Ralph took the swords, wiped the blood from the blades, and then sheathed them. He walked to the cliff’s edge and peered down at the massacred monster that had splattered on a crag a few dozen paces beneath. Infernal Essence drifted from the corpse, and he closed his eyes to concentrate. He gritted his teeth from the effort of drawing the substance upward, but after a few moments, it was already siphoning into his sigil. He stopped halfway through the process and turned to his men.
“You can have the rest,” he said.
The pirates jumped at the opportunity for more spoils while Zarrik stood beside Ralph. He didn’t absorb any of the essence, likely because he thought he didn’t deserve it by almost dying. Ralph had almost died, too, but he wouldn’t give up the opportunity for essence just for the sake of honor. He would provide his men with some of the spoils, so he wasn’t entirely without honor.
Zarrik slung his crescent-bladed axe over his shoulder and slapped Ralph’s shoulder. “Shall we continue, Chief?”
“Aye,” Ralph said. “Onward to Zagorath!”
As they started back up the path, keeping their eyes upward for more of the creatures, Zarrik spoke again.
“The gods truly blessed us with you, Ralph Kraus.”
Ralph didn’t think the question foolish, but he wanted to know more. “How so?”
“Kerril would’ve left me to die,” he told me simply. “You didn’t.”
“You chose to follow me. You trusted me. The Scalpers—those that I first raided the dungeon with—they refused to. Victory lies with me leading the Sand Pirates, and I want you by my side. Every last one of you must enter the dungeon, and every last one of you must leave it victorious.”
It was an unlikely scenario, but Kerril’s knowledge flowed through Ralph’s mind and told him that a leader needed to fill his troops with courage, even if his words were false.
“We’ll follow you to the end,” Zarrik said, and a murmur of assent came from the others.
Another steep climb, and yet another feathered monstrosity erupted from the mountainside. This time, Ralph had much more time to set eyes on it. But for the warping of Lilith, this monster might’ve been human once upon a time. Now it was vulture-like, fastened to the mountain by a long black chain, each link almost the size of his outstretched hand and thick as the haft of a smith’s hammer.
The pirates were ready this time, and they darted closer to the mountainside, forcing the monster to adjust its flightpath. A pirate—his name was Undzin— jabbed a long poleaxe at the monster’s face, slicing open the corvian skull and forcing it to retreat. Led by Razen and Zarrik, the others surged forward, heavy weapons ready to cleave and crush. Feeling the Infernal Essence feeding his rage, Ralph charged forward as the monster swiped with its huge wings, looking to hurl him into the abyss.
This time, they’d all learned their lesson. They were focused and single-minded in their goal—destroy this vile creature and take its essence for themselves. Two pirates pinned its wings, their blades tearing through its feathered flesh. Blood fountained from the creature as it twisted and tried in vain to find and pierce one of the pirates. There were too many pirates for the monster to succeed, and Ralph dodged a savage strike from the creature’s beak before sweeping both broadswords over his head and decapitating the monster with one almighty swing. The beast went slack and slid sideways. The chain on its stout collar rattled as the corpse of the monster slid off the cliff. The chain broke rather than leaving the creature suspended over the mountainside.
“The links must break after it dies,” Zarrik commented.
Ralph took the lead and siphoned half the monster’s essence before granting the pirates the rest. While it might have been seen as unfair, none of the band protested. He was their chief, after all, and he needed to be strong. Ralph was starting to think he was destined to lead in this manner.
After they absorbed the last of the essence and moved on, they found themselves on a plateau, crowded with the creatures. There were at least five of them, curled protectively over nests of eggs.
Ralph pulled Kerril’s blades from his back, and the sigils etched into the blades glowed as they greedily fed on the power inside his body. One gave him far greater swiftness than even the Reaper could offer. The other gave him explosive strength, offering an explanation for the duel and the old leader’s absurd dexterity in wielding these weapons.
The moment the monsters sensed the pirates, their reared their enormous bodies, flared out their wings, and screeched with almost enough force to burst eardrums. Ralph didn’t even need to see his fellow Sand Pirates to know that they were spreading out behind him, knuckles white around their weapons.
“There’s too many,” Zarrik warned from the left. “We’ll take your lead, Chief. Give the word and we’ll strike.”
The murmurs from the other pirates were less sure this time, but not one of them was silent.
As loathe as Ralph was to admit it, his lieutenant was right. The monsters hadn’t attacked them yet, and they almost seemed a little afraid. They weren’t the giant feathered beasts who had taken significant effort to slay. In fact, they were a little smaller and their chains were shorter. Their talons seemed blunted, and their faces were spotted with bright red patches.
“They’re females,” Ralph said with a smile. “They’re sitting on eggs. I don’t think they’ll attack us.”
“Then we move through them?” Razen asked.
“Aye,” Ralph replied.
“What of their essence?” Undzin asked. His eyes were ablaze with a desperate hunger, and it seemed that Zarrik’s words about essence-hunger were true. He was like a madman, and Ralph had seen enough town drunks back on Cothslar to know that a drink was the only
