Realms of War

neck.

'What in the Nine Hells is he doing!' hissed Gerond. 'Have you gone completely mad?'

When there was no response, no break in the night air, Dev honestly wondered if he had gone insane. But he waited, his own eyesight as keen as Morla's in the dark, and where his arrow met gray ogre flesh, he saw a core of blood well up, over shy;flow like a fountain, and bubble down the monster's neck. The ogre had only been playing dead, but Dev had made it true.

Resch shouted a garbled warning. Automatically, Dev pivoted and fired a second shot, aiming at what might have been a drifting shadow. Arrow thudded again into flesh, and this time an animal cry broke out across the battlefield. It was the worst sound Dev had ever heard.

Gods keep us, he thought, we're already surrounded.

'Stay down!' he bellowed. Resch and Gerond scrambled to make room for him as Dev rolled over the dead horse's flank. Viciously, he twisted the animal's legs out of the way to make room for his quiver.

Two more creatures leaped up from their death poses. Dev laid his bow across the saddle and fired, clipping a kobold's haunch. To his right, Resch swung his barbed mace, caving in the skull of the second kobold as he crawled over the makeshift wall to get at them. When the creature stopped twitching, Resch hauled its body up next to the riders, but the cover still felt pitifully inadequate.

The priest chanted a low, monotone prayer, and touched Resch on the shoulder. Green light shone through his fingers, casting hollow, eldritch shadows on the vacant-eyed horse. Then the spell drained away, and Resch's flesh seemed darker, healthier, his movements more precise. The priest then turned to Dev, but Dev waved him off.

'Save it,' he snapped. 'Keep them back. If they get close enough, they'll rip us apart!'

Grimly, Dev thought that seemed precisely the monsters' plan. More bodies became animate from the field, until five stood between them and freedom.

Dev took bowshots at random, more to keep the monsters at bay than with any real aim. He planted a stack of arrows in the mud at his knees, determined to keep shooting until they were too close to pick off.

The priest raised his holy symbol. His eyes were closed, so Dev couldn't tell if he was frightened or merely concentrat shy;ing. The monotone chant sounded again. Dev thought he must be seeing things. He could actually see the spell cloud seeping from the priest's lips, a white fog that had no scent, and no more consistency than pipeweed smoke. The divine magic drifted past Dev's cheek, numbing him with cold. Dev recoiled, and his next shot went wild.

The monsters took the distraction and scurried closer, using the bodies of their own slain companions to absorb Dev's shots.

'Get that mace ready, sharp tongue!' Dev cried. 'They're coming in for a visit!'

He grabbed the silent man by the shoulder, but Resch didn't move. He was doubled over, his forehead against the ground. He clutched his stomach, his mouth slack in sound shy;less pain. Dev couldn't see the wound, but the way Resch's body convulsed told him it was bad. It had happened so fast, the attack, and now they would be overrun. He hadn't even broken a sweat.

Furious, defeated, Dev fired blindly into the night. He didn't care if he ran out of arrows. He'd take some of the bastards down with him. Damn them and damn Morla for trusting a charlatan.

Resch had managed to maim one of the kobolds before he went down. The creature limped away, clutching a ruined leg. Dev took one more in the eye when it looked out from its hiding place. There were still three left, too many for himself and the worthless priest.

Dev hooked the bow on the slanted saddle horn. He'd never been skilled enough to wield a sword, but his fists would serve. He was about to vault over the horse when he felt the vibration.

He wasn't able to identify the source at first. But then the white mist came again, this time emanating from the dead horse's mouth.

Atrophied muscles contracted, and the beast's bent legs jerked weirdly back into their proper alignment. Dev fell back on his elbows, too frightened to put up a defense against the advancing monsters. His mouth hung open, horrified at the sight of the dead horse rising up before him, dragging her limp rider across her back.

The animal got to its feet in time to block the final advance of an ogre and its kobold minions. The creatures hesitated, as stunned as Dev by the animated horse. The beast's black mane was pressed to its back by dried blood. A long sword slash cut across its neck, exposing musculature and white bone.

Shaking itself, the horse reared. It turned on the closest kobold, spewing white vapor and with its dead rider in tow. Rotting hooves came down, trampling the creature before it could run. Horse screams joined the dying kobold's pitiful wailing.

The remaining kobold and ogre fled. Dev could hear the priest casting another spell. He turned in time to see a cluster of black shadows hanging in midair. The lifeless forms shaped into the outline of some kind of mallet or hammer.

Dev watched it spin through the air, slamming into and through the back of the retreating ogre's skull. Shadows and blood exploded in the air, and a second hammer followed the first. Dev waited for it to find the skull of the fleeing, screaming kobold, wondering if the creature would feel the same numbing chill Dev had tasted when the priest's magic touched him.

Then the shadows were spinning toward him, blocking out the moon. Dev didn't realize the hammer was meant for his skull until it was almost too late. He ducked, but the spectral weapon clipped him on the side of the head.

Dev thought he felt his eardrum shatter. He fell sideways, one arm crushed under him, his body hitting the ground like a limp doll's-or a dead horse, he thought. He appreciated the irony for a breath until he lost consciousness.

I know what yer thinking, and it's absolutely right. He could have killed us at any time. He had something a little more painful in mind.

— From the memoirs of Devlen Torthil

'Don't worry,' Gerond said, 'your friend won't be in pain much longer. The poison will soon run its course.'

For an interminable amount of time since he'd regained consciousness, Dev had been watching Resch squirm and convulse on the ground. Every muscle in his body stretched taut, it looked like the man would rip himself apart before it was over. Sweat poured down Resch's face, but he never made a sound. The silence was the worst part. Dev thought he could have handled it better if the dying man had been screaming obscenities.

'The spell is an interesting twist on traditional invigora shy;tion magic,' Gerond explained, as if Dev was curious. 'For a brief time, it strengthens the target immeasurably, but at the cost of disintegrating many of the vital functions of the body. That part of the process takes a bit more time.'

'Cyric preach that one to all his followers, or just the fat ones?' Dev asked. His head throbbed, and his muscles were stiff where the priest had tied his arms. Taunts were the only weapons he had left.

'To think I almost killed you while you were sleep shy;ing,' Gerond said. He knelt next to Dev and twisted his head around by the hair. 'Lucky for you, I wanted one last conversation.'

Pain flooded Dev's skull, and he whimpered involuntarily at the sight of the shadowy hammer floating in midair above the Cyricist's shoulder. He forced a laugh, though his jaw was locked with pain.

'No wonder your herbs reeked,' he murmured. 'And they call me the blasphemer.'

Gerond smiled faintly. 'You don't know what a relief it is not to have to play the charade any longer. Or do you? Do you ever grow tired of being the deceiver, Devlen?'

Dev would have shrugged, if the pain of it hadn't threatened to put him out again. 'All I know,' he said, his eyes straying to the dead kobolds lying nearby, 'is you killed your companions.'

'True, but like you, they're not very reliable.' Gerond leaned forward, flipping Dev onto his stomach with a casual hand.

He's stronger than I thought, Dev realized sickly. His breath quickened, thinking the priest was going to cave in his skull after all, but instead he felt the priest clasp one of his bound hands.

'Why are you out here, fighting for Amn?' Gerond asked. 'What is between you and the commander? I might be able to use it later, but either way, it will satisfy my curiosity.'