Gary, apparently, had just been considering something very similar. Two corpses, a woman and her small child lay in the street like old trash. Garath had never seen a dead body left to decay naturally and nothing in his life, not violent video games, graphic television, nor his vivid and morbid imagination prepared him for it.
The mother’s blistered hand reached even in death toward her child lying a few inches away. Their bodies had reached the peak of bloating and looked as though they may pop at any moment. The child’s skin was stretched so tightly over its swollen innards that it almost looked like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, if the PBD peddled nightmares for a living. Maggots squirmed in their eyes, ears, and a few open wounds that Garath had to assume were the cause of death for the two unfortunate souls. He knew maggots on dead bodies was a thing, everyone did. But the sheer amount of squirming white worms nibbling on the soft flesh in every visible orifice was astounding. The child faced the horrific visage of its mother, Garath had to turn away upon seeing the larvae nesting within the poor child’s ear, chewing and squirming deeper into the corpse. Though the maggots were still in their larva form now, almost all of the squirming maggots would grow into flies.
The horrific image affected him more than he wanted to admit. Something would have to be done about the bodies around the place The Band of the Hawk had made their home. Even without the possibility of attracting and dementing more scavengers, being surrounded by thousands of decaying corpses had to be a health concern. He would have to talk with the good doctor, TodoroKen, about how to handle that later. In the meantime, he and Gary had a fight on their hands.
Gary has accepted your Party invitation.
*They’re only Level 7,* Garath informed Gary on the communication channel that had opened with the Party formation. *We’ll make quick work of this.*
“I think that’s what they’re after,” Gary responded verbally, nodding toward the rotting remains of mother and child. “We probably don’t have to fight them, Garath. They’re just animals.”
Garath looked up at the bearded man, his disgust recognizable to the other even on feline facial features. He wasn’t about to let the easy Experience Points that this pack of Racers would give them just walk away with even more Mana-infused human remains in their bellies. With three snarling Racers on one side and another growling and hissing now only ten feet away in front, Garath wasn’t about to have a discussion about it. Neither was Bill, for that matter.
The Cambionic Fel Hound slammed into its target at full speed, lowering his head at the last second to knock down the Racer that had been approaching from the front. Without waiting for it to recover, Bill opened wide and bit down hard on the Racer’s neck, thrashing and tearing viciously. Garath paid the 188 Mana cost to activate Plague. Another 10 Mana continued to tick away from his Mana pool every second to keep the effect active, but that was a drop in the bucket compared to his 1,660 total Mana. He was still amazed at the feeling he got from infecting enemies with Plague, but was surprised when he felt the damage-over-time debuff take hold in not four targets, but five. The other Racers did not wait for him to locate the fifth.
As one, the three Racers not currently being shredded to ribbons by a 200lb demon dog turned sharply to look at the fluffy white Necrologist that had infected them. They seemed hesitant to attack, instead moving closer to circle Gary, Garath, and the bodies near their feet, hissing and snarling with aggressive posturing. Garath, for his part, was not hesitant.
He gave the mental order for Handsome to attack and, as one, the Cambionic Flayer and the Necrologist got to work.
They released two simultaneous casts of Blight. Two identical rings of deep purple magic shot out from their bodies in a shimmering circle, adding two more DoT’s on each of the three Racers. Between the three debuffs, each of the giant, twisted raccoons took 42 damage every second, but Garath wasn’t done. He and Handsome sent orbs of black energy at the Racers, who howled in pain.
The fifth target, an even larger Racer, hadn’t been hiding. Presumably the pack leader, it was only a few feet away from where he stood next to Gary. They just hadn’t noticed it somehow. Garath had to assume this larger Racer had some kind of Ability that allowed it to go unnoticed, similar to Warrion's Stealth. He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was the relief he felt knowing they had thrown a wrench in the sneaky Racer’s attack plan. Who knows what could have happened if the pack leader had finished its approach unseen. Stealth/rogue type could inflict some serious damage when attacking from the shadows. Luckily, Garath’s no bullshit approach forced its hand early.
Gary, his shield glowing white in front of him lunged at the large Racer. With a thunk when a furry head met steel, the pack leader was stunned, swaying like it was about to get hit with a Mortal Kombat fatality. Garath jumped back to avoid a mouthful of blood-stained teeth and jumped to land on top of the abandoned vehicle to his side. He stole a glance to check on Bill.
The Hound’s fight was all but over. The Racer he had been assigned to was bleeding on the ground, one limb short of a quartet. The Healthbar affixed to its head showed 24/640. Knowing that his Plague would finish it off, Garath sent Bill
