Chapter 20 - Plugging the Leak

Malfus swallowed, then took a deep breath, doing his best to put it from his mind. He would have loved to have the free time to sit down and have a proper worry about the Inquisitor, but he was too focused on the task at hand to give it the attention it deserved.

It was still dark, crowded, and total chaos below, but the initial surprise had worn off now. Most of the gnolls still had no idea what was happening, had no idea that there were any undead sown amongst their ranks, but a few small pockets of resistance were fighting back. He felt some of the other threads unravel and dissipate as a few zombies were hacked apart.

Malfus knew that in order for this plan to work, he would have to replenish the ranks of the undead again throughout the battle. We just need to kill the gnolls faster than they can kill my undead. Perhaps killed isn’t the right word for an undead dying.

Malfus shuddered as another wave of death energy flowed through him from one of the many deaths below, re-energizing him. He still might not have been able to raise the giant, but he could certainly raise more gnolls.

From the wall, Malfus could see some of the gnolls climbing out of the pit now. There were enough gnoll bodies stacked on the side of the pit farthest from Malfus that they could climb right out on top of them.

There were so many gnolls, they began to pour out of the pit like a water leak. Malfus made the undead around the sides of the pit move to go plug the leak, but many of the zombies were busy struggling to stop gnolls from climbing out from other areas.

Goren bellowed commands from below and the scattered soldiers in the courtyard started to form defensive lines, but many of the gnolls had already slipped past them.

Malfus knew what he had to do.

He could sense all the fresh corpses in the pit from his connection to the plane of death. Just sitting there waiting to be claimed, like apples on a low-hanging branch, like grapes ripe on the vine, like coppers lying in the street. But there was just one problem… he’d need to get closer to cast the spell. He needed to be able to see the corpse, needed to be able to focus on it. Luckily, all the gnolls were on the other side of the pit from where the ladder was. The space below the wall was still clear. For now…

“Cover me! I’m going down to raise more dead!” Malfus yelled to Morten and Kaye, but they were too busy reloading and firing to look back. It was so loud, nothing could be heard from up here other than the sounds of clashing steel, cries of pain, shouted orders, and roars of anger from below.

Malfus swallowed, then began climbing down the ladder. He tried not to look at the gnolls churning in the pit as he climbed down. He tried not to think about how sweaty his palms were. He tried not to think about slipping and falling to his death in the pit below. He tried to focus on each rung in the ladder, taking them one at a time.

Malfus made it to the bottom of the ladder, boots on the ground. On the side of the pit across from Malfus, the trickle of gnolls climbing out of the pit had turned into a steady stream. There was a scattered melee forming on the other side as the zombies and soldiers tried unsuccessfully to contain the gnolls. His hands shook like a scroll in the wind as he watched the chaos unfolding right across from him, less than two dozen paces away.

I have to hurry.

Malfus jumped as he saw three gnolls by the pit next to him, grasping on the side as if they were trying to climb out. He breathed a sigh of relief a second later as he saw they were still motionless. He wasn’t sure if it was from crossbow bolts, the zombies in the pit, or if they had just been smashed to death against the side by the press of bodies behind them.

As good a place as any to start.

Malfus took the rod out from his belt. Took a few deep breaths in an impotent attempt to steady himself, then tried his best to focus and ignore the life-or-death combat going on just across from him. Malfus began chanting the necessary words for the spell, opening the channel to the plane of death, letting the energy flow through him, and into the corpse.

Halfway through the spell, movement caught the corner of his eye. Straining his concentration, Malfus kept his focus on the corpse as he continued the spell, while slowly looking over his shoulder. Four gnolls were walking towards him, weapons drawn, less than a dozen paces away.

Malfus swallowed as the words for the spell got caught in his throat. There was no way he’d have time to finish it before they got to him. Malfus did a quick mental check for any nearby undead. A spider frantically skittering about the strands of its web. They were all too far away, stuck in the pit, or on the other side of it trying to slow the gnolls. His eyes darted around desperately looking for help, but all the other soldiers were busy and on the other side of the pit, fighting as well. He was alone. He’d have to figure this out by himself.

Malfus cast the quickest spell he had at his disposal first, one he’d cast many times before and one of a feeling he was intimately familiar with. Fear. Flooding the minds of the four gnolls with different visions of their death or visions from the plane of death itself, overwhelming them with primordial fear.

One gnoll let out a yelping shriek then dropped its weapon on the ground and then jumped headfirst into the pit. Another gnoll with an axe froze in place, clawing at its face, trying to get the visions to stop. The other two paused for a second, then kept coming forward, unfazed by the spell. They kept coming, one with a spear, the other with a primitive-looking morning star.

Dammit. Malfus started backing up a few paces as his mind frantically searched for what to do next.

The gnoll with the spear crouched low, spearpoint ready to thrust forward at any second. Just paces away now. Malfus frantically signed the runes in the air as he spat out the words to cast contagion. Sweat beaded on his forehead and a queasy wave of nausea passed through him. He started to choke as he coughed up a gray cloud of miasma that spread in front of him, hanging briefly in the air like a curtain of greasy mist, like thick smoke in a crowded tavern. The gnoll ignored it and walked through. It paused and coughed, then started itching at its shoulder, but then kept coming. Malfus cursed as the spell seemed to have no other effect.

Out of the corner of his eye, Malfus saw the gnoll with the morning star start to circle around to flank him. Malfus backed up a few more paces until his back bumped up against the stone wall. He swallowed and tried to think of something fast. He was quickly running out of space and spells.

Morning star was only a few paces away. It barked something to the one with the spear in their guttural language. The one with the spear barked back, its response came out as a hacking cough, but it still came on, spear-tip pointed forward. A step later, its spear dipped down as it scratched furiously at another itch.

Malfus saw his narrow window open and turned toward the one with the morning star. Malfus said the arcane words necessary for the spell, the mono-syllabic words of the ancient language were harsh on the throat. It felt like he was balancing a stone on his tongue, spitting the words out as if they were insects crawling in his mouth. He focused on the pool of negative energy he’d gathered, concentrating it into a beam, and then released it. A spear-tip of black energy erupted from Malfus’s palm, jolting forward through the air.

To the gnoll’s credit, it moved with incredible reflexes, jumping to one side, but the bolt moved too fast, striking the gnoll square in the chest. The gnoll made a gut-wrenching shriek. A second later, its fur turned gray and then its muscles shrank and shriveled, aging decades in mere seconds, until it was a withered, mummified husk collapsing on the ground, wheezing its last breaths.

A glint of metal in front of Malfus’s face robbed him of his victory. The spear jabbed at Malfus again. He reeled backward, smashing his shoulder against the stone wall. The spear lanced forward, hitting the stone wall, shrieking as it sent out orange sparks just inches from Malfus’s face.

The gnoll made ready to thrust again, Malfus could see the killing blow coming. Malfus closed his eyes, waiting for his death, but the spear tip never came. When he opened them again, the gnoll had a panicked look on its face as it stabbed at the ground behind it. Malfus looked down and saw something moving by its feet. The top of a torso clutched onto the ankle of the gnoll, trying to bite it. The gnoll yelped as it fell over and started kicking at the zombie.

“Aww, half-in-half you came to save me. I know you’d come in handy.”

Malfus’s relief was short-lived. He looked up to see the gnoll he had cast fear on had recovered from its daze and was walking toward him now, axe at the ready. It had bloody claw marks on its face from where it had scratched out one of its own eyes from the visions caused by the spell. A vicious, fanged grin spread across its face. The gnoll pointed at its bloody eye socket and then pointed at Malfus, saying something in its growling guttural language. Malfus didn’t understand the words, but he got the gist of it.

Malfus started to back away, but then something caught his ankle. He squawked as he lost his balance and fell to the ground. He grunted as the wind was knocked from his lungs, his jaw crunched against the ground and he bit his tongue, tasting copper and dust in his mouth. Malfus looked up and saw the gnoll on the ground grasping at his ankle with one hand, while still kicking at the zombie torso latched to its ankle. The other gnoll walked towards them both, axe raised high.

“Let go! Let go of me!” Malfus shouted, out of breath as he kicked furiously at the hand grasping his ankle.

Malfus was about to feebly kick at the gnoll one more time, but then his eyes went wide at the same time as the gnoll’s. The skin from its hand and forearm began to blister and peel back, sloughing off. Greasy, gray meat rotted away before his eyes to reveal shiny white bone underneath. Malfus kicked away at the bones and steaming flesh still clinging onto his ankle as the gnoll looked on in shocked horror. Too shocked even to scream. Its mouth just hung open, staring at Malfus with pleading eyes, as if searching for an answer from him on what it should do as the rot traveled up its arm, leaving a trail of pustulant boils. The zombie torso behind it started biting at its leg, ripping out mouthfuls of flesh as the rot ate away the gnoll’s face.

The gnoll with the axe hesitated for a second, retching at the horror of the scene unfolding before it, but then gathered its courage for a second time and took the last few paces over to Malfus. Its axe gleamed wickedly in the flickering torchlight as it came down.

Malfus pulled his leg back right as the axe struck, severing the bones of the gnoll’s decaying arm. Malfus scrambled to his feet as he tried to think of what to do, but his mind was a blank slate. He’d need a moment to regather his concentration to cast anything. Malfus knew he had to delay, that was all he could do.

Think of something… Anything!

Malfus took a few steps backward as the gnoll closed in. It held the axe out in front of it, letting out a low-menacing growl. Malfus swung the rod out in front of him a few times, waving it frantically as he backpedaled, hoping the glowing thing would scare it off, give him a second to think, to figure out something. He couldn’t cast anything quick enough with it this close to him. Without the advantage of distance, the odds quickly begin to fade for most spellcasters. Except those with swords.

The gnoll started to raise its axe again. Something whistled through the air and then the gnoll’s arm went limp and its axe dropped to the ground. Blood spurted from a feathered bolt sticking out from its shoulder. It took another step towards Malfus, then collapsed to its knees. Reaching up with its other arm, grasping futilely at the bolt sticking from its shoulder as blood spurted from the arterial wound.

Malfus stood up, then brushed off the dust on his coat before taking a step towards the gnoll with the rod held out. The star ruby began to glow a bright cherry red the closer it got to the blood gushing from the wound.

The gnoll howled in pain and looked on in helpless horror as the blood from its wound began flowing through the air, from its body and into the rod’s ruby. It reached a clawed hand up weakly to Malfus, but Malfus swatted it away with his other hand as he pressed the rod closer.

The gnoll’s sobs and howls of pain grew louder as more blood was ripped from its body and empty eye socket, floating in tendrils through the air and into the rod. Feeding it. Feeding him. Its cries gradually grew quieter and subsided, until the gnoll grew completely silent and collapsed on the ground, a dried up husk.

Malfus closed his eyes. He felt his pulse come in a pounding rush in his temples. Draining blood from a corpse was one thing, but draining blood from the living, draining something’s very soul, was a different sensation entirely. He could feel a concentration of death energy stored in him, stored like a charged lightning rod. To use how he desired.

Exhilarating.

Malfus looked up and saw Morten staring at him from the edge of the wall, crossbow in hand. Malfus gave him a nervous smile and nodded at him to thank him for the help. But Morten just stared back at him with an expression of abject horror and revulsion for another second, before disappearing back over the edge.

Malfus shrugged his shoulders. Then turned back to the three gnoll corpses lying before him. He had some work to do.

Malfus set to work, raising them quickly. The zombie-gnolls rose up, awaiting Malfus’s commands, but he just had them stay there to guard him. No more surprises.

Then he turned his attention back to the pit. There were only a handful of his undead left fighting inside the pit, and less than a dozen left above with the soldiers. The undead that had been killed had been hacked apart to useless pieces, but the dead bodies inside the pit were a different story. Malfus could sense them. Impaled against the spikes at the front of the pit, smashed and trampled to death, shot full of bolts, or killed by the undead from earlier. There were several dozen corpses, at least. Just waiting to be claimed.

Malfus began concentrating, then picked up where he left off before he was interrupted, starting with the dead gnolls along the side of the pit. The gnolls sprung back to life, silently dropping down from the sides of the pit and back inside. Malfus heard surprised yelps as they began their bloody work. A gnoll tried to climb up the side of the pit away from them, but it was pulled back in gurgling and screaming. A severed arm left grasping onto the wooden stake.

Malfus pulled from the invisible currents of death energies flowing around him and channeled them into the corpses piled on the far side of the pit. The gnolls that were halfway up climbing the pit across from Malfus let out a howl of horror as the stacked corpses underneath them began to shift and move, then rose up and started attacking them.

The soldiers and zombies charged forward, pushing the gnolls back into the pit, where more zombies awaited them. Malfus smiled smugly once the breach in the pit was taken care of. He raised a few more zombie-gnolls for good measure, reweaving the missing strands of his web. Then he climbed back up the ladder so he could control them from a better vantage point. Back to the security of the wall.

The soldiers rained down crossbow bolts at the gnolls below, taking advantage of the easy targets.

The gnolls in the pit fell back into complete disarray. Their advance had faltered and some of the gnolls were trying to push back against the tide, trying to climb back up the sliding stone barricade. Retreating.

The gnoll’s war-horn sounded again, blowing a single mournful cry from deep in the woods.

Just then, there was a prickling at the back of Malfus’s neck. A niggling tugging from one of the strands of his web. He felt his connection to the crow pulling at him. Malfus rolled his eyes back as he transferred his awareness to the crow.

In the woods on the eastern side of the fort, Malfus saw the giant towering over the trees, pushing over the ones that got in his way as if they were toys. An uncountable mass of more gnolls, fresh for the fight, churned and writhed across the forest floor like ants. At their head, Malfus could see a massive gnoll, its fur ghost-white. It lifted the massive beast horn up to blow again, to sound the charge.

Malfus returned to his body.

“There, that’s it, they’re sounding the call to retreat!” A smile started to spread on Morten’s face as the horn bellowed again.

“I’m afraid we aren’t so lucky…” Malfus cleared his throat, the next words clinging to his mouth like cobwebs as he tried to get them out. “The giant is back.”