Quest The Reclamation of Vel Istra

[Selene Avar]

Southern Aniria Territory

Selene rode slowly upon a large black stallion at the head of a column of nearly thirty Dreadlords. Some wore thick plate armor, others simple robes of black, and still others a mix of the two. The sight would be an intimidating one, even for entire armies. Yet they did not ride to war. Not one of this earth.

Vel Istra was a city that The Great Houses and even the King had written off long ago.

During the third Elven War, nearly three centuries ago, it had been the sight of some of the heaviest fighting Arethil had never seen. Blood and magic seeped the earth there, and during the final battle something catastrophic had occurred. No one really knew what, no one really knew which side was responsible, but the calamity had shattered souls of both men and elf alike.

For three centuries now the city had been written off. Peasants whispered of bloody lakes, armies marching to reclaim the once grand fortress disappeared, and even Dreadlords who braved the ancient walls never returned.

No one truly knew what had happened in Vel Istra, no one truly knew what lay within. Yet the city was still there, still a pearl to be clamored for.

It's location, it's grand walls, and the knowledge held within were reason enough for the Great Houses to send forth this expedition.

Some had warned against it, some had begged not to go, but Selene had volunteered to head the charge. When she was a girl she had read of Vel Istra, read of what it held and theories of what could have broken it. Benign curiosity was enough to turn her head towards the mission, but one thing above all else had coaxed her to this path.

There was opportunity in this, one she craved over everything else; Archon.

So, as the lost city of Vel Istra fell into view the First Level Dreadlord smiled, knowing that within it's walls lay her destiny.

 

[Ania]

Finding Vel Istra on the map would’ve been a real challenge for the steadfast dreadlord. She’d heard the stories of heavy fighting of course, that it was a ghost town now, but Ania wasn’t really handy with maps.

Point a finger and if it could be killed the level three of Weiroon wouldn’t rest until it stopped breathing. But locate it on a map? No thanks.

Luckily, there was a small army of dreadlords heading to exterminate whatever vile thing called Vel Istra home. Led by none other than Selene Avar, a level one with a grand reputation. Some of the other level threes told stories of how she immolated an entire village with the flick of her wrist. Needless to say the pale woman was a huge fan.

Part of Ania hoped they’d name a street or tavern after her once proud Anirians called this place home once more but the satisfaction of bringing glory to Vel Anir would also suffice.

 

[Evangeline]

It wasn't often that Evangeline D'amour found herself outranked. The Second Level Dreadlord of House Pirian generally had her pick of the litter when it came to missions, and more often than not she wound up the commanding officer in most engagements. Today, however, marked one of the infrequent times that she had to yield command to another. Selene Avar had called for the aid of the finest Dreadlords from a number of houses in her current endeavor: seizing the ghost city of Vel Istra.

The task seemed foolhardy; surely there was nothing to be gained from assailing its supposedly haunted walls beyond glory. That was, however, assuredly the point. Selene was a Virak Dreadlord, and a particularly ambitious one at that. Rather than accept her rank as a reward for doing her duty, she reached ever higher in her lust for acknowledgment. She was but another tragic figure to Evangeline, a slave to her vices rumored to have given up her very humanity. The very thought of it all was positively revolting to her.

Yet here she was, astride so many others, marching towards certain doom. She had struggled to comprehend why her Lord had agreed to assign her to this mission. She hated to give herself undue credit, but she was undoubtedly an irreplaceable asset to House Pirian, and this seemed like a risk not worth taking. Perhaps Lord Tobias did not wish for Pirian to be seen as weak for refusing to offer its finest in service to House Virak. It wasn't her place nor her desire to question orders, however.

She aspired, at the very least, to prevent unnecessary loss of life. Or maybe she'd witness Selene perish in this gross attempt at earning renown and Vel Anir would be free of one more blight upon its ranks. One could only hope.

 

[Vittorio]

Their brief encounter with an insurgency had earned Vittorio passage into Selene's request for Dreadlords to accompany her. While he wasn't particularly fond of his skill for killing being acknowledged, Selene was a very tolerable person. He did not even take any flack from Himmary to go this time; he just went.

Ania and Evangeline were here as well when he arrived, late as usual. He'd heard of Evangeline prior but never seen her in action, so it would be an interesting day. However there was apparently to be some evil amidst this all. That also sparked his curiosity. He knew of many beasts that lay in wait for adventurers that were too foolish to enter its domain.

Most of them were other Dreadlords.

He arrived on scene from seemingly nowhere, finding himself parading through the masses and pushing towards the front to stand by Selene without a word. Whether he thought himself deserving of a front row seat was unimportant.

His magic required him to have one.

 

[Zana]

Even donned in her armour the Dreadlord of House Luana drew the gaze. It was a beautiful bit of workmanship and it fitted her down to the letter. From the sweep of scales about her shoulders that made it look like angelic wings down to the elegant blade at her hip she looked like a figure out of the Vel Anir Legend. Of course it had been chosen as such. Her house prided itself on appealing to the people, being loved by the people, and that was controlled by every subtle image they put onto the streets. Including her. The image was only helped by the fact she so rarely appeared in public and when she did she won with a brutal beauty. Little did they know her lack of appearance in public was more down to the fact the head of the house didn't want his little futureseerer getting discovered and poached by another.

Zana yawned in her saddle, raising her hand to cover her mouth as she did so. It had been a long night of little rest for the Dreadlord. Her dreams had been filled with a million different ways today could go as people across the city plotted and toiled, changing the possibilities over and over again. The agony of it still echoed in her bones like a horrible version of pins and needles. To distract herself she cast her eyes over the other Dreadlords who had answered the call to arms on this glory hunting mission but she didn't recognise any of them by face, though the names that drifted to them on the winds from others conversations did ring a bell. She didn't exactly socialise much beyond her house, her visions could appear at any moment and it was a lot harder to hush those things out outside of Luana influence.

Not even Flo knew of her gifts and Zana actually liked the younger Dreadlord whom was riding along next to her. It was more a running joke amongst the Luana Dreadlords that you just didn't ignore things Zana said in her weird Zana manner. She cast her eyes over to her friend now to see how she was feeling about the upcoming fight.

"I cannot wait for a drink once this is over with," she muttered by way of conversation, shifting her position in her saddle slightly.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe sat uneasily on her saddle, every few minutes taking stock of her javelins and spears as if they'd suddenly disappear on her. Usually, she'd find time to marvel at their craftsmanship - each one a work of art. Her patrons ensured that she received the very best ammunition, lightweight, elegant and with an almost impossible sharpness. Practically, however, she could have settled for regular crude ones - but she supposed they at least made her look professional. Today, however, her mind was on other things. Today, Florinthe was nervous. That is not to say Florinthe didn't usually exhibit signs of nerves or concern before a mission, which she almost always did, but today she felt it acutely. She was a woman of control, tactics and precision. Venturing into the unknown was not a pleasant journey for her to undertake.

Her attention shifted from her personal armoury back to her own appearance and she subtly began to brush off some dust from her leather armour. Unlike many of her peers, she did not enjoy the bulk or the restriction that came with heavier, more protective gear. Instead, she placed her faith in the sturdy boiled leader, sewn with a few bits of plate, to protect her vitals. She sighed, there was nothing left to check, nothing left to prep, she had no more excuses - no more control.

Florinthe had not volunteered in so many words. Instead, a few leading Dreadlords had suggested she attend this mission and, despite her best protests, she had been constantly 'encouraged' until she put her name forward. Her stomach only sank further as she took scope of the various Dreadlords that made up the ranks around her. Not only was she one of the most junior members of the contingency, nor because the group was populated by many higher-ranked comrades than her... No, to top it off, the men and women surrounding her were mainly from non-ruling houses, led by a Virak commander.

She reigned her horse closer to Zana. She had a companion at least in this woman at least. The two had met in rather humourous circumstances involving a wheelbarrow, some wine and a dove and had remained close allies and friends ever since. "You can say that again, although, I'm certain someone here must be carrying if you're that keen." She spoke in jest but nodded at one of the elderly Dreadlords among them. The fellow in question, Sithis, had never quite risen above a middling third-level at best and in recent years had a reputation for smelling like a brewery - especially on missions.

 

[Selene Avar]

As Vel Istra fell fully into view Selene held up a single hand and called the column to a stop.

For a moment she stayed atop her horse, shifting in the saddle uncomfortably before slipping down from the great beast and stepping onto the dirt road. "We leave the horses."

She declared to the others.

They were still two miles out from the ancient fortress, but even from here she could see the broken earth and shattered ground that surrounded the entirety of Vel Istra. Mud, muck, and skeletal corpses were still strewn all about the city, and even the road seemed to fall in on itself. Continuing on foot would be easier.

The walls of the city itself seemed to be intact, though the buildings inside resembled the ground that surrounded it.

Broken domes and shattered towers had long ago collapsed in on itself, the only untouched structure seeming to be a massive Fortress like Keep at the very center of the City itself. An odd green tint seemed to cling to it's stone, a faded fog floating throughout the city.

"If anyone wishes to leave." She turned to the other Dreadlords. "Do it now."

 

[Ania]

Ania was relieved to be rid of her horse. It was much more difficult to catch a glimpse of your foe if you were on horseback, jostling around as the beast galloped. Also, your enemy's weren't as easy to reach without using a lance or spear or some other weapon. Ania wanted to be close when the life was snuffed out from her opponent. To feel the hope drain as they realized everything was ending around them.

The pale dreadlord kept her pace in line. Nestled between the level twos but ahead of most of the level threes. She didn't outrank any of the other level threes of course but, in her mind, it was a travesty that she was still only at the rank of third level. Her time would certainly come, there was no doubt, but for now it proved as a continued annoyance. Best to ensure the other level threes knew that Ania was more talented and accomplished than them.

When they were near enough to take in the full state of the city a long sigh escaped from Ania's lips. It was such a shame that a once great human settlement had been reduced to this. Probably some crafty elven curse that needed purging. Or some disgusting beast that needed to be purged from this world.

Glimpsing at the crumbling stone and unusual lime tinting around it must've made even Selene perform a double take as she asked if anyone wished to leave. Leave? Were any of her comrades actually considering that? Probably a few of the level threes that Ania was clearly better than. If anyone spoke up and suggested departure in the face of this then the next words out of the Weiroon dreadlord's mouth would've been to ask permission to execute the coward.

"Cowardice is an emotion that dreadlords do not feel," she said under her breath as she continued to step forward. Ready to serve the will of Vel Anir.

 

[Evangeline]

At the First Level's command, Evangeline dismounted and tucked her arms behind her back. She didn't like the idea of trudging through a bog and sullying her perfectly kept uniform, but a dreadlord's life was hardship. A bit of mud would hardly be the worst thing her gear had been exposed to over the years, anyways.

"If anyone wishes to leave." She turned to the other Dreadlords. "Do it now."

An obvious trap to weed out the frail. Any who turned and ran now would certainly be tortured, executed, or both. Evangeline didn't bother to scan her comrades for signs of retreat. If you were intelligent enough to graduate from the Academy, you were also smart enough not to run.

In fact, the only other dreadlord who caught her attention was a curiously bold Level Three that had crept her way up from the back of the pack. Her close proximity and quiet muttering would earn her a reprimand from her better.

"It is unbecoming of one of your rank and status to mumble. You had best mind your manners, third level...and your distance." She scolded Ania clearly and firmly, but not at an excessive volume.
"What is your name? Whose house do you represent?"

 

[Zana]

Zana chuckled low when Flo motioned to their peer in front of them who was already looking around to take a swing from a mysterious 'water'skin attached to his hip. She watched him for a moment, almost debating it, when Selene called for the column to stop. Guess she was out of time. Sighing she dismounted and patted her horses neck once, passing her reigns to one of the stewards scurrying up and down the column to tend to all the Dreadlord horses. She made sure to give him a small coin when he took her horses reigns, causing his eyes turn almost as round as the piece of gold. Before he could utter anything to her however she was moving past him to join Flo in walking over to where a group was forming.

"You will be fine, Florinthe," Zana kept her voice low as they spoke and walked towards Ania, Evangeline and Selene. She could feel the girl beside her was as wound as a tight coil, had felt the energy on their whole ride over here. Whatever it was that was bothering her she hoped it would disappear once the fighting started. It would not pay to be distracted on this field. "Just be mindful of their blood."

Zana didn't offer any more commentary on the matter as they arrived on the fringe of the group as Ania was reprimanded for her mutterings. The Dreadlord glanced to Flo with a look that probably said all that needed to before placing her winged helmet on her head. It fit perfectly over her two braids and completed the avenging angel ensemble perfectly. Perhaps if they had been further away she would have offered the girl a bet on which of the two women would kill the other first, but she decided against it in present company. Instead she turned her gaze to the field and their destination.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe nodded solemnly towards Zana and swallowed audibly. The sense of unease she felt was abating, somewhat, but she figured that was merely being replaced at a sense of excitement. Not for the mission, of course, but at watching Ania being scolded by another Dreadlord. Since their first meeting, and subsequent encounters, Florinthe had reserved a special level of terror for Ania. Ania seemed to continuously sicken Florinthe with her new and innovative acts of cruelty and gore. That said, the irony was not lost on Florinthe. Her own abilities could, and had, fried men from the inside out or caused them to explode into a slurry of gore... but at least she had the decency to do it from a distance.

Carefully, she dismounted the horse and led him a few meters away from the group, staking him down to a nice patch of grass for him to occupy himself with. In the meantime, while the horse sat contentedly gnawing on the sickly-looking grass, she armed herself with her quivers of javelins. She had brought a full arsenal today and had already regretted it. If she'd have known they would be dismounted she would have chosen some lighter equipment, regardless, she was prepared.

Drawing back to the group, Florinthe moved to stand beside Zana. Her attention following her comrade's eyes and, equally, she too began to consider the sight before her. Eerily quiet and lifeless, yet she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she was being watched - even from this distance.

 

[Vittorio]

Vittorio had no issue with the fact that he had no one to talk to. He had just hoped some might watch his back. Lucky for him he could hardly be found on a horse. His feet carried him practically everywhere he wanted to go. Being able to travel through trees and brush with ease was an enormous aid in that fact.

Selene dismounted and asked if anyone here wanted to leave. He could not help but chuckle at the sentiment. The woman was surrounded with differing levels of lunatics, who did she expect to see turn tail?

"Hate to break it to you," He said to Selene Avar, his eyes not leaving the coming wasteland. "We are but swords for Vel Anir to wield. No weapon would willingly turn away from battle." He reached into his pocket and drank from a flask. It was just water, and it was strange how easy it was for him to drink with the skull on his head.

His fingers elongated and sharpened into their weaponized skeleton form.

"I believe we are all ready, from the sounds of it."

 

[Selene Avar]

"You underestimate the cowardice of your brethren." Selene said quietly to Vittorio, watching keenly as the Dreadlords dismounted and stepped into line behind her.

She had of course known that none of them would leave.

Most would have expected her to execute them for doing so, and others would assume that their own Houses would do the same as soon as they returned. The option she had given hadn't been put out for them to actually take.

Selene had said it so she could read them.

Most of the men and women in this campaign she was unfamiliar with. Although they likely all thought they could hide themselves well, she could read people better than most.

She had seen the creased upon faces, the second glances towards the city, the creeping doubt that had sown before it could be caught. Some of them were scared, doubtful, and she had needed to know which they were.

After a moments more of pause Selene turned. "Move quickly, and quietly."

She commanded the rest as they moved down into the swampy and craggy land.

Every step that they took towards the Fortress City would come with a quiet sense of dread in the pit of their stomach. It was impossible to say whether it was magic, or simply an influence of the land, but even Selene could feel an odd sense of disquiet slowly creeping into herself.

In the distance, the fog over the city began to grow.

 

[Ania]

Ania's face was flushed with red. To many it may have looked like embarrassment. The social awkwardness of being called out for mumbling by someone in a position of power. To be humiliated in front of ones peers for the dire crime of speaking the truth, but doing so under one's breath.

But it wasn't a sign of embarrassment. It was a seething hatred.

This excuse for a dreadlord was precisely the reason for her frustrations. Some snow white bitch from a weak house like Luana or Pirian or Banick. Her face looked chiseled enough that it was unlikely she'd ever flayed a foreigner or skinned an elf just to make a point. She was probably the kind of person who'd offer mercy or believe that traitors deserved a fair trial of their peers.

"My apologies," Ania spoke earnestly to the level two, she was loyal enough to Vel Anir to know not to break rank. Even if this wretch held less worth than a drunken guardsmen. Before being able to address the specific questions she was asked they had received new orders from their commander.

"Selene has just ordered us to move out, quietly," she said in a calm and low tone.

Rage still burning away at her just beneath the surface the freckled servant of Vel Anir lowered herself into a crouch and moved quickly towards the city. Her boots crushed into the swampy mud silently as she masked her steps while keeping pace. A tingling sense of horror creeping up in her stomach as they drew ever nearer.

Or, perhaps, that sensation was just more unadulterated hatred for the level two.

 

[Evangeline]

Evangeline looked down upon her lesser completely stone faced. She didn't really care if she'd been humiliated or if she'd earned her ire. The Pride of Pirian wasn't here to make friends, she was here to do her job. Doing so would be easier if the lower level Dreadlords didn't try to play hero and instead kept their place in line.

The Second Level wished for a proper answer, but the young woman was right: it was time to move.

"You underestimate the cowardice of your brethren."

An unfortunate truth. And yet, rather than discharge those not fit to serve the powers that be would instead make examples of them, even further crippling morale. A societal issue to mull over another time, to be sure. Evangeline was unfazed by her surroundings nor the order to move out. As the First Level willed it, so it would be. Vel Anir would prune the weak, as it always had.

Evangeline faced forward and took up her march into the marsh, doing her best to shake the feelings of distinct wrongness that permeated the air. She kept an eye on the raven-haired girl...Gods knew that her comrades were some of the least trustworthy people on the planet.

 

[Zana]

Zana cracked her knuckles at the order to move out and then began walking forward. Well, no going back now. As she stepped into the marshy land she drew her blade with a bell like whisper and rested it against her shoulder as they walked, as was the military style. It made no sense to be caught without a weapon in her hand even if she could move things with her mind. That took energy and who knew how long this battle was going to take them. They were Dreadlords after all, it wasn't like their skills were lacking when it came to hand to hand combat.

Perhaps the dread would have bothered her more if she hadn't seen some of the creatures that waited in store for them. Zana's unease and horror had been with her all through the night and it left her free to walk with a confident step a lot of the others were lacking as they made their way through the barren land. Her eyes never moved from the fog. The one thing that had always been constant with the shift in her visions had been that fog and the dangers that were using it as their cover.

Aside from Flo she was keeping her own eye on the two bickering to her left. As much as Dreadlords could bicker. Mentally she made her own bet on which of the two would lash out first, if not on this field today then later perhaps. It looked like the start of a rivalry she was going to enjoy seeing progress.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe marched calmly inline with Zana. Silently, she watched Zana draw her blade and she too followed suit. A small short spear drifted from out of her quiver and into her hand, her set up was too cumbersome to navigate easily. Doubly so when one is wading through a neverending march. She sighed. She hated everything about this mission so far and it only seemed to be getting worse. Her heavy quiver weighed down on her and she soon felt the sinking sensation of the mud rising with every step. While she was far from being consumed by the mud, she didn't particularly enjoy the liquid and muck that was slowly seeping into her clothes.

A quick shake of her head. She breathed. Once, twice, and she was calm. It was times like these she missed her mentor. She was a wind mage, like Florinthe, and had managed a trick wind to enable her to levitate or float with minimal effort. Florinthe was neither efficient enough or possessed the required finesse to manipulate her magic in that manner. Instead, she got by on simple brute force and large reserves. Eventually, however, she knew that would not be enough. She had to get better.

She groaned, another wave of murky liquid flowing into her boots. Again, the sensation of being watched lingered in the back of her mind. The eerie glowing city in the fore drawing near as they approached. She knew, deep down, that whatever was about to transpire was going to be deadly.

 

[Vittorio]

Vittorio snickered at her comment about cowardice. She was far from wrong. It wasn't bravery he was considering. Just their never ending sheep mentality that even he was guilty of. They all did what they were told without question.

It was simpler that way.

He followed Selene in tow, seemingly not making a sound as he stepped. His arms extending from his robes to allow his skin to freely roll back off his hands, his hand skeleton forming sharp deadly claws as they fell back to his side. Fighting beasts with weapons like his own? What an interesting day.

 

[Selene Avar]

The group of Dreadlords moved closer to the city, every step causing that bubble of fear and dread to grow.

Selene tried her best to push it down, shove it away and ignore it entirely, but it was always there. A slow creeping thought that seemed to reach across the mind whether you wanted it to or not. Her lips thinned as she took another step, the echo of a voice reaching through her mind.

They know.

Her head turned briefly, glancing back towards the others for just a moment before she turned back towards the city.

The Walls of Vel Istra were now in full view, their glory more obvious now that they stood only a few hundred meters away. Beautiful masonry stretched into the air, walls taller than five story buildings standing almost entirely unharmed, that soft green glow ebbing from the stone.

Slowly she could see the fog creeping over the walls, her head turning towards one of the Five Gates of Vel Istra.

Without a word she lead the way towards the gate, each step dragging them through the swamp. Beneath their feet something began to move, the earth itself slowly shifting. Off to the right, beyond Selene's sight, a hand began to creep from the ground.

 

[Ania]

Their feet beat against the sloppy earth with a surprisingly satisfying slosh. In a regimented line leaving a wake of footprints behind them. Sometimes the ground would prove too soft and Ania’s leather boot would slip in further than she anticipated. Caking the sides of her ankles in mud and wet vegetation.

Deep within her the dreadlord felt something familiar. Yet, somehow, different. She’d become accustomed to fear, seen it a myriad of times in her victims faces. This was different. It was her own personal slice of terror.

But why?

There wasn’t any living being she’d ever encountered that would inspire fear. No human, elf, dwarf, nor orc had ever caused a sense of absolute dread as she was experiencing in this moment. Whatever lay within Vel Istra was something so vile that even getting near the epicenter of it was causing a slight panic to well up within her.

Best to suppress those feeling and pretend as if nothing was amiss.

Deep in her own thoughts and emotions she was oblivious to the tree limb she tripped over as he foot sank into the soil once more. Nearly felt as if the limb grasped at her lower leg. She looked back and saw nothing but soggy earthen marshland.

‘Need to focus, starting to imagine things,’ she thought to herself.

 

[Evangeline]

The increasing level of unease was tangible, not only within herself, but among the other dreadlords as well if their expressions were anything to go by. Some foul magic was clearly at work here. Evangeline unsheathed her blade preemptively. The last thing she wanted was to be caught unaware by some unseen threat.

Without warning, the Second Level stopped and thrust an arm out to her side to signal those behind her to stop. Among the symphony of sloshing boots there was another sound, far more subtle, within the swamp. It was not the sound of wildlife or the clanking of Anirian plate. It was a dull, droning hum, ambient and ever present, like the buzzing of a gnat but much more guttural. How couldn't she have noticed it before?

Then she saw the first hand shoot forth from the mire, a rotted thing that clawed the air in above it, seeking purchase. A dozen more shot up around it. A withered, decrepit face, green and grey from decay, forced itself out of the swamp in front of her, maggots and worms writhing in holes in its flesh and through an empty eye socket. Evangeline raised her sword as if to strike and called out to her brethren at the top of her lungs.
"Dreadlords of Vel Anir! To arms! The undead rise beneath us!"

No sooner had she finished shouting that she plunged her bastard sword into the corpse's face, the creature's hands falling still immediately. Her eyes darted about. Too many limbs to count were dredging themselves up all around the dreadlords. They were surrounded.

 

[Zana]

"Watch your step," Zana said loud enough to the few House Luana Dreadlords who were near her a full minute before Evangeline gave the cry that the dead were rising. They had long ago learned to take stock of Zana's words of advice but the fear in the air clung to them and clawed its way down their throats to seize their hearts. Her sing-song voice if anything snapped a few out of it and made them more alert to the approaching trouble. When the first few hands did start popping up and then the bodies after them, it was her little group who were ready with grim faces. As for Zana, the adrenaline was just getting pumping and a feral grin etched itself across her face.

The Third Level Dreadlord practically jumped on one with a small childish glee before it could claw its way out of the ground. It was an even happier coincidence that it was an elf whose neck she snapped under the heel of her boot, before decapitating it just to be on the safe side. Another was rising a little way off and with a quick calculated eyeball the Dreadlord booted the elven head square at the risen corpse of a human man. The head arched through the air, whistling past another Dreadlord, to hit the creature square in the face with such force it sent his head snapping backwards and body crumpling to the ground.

The thrill of the fight was the only thing she had ever found that had distracted her from the tiredness and pain of her visions and she revealed in it.

"How about a game?" Zana called over her shoulder to Flo. The creatures were coming quicker and faster now and as Zana stepped, hopping from one rising head to another as stepping stones to stay out of the marshy mud. The result was to smash them back down into the ground enough that one of the apprentices behind her could pick them off with ease. After her third head hop another fully risen monstrosity lunged at her. Crouching low she brought her blade in an upward arch, cutting the creature from the stomach open to the throat. Blood splattered her clean armour. "Most kills, loser buys the winner dinner?"

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Lightning. That would make quick work of the undead. A surge of lightning sent coursing through this dense mud that seemed to spread endlessly across the area. Sparks surged, dancing around her shoulders. Then it ceased. She quelled the idea and thought immediately. She had no doubt the attack would work, but she'd forgotten to consider her allies stood in that very same mud. Many of them wearing heavy plate armour. It was not worth it.

She sighed. Her magic wasn't well suited to fighting enemies slick in the mud. Until the enemies revealed themselves she was pretty much just a regular soldier. An idea flickered in her head. Her earlier thoughts of her master had borne fruit, she just needed a bit of elevation and she could launch some javelins at the monsters as they appeared.

"Deal." She spoke calmly, her eyelids clamping shut and she summoned a violent wind to whip around her. The air stilled, she reached her foot up and stepped on a small platform that had materialised. Another wind, another step, she reached higher. A few seconds and she was stood, a small whitish platform holding her a meter above the mud. Carefully, she withdrew a javelin. A small figure emerged near to the group, she wasted no time. The projectile hurtled and slammed into the creature. The animated corpse exploded into a slurry of maggots and black ichor, sinking back into the ground shortly afterwards.

From her vantage point, she clocked two more fiends and, similarly, answered their arrival with javelins in quick succession. "So, where do you think you'll end up taking me?" She smiled smugly towards her comrade.

 

[Vittorio]

Evangeline's call out earned a turn of the apprentice's head. A light sigh escaped his lips. He crouched low in preparation to pounce on whatever came.

And so it came. Rotten corpses rising from the cause of horrible magic. An absolute drag. Or perhaps not, as his comrades were quick to dispose of many of the undead. He did not want to be caught doing nothing, and so maybe it was time he did anything.

As more corpses rose from the ground Vittorio finally pounced. His claws shredding the upper halves of any and all monsters he came across, leaving them naught but rotten ribbons. An absolute dance of claw and degraded viscera spread across his field of battle.

 

[Selene Avar]

Selene did not stop walking as corpses began to rise from the earth.

They no more hindered her than an insect. One slowly dragged itself from the earth near her, crawling slowly through the swamp before it stood on it's own two feet. There it seemed to linger a moment, searching with a lulled gaze.

Then it spotted her.

With a guttural roar the corpse suddenly rushed forward, it's arms half flailing with an axe in one hand. Selene did not even turn her head, instead simply continuing her progress.

As the monster came within half a dozen steps of her something within the air suddenly seemed to flash. A wall of fire burst from the air itself, erupting suddenly and washing over the corpse in an instant. An infernal scream passed from the creatures mouth as white hot flame immolated the whole of it within the span of a breath.

The same thing happened again, and then again as more of the creatures tried to reach Selene.

Each time they came even close to her reach a white wall of flame simply erased the undead from existence.

Their deaths were not marked, not even noted. Selene simply continued to walk, eventually finding her foot fall onto an old cobbled road directly before the gate.