, stay back in the shadows and make sure they do not see us," Hughe replied, and the trio moved back further.
"What's going on out there," the Nasher yelled, panic was starting to set in.
Hughe sighed, and nodded to Chance. Chance pulled his dagger and started into the tomb.
"What are you going to do, Chance," Sarah asked, but it was quite obvious.
"We can't have him giving us away, and we know there is devil work going on in the Black Lake district, that is why we got him here in the first place, to get information from him," Chance replied, but hesitated and looked to Hughe as if to ask if there was another way.
"What's going on," the man hollered again, and a slap was heard hitting his face.
"You can't just kill him!" Sarah blurted, looking from one to the other. "He can't even defend himself."

Kill the cleric, little mage. Kill her, and we will pass you by this time, a voice said in Hughe's head.
Hughe's eyes turned to Sarah, even as a spell was quietly forming on his lips.

lukeminherexx · March 2014

The ball of flame hit the first row of zombies, and incinerated them beyond any further use. B'lowed didn't worry too much on that, his ability to raise more was on par with even the most damned. What frustrated and angered him most was that the mage openly violated his call to reason, something that could not go unpunished. Unfortunately, he had to deal with a well armed and armored fighter, as well as a quick knifer.
Bring me their heads, bring me their entrails, bring me their souls, he screamed, but not with his mouth, and not really for the zombies. The band of adventurers before him would feel the heat of his passion, and the demand of his honor. He even smiled when he saw them draw back some, and their eyes flow to him momentarily.
Then the cleric exited from the tomb. He knew what she was, and he knew what she served, even by her mere presence. However, there was a corruption about her now, something that was there that should not have been. If he could only pin point it, he would be able to defeat her quickly.
What was it?

Chance's daggers blurred through the air, deftly and purposefully striking the zombies in the head, insuring they would fall immediately and permanently. Well, as permanent as killing something that was dead and now undead could possibly be. One attempted to slice, but they were slow and moved rigorous. He quickly dispatched it, and moved on to another.
With armor on some, clothes on others, each zombie depicted their state and stature that they died in. Some bore swords, others clawed, but each were as dangerous as the other.
"Don't let 'em scratch or bite you," Brutus called, as if Chance needed that told to him. "Disease, and may even make you undead yourself."
The man was full of encouragement.
Brutus shattered the skull of a zombie directly in front of him, giving him a good eye of the demon, or as Hughe called it, devil, that was leading them. It was huge, and he did not directly know what kind it was. It definitely had the ability to raise the undead, as it also had the ability to scream into their minds. The one was an obvious threat, but Brutus wondered how much skill this devil had in manipulation.
Unfortunately his time to ponder was cut short as a fresh new set of undead rose, this time liches accompanied them, and Brutus now recognized the trap that was set to draw them out. He and Chance were cut off from retreat, undead behind them and around them, and one nasty devil in front of them. He chanced a look over to the rogue, who only grimaced as he understood what happened as well.
There was nothing for it, they had to move on and fight.

Hughe watched the happenings, firing bolts of energy commonly called "magic missiles". It was low magic consuming, and his skills allowed that he could fire them all day and night if he needed. The fireball was a different story. It could deplete him quickly, not to mention harm his companions. Something he wished he could fire right about now, considering that they were now surrounded by undead. The devil set them up, and was about to knock them down.
"Guide your light, Amaunator," Sarah said, and held up her symbol of power. A light flared from it, then streamed out, blasting any undead that it crossed through, turning them to ash.
Hughe looked over to the cleric, who was concentrating, until she fell to her knees, sweat beading from her brow. It took much out of a cleric to wield the power of their gods, not unlike mages and their magic.
In an instance the devil was on them, suddenly blinking into existence, having teleported the short distance between space. It stood a good seven feet tall, towering over Hughe and Sarah. The fighter and the rogue were now beyond helping either of them, a new mass of dead bodies coming to life around them.
You should have killed her, the devil said, and Hughe was not so sure it was wrong.

lukeminherexx · March 2014

Chance lopped off a hand, then punctured the forehead of the zombie as he moved toward Sarah and Hughe's position. It was hard to see how the two were fairing considering that he had to keep dodging and spinning out of the attacks of the zombies that were between he and them. However, the rogue suddenly saw an opening, as small as it was, to put him in position to help. Leaping over a sword stroke, he came back down and tumbled forward, underneath claw strikes of the next row of undead. They were slow, and lethargic, but the sheer number of them began to make it hard to evade. One caught his shirt, tearing it, even as another barely missed his leg. In the end, however, he was where he wanted to be. It crossed his mind that a younger Chance LaRue could have possibly come through without a scrape, but a fit LaRue in his forties could still hold his own. It crossed his mind also, for a moment, that he left Brutus on his own, but Brutus was young and strong, and he would have to make do with that. However, just as suddenly as he was able to turn his attention to Sarah and Hughe, a bright light shown all about, and the graveyard's night turned into day. The only thing he could see was a huge shadow coming toward him, giving him barely enough time to roll out of the way, before the light once again faded, and all was dark.

Brutus winced as the light poured out from behind the line of zombies, and then began to cough as the ash from those same zombies corrupted the air in his lungs. He didn't fault the rogue for abandoning him, for that matter, Brutus was somewhat chivalrous as well, not to mention the cleric was quite a looker. He was becoming concerned that he was not going to be able to bull his way to the aid of his employer, Hughe. Hughe was NOT the looker that Sarah was, nor was he the right sex, but he did pay well for the warrior to keep him safe, and he did not feel he was doing an adequate job at it. Those thoughts were going through his mind even as a huge shadow was plunged from the bright light to land at his feet. The devil peered at him with red eyes, filled with hate and malice, making the warrior take a step back. The fear that the creature naturally caused flowed over Brutus like a wave, the wave also bringing nausea and dizziness. Though the fighter was not about to run from any foe, he also knew he could not stand toe to toe with this demon, even as he was already tired from hacking and slicing at the zombies. What made up his mind to retreat to the others was when more zombies began clawing their way out of the ground.

Sarah apparently had more in her as she poured out the light from her symbol, although Hughe could not help but notice it was also seemingly pouring out from her. Tears were flowing from her eyes, as the sheer force of her god's will seemed to be almost unbearable. The mage had a feeling that if the sun god put anything more into that power, Sarah would burst into light. Hughe felt for Sarah as he did most people, she was a means to an end, a help when needed, or simply someone he had to tolerate at times. However, the demon angered him to assume that he would cower down and listen simply to save his own hide. No, it isn't as if it were an act of kindness to Sarah, but Sarah had saved their butts with her god backed magic, and Hughe was not likely to allow anyone to cause him the loss of a staunch ally, much less two if Chance took her death wrong. He mumbled a few words, almost as a song or a rhyme, then thrust his hands forward as if pushing the devil away. In a sense, he did just that. Even as the light from Sarah was scorching it, his magical power pushed it, causing it to fly through the air.
If the scenario was not so serious, Chance LaRue would have almost been comical as he hefted himself up, barely having dodged the devil. Even more amusing, if the mage had time to muse, was that Chance was now full of dust from the charred bodies of the undead, his usually immaculately clean leather armor was dirty and bloodied with the gore of the undead that he had slain. Worse yet, his friend's hair was matted with it as well.
"Inside the crypt," Hughe declared, as zombies clawed their way from below to block any hope of retreat. The devil was righting himself even as it chanted words encouraging the dead to creek to life. The crypt was cement with a cement floor, the undead would be unable to rise from it. Brutus arrived quickly with them, nodding behind him, but Hughe knew the problem already. There was one mad demon standing up, and any hopes of a deal was lost.

Sarah could hardly think, let alone walk on her own. Chance had grabbed her up and supported her as they entered the tomb. Hughe was heard chanting words of power behind her even as she settled on a sepulcher. The dead within could be heard scraping to get out, but they had no way to do that without some other power pulling or blasting the lids off. It occurred to the cleric that the devil outside may just decide on that, but it hadn't happened yet, and she could not move herself even though she was worried. She had channeled more power through her very body than she had ever done before, and the simple weight of that feat now made her weak. Many clerics and even paladins have done more and survived, but she was not so sure she could do more.

"That will hold them for now," Hughe said, even as began removing items from his satchel. A multi colored wall of power stood between them and the zombies outside. It flickered and winked but held steady even as the demon powered against it. "It wont hold forever though."
"What's going on out there," the Nasher asked, his eyes wild with terror now.
"You tell us, you piece of garbage," Hughe said, looking up only a moment from what he was doing.
"I don't know what you mean," the man almost sobbed.
"I have seen the markings in the black lake district. I have felt the taint, and smelled the fragrance of demon. You and yours are doing something there, and that something is what we are paid to find out. You will tell us now, or you may not get a chance to ever tell anyone anything again. That devil out there will silence you..." Hughe began.
"...if I don't first," Chance finished, moving toward the bound gang member.
The Nasher squirmed, the scratching noises beneath him marking that the undead were still active and still trying to escape their cement tomb.
"Look, ifn' I talk will you free me, at least give me a chance," he asked.
"I will do you one better, I will wisk you away with us so you can be free to be the piece of garbage you are. I did not bring you here to kill you, I brought you here to question you. Things have changed now, but I sense you are in as much danger as the rest of us from this devil," Hughe replied.
"Tell you what, what do you want," he asked. Hughe looked to Chance to continue the questioning, and he began making marks on the floor, and putting items where they needed to be.
"The devils, are they working with your gang," Chance questioned.
"I don't know much of them, but I know there are said to be some. I am a foot soldier, I watch the docks and over see the lootings. I don't get involved with the other stuff," he replied, a bit more calmer now that he knew he had an escape. It didn't matter if the gang knew he told. He was not returning to Black Lake any time soon, or ever if he could help it. He would head for Baldur's Gate and start new there. In fact, he may even go straight if the gods saw fit to get him out of this.
"We know there are said to be some, you idiot," Chance said, a frown on his face. "If we didn't know that, we wouldn't have you here."
"Oh, yeah, but I am saying even among us we are pretty sure of it. There is something goin' on, people come up missin' and some show up later looking all ghostly and undead. Others never show up again. What you may not know is that there be mages messin' with that black tar stuff, trying to see if they can make new monsters from it. Anything to aid the cause of the Nashers. We know, and you know as well, Neverember aint no king, and he shouldn't be acting like one."
"Yes, I am sure the honor of the royal seat is what spurs you on," Chance said, but the Nasher did answer some questions, even if he did not have first person witness of it.
Chance looked over to Hughe, and Hughe nodded that all was ready.
"I didn't learn this spell for the day, but I can invoke it, I just needed time," Hughe explained, as he pulled out a scroll.
"This scroll will take us to near the Hall of Justice. It is actually only for one, but with the incantation, I can take us all. Get in the circle."
The group got into the circle, Chance and Brutus helping Sarah, even as the Nasher began to protest.
"You can't leave me here," he called.
Hughe offered a friendly smile to the man, and shrugged, even as he finished the incantation. Sarah's eyes grew wide as she realized what they were doing, and her mouth opened to protest. The Nasher never heard what she said as the group faded away.
As soon as the group faded, so did the protective wall. Zombies poured in, their undead minds not caring that the man chained to the grave was screaming and pleading. Their minds were not bothered at his curses, then his prayers for help, even as their teeth bit into his flesh. They would not tear him apart as they would have if he were able to fight. No, this was a supper to be slowly eaten, leaving the vitals organs as a savoring finish. It would take only a few minutes, with so many undead now entering the tomb, but to the Nasher it would be the rest of his life, screaming in pain and agony as the rotting teeth bit into him over and over again.

lukeminherexx · March 2014

"You just left him," she gasped, unable to believe that someone she was so acquainted to could be so cold. She wasn't looking at Hughe, who actually cast the spell, but at Chance, her friend and lover.
"Settle down Sarah," Brutus said, shaking his head. "Chance aint had a choice, no more than the rest of us."
"What do you know, what do any of you know. You are nothing but a sell sword, Brutus, and I bet you have done things for money that most wouldn't dream of," her anger was evident, even as her tears were starting to flow again. She was hardly able to stand, and Chance had to hold her up.
"I'm an honest fighter!" Brutus protested, but then left it at that.

Hughe waved Chance and Sarah away, and Chance took it as his que to leave with her. She needed rest, that was obvious.
They all did.
"All of you, meet back at the inn. We will need to rest up. I will talk to our patron and give him what news we do have. I am unsure if it was coincidence that that devil attacked us, it sure seemed to have a motive. Whether it did or didn't, that is our story, as it is much more likely to bring coin than 'we just stumbled on a demon and it almost killed us' would," Hughe said.
Chance chuckled and nodded, and Brutus, still feeling spurned by Sarah, just grunted. Chance helped Sarah as they headed to the inn.
"I am an honest fighter, boss," Brutus said again, and started off on foot toward the inn as well. Hughe just watched them leave, not replying.

lukeminherexx · March 2014

Thank You For Reading!!!

dandare · March 2014

DEFINITELY GONNA READ IT!

As things stand for now: whenever I think I'll have time to... my phone proves me wrong >_>. Anyway: as a self-proclaimed protector of any positive creativity I wanna ask whether it'll be fine to post a short review once I make through your artwork

? No worries, despite my uncanny love for a good books I'm no "expert" in thy matter so I won't be anywhere negative for sure.

Trying to finish tasks at hand ASAP~Angry Neko Elf

PS: I do wonder how many peeps did read it by now? IT's good 'visually' as well so... maybe they're just too shy to leave a comment

?

lukeminherexx · April 2014

You are definitely welcome to leave a comment. Work had me away so just saw this. I wonder why there aren't more stories, or if I am just not seeing where they are? Anyway, any critique is fine with me, just keep in mind there isn't that much editing, I write it on the forum itself. I hope you enjoy it.

Sean

Charred Lands, Charred Souls

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