Amanita (Chapter 2)

Template:Amanita nav Killing a crowd of demons might be hard. They're not like mages, though that might work out in my favor. From what I've heard, they're not as smart, and don't keep as many tricks up their sleeves. But there'll be more than one of them. Sorcerers tend to be loners, so Viz-Jaaq'tar train to take down single targets. For groups, I might get away with just spreading out the hurt: keep my distance, don't let them see me, pick 'em off one by one and hope they don't try anything clever. Sounded like a good plan. But don't they all?

It was raining when I stepped into the moor... up past my ankle. Pulling my foot out made a noise like a 60-year-old streetwalker who'd forgotten to put in her teeth. So much for "move silently as shadows on the grass." I listened, but no sound came through the patter of rain. All I could see was trampled heather and stumps of the trees that gave their lives for the rickety walls behind me. There weren't even any animals to take notice of me. Perfect. I'd seen animals on my way here: ugly, twisted ones that weren't as scared of me as they should have been.

Stepping from one knot of grass to another kept me out of the mud; an old hat I found under a rock kept the rain off. I actually felt pretty good about myself before something stabbed me in the back. I whirled around -- nobody there. Another hit, in the leg. I looked down. A giant rat with spikes on its back was gnashing its teeth and flicking quills at me. It stopped after I stepped on its head. Scanning the ground, I saw a few more. Each took several arrows to kill, more than an animal the size of a rabbit should. The quills hurt a lot to pull out, too. Must be barbed; at least they weren't poisoned.

The moor was also haunted by the dead. Waterlogged corpses are great zombie material, and whoever was making them was working overtime. It didn't seem right to have walking dead just shambling around in daylight -- they needed a silvery moon shining off brackish water, with wolf howls in the background. There probably weren't any wolves left around here, and if there were, they were 8 feet long with spines and steel teeth. Another thing: almost all the zombies were women, wearing what was left of Rogue leather armor. Most were very fresh, dead for a few weeks at most.

When I had a chance, I looked over every zombie. Some had a little money, so whatever killed them wasn't interested in loot. Some still had useable armor. Mostly, I was looking for what originally killed them. Quieting them down for examination took so many arrows they wound up looking like birds, but the cause of death was usually obvious. Most were killed by blows to the torso: axe wounds in their backs or punctures by sword or spear. The angle of attack usually went upwards, and injuries to the head and shoulders were uncommon. Many were burned, but not badly enough to kill them. Very little molestation, before or after death. They died like soldiers, it looked like, and from ordinary weapons. Nice to know I wouldn't be fighting anything too exotic.

I would need a stronger weapon, though -- my bow is for killing rabbits, and any rabbit still around out here could probably take it away from me and eat it. Lucky for me this happened to the Rogues, every kind of bow I might want will be easy to find. Turns out their smith escaped with them, a girl named Charsi. Don't laugh, she's bigger than most men I've seen, including a few smiths. Every word out of her mouth bubbled over with enthusiasm, and I could tell right away that thinking didn't bother her too often. Also, she liked to talk. I like talking to people who like to talk.

"Oh, it was horrible," she was saying, "there was fire everywhere and all this screaming, I thought for sure I was going to die. I'm not a warrior -- I wish I was, but I'm no good with a bow -- so I grabbed some things and ran when Kashya told me we had to abandon the monastery. I hope you understand she's taking it really hard, so she's --"

"Don't you worry, I understand," I said, knowing she'd believe me. "Sometimes, when a war leader is defeated, she takes it out on her troops. It's no big deal."

Charsi blinked, "Oh, you knew she's the war leader?"

I've got to watch myself. "Yeah, one of the other girls told me. And she looks like a war leader, you know?"

"Oh, yeah!" she nodded. "Kashya is really impressive, just amazing. Only Blood Raven was better. She..." Charsi's smile faded, and her voice trailed off. This was a subject she'd remembered not to talk about. I was impressed.

"Blood Raven is kind of a strange name," I said innocently.

"Yeah, she was from some other country far away," Charsi said, suddenly finding the dirt by my boots intensely fascinating. Doubt filled her mind like mist -- she wasn't trying to hide the truth, she didn't know what was going on. All she knew is that she'd heard the name in connection with something bad. She kept talking as I closed my mind's eye. "I think Gheed has traveled in her country. He's been everywhere."

"Who's Gheed?"

"He's behind you, by his wagon. Gheed is wonderful, he knows all kinds of funny stories and has seen so many amazing things. I wish I could see half of what he's seen."

Glancing over my shoulder, I found two eyes the color of fresh excrement riveted to my ass. The rest of him looked no better: expensive clothes and a fur-lined cape wrapped around an ale barrel, topped by a face that looked like a bucket of mud. There are people in this world you don't have to know to hate. Just looking across camp at him, I wanted to kick his teeth in. Violence wasn't a good idea, especially around Kashya, so I'd have to settle for a pair of pants. Finding some wouldn't be easy around the Rogues.

Charsi was still innocently rambling on about how funny and clever he was. I felt sick. I could open her eyes for her, but the thought made me feel worse. I asked for a crossbow instead, and after a few practice shots, bought it. Knowing I was packing a little power made me feel a lot better.

The crossbow worked out just fine. Cranking it up was a little slower, but watching one of the bolts punch right through a quill rat was worth the extra time. Zombies only took three or four shots to put down, if you aimed for the joints. Hits to the head or internals don't mean much with zombies. To get some practice, I explored the moor. There were a few chests and trunks lying around, probably luggage lost during the escape. Most of the stuff was useless, except for the finder's fees. All that changed when I found a sorcerer's staff in an empty house. My money worries were over. Mages enchant their personal toys so much, any stick of theirs will be worth a fortune. Akara was pleasantly surprised to see it, so she must not miss its former owner. The first thing I brought was a couple of tomes for scrolls -- that surprised her too. She was sure I'd leave once I had money.

The sun was setting when I was satisfied that the moor was empty. Moving slow and quiet, drawing no attention to myself, was all it took. Kashya wouldn't be impressed, but I didn't expect her to be -- even I know zombies aren't hard to kill. All that was left was the cave. It was small, just an opening in the side of a hillock, but it was the only one in the area. Judging from the tracks outside, a lot of creatures were in that cave. Some had human feet, which dragged as they walked. Others had small feet, with four clawed toes splaying out in front and to the sides. And then there was a single humanlike print so big both my feet fit inside it lengthwise. Good thing I brought a bigger bow.

The cave was dark, with only a few torches struggling in the stale air deeper inside. Perfect. Carefully, I moved in, eyes on the torches far ahead. A zombie or two was wandering in and out of the light, barely moving. Perfect targets. I braced against a wall to shoot... and the wall was hairy. With a snort, it turned around, and I looked up into two tiny eyes in a head that could barely be distinguished from the massive shoulders hulking on either side. Crap. Off I went, with the thing right behind me, howling enough to wake up everything in the cave before I finally managed to kill it. Crap, crap, crap. So much for stealth. The zombies were coming, and a few midget-like creatures with torches.

The zombies were easy kills, like usual. The midgets were short little devil guys, with horns, barbed tails, and attitude. I didn't like their attitude, and let them know it. After reviewing my forceful arguments, they bowed to reason and changed their ways, becoming much easier to get along with. I did have a problem with their leaders, though -- slightly bigger midgets who undid all my subtle persuasions by raising the little bastards from the dead. The obvious solution was to address the leader in person, the same way you'd deal with a Necromancer with a lot of raised skeletons. Getting through to him took persistence, so much so that I had to change arguments and employ a pair of katar, but once the leader saw the light of reason, the rest changed their minds and became much more accommodating.

Clearing the rest of the cave went the same way. I'd rather they never knew I was there, but a strong attack isn't a bad option. After a few Bigfoots almost got close enough to hit me, I bought myself a pot helm. It's ugly, but the most important part I have is my brain. As for my other parts... the Rogues still aren't stocking pants, so I meet Charsi on the other side of her little smithing table. The leader of the cave forces, around whom all the others gathered, was a zombie, which told me a lot about how well they were organized. Super-zombie wasn't any harder to kill, he just took longer. Mentally alerting each of his friends in turn, I'd lure them away and put them down, until he was alone. He never noticed. Even when he did see me, a few psychic blows made him reel so much he immediately forgot.

When I went to see Akara, I never got a word out of my mouth. She greeted me right away with, "Well done, my child. You have cleansed that den of evil, and earned my trust. I hope you will forgive us for anything we said or implied."

"Thank you, Akara," I said, wondering how she could know already. She wasn't reading my thoughts. Did she have someone follow me in that cave? Could one of these Rogues outdo a Viz-Jaq'taar in stealth? All right, so I'm not exactly stellar in that department... "You had no reason to trust me."

"Perhaps not, but that is not why I was so brusque. Much of my faith in humanity was lost when our monastery fell, but I feel finding someone to trust has helped restore it. You could easily have fled this cursed place with your new wealth, but did not. I now feel I can share with you my thoughts and suspicions."

I nodded, mind still whirling. "Whatever you're willing to share, Lady Akara."

"Thank you, Amy, if I may call you that. My belief is that our sisters have been possessed by demons, brought back to this place by one of our order, Blood Raven. Perhaps you have heard the name?"

There wasn't a trace of irony in her voice. However she got her information, she didn't know everything. "I think so..."

"Blood Raven was our greatest archer, famous for her skill. When evil struck the town of Tristram, she led many of our sisters there to combat it."

I nodded. "I'd heard of Tristram. Farming town by the Hool river, yes?"

"Yes. Until a short while ago, that is all anyone knew or cared of it. Now it is clear that a dark secret lay hidden there. When I heard of demons roaming the land near Tristram, I sent Blood Raven to save the town and enhance our order's reputation."

"You didn't send Kashya?"

"No," the old woman's voice dropped. "I thought Blood Raven the superior choice."

Ouch. I'll bet Kashya didn't take that well. "Go on."

"Blood Raven returned with but a fraction of her cohort. They told tales of a town nearly destroyed, with an unspeakable evil festering beneath the surface. This nameless evil had led to the downfall of kings and valiant knights alike. The town's cathedral was overrun by demons, and their bishop had vanished down below the catacombs."

"This town had its own bishop? I thought it was a little place."

"The archbishop of Khanduras, no less. I do not know why he chose Tristram as his seat. The important matter is that after their return, Blood Raven and the others behaved oddly, and were stricken with nightmares. The Eye of the Goddess saw nothing more in them than memories of the many horrors they encountered while attempting to cleanse Tristram, so I assumed that all they required was time to heal their troubled minds. It appears that I was very, very wrong. Blood Raven's cohort, and all those who worked closely with them, are the ones who rose against us that terrible night."

"With madness in their eyes."

"As you have said. Now our sisters roam the land killing and destroying all they once built and cherished, side by side with hellish creatures. According to our scouts, our once-proud monastery is defiled in the worst way, full of demons and corruption. And Blood Raven has been seen again."

"Where? Doing what?" I asked.

The old woman continued, ignoring me. "Her form had been altered severely, so that she seems more beast than human."

"I understand that. Where was she, and what was she doing?"

"I am sorry. This weighs heavily on me. Perhaps Kashya can best explain; she has seen with her own eyes the horror that Blood Raven has become."