A dance of bones

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

A harsh yet beautiful land, thought Shannon.  Markazor’s hills were covered by heather in full flower and the air was heavy with the scent.  A light mist still lingered on the hills, but barely hindered vision.  The clinking of mail told Shannon that the men at arms had caught up with her and she absently pointed out the copse of trees that concerned her to Sergeant Brosen.  “It matches the description of the travelers Sergeant – atop the hill over-looking the road, thick with brush and low hanging boughs – no horsemen could hope to ride through it.  Aye, and the bracken is oddly dark, just as they said.”

Sergeant Brosen grimaced, “think you the bandits still present lady Shannon?”  Shannon frowned, “no way to tell until we are closer – have a half dozen of the men hold back when we are closer that they may pursue any vermin which flee the woods, the rest of us will approach and dismount when in bowshot.”

Shannon mused on the potential ambush from the copse as they approached, a small stand it was nonetheless dense and dark – they would be atop any foe before it was seen she thought.  Yet at the same time she did not see how the ambushes told be travelers had been so dangerous – a hundred such copses yet littered the province for only along the few main roads had men begun to cut back the brush and saw off low hanging boughs that granted ambush to highwaymen and a swift death to any pursuing knight.  What was special about this copse?

Around the copse the bracken was stained oddly black.  Wary, but calmed by the motionless fronds Shannon beckoned the men forward sword at the ready.  A harsh shriek broke the air and a sudden movement beneath Trojan’s hooves caught Shannen by surprise, the horse barely leaping clear of a crude spear thrust at its belly.  Goblins rose from the ground all about somehow concealed by the bracken and earth and in an instant a dozen horses screamed their death as their bellies were laid open by goblin spears.

Anders sped past Shannon, the lad’s horse bolting from the abrupt peril followed swiftly by Gwydon’s mount Greyfoot.  Gwydon himself frantically rolled to his feet swinging his blade wildly to keep back the goblins while he sought his feet.  Shannon winced as a goblin spear missed Trojan’s throat and splintered on her mail and struck out soundly with her blade knocking the spear away and impaling the goblin in the throat with a swift lunge.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

Beating aside another goblin bent on slaying her mount Shannon caught her breath, the initial attack had felled several of the patrol but the goblins were now falling rapidly – only the lesser goblin kind had hidden in the bracken and no veteran of the patrol was in serious danger from a goblin half his size clad in rags.  So why the ambush? Thought Shannon – even the least of goblins did not throw away their lives, and these fools had done little beyond felling some of our horses.  Trojan staggered and fell whinnying and Shannon cursed her inattention, jumping free of her dying horse she struck the assaulting goblin’s axe from its right hand with the first blow, its left hand from the arm with the second and its head from its shoulders with the third.  They are attacking the horses more than us, the nagging thought in her mind said – beware treachery, this is more than it seems.

The last of the goblins fell abruptly, leaving the patrol abruptly alone aside from the dying and bodies of the fallen.  Brosen muttered something soft in the ear of his stricken mount and slit the beast’s throat to spare it a lingering death from the spear in its belly, an act echoed by Shannon and a dozen more of the patrol.  “Be wary” said Shannon – “they attacked at the call of another and something about this seems most unnatural".

Leaving Brosen to gather then men to order Shannon knelt by the fallen men Droene and Shaemes, “Haelyn’s grace be upon you, may your souls find the path of..” the prayer was barely begun when Droene moved his eyes and looked directly at Shannon.  Shannon paused in confusion, Droene had a spear through his chest, no man could survive such a blow, the warning thought was too slow and a blow from the awakening undead sent her reeling.  “Haelyn forfend” cried Brosen and Shannon gasped at the sight of the dead horses similarly rising to strike at their former riders and bodies of the slain goblins reaching out for fallen spear and axe.

The men of the patrol swiftly formed a circle to defend themselves against the zombies and Shannon struck left and right to carve herself a path to their ranks.  Brosen grimaced, “so this is why the travelers moaned of innumerable foes”, his sword flashed and a goblin zombie fell in pieces “you have to kill the damned things twice!  Good fortune to us, we gain twice the bounty assuredly!”  Chuckling at the dark humor the patrolmen swiftly took up the standard tactics for dealing with the undead – the first man blocked the crude blows, the second thus shielded struck fearlessly against the lumbering foe. Harsh on the horses but we should prevail with few losses thought Shannon, so long as this is the only trick we meet.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

The shrieks came again from the distance and one of the men – Onwen from the plume atop his helm cried out ‘archers!’ before disappearing beneath the collapsing body of his mount Whitecrest, now twice slain by goblin spear and master’s sword both.  Arrows sped from a thicket to the right felling a pair of patrolmen who rose but moments later and turned on their former comrades.  The men tire and our foes rise again, we will lose if we stand blindly like this thought Shannon, “Noelon! Oerwinde! To the archers, break their bows if they rise as do these!” The patrolmen still mounted heeded her cry and charged the goblins trusting their armor and speed to defend them.

Droene lurched before her again and Shannon frowned, three times now had she slain her former comrade and each times after a dozen heartbeats he had risen to fight on, always the stubborn one she thought wryly.  “We need to get clear of this spot!” She called – the slope down was inviting – too obviously so.  “To the crest of the hill men!  Let us see if this unholy ground stretches back where the bracken holds Erik’s green!”  Raising high her sign of favor Shannon called forth Haelyn’s grace, driving back the zombies near the circle of patrolmen, thus temporarily reprieved the patrolmen rushed back from the blackened bracken to the ridge.

The survivors of the patrol swiftly outpaced the zombies and the riders caught the patrol as it crested the hill, Noelen bent over Oerwinde’s knees, two arrows in his side.  “We broke their bows but they rose again and again lady just like the others” said Oerwinde, her eyes wide with shock.  “Indeed” said Shannon “ ‘tis cursed land – they approach now, let us see if fire will end this – cast your flasks on the bracken before us men and ready your bows and brands!”

The zombies approached, silent save for the snapping of the bracken beneath their limbs.  Backing from the oil-soaked ground the patrolmen readied their crossbows while Brosen readied a burning brand with which to immolate the zombies, former friend and goblin foe alike.

Mindless things zombies – always remember that they are best fought with the mind not the fist.  Her father’s lessons on tactics echoed in Shannen’s mind as the zombies started walking over the oil soaked bracken.  Another angry shriek – from where did it come? Wondered the paladin and the zombies abruptly turned and began to stagger from the oily trap.  “They are circling about the oil men – loose!” called Brosen.  A dozen of the zombies staggered as the crossbows sang and bolts bit into their legs tumbling them into the oiled ground.  With a shout Brosen cast his brand igniting the oil and all but a handful of the zombies were engulfed in flames, struck by bolt after bolt the surviving zombies struggled to reach the patrolmen until hurled into the flames to meet their doom.

Shannon looked around for the one who had guided the raid.  Nothing, she thought, I’ve got half my patrol killed in exchange for two dozen goblin corpses – probably already dead before we arrived - and not even seen who guided them.  The bitter taste of defeat spread in her mouth until a sudden movement caught her eye – a plummeting hawk -  likely after a mouse or small hare – abruptly sheered away from its prey keening with frustration.  Something is there thought Shannon, waiting for us to move away or plotting some further trick.

[X-Haelyn's Aegis/RK (Andy)]

“Trevan my fine young poacher, how best to trap a wolf that lurks over by the beech yonder without granting it chance to flee? Mayhap we can bring down the one who planned and guided this assault and so avenge our fallen friends.”  Trevan glanced sideways at the spot in question and muttered “if our returning lamb Anders yonder and Oerwinde here ride north as though to get aid, then circle around once they are past the next hill, whilst Landen and I go down to our ambush site and linger as though searching something lost, then all turn and charge at the call of Ander’s horn, we should be able to catch whoever lies over yonder before they can pass any of the three groups by”

Brosen nodded his support for the plan and the men were swiftly off, the chance for vengeance driving aside thoughts of fallen comrades even as the rising sun burnt the last of the mist away. The patrol finished bandaging its wounds and gathering fallen weapons all to swiftly and Shannon frowned – to linger longer risked letting the watcher to creep away or grow suspicious, she thought, we have seen no sign of movement but Anders should have sounded his horn by now – ‘twas not far he had to ride.

“Enough waiting – if Anders is not ready by now he never will be – time to see if this day might be ended in our favor!”  Blowing her own horn Shannon led the men in a swift charge, heeding the call Trevan and Landen charged as well, but no echoing horn was heard to the north from Anders.

The spot by the beech tree was marked by bracken stained black like the patch near the copse but the flattened plants were empty of any foe.  Fearing for the worst Shannon swiftly led the patrol north.  A patch of all-too bright red on the rocks ahead betrayed where Anders and Oerwinde had met the foe, Anders’ body – rent open as if by huge claws lay on the rocks, Oerwinde lay moaning, a spear-cast beyond beneath two large boulders.

“Look at these tracks?  No goblin foot made these!” Called Brosen pointing to the ground beside Anders, “and what this – black blood on his blade and cast about!  What manner of beast do we hunt?”  “One swift enough to chase down a fleeing mount” said Trevan clearly shaken, pointing to the remains of Anders horses a hundred yards down a path it had beaten in attempt to flee.  “And not one for us to pursue any longer afoot!”

Shannon frowned at his fearful tone, distaste for fear warring with anger at the deaths of her men inside her until both foolish emotions were swept aside by trained calculation, whatever foe they faced was swift, and strong enough to strike down two soldiers so swiftly they could not cry for aid – few of her men were uninjured and their foe clearly knew the land well, there would be another day – “ ‘tis no part of Haelyn’s creed to lead good men to death in the name of foolish pride, we return to the camp to report of this foe and ready ourselves anew”.  Shannon looked about at the waving hills, “whatever manner of beast thou, I will find thee and end thy treacherous ways, vengeance shall be claimed for the fallen and safety wrought for the righteous, by Haelyn’s name I shall make it so”, the promise was calmly spoken but laden with her belief and the men echoed as one ‘In Haelyn’s name we shall make it so’.