Dim Prisons and Drakes, chapter 46. (Patreon)

Here we are. Just in time for the next disaster, as Muse might say. 

Please enjoy. 

The potion had mocked me before, and it was mocking me now; even though this time it was a little different. To drink it, or not to drink it?

I was low. Any threat at all, I'd need to drink it. But if I drank it now, and needed it later... it could be so useful later, if I were in an extended fight and low. I could even drink it after throwing everything I had, and teleport us out, if I needed.

Decisions, decisions. The fact that it looked like a particularly bad batch of Robitussin, and glowed, had nothing to do with it.

"Just drink it."

"No Matt. I'm not going to."

"Just drink it."

"Piss off."

"Then put it away and stop staring at it. You're freaking us all out."

What? "How so?"

"You have the thing in front of your face, and it's in glass. You're walking along staring at it on rough ground and you could trip at any time cause you aren't watching your feet."

Whatever. "I'm not going to trip." I put the potion away regardless, since I would need to keep my eyes open, just in case something was lying in wait.

Which was a silly thought, since there was always something lying in wait. Even more so right now, when we were still coming across dormant undead we needed to purify, just lying around the road. Les had been super busy, and there was always a chance he might need the potion I had. Even though it probably wouldn't work for him.

Even now I could hear him groan from behind me, tracking a signal arrow shot into the sky by our resident ranger and scout. An arrow that signaled another group of undead just lying around and hanging out.

At least we weren't taking the time to bury them. We were just purifying them and moving on. More than enough to stop whatever necromancer had raised them from doing so again, but not enough to stop the smell.

Who was I kidding? We knew who the necromancer was. The chances were probably ninety percent or higher.

If so, just like we had, he'd gotten stronger. There was no way the guy we'd almost lost to before could handle hundreds of undead on his own.

Of course, he may not be on his own anymore; some undead could bring their own armies with them, and with pacts to dark powers, anything was possible. Well, anything but raising up remains that had already been purified by a priest of the Goddess of healing. The only thing more potent than that should be a blessing by the Goddess of life itself; I wouldn't know, I hadn't seen one.

It was odd really; priests and priestesses seemed to be more rare than magic users, but surely that wasn't the case?

"Quit thinking so hard, you'll wrinkle." Les was apparently off again, was anyone else going with him on this detour?

Didn't seem like it; we'd all gone the first ten or fifteen times, but we were long since past that point. The signal arrow showed no threats, and there seemed to be every intent to take five and wait here.

"You know I won't." That was mildly offensive. Elves didn't wrinkle until they were good and ready to, and I was super young for one.

"I can see it now," Les replied. "Old lady Muse, wrinkles on top of wrinkles, stooped and hunching, yelling 'back in my day!'."

"You wish. go see to the souls of the dead please. Hurry it up."

"Yeah yeah," Les waved me off, working his way out of the sunken road and into the field beyond. Already griping about the mud and darn pointy eared people.

You could tell he was still an American, deep down inside, because only Americans would bitch so much. No, there was no need to worry about him.

Or Matt either. "You know, I can't see it." My friend had his head cocked, looking at me as a dog might some strange puzzle.

"See what?"

"See you with wrinkles, of course. It'd just look weird."

Whatever. "I don't think that's going to be a problem. At least, unless we fix things."

If we fixed things, I would absolutely go back to normal. The elf part wasn't really a big deal, at least not yet, but being female was annoying. Even beyond annoying.

My friends were lucky, most of them looked the same, or near enough. I'd not encountered anyone else that had my problem, come to think of it... or that admitted to it publicly. What that said, I don't know. It was probably something to do with being another race, and whatever rules there were in place for that.

there had to be rules for this process, whatever it is. Even if we didn't understand them. If I had the time later, if I were forced to by circumstance, then I'd investigate them. The actual rules didn't matter just yet.

Now wasn't really the time to think about all this crap; we were on the clock. The sun was pushing mid-day, and by nightfall the undead would be out and about again. Just having the ones we'd seen lie there was enough of an alarm system in and of itself.

Five minutes per stop was also slowing us down, making reaching the next village over by nightfall a chance, rather than a certainty. Soon enough we would have to abandon all attempts at hurting the necromancer through his minions and sprint to somewhere safe.

Or, bunker down and sleep in preparation for the night fighting to follow. I didn't really like that idea.

"We should get a move on," Randolf informed us. Evidently I wasn't the only one. I wondered how fast he'd change his mind if I agreed with him. Under a minute?

I wouldn't, of course. I'd back our leadership. "We have time yet. Best to take out what we can before it bites us in the night."

Randolf grunted, as if he'd expected my words, which he probably had. The problem is both positions were equally good, but only one made sure innocents didn't get swamped and die. At least, not as easily. Those farms and other salt of the earth places we'd seen so far were already abandoned, their residents gone.

Once again, people were giving ground to the terrors that arrayed themselves before them. If the world were normal, this sort of thing wouldn't be happening.

It made me wonder how bad the harvests were. Luckily it was too late to seriously impact them now... at least I think. But next year, if crap like this happened, people might well die of starvation.

The clock was ticking, as always.

Les came back, slumping over back into the sunken lane, and not seeming to care about falling on his ass. "I am paying for earlier."

It certainly seemed like it. "I've got it if you want it."

Handing him the stupid potion would take the decision out of my hands, and good enough.

He waved me off. "No, it won't do me near as much good as you. I'll be fine with just a little rest."

Les had actually raised his voice for the last part, making sure Karl heard him.

Karl listened. "Fine. We're walking, straight shot from here on. Muse, signal our scouts."

If I could find them. Thomas was easy enough, but Phil had real issues with letting anyone know where he was - even me.

A wingover from Poe, pointing in our direction, and at least Thomas knew something was up. Oddly enough, Phil was plainly visible on the other side of us, walking along between corpses seemingly without a care in the world. He didn't look up until I buzzed him with my familiar, but it was something.

I offered a hand to Les, and he took it, darn near dragging me down. He seemed to like doing that.

We got in formation and set off; I let Poe go ahead, because with Matt's broad back in the way, I'd never see anything otherwise. Stupid large people. At least he could rest easy, secure in the knowledge his back was free from attack. Not that Matt didn't ever rest easy, it was almost disgusting in a way, just how laid back he was.

"The road ahead is clear," and it was. Not a single soul on it, and no one around it either. It was almost as if we were alone. As if everyone else had disappeared from the face of the world.

"Understood," was Karl's simple reply. We sped up, abandoning caution. Well, most of it anyway; we could be running.

Still, there were miles to go yet, and we would likely need to fight at the end of it, so it was best not to do that.

Les was having no trouble keeping step behind me, which was good. Ethan was doing his thing, head down since it wouldn't really matter anyway; he probably couldn't even see up past the roadway.

The trip was uneventful, save for the few times we had to step over or around old corpses. Les always took the time for those. We understood - when it was right in his face, he couldn't turn away from the evil of souls forcibly bonded to their corporeal forms.

If he wasn't here, I'd be burning bodies. Not ideal, but better than nothing.

As the sun began to set, right on time, we hit the next village. It was locked down, with wagons and carts pulled in front of the lanes, some of which were even turned over. Some places in sight had spikes rammed into the ground, and everywhere people were out and about, most of the men shirtless as they worked in the waning not-really heat.

Watching people work on fortifications and earthworks to try and withstand this or that siege was becoming annoyingly commonplace in our lives. Maybe we should suggest our village do the same, and get ahead of all this. Or maybe we should just work on it not becoming the habit it was so far.

One of the men, a true giant of a human, stopped pounding a log into the ground. Leaning on his giant hammer, he motioned us over. No one else even stopped what they were doing, not even the women ferrying water and bread to the workers.

A few steps closer and I could see the fires... there were large fires set but not lit about every 30 feet, with arrows and torches set next to them.

Next to those were barrel tops, hanging from straps. Makeshift shields? Disturbing, but a good thought. It wasn't like the skeletons at least had much muscle power. Everywhere were makeshit weapons, mostly polearms... spears and pitchforks and weapons designed to keep things away.

Made sense, since some undead you needed magic weapons to put down, and just keeping them at bay was a better prospect.

That last little fact worked in our favor. Our party had both magic and the backing of a Goddess, so most villages wouldn't turn us away in anything like the current crisis. Which made the other village even more suspicious when I thought about it, but that wasn't our problem right now.

We got close, and got a loud: "Hail and well met, strangers? What brings you to these haunted lands?"

Someone had really sipped that kool aid, it seemed.

"Seeking a place to put in for the night, for some measure of safety. We are willing to pay and work to the common defense, of course."

The man waved that off, scratching at rather scruffy beard. "No need for payment, unless for other things. As a fellow living, you're welcome here in our village of Beacon. As adventurers, you are more than welcome. As you can no doubt tell, we've been accursed recently and beset by the undead. We managed to defend ourselves last night, but we know they roam even now, waiting to renew their attack."

They had no doubt been barely touched, as it looked to me like the undead were searching for something - searching for us - and the attack was secondary and called off after it was clear we weren't here.

Still people had died, without a doubt, while the necromancer had been looking for us. That was... less than great.

These people didn't know all that. It was probably best we didn't tell them. Probably best we didn't admit that part to anyone, which was also not great.

Probably best I bury that thought again, before I do something not great in a fit of conscience.

Matt's hand slapped my shoulder gently; the giant of a man was watching me, curious but not hostile.

"Sorry, pleased to meet you, my name is Muse."

The man's eyes actually widened a little. "Muse the sorceress of Solace?"

What was this? "Yes?"

"Ah, never mind me. We've heard of you here. All good things I assure you. You heard of course, but I'll reintroduce myself: my name is George."

"It is good to meet you, George."

Apparently my other friends had introduced themselves before me, because George turned around and boomed out: "Some food and water for our guests here! Hot towels!"

He watched a moment as some scurried to do as he bid, then turned back to us. "We will gladly take you up on your offer for help and mutual defense, but first you should rest and refresh yourselves. We will likely have little time for it later."

"Prudent, you have our thanks," Karl answered for us, sitting down on a handy stump - signaling to us that we weren't going anywhere just yet. I could understand that, I liked George too.

I found a similar stump before anyone else could take it; sitting on the ground was for chumps. There was some grumbling as we all sorted ourselves out, but it was minor, and George and his crew didn't let it stop them.

"We had a break about an hour ago," George explained, even though none of us asked.

It looked like they were going for an irregular run, with broken sight lines and lines an enemy could charge, to lower momentum. Some trees nearby had been felled, some trees from farther away must have been brought in, and large spikes hammered in to stop anyone from grouping up and running in. With enough time the village could have a proper palisade, but with one day to work, this was probably as good as it'd get.

We could do a little better. I caught Les looking to me. "Might as well use them."

Might as well, we had built them, after all. "True enough," we had built them after all.

George stopped again as I stood up. "I'll be right back. I've got something that will help, if we get them on or in the ground early enough."

Karl knew, of course. "Don't take too long. Matt, Randolf, go with them.

Matt, who had just sat down at the stump I'd vacated, got back up, muttering some not so charitable things about Karl's parentage I was ninety percent certain wasn't true.

Randolf, the one I'd expect to do that sort of grumbling, just uncoiled from the ground, and moved into Les's shadow.

Weird. I moved, and Matt moved with me, stepping slightly ahead while strapping his shield back on. I guess I could appreciate the gesture. Les caught up with me, setting his pace with mine on my right side with the ease of long practice.

"So, where to start?"

"Might as well start at the road, I guess. Walk around to the right, bury them, maybe make a few fake holes so the smarter undead don't dig them up?"

"Good idea," Les agreed. "We can make use of our gifted free labor."

Oh, that brought some grumbling. Time to throw them a bone. "For the decoy holes sure, but I think I'm going to cheat a bit. If I use a minor spell, I can make a hole and then cover it over grass and all. It'll be very hard for anyone to find the stuff later."

Even us, but we could afford to lose a few of the charms we made for the cause. It was better than hanging onto them and getting overwhelmed.

"I like that idea even better. So how do we do it? You make the hole, we charge the charms and drop 'em in?"

"Works for me."

Matt snorted. "You both take all the magic out of magic. It's sickening really."

I thought about it a moment. "Yeah I guess that's fair. Don't hang out with us, you'll get corrupted."

It was too late, of course, and Matt knew it. So he just grinned at me.

I estimated the distance... about twenty meters? Nah, we couldn't pull that. Fifteen was probably as good as it got, even if it left the village vulnerable to bow fire and thrown weapons. Maybe we hadn't made enough charms after all.

Whatever, I made the hole and dropped my charm in. Les dropped one of his in right after, and the earth zipped itself right back up with a gesture. We really were getting far too good at this. Far too used to this. What was this, the third time? The fourth? Too many.

I walked the requisite paces, made another hole and repeated with the charm.

"Can't you just do that for all the holes you need?"

I turned back to Randolf. "First, the holes I need as decoys only have to be about a foot by a foot and look a little rumpled. Second, while this little trick isn't that bad, it still costs power. I'm looking at roughly fifty of these around this village, maybe more, and I still need to be able to fight at the end of it. As things stand right now, I'm going to need to power nap and hope that's enough. I'm going to have to hope that the undead dont attack right at dusk, and I have some time, or I'm going to be fairly useless.

Randolf scuffed the dirt with his foot. "Seems to me, you're already doing more than most can."

That was quite possibly the nicest thing I'd heard him say to me. Hell, to anyone.

"Thank you, Randolf. That was kind of you to say." I got to where I should be and made another hole.

Randolf waved me off. "It's nothing. Those charms of yours just work, we know it. Between you and Les, we got the spook thing down."

Spook thing? Yeah, maybe. "We will see. The intelligent ones always present a unique problem. I'm guessing the entire circle we're making won't last the night. And if the situation isn't resolved, by tomorrow night they'll have the whole thing dug up."

Of course, we'd have a second circle around the town itself by then, but the entire place would still be vulnerable to fire or dark magics with them that close. This would at least force them to play a little more fair for awhile.

Well, fair according to us, which wasn't really fair at all, but they were 'spooks' so screw them.

"We need to hurry," Les informed me.

"Right. Let's pick up the pace then." If Les was content to let me pick the spots, then I'd simply job from place to place.

I felt a bit bad about making men in full armor job beside me, but they adjusted, grim faced and silent.

"Here. Matt, you got your shovel?"

Matt raised the hand his shield was strapped to, brandishing his field shovel.

"Good. a few shovel fulls here, then put it back. you dont need to take particular care, and if you hit a stone or root just move over a bit, the exact spot isn't important."

"Got it. Poe around?"

Matt wasn't looking up. "He is, don't worry. Nothing around us that looks hostile, and you'll catch up to us."

He wasn't worried about himself, I knew, the silly goof. Killing our front line would make us far less effective, however, and something about armor seemed to make people more resistant to necromantic spells.

We'd be gambling on that; if the necromancer was here or showed up (and I was sure he would) death spells would be flowing like water down a hill.

The charms would help all that too, would make it harder for those spells to take hold, but the necromancer was stronger than either Les or I. I was gambling on the necromancer being too impatient to search long for these, and I felt more than a little confident in that.

Les didn't say anything, so I was also certain he felt the same. The guy had screamed impatience when we fought him before.

Randolf fumbled with his pack. "You got a hole for me?"

Wow, he was even offering to do manual labor? "You get the next one, on the other side of this next hole. You guys will trade off."

The undead wouldn't be able to afford ignoring the shallow holes we were digging, even if they checked a few. Because I would sew some of our charms in those too, just for good measure.

With luck it would at least divert some of the forces arrayed against us for a time, letting us deal with them piecemeal. That might be enough to turn the tide. I really would prefer a wall, though.

I could, if I was of a mind to, make a wall, but it would exhaust me and likely take another hour we didn't have. I still wouldn't fault Karl for the decision to purify who we could though - those people had families.

We made our way around in mostly silence, racing the sun. We were almost done when Matt lunged forward, in front of me, his shield coming up.

There was a group heading toward us; three women, one man. The man looked taut as the string of the bow he carried, wary. Dressed in forest greens and browns, he bore the look of a hunter, or a match to our ranger. He seemed just as hard too, but younger, his thing face bore few lines and his hatchet nose straight.

The eyes seemed just as piercing, though.

The three women were all a little on the heavy side and older, dressed in long white dresses with different secondary colors and matching brown aprons. Two bore baskets, and the third had straps leading to the bucket perched behind her.

I couldn't see it, but Poe could.

The three women also bore jolly expressions, chatting in low voices and laughing, but there was tension in them as well; their eyes darted around seeking threats, and they were ramrod straight and ready to run.

Still, all four were greeting us with smiles, and I heard no harsh words directed our way among the small talk. Rather, what was with that? Did she really just say that?

The man stepped aside as the three women drew up to us. "Good even. George noticed you were not among the others, and sent us to find you. We come bearing food and drink, promised you all some time ago."

Matt, Les, and Randolf were all three staying silent. "Good evening. We appreciate it, we've worked up quite the appetite and thirst. I am Muse, this is Matt, that wall of meat over there is Randolf, and my brother in arms here is Les."

I knew I'd be fine, but Matt and Randolf could both eat enough for four of me, and Les would likely eat double. I just wanted the water most. Fresh and hopefully just slightly chilled.

The woman countered immediately. "I am Judith, this is Ellen, the one behind us is Ana, and our escort is Bob." She winked at the last name.

I would have too. Bob? Bob the ranger, Bob the huntsman?

Not a name that would strike fear into the hearts of enemies.

"Pleased to meet you all. So, what do you have for us?" Matt still hadn't spoken. What was wrong with him? He was usually much more talkative.

His ears were red. Why were his ears red? Had he heard them too?

"Some water would be great, we've been marching all day."

"Of course, of course!" Judith replied, turning around. There was the expected bucket, complete with a ladle in it.

That was fine, I had my own cup. No one said anything as I pulled it out, and Judith waited patiently. The water was clear, with nothing in it, but that didn't stop Les from double checking. He gave us all a hidden thumbs up.

"Thank you." The water was as delicious as it looked, and I wasted no time downing the rest. I still had my canteen, of course, but it was best to save that for when I needed it. And it was warm.

"Don't stop there, you must be hungry. The bread isn't hot anymore, but it's still fresh. baked just an hour or two ago." Ellen was holding out a small loaf, already cut down the middle and slathered in some form of jelly. Next to her, Ana was holding out some sort of salted meat. From the look and smell, it was beef, if heavily salted.

Les had called the stuff alright, so I wasted no time putting the offered beef into the offered bread and chowing down.

Matt moved to grab his own, and I held out my handkerchief. He shouldn't eat finger food with dirty hands. I had a spare for Randolf, which I threw at him.

He caught it, looking for all the world as if he had a live snake in hand. I mimed washing up and he nodded readily enough.

I wouldn't have to wash either piece of cloth, of course, I'd just include it in my morning cleaning spells. Les and I would be fine, as we hadn't done any manual work.

Still, the dirt on the cloth when Randolf gave it back made me wonder just what he'd been doing. Had he been rolling in the mud earlier when I hadn't been watching?

It wasn't really my concern. Probably.

I stuck both cloths back in my pack and went ahead. The suspected beef was beef, but even more heavily salted than I'd thought. Luckily the soft bread and blackberry jam offset it, and made the meat palatable. With some more water, at least. Sheesh.

I wasn't the only one who felt that way, clearly. We had stopped, however, and the sun hadn't. "Thank you all. We need to continue, however, or we won't get done with this in time."

Despite themselves, they too glanced at the retreating sun. "Of course, of course. We shall not keep you."

That wasn't quite what I meant, but I guess it'd work.

They moved their way, back to their village, and we moved ours. We were, at best, only halfway done and the sun was waning, its beams weak. You could still see the entire orb if you wanted, but it wouldn't be long.

This was bad. "We got to move."

I said it, but there was only so fast we could go.

We had to try. I all but jogged to the next site, said the word I needed to open the hole, then I charged the charm and chucked it in. The hole might have been closing as Les threw his own in, but he didn't say anything.

Matt was already digging his hole along our path.

I clapped him on the back as I passed, just for reading the room that was not a room, and stuck a charm in. He went into cover mode and we moved on. Perhaps twenty minutes to make it all the way around the village - we could make it if we hurried.