Four Horsemen: Chapter 2 Part 3 of 3 (Patreon)

Mya skipped around, waving her hand over piles of gear, throwing it all in her storage ring, her undead collapsing on their fellows.

“Let us leave this place,” Desari said.

“We only have our gear and we’re supposed to be seeing Limos after this, grab as much gear as you can get. Valter, kick over that altar there.”

“What do you mean kick over that altar?” Petor hissed, his words punctuated with Valter booting the altar to the side.

“There’s something underneath it,” Mya said.

“There’s something in it.” Valter tapped the altar.

Petor opened his mouth, grimacing at the trapdoor where the altar had been, grumbling he dropped to his knee. “Looting a damn god’s temple.”

“Well pretty sure that it ain’t the god you follow.”

Petor hid a shiver, pulling the trapdoor open, a dust covered chest underneath.

“What about the earthquake?”

“Ain’t no earthquake, that’s someone fighting, the tunnels leading to whatever that place is we woke up in were weaker, built to collapse. We’re fine as long as we don’t run into the ones who are making the mountain quake,” Desari shoved a spear into a line between tiles and worked it back and forth.

Looting a temple, in a mountain with some people strong enough to shake the whole thing having a round of fisticuffs.

“Well this life is going muchbetter than the other one,” He hauled up the chest, it was heavier than it looked, stuffing it into his storage ring.

The tile Desari worked on fell out, cracking on the ground, revealing another hidden compartment.

Valter drew his sword, its edge turning the color of molten metal once more as he cut into the table. The table collapsed in two sections along a burning edge. Two more cuts and the altar was thoroughly broken, revealing a shield.

“Not bad,” Valter stored his sword.

“Help me with the looting Petor,” Mya hissed.

He grimaced and dropped to his knees.

“How do I?”

“Cut off their armor, grab their rings, necklaces, jewelry and check their pockets. Shove it al linto a storage ring, if it don’t go into a storage device then it’s either enchanted against it or it’s a storage device.”

Valter tapped the shield. “Mithril,” He sounded almost impressed and partially upset, storing it away.

They quickly separated the dead from their valuables Desari used her acquired spear as a prybar.

“Ready!” Mya said, her undead finished delivering her the last valuables they’d found and collapsed away from her.

Valter nodded and headed down the corridor, over the dead, the shaking building ever-more. Petor studied his rings, feeling as if a thread from his chest to two of them. He ‘opened’ the ring, waving it over a pile of gear, and it disappeared within.

Well at least I’ve learned some things.

He jogged after Valter, tightening his grip on his spear.

The cracking grew and sections broke free, falling down.

“Well fuck a donkey with a hot poker, move those buns!”

Petor pressed forward, grunting, his legs burning pitch, his head a banging drum. A section of roof started falling, to block him in. He squeezed power out into his spear driving it into the stone, wincing for his spear.

He altered the block, turning it out of his path pushing on.

The Desari grabbed his toga as he started lagging.

“Not today Petor, not today.”

“Got all the souls I need, don’t need to collect yours boyo!” Mya slapped him on the back as the corridor opened up into a tomb, filled with more of the armored dead, priests and nuns in robes wearing a different symbol from the armored horde lay among the tombs, crypts broken by the fighting.

Valter took the stairs two at a time the cracking turned into a rumbling as sections of the crypt began collapsing. Rock dust rolled out of the opening in the sheer wall they’d come from, creating a cloud that rolled through the crypt over Petor and his group and up the stairs.

Petor held up a hand, unable to see anything as he stumbled up the stairs.

“Valter,” Desari hissed, grabbing onto Petor.

“What?”

“Grab Mya.”

He grunted.

Petor’s feet spun, going for another step but not finding one.

“You can see through this?” He whispered.

“Yes.” She guided him with a hand through what might have been a hall and down some other corridors. Voices called out as they kept jogging.

Light shone through the dust. As she climbed over a broken wall, the sounds of voices could be heard rising in volume.

“This way.”

Something landed in the distance, breaking timber and tumbling stone.

Petor climbed over, blind from the dust, she grabbed his hand and pushed him. In a direction. He used the rear of his spear sweeping before him, hearing rock shift as Valter and Mya climbed over the wall. The dust thinned as they caught up with him. He looked back, the front third of a cathedral reaching to the heavens above stood a testament to the faithful’s devotion. The rear two thirds had disappeared from view, hidden in the dust.

He knew they were gone, that they had collapsed into the crypt below the cathedral and the mountain that rose behind it.

“The city is on fire.” Mya said.

Petor blinked away the dust, thick smoke rose over the city, the stone buildings close to the cathedral giving way to the dilapidated slums below. Stone cut through the smoke and over the wall, landing in the slums, fire pots cracking against buildings.

“Its under siege.” Valter said.

“Time to get running, not gawping,” Desari said.

“

They stole through the streets, passing people dazed people covered in dust and blood, diving into the maze of alleys filled with the waste and detrius of the city.

Desari held up her hand as a group of guards rushed past the alley towards the cathedral.

She used her dagger to check the street and walked out, turning into a meek young woman with the world falling around her. Shaking at every impact.

“Come on.” Her words cut through her acting. Petor stored his spear and jumped with every hit in the distance, his eyes darting around for more guards. Mya and metal followed, the later in his toga instead of his armor.

“Move out the way!”  they barely had time to run out of the way as a group of guards thundered up the hill on their mounts.

Desari slipped into the alleyway, shedding her acting, Petor and the others following her. The stench of unchanged hay leading them to a stable.

“This should be good enough.” Desari glanced at the surrounding windows. One of the building’s had lost its  roof and part of the wall, the stone projectile still lodged inside.

The smell and the number of flies and rats in the area told Petor that at least some of the residents hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid the stone.

“What are we doing?” Petor asked as they slipped into the stable.

“Clean off the dust and change into something that’s not a toga.” She hissed back, moving to one of the stalls.

“Want company?” Mya propositioned.

Desari merely pointed to another stall, not breaking her stride.

“You know those back buttons are a real pain in the butt,” Mya pouted and slouched off to her own stall.

Petor stared at his rings and he could see inside of them, potions, herbs, books, filled with water, seeds and food, sleeping gear and other useful items. He drew out fresh clothes.

“Do you have any extra?” Valter asked.

“I don’t think I have anything that would fit you too well,” Petor drew out the largest shirt, pants and undergarments he had.

“Thanks.” The big man had tattoos that matched the runes on his armor running over his body. Petor moved to use the water from a trough. Maybe not. He pulled out a canteen instead of wondering what floated in the trough and washed off the dust quickly, passing it over to Valter.

“Thanks.”

Petor shrugged and pulled on his clothes.

“DEFILERS!”

The voice rang through the mountains and down the slopes. Petor glanced through the hay loft window above, spotting a grey and white meteor cutting through the black smoke and fire stained city. It landed up the hill within the city.

“Going right for the cathedral,” Valter took two gulps of water and passed it back to Petor. Petor drank from the canteen.

“A champion of the gods.” Desari lips twisted into a sour expression, coming out of the stall she’d used.

Petor stilled, his heart leaping in his chest, his stomach swirling with nausea. He pulled on the shirt in his hands, using action to refocus his energy.

“Fucking blow hards,” Mya grumbled, securing her sword and gun belt. “Time to make like a tree and fuck off.”

“Agreed.” Desari said.

“You know trees don’t move,” Petor muttered.

“Maybe the ones you know.”

Petor opened his mouth and closed it. Sure, moving trees, yup totally reasonable.

“So, what’s the plan?” Mya asked.

“Get out of the city, find somewhere secluded, meet up with Limos and get our mounts,” Desari said.

“The city is under siege how are we going to get out of here?” Petor asked. “I’m not strong enough to fight my way out, and we don’t know who’s good or bad here.”

“Whoever attacks us is bad and the others well, really it isn’t our problem,” Mya shrugged.

“We need to get out of here, find somewhere to lay low,” Valter said.

“We should head for the walls,” Desari said.

“If there is fighting in the heart of the city, then the people on the walls should be watching the city as well,” Valter said.

“We find an inn, gather some information, wait for things to calm down, then we get the hell out of here,” Mya said.

Petor let out a sigh. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Agreed.”

“Where are we going to find a place to hide?” Desari asked.

“Well any sailor worth their salt knows how to find a tavern, an inn and some company for a night,” Mya grinned. “Just follow me.”

She led them out of the barn.