Then something changed. A black mist rose up from the black sarcophagus, whirling in a spinning vortex around the head of the great rat Commander.
“What is it?” cried Cara in alarm.
“It’s the Festering!” I answered. I recognized it from the psychic realm where I’d fought the daemon darkness and released Ironside from its clutches. It was the Festering made flesh, a conscious, living entity made of the foul taint which plagued the land.
With horrible speed, it took a hold of the Commander, and he stopped in his retreat and turned to face us. The shadowy mist congealed around him, then his head snapped back and his mouth opened in a scream of pain as the evil being wrapped itself around him and took over his will. The scream changed, from the single high-pitched scream of the rat to the low, crowd-like roar of the Festering.
“Soul Binder, you will die today!” As the remainder of the other rats disappeared into the darkness, the Commander’s body transformed under the influence of the Festering. It grew, and with a horrible squelching sound, two new pairs of arms burst from the creature’s side. The yellow eyes grew, and the jaw opened impossibly wide as the creature dropped and ran at full speed toward us, moving like a great spider on its many arms. When the creature reached us, it swung its huge forelimbs right at me, and the blow clanged off my shining armor with a flash of white light. I leaped in and aimed at the face with my twin axes, but the creature dodged with lightning speed.
Cara dropped and rolled away, pulling her bow from her back and nocking an arrow in one swift movement. The arrow flew, and another was nocked and drawn back as the first thudded into the monster’s side. It bellowed in pain and leaped at me, arms reaching out to grab me in a death-grip. I ducked, and as the beast flew over me, I slammed one axe and then the other into its muscled chest. Blood sprayed from the wounds, and I let the axes go as I rolled away. They were wedged in bone.
As I rolled to the side, the creature landed in a heap and then sprang up again. Heedless of the blades sticking out of its chest, it reared up onto its hind legs and prepared to charge again. Cara’s second arrow flew and struck it in the shoulder. The monster swayed under the impact but kept coming.
Kneeling, I reached for my belt of throwing axes and one leaped up into my hand. I flung it, glorying in my sure aim and perfect technique. This was the effect of the Persona; I had never felt so comfortable using throwing axes before. A second axe flowed from my belt into my hand as the first thudded into the ratman’s face, where it stuck. Another arrow, and then another sank into the monster’s chest, but still it lumbered toward us on its hind legs, trailing blood and black mist as it came.
I reached for my two-handed axe, and it appeared in my grip. With a yell, I charged forward to meet the beast and took off one of its legs at the knee with one mighty swing. The creature toppled, its six upper arms wheeling as it tried to keep balance. Cara ran up and stood over the creature with an arrow at the ready. The tip of her arrow glowed a sulfurous green; she had treated it with one of her potions.
The flames of the burning sheds soared high, illuminating the scene with stark yellow light and casting inky shadows all around. The roar and crackle of the flames filled the air as the monstrous ratman toppled and crashed to the ground, his maimed limb squirting steaming blood into the cold night air.
I hauled my huge axe up and spun it in the air so the wolf’s head hammer was ready to perform the final blow. Cara’s arrow flew into the creature’s heart. There was a muffled boom. Green light suffused the ratman, and his whole body bubbled and shifted, but he did not die. Instead, with terrifying speed, he lashed out with one flailing arm and caught Cara by the ankle. He wrenched himself up, his huge mouth gaping wide as he flung himself at her, but I brought the great shining wolf’s head down on the ratman’s skull.
His head burst like an overripe melon under the hammer blow, and an ugly red and black liquid splashed across the ground. His body twitched and flailed, and Cara leaped back with a cry of disgust, kicking away the clawed hand that had clutched her ankle. The black mist of the Festering rose from the ratman, and I heard that roaring multitudinous voice howling as if from a great distance. The mist rose in a cloud above us and attempted to come together again, but at that moment, a cold gust of wind swept through the camp, and the black smoke was dispersed.
Cara turned and marched toward the edge of the camp, pulling a potion from her belt. When she got to one of the ratholes, she hefted the bottle and said two words under her breath. The potion glowed yellow for a moment, then she dropped it into the hole. For the space of a breath, we waited, then there was a hissing sound and a muffled screeching from far below.
“A poison,” she stated. “It will disperse a cloud of vapor throughout the rat tunnels below this camp. No ratman will live here after this night.”
I nodded silently, then turned away. Already, the gray dust and the sense of sorrow and horror which accompanied the Festering were passing from this place. I walked back to the middle of the camp, by the now-empty black sarcophagus.
“What happened back there?” Cara asked.
“I bound the Persona of Theodoric Ironside, and I can now channel it, using the
