Book 1 - Chapter 4: Kemdri and the Dragon Heart.
"Though undead, it is still inexorably human. Look, it is curious now. It no longer fights against the barrier." The deeper echoing voice in the depths of the cave spoke to the others.
"Curious. Are you going to continue to treat it that way after the end?" The second voice questioned the deeper one.
"That depends how well the spell works. With the containment power waning, you may not have enough to fully overcome." The deep voice continued, as if it hoped for failure.
"I will have enough. Won't you lend me some if I do not?" The second voice tried to dissuade the deep one.
"That is what I am here for, if I can find a way to tap the ley energies of this cave." A third voice, higher and more well-spoken then either of the others interrupted
"And you also assume that I have heart to make a sacrifice with." The deep voice challenged the second voice. "You would be better in oblivion. I only do this because you have earned the respect of my people."
"Look he's coming closer… let us continue this work." The second voice stopped the deep voice as its owner watched Maldelic again touch the crystal veins on the wall.
/-/
"Oh, it's so cold today! Is it really going to get colder than this?" Arisia trudged along beside Methuselah and the others.
After escaping from the ice trolls, the group had headed west into the Great Dragonblight along an ancient well-beaten pathway which laid in a wide pass between tall mountains to the North and South. Another month had passed for them, and they were emerging from the wide mountain pass into a vast snowed-over tundra. The snowy plain was truly legendary in that it was said to house shrines for each of the mighty dragon flights as well as a massive temple dedicated to guarding the masses of dragon remains which littered the ground throughout the Dragonblight. As Methuselah had feared, the Dragonblight was much a much colder area of Northrend than the Grizzly Hills. With their shared knowledge and skill the group had thankfully managed to cobble together warmer coverings for themselves. Mostly, they had just tied furs over their existing outfits. However, Methuselah knew that this would not be good enough once they were on the open plain of the Dragonblight. Additionally, the sun had reached its highest point in the sky and begun to retreat lower again. Soon the days would grow shorter and the paladin felt that they would not survive if they did not make it to permanent shelter before winter.
"I'm afraid it will. We usually traveled South to Quel'Thalas during the worst winter months and arrived back here in the spring. Those who stayed at the base camp kept in their houses and close to their hearths most of the time. If we can make it back to the southern shore before the nights become longer than the days, then we will survive. I only hope that those walrus-men I've heard about will be more approachable than the trolls," Methuselah orated as they walked on, "it's about the only option we have now. Do you think you'll make it?"
"I can. I'm just not looking forward to it," Arisia explained with a smile and continued to walk beside the man. Ever since they had left the Grizzly Hills, she had been much more focused on Methuselah. The man paid her attention, but to her disappointment, Arisia felt that he was more focused on the mission and didn't notice that she was trying to show him how she felt. However, Arisia was quite sure the others could tell from how they gave odd looks at her constant closeness and interest towards Methuselah.
"Would you care for something warm?" Ranilok snapped his fingers and summoned a small warm sweet roll for the girl.
"Oh what a waste of mana," Arisia commented at her friend's trick. However, the aroma quickly won her over and she dropped back next to Ranilok to take the snack from him.
Ranilok often chose to dote on Arisia in this manner as they continued their journey. He had not missed Arisia's obvious attraction to Methuselah. However, since Arisia had started to step forth more boldly and embrace her role as a hunter, Ranilok found he could not take his eyes off of her. 'I saw you looking before you got infatuated with him,' Ranilok thought, 'you're so much more interesting now. What do you like about him though? Do you admire his power? Do you pity him for his sad story?' the elf asked Arisia in his mind. Truly, he could not understand or accept that Arisia wanted to be with a human. 'He's no young buck either,' Ranilok often said to himself, 'how long could they even truly spend together.' Having known Arisia when they were children, he also often thought 'I've certainly more right to court her than he does.' However, not wanting to spark a confrontation with the paladin, he kept to trying to win her favor through small things that would not draw the wrong sort of attention.
"Ey, ye got anae 'ouses ye can summon laek that, sonny?" Gevran pasted faux annoyance across his face and poked Ranilok in the back with his walking stick.
"Oh, by Sunstrider, fine." Ranilok recognized what Gevran truly was after and produced a similar sweet roll for everyone then trodded onwards with them.
"A sweet roll in the middle of Northrend; I suppose mages really can be quite handy." Methuselah commented as he worked on his roll.
Laughing at Methuselah's remark, Arisia caught up with him again and began to chat more about what he knew of the Dragonblight. "Tell me more of the dragon shrines," she started.
Meanwhile as the girl chatted over what Methuselah knew of the beautiful shrines and the ancient temples, Ranilok simmered behind them. 'Great, I'm useful for cheap tricks? I have so many more uses than that and I was never afraid to use my power!' Ranilok berated the paladin in his mind. 'There is power out there, I know it! If I can claim it than I'll surely show Arisia that Methuselah is not worth her time.'
The power of which Ranilok spoke was truly massive in scale. From his history of travel, Ranilok was especially sensitive to the flows of magical energy in Azeroth. All Elves had a connection to the magic of Azeroth through a sacred site in their lands known as the Sunwell. This well of magic-infused water poured forth energy across the lands of Quel'thalas constantly and kept the elves suffused in magic. The Elves had become so used to this feeling of connection to magic that most never questioned its presence. Those who did question its presence paled to think of what life would be like without it. Having traveled for so long outside of Quel-thalas, Ranilok knew the difference between being in the presence of the Sunwell and being at a great distance. In Northrend he used an attuned necklace to boost his tie to the Sunwell, but now he was sensing something which was putting out a much smaller but stronger magical field. Ranilok doubted that its power was limitless like the Sunwell, but it was more concentrated and thus he thought it was perhaps something he could take for himself. Whatever the power was they were drawing closer to it, and Ranilok intended to take it for his own purposes once they reached it.
"What's that ahead?" Arisia stopped with Methuselah as the group passed over the crest of a rise in the path on which they traveled.
"Well, this place is called the Dragonblight for a reason. I've said before that it is where all aging dragons come to die." Methuselah peered at the set of large off-white shapes sticking out of the snow.
"A dragon skeleton?" Arisia looked excited, this being the first truly amazing thing she had seen on this difficult and unexpected journey across Northrend.
"Most definitely," Methuselah confirmed as he stared at the now-identified bones.
As the two started chatting more about dragons, Ranilok raced around his own mind in glee. 'That must be it! Dragons could possess powerful trinkets, so the source must be with a dead dragon,' he thought. Peering at this skeleton, the elf concentrated and his expression turned down slightly. 'Not this one. It must be a dragon though," he reassured himself upon not sensing the magical source in the bones at which they group now stared.
"Not to interrupt your bit of fun here." Beatrice walked up from the back of the group with Gevran, "but does anyone else smell fire?"
"You're not holding a fireball under your clothes again are you, Ranilok?" Methuselah turned to Ranilok and asked the elf in reference to a poor and unsuccessful trick to keep warm that he had tried when they had first crossed into the Dragonblight. Seeing Ranilok shake his head in annoyance, Methuselah turned to sniff the air elsewhere. Definitely picking up the scent of smoke that was coming from a distance, Methuselah quickly began searching around the horizon for the source. Focusing on the skeleton, the man thought he could barely see infrequent wisps of smoke coming from the center of the enormous ribcage. Whatever had started a fire had chosen to start it inside the dead dragon ahead. "Let's approach carefully. We don't want to come across as hostile, but we also don't want to be caught unaware."
Slowly creeping closer to the dragon skeleton, which had not been too far from the crest of the hill which had hidden it from their view before, the group only took a short time to reach their destination. Upon finally coming within a few yards of the bones, they were suddenly shocked by a new voice. "Aye! Who ye be tae be sneakin' up on me?"
Startled by the voice in return, the party stopped in their tracks as Methuselah looked round towards the voice. The man quickly found the source to be ashen-skinned dwarf who was dressed in proper heavy clothing for the cold and who wielded an interesting purple-black staff with a deep blue gem inside of it. "It's okay, we're just travelers," Methuseah held his hands up innocently.
Sizing the group up for a few moments, the ashen-skinned dwarf did not look worried or threatened in the least. Finally noticing Gevran, he gave a disdainful chuckle and replied to them. "Well then ye be as dumb as thae blue paint on that one's 'ead,"
"Ey! Well what de ye be doin' up 'ere anaeway, Dark Irn? Should ye not be in yer mountain bowin tae that fire ye called up ages ago?" Gevran gave the stranger, a Dark Iron Dwarf, equal lip in return.
"Both of you stop it," Methuselah called out and stood between them. "Gevran, he's the first person we've met since we landed with whom we can communicate. Please, just drop it," the man turned to his dwarf companion and pleaded. Looking to the stranger next, he made a similar appeal. "Our camp was destroyed by something that I can't really explain in only a few words. We've seen no one outside our group for months out here. Would you put aside your enmities to speak with us?"
Waving his hand dismissively at Gevran, the stranger walked back inside the perimeter of tall dragon rib bones. "Ye can all come in, but ae be keepin mae eye on that Wild'ammer."
Nodding, Methuselah cautiously led his group inside the skeleton. While the bones were still open to the air, the stranger had packed down the snow heavily inside their perimeter, pitched a tent, and set up a good collection of belongings. Clearly, he had been living inside this skeleton for some time. Of the belongings, the most interesting to the group as a whole was a large black stone golem which stared unblinkingly at them from its resting place near the stranger's tent. The golem had a shelf for the stranger's belongings mounted on one shoulder and a rough-hewn seat mounted on the other. Whoever the stranger was, he had come to Northrend with much more extensive preparations than Methuselah's group had been able to make in their situation.
"What is this?" Arisia went over to the golem and poked at it.
"Ye be careful missy!" the stranger looked over and warned suddenly and urgently as the stone golem raised its arms on either side of Arisia as if it meant to clap them together and crush her like a buzzing fly.
"Ahh!" Arisia froze, "what do I do?"
"Jus back oot of aes 'ands slowly," the gray skinned dwarf instructed the girl as she carefully complied. "Nae one else touch that. Aet be a Blackrock Golem, aet only accepts me," he warned next. Walking over and tending to a pot of stew that was cooking over the fire in the campsite, the stranger watched as Methuselah and the others came closer to his fire to warm themselves up. "Ae be Kemdri Brazenfist, thae great Dark Irn mage, an' ae not be a servant a thae Firelord. Now if ye be wantin' any a mae stew, then ye be tellin me ye story first."
As Methuselah looked around, he could see the others with the exception of Gevran looking quite intently at the stew-pot. Over their journey, the group had been able to catch animals and cook them. However, they were not prepared with seasonings or any sorts of vegetables aside from the poor growths they could claw out of the icy rocks or perhaps a few of the safer-looking cave mushrooms. Kemdri was cooking what smelled to be a properly seasoned stew, complete with all of the savory ingredients that Methuselah and his companions had sorely missed since their landing. Looking out for their interests and his own stomach, the man conceded and took a seat across the pot from Kemdri.
Going through the tale of his caravan, the strange citadel and walking dead along the shore who ravaged the camp, their first journey to look for logging camps, and their current drive to head south and seek winter refuge with the walrus-men, Methuselah shared as much detail about what they had faced as he felt safe. In his mind, they had little to lose at this point from sharing such information. Also introducing each of the other party members, Methuselah shared less about them as he felt the strange dwarf only really needed to know why they were there and not who they were. Throughout the conversation, Kemdri alternately looked concerned, entertained, and uninterested. However, it was clear that their suffering and hardship did not elicit much sympathy in the dark dwarf.
When Methuselah was finally finished, Kemdri served up stew for them and himself before speaking. However, only five bowls were served as Gevran refused to sit at the fire and instead kept his distance and meditated up closer to the half-buried skull of the dragon in which they sat. "Ye should be glaed ye weren't followed. Those undead 'ave been showin' up all aeround. Ae'd think yer loggin' camps 'ave been cleared out by 'em. Ae've been travelin this wasteland fer years, but only in the past few aet's been bad. Walkin' corpses, some smarter thaen others. Ae've won aegainst 'em in, but ye can't defeat 'em all; thaer be tae many." The dwarf of the Brazenfist family explained, all too pleased to be able to ignore Gevran as the others ate.
"Oh my..." Arisia murmured in a fright. She had become much more durable to fright, timidity, and other worries like it, but the scale of what Kemdri explained was enough to make her shiver from more than the cold wind.
"So if they're so dangerous than why are you out here?" Beatrice asked between bites of her stew. While her people had a much better relationship with the Ironforge Dwarves and not the Dark Iron Dwarves, she was not concerned enough to turn the meal down in the same manner as Gevran.
"Ye mean ye 'ave not 'erd thae tale?" Kemdri asked incredulously before remembering he was in essence speaking to beleagured refugees. "Ae suppose ye would not 'ave. Well, ye at least know ye be on thae Dragonblight?"
"I think the bones are a bit of a sign," Beatrice dryly remarked, finishing her stew.
"Yeh, well thae legends tell ae this one dragon, Stroyagos ae the blue flight." Kemdri started spinning the tale.
"The blue flight doesn't exist. They were all killed long before humans or my people walked our homelands," Ranilok insisted, knowing at least a fraction of dragon lore.
"Not 'round 'ere, boy. Thae blue flight haes returned tae thae skies now, ae seen 'em with me own eyes. But, ye be raeght thaet aet was not always thaet way. Thaes one dragon though, 'e lived whaen most aev aes flight waer killed. Thaen 'e lived on for so long an' gained so much power that when 'e finally died haes heart turned tae a rock ae pure magic. Ae could claim it, an mae people could be free ae thae Firelord if we used aets power tae send aem back tae thae Firelands. So, aet will be mine!" Kemdri grinned.
Knowing that this heart of pure magic had to be the source that he sensed, Ranilok felt the urge for a moment to shove this dwarf's head into the stew pot. However, on remembering the rather imposing golem nearby, Ranilok stayed his hand. "Do you know where it is?" he slipped in a question, trying to come across as earnestly curious.
"Aet be out 'ere, an thaet be all ae be sayin'." Kemdri kept up his guard, sensing that the elf was also a mage.
"Well, never mind then. I'm not really concerned." Ranilok lied in return as he thought 'we'll see who gets to it first' to himself.
"Well, I can only wish you the best of luck on your mission," Methuselah said as he finished his stew. Keeping mind to Gevran's clear distaste for the meeting, he stood up to get hurried on. "We need to make further progress South today, so thank you for the information and the food."
"Aye. Well, ae be expecting that ye be headin' South quickly. Ye 'ave nae buisiness wanderin' thae blight an' ae dinnae want tae see ye pokin' around," Kemdri told them in tone that almost seemed like a threat. "Tae make ye want tae travel quicker, ae tell ye that ye plan for thae Tuskarr, thaet be what thae walrus-men be called, should be workin'. Ae stayed with 'em before meself," the gray dwarf encouraged Methuselah's party to head South, making it perfectly clear that he would not tolerate any interference in his mission from them.
Very glad to hear this last bit of information, Methuselah led his friends out and South from the dragon skeleton, hoping to put enough distance between them and Kemdri that Gevran would stop glowering. While everyone else in the party seemed quite pleased with their rest and meal, Gevran's face was filled with disapproval and annoyance as they trudged on. Still, Methuselah could not feel brought down by this disharmony. If the dwarf of the Dark Iron clan was to be believed, then their goal had finally become a real goal. Knowing for once that his goal might be achievable strengthened Methuselah's resolve along with that of the rest of the group.
Once they were clearly out of sight and earshot of the camp, Arisia was the first to appeal to Gevran for some answers. "So, what was the problem between you and Kemdri?" she asked outright.
"O' nothin' that be so important that ye couldn't sit down tae eat with 'aem." Gevran sarcastically griped. "Daed it taste like hot death? Thad be what ae'd expect from ae damn Dark Irn."
"I needed to get information from him, and we have very useful information now. We know that we are headed to a real place and that they just might accept us there for the Winter. I'm sorry it offended you, Gevran, but it's the first good information we've had in ages." Methuselah apologized and tried to explain himself.
"What did they do to get you so offended?" Arisia inquired further, still not understanding Gevran's burning anger. "He said he was trying to save his people from something. What was it, the Firelord?"
"Thae ruined thae ancient home ae mae clan! Aet sit in thae hills cursed bae dark magic. Aen thaen in thaer greed for power, thae summoned the lieutenant ae an old god intae this world. Thae be the reason that Blackrock Mountain be burnin' with lava an all the lands aeround it be scorched. Thae still be practicing those magics! Daed ye hear thaet 'un call 'aemself a 'great mage'? We dwarves ain meant tae be mages like ye... but Dark Irns try tae be em anyway. Ae dun believe aem. Ae dun knae what 'aell do when 'e has thae heart, but ae dun think aet could be anae good!" Kemdri explained, his voice shaking with anger at some points in the story.
"That's horrible." Arisia regretted having sat down so cheerfully, but she could not regret the warm meal she had just eaten. "We'd better keep going longer today. I don't want to camp anywhere near him."
"Well, there is something else we could do," Ranilok suggested as he sensed his moment had come.
"I really don't want to start a fight with a stone golem," Methuselah responded, thinking he knew Ranilok's plans.
"Neither do I," Ranilok started again, "but if Kemdri is such a bad dwarf and will do such horrible things with the heart then we could always take it first."
"Ae won't argue thaet ae'd not laek tae see aet in 'aes 'ands." Gevran seemed mildly interested in Ranilok's idea.
"But Ranilok, Kemdri said he had been searching these wastelands for years! He also gave us a fairly obvious warning about poking around out there. Now that we know the Tuskaar might shelter us, we have to make it to the coast as soon as we can. Getting lost out here isn't an option," Methuselah argued heavily against the endeavor.
"Yes, but you have an elven mage with you and he doesn't. We're sensitive to strong sources of arcane magic. I can sense it, I know it. It's just Southwest of here. If I could tap into its powers I might be able to use it to take us all home," Ranilok bluffed in the hope that he might be able to do something so amazing with that much power.
"Are you serious?" Beatrice looked up at the elf with a deadpan expression.
"Yes. Yes, I'm sure I could get us home with an artifact that powerful," the elf promised, reassuring himself at the same time.
Looking to Arisia and Gevran, then to Beatrice and Ranilok, Methuselah tried to weigh the decision quickly. He had never heard good things about Dark Iron dwarves, but Methuselah realized he was biased by his dealings with the other clans. Also, Ranilok seemed far too eager for possession of the heart to him. In any case, a shorter path to home was in the best interest of the group, and Methuselah decided he could not ignore that. "Fine then, we make straight for the heart. You're in the lead, Ranilok."
With a quicker pace than normal, the five hurried off of their due south course in pursuit of where Ranilok's senses lead them. It quickly became apparent to Methuselah and the others that 'just Southwest' was a rather large 'just'. The afternoon quickly peeled away as they kept heading at full pace toward the heart. Still, Ranilok began to burn with a mad desire and kept going ever forward to claim his prize. 'Just a bit further, I know it!' he thought as he plodded on, 'I'll show them all what a mage with true power can do then.'
"Ranilok, look out!" Arisia called to the elf and caused him to stop short.
Teetering on the edge of a large ravine in the snow-covered landscape, Ranilok looked down at the distant bottom of the rift. As he ran, the elf had thought there was a simple cliff ahead of them. However, that higher bank was separated from the edge on which he now balanced by a twenty yard divide. 'Gah, what's in my head?' the elf carefully leaned himself backwards away from the cliff as he thought on how he had run toward danger so readily and without watching. However, before Ranilok could lean or balance away from the cliff successfully, the earth beneath him broke away and he fell.
Diving after him instinctually, Arisia grabbed her friend's arm and fell flat on the snow to hold him at the top of the cliff. "By the sun, don't you watch where you're going?" Arisia called in frustration as she tried to sit up and pull her friend up over the cliff. The snow would have none of it though, and started to give way beneath her. Not wanting to fall along with the fool, Arisia laid flat and held him there as best as she could.
Taking a shot next, Methuselah crept closer along the cliff to try and hold out his hammer for Ranilok's other hand. However, he felt the ground near him start to shift as he came within distance and quickly shifted his weight to his other foot to avoid sending the whole cliff side down into the rift. "I can't get to him."
Looking down into the deep and up at the far cliff's side, Ranilok hung on tightly to Arisia's arm. 'She's willing to save me? She must care for me at least a little bit then. Why would you save someone when you've nothing to gain or nothing you want? Is that why she likes him, because he saved so many people back in the Second War?' Seeing Methuselah venture out and then creep back, Ranilok thought of the man. 'You can't save me or you won't bother risking it? Is this how you take out your competition? We were getting on quite well before all this. I was starting to respect you. Why do you let Arisia be interested in you? Humans aren't deserving of elven women.'
"Ranilok, we're slipping. I can feel the ground shifting under us," Arisia called over the cliff to the man. "Can you do anything, can you push yourself up the cliffside?"
Brought back from his paranoid thoughts by her call, Ranilok regained his senses and looked up at the far cliff side again. "By Sunstrider, I hope this works!" Ranilok gripped onto Arisia as tightly as he could and cast a powerful spell. Suddenly, both Arisia and Ranilok blinked out of sight for a moment and re-appeared safely back from the edge on the far side. "I did it! I saved us!" he said in relief, feeling a sudden exhaustion from spending so much of his mana. Normally such short range teleports were easy, but carrying another person made things exponentially harder. Feeling suddenly squeezed, Ranilok noticed that Arisia was hugging him tightly in relief. Taking a moment to enjoy it, he congratuated himself on the victory in both casting spells and with Arisia. However, that victory was quickly stripped from the elf on looking to the Southwest again. "You better get over here, you need to see this!" Ranilok broke away from the Arisia's hug and called back with cupped hands.
"That daen't sound good," Gevran commented as he took out another of his shamanistic totems from his bag. "Thaes won't be tae hard. Ae jus couldn't hae risked losing thaem when thaed been hanging," the dwarf commented as he raised the totem above him and called to the power of the earth. Quickly, the collapsing hillside riled itself up and formed into a strong rough-stone bridge across the rift. "Raet, be quick now," Gevran motioned for the other two to get across the bridge and then followed soon after.
Once the five were together again, they looked at the field before them. A dragon skeleton much more massive than the one in which Kemdri camped laid in the field. All around it, the ground had been turned a sickly black-blue and an enormous army of shambling corpses roamed about the ruin. Looking to Ranilok, Methuselah saw him nod that this dragon was indeed the source of the power he sensed. Looking down in disbelief at what they would have to face next to get the heart, Methuselah briefly considered abandoning this quest. However, a moment later he caught sight of a group of robed figures bringing a horse-drawn sled towards the sickly looking ground. The corpses did not pursue these robed figures, and they even seemed to part for them to pass.
"Someone is controlling these things," Methuselah muttered as he watched. Getting the others' attention, he pointed at the dragon skeleton. "Look, some of them just stand aimlessly and the others are moving guiding that sled so precisely," the man shared. Noticing something else by the skeleton, he gasped. "What's that? That tall one is glowing. What are those, chains circling around it? Is that their leader? By the light, an organized army of corpses. What kind of damage could they do if they had something like the heart at their disposal?"
"We have to get in there and stop them," Arisia responsibly spoke up, disgusted at the idea that someone might be behind the walking dead and the loss of the caravan's camp. "Even if we'd never met Kemdri, we'd need to stop them!"
As if summoned by his name, the Gray skinned dwarf suddenly landed beside as the ground around them quaked. The Dark Iron mage was sitting on the shoulder of his golem and had just vaulted over the ravine. Quickly taking stock of the situation, he glared at the group angrily. "So ye really be after thae heart too? Ae was wise tae be following ye! Ae thank ye for thae guidance! Nae, thaes be mine!" Kemdri called from atop the stone golem and rushed headlong into sick-looking ground ahead.
Immediately addressing this assault, many of the idle corpses began to charge at the rampaging stone golem. Watching this, Methuselah was glad they had not been Kemdri's target as the stone golem rapidly started knocking the corpses into the air while Kemdri lit them up with arcane and fire magic. This exchange continued for some time as the group caught their breath. While they knew it was urgent to reach the heart before him, Methuselah held the group back on the notion that Kemdri's progress would not be quick enough to warrant rushing into battle unprepared. Quickly validated, Methuselah saw that the sheer numbers of the army around Stroyagos quickly surrounded Kemdri and halted his progress towards the dragon's skeleton.
"Ae'll krush ye! Ae'll 'ave ye, ye wee bastards!" Kemdri yelled out at the undead as more of them turned and mobbed him.
Finally ready, Methuselah stood up and proclaimed: "undead are created through an abomination of shadow magics. Only we can take them out - only the light," Methuselah raised his hammer and it glowed brightly. "Orcs used undead during the Second War. Whoever is controlling these bodies hasn't learned the same lesson they did," the man turned to Ranilok. "Have you recovered enough?"
"Waiting on you. We have to get to the heart before Kemdri does!" Ranilok stood up with the others.
"And you, Arisia?" Methuselah was still concerned for asking the girl to kill.
"They died already," Arisia held out her arm and summoned her bow, "I'm just putting them back to rest."
"Let's go then!" Methuselah took his hammer handle in both hands and rushed for the army of the dead surrounding the bones of Stroyagos. "Head right for the glowing one! If they have the heart already, it has to be with that one."
"Aye, great. Verae dwarven of ye, pickin oot thae big one!" Gevran rushed in with them as Beatrice faded away to sneak around to the far side.
Already distracted by Kemdri, who was quickly losing his faithful stone golem to the undead hordes, the tall glowing undead did not see the other group coming until they were prepared to engage. Rushing in near the sled which the hooded figures had slid towards the ribcage of the dragon skeleton, Methuselah hit the camp like a mountain giant clubbing a deer. The paladin was immediately beset by two ghouls, but their attacks fell short due to the holy light that shielded him. Turning one back in abject horror of the light and exorcising the other Methuselah started to pound away with his hammer.
"Well it's cold up here; they must not like fire either." Ranilok reasoned as the ground below a pack of the undead glowed with fire and a great pillar of flame shot up in the middle of the group.
As they fell, more undead who had been inside the skeleton ran out and joined combat. The army of corpses seemed limitless, and when they to any conventional means they just seemed to get picked back up again.
"It's must be be that big one making them stand back up! What is that glow around it? Ice?." Methuselah yelled as he noticed the tall fully-skeletal undead casting spells. "Watch my back, I'm going after it!"
Seeing Methuselah move towards him, the commanding undead, a Lich, raised his hand and called several of the undead move to protect him. It was clear that this creature was asserting local authority over the army around him.
"Ye be traen' tae take what be mine!" Kemdri called out, standing on the head of his now-defeated stone golem as he blasted at any undead who tried to crawl up to him. "Ae naever should 'ave talked tae aeone who been workin' with ae Wild'ammer!"
"Oh, be quiet!" Beatrice suddenly spoke from behind Kemdri and his golem. The Gnome was stealthily jumping between the heads of the zombies beneath her and clubbing each of them as she did. Before the dwarf could react to her presence, she jumped to the golem's shoulder and knocked the angry dwarf out cold.
Nodding to Beatrice, Methuselah bowed his head again and called down the protection of the light. "Holy Light, protect me! Defend me in battle!" Charging through the masses of undead, the paladin's shield of light effortlessly pushed them aside. Reaching the lich, the man quickly began making shattering swings at the tall bone construct. The undead were quick to react and turn and strike out at Methuselah, but as soon as they did the ground beneath them lit up with holy light of Methuselah's consecration. "This is holy ground, leave this place or die!" Methuselah yelled. Affected by the consecration, the undead let out horrible screeches as their bodies caught aflame and burned to ash.
"'e's gonnae get 'emself killed laek that!" Gevran stopped sending lightning bolts at the undead and started channeling the magics of nature to restore Methuselah's energies and heal his wounds.
Having been entertained at first, the lich was now angered at the meddling of these fleshy intruders. Mustering its full magical strength, the lich began to fire freezing magics at Methuselah, blasting him backwards with constant buffets of cold wind. The surge of troops around the lich would have made it impossible for Methuselah to move if his holy aura had not been incinerating some of the bodies and causing others to turn and flee. Enraged at the continued losses the Lich prepared a massive spell, firing a continuing blast-wave of icy wind at the paladin and buffeting him back very forcefully.
"Ranilok!" Methuselah called out to his friend, needing the mage's fire magics more than ever.
"I've got it!" the elf blinked forwards in front of Methuselah and fired a strong cone of flame at the lich, counteracting its ice magic and distracting the skeletal creature for a moment.
Charging once more, Methuselah threw his hammer and the lich, stunning it momentarily. Reaching the undead and taking his hammer back up, Methuselah called up to the grim commander of the army around them. "I call the retribution of the light upon you!" With this powerful ability called forth, the lich was now hurting himself by taking any action against Methuselah. Taking up the fight again, the paladin's hammer smashed through the different parts of the undead's armor and bone. Then, in one final powerful hammer stroke, Methuselah executed the lich.
Releasing a horrible and deafening wail that was loud enough to wake Kemdri from his sap-induced slumber, the lich's remaining bones lost all cohesion and he fell to the sickly ground below. With the defeat of their leader, many of the undead fell to the ground again and more simply stood in anticipation of their next order. Only the ghouls and skeletons who were actively trying to reach Kemdri continued to claw at his feet, which were locked around the stone-golem's head.
Breathing heavily in the cold air, Methuselah looked down and saw a small container where the lich had been. "This was in our training from the Second War… a phylactery… powerful undead can regenerate if these are left intact." The paladin called down a strong holy spell, shattering the container and incinerating its contents. Now taking stock of the rest of the scene, Methuselah ran to Ranilok. "Where is it?" he looked concerned.
"I still sense it," Ranilok looked around, "we must be near it."
"Ye saense it? Ye can saense it an ye daedn't say anaething? Ye bastard!" Kemdri yelled out, having heard the mage's words. Unfortunatelty for him, he could do nothing else about confronting them with the ghouls still milling around his deadened stone golem.
Before the group could take any action to locate the heart, the air was split by the most massive and horrifying roar that they had ever heard. Looking up, they saw a dragon skeleton wreathed in rotted tendons and filled with blue flame circling overhead. If the beast had not been so rotten it would have been completely majestic, but this dragon inspired dread instead of awe.
"The sled!" Methuselah and Ranilok said in unison as they looked down from the flying creature.
Quickly running to the sled with everyone else, Methuselah jumped into the driver's seat and everyone else piled in the back. Looking to see what was in the sled, he saw a leather satchel and quickly flipped it open to see what was inside. Suddenly feeling his hand get hot as it brushed against the surface of the object inside, he drew his and away in response. 'By the light, that must be it; that must be the heart!' the man thought. Seeing the horses next, he noticed that they were as skeletal as the dragon that now flew above them. "Well… hya?" Methuselah slapped the reins as the undead horses before the sled took off away from the skeleton and the remaining undead. Turning south again, they rode hard to get away from the undead army and this bone dragon that flew above.
"Daemn et! Curse them!" Kemdri yelled as he finally managed to cast his own teleportation spell to the edge of the blighted land. Thankfully for his sake, the dwarf teleported just before the undead dragon in the sky breathed blue flame upon the entire sickly patch of land and incinerated everything within it. Looking South after the sled, Kemdri threw his arms up in the air as the thieves who had taken his prize were already out of sight. "Ye bastards! Ae'll hunt ye down for this!"
