Chapter Seventeen: Fallen hero

The tunnel Rory was following after leaving the cavern was surprisingly short. After barely two hundred meters, he emerged into a gloomy cavern, gazing upwards. The ceiling was so high it couldn’t be seen. The only source of light in the cavern was a giant metallic ball that floated in the middle of the cavern. It gave off an eerily white light, some sort of artificial moon.

Low laying mist clung to the floor, and oval-shaped gravestones littered the grounds interspersed with the occasional mausoleum towering above everything.

“Yeah, I don’t think so” Rory shuddered at the idea of traversing the graveyard.

“I wonder what that is!” Turning, Rory saw that Emily was fixated on the orb of light hanging in the sky.

“I’ve got no idea analysis doesn’t show anything” Alex replied.

Scanning the cavern, Rory noticed that the mist didn’t cover all the cavern. The mist didn’t reach all the way to the walls and strangely, there appeared to be pockets of area free of mist as well.

“Don’t know about you lot but I think we should avoid this all together and circle around the mist to the other side.”

Everyone was in agreement with Rory. No one was eager to face what was sure to be even more danger.

Skirting the edge of the mist, the group hugged the edge of the cavern's walls.

“THUD!”

Rory instinctively flinched backwards, inches in front of where his chest had been. An arrow sat embedded in the wall.

A shaft made out of what appeared to be bone was embedded in the wall, only a little of the shaft visible, the rest buried in the tough stone, where the Fletching used to be only dust repaired having exploded from the force of the impact.

Turning in the direction of where the arrow had come from, Rory came across such an odd sight.

A skeleton at least 8ft tall with yellowing bones and crimson orbs floating in its eye sockets held a monstrous bow made of bone.

Several smaller skeletons stood next to their larger brethren, and in a shocking move, one of them ripped off one of their rib bones and passed it over to the waiting bowman.

Receiving the bone in its hand, the rib suddenly took on a sickly green light. As before their eyes, it straightened itself and elongated itself until it resembled a wickedly sharp arrow.

In one fluid motion, the bowman nocked the arrow, then drawing back the string and releasing the arrow on its deadly fight.

Lacking the dexterity to deflect the arrow with his buckler skill, Rory instead pushed Matthew out of the arrow's path, where it clattered harmlessly off the cavern's wall.

Rory and Peter sprang into action. Peter hurled his holy smite skill the hammer it formed tumbling end over end.

Rory resorted to his fire magic, creating a ball of flame that he sent screaming towards the skeletons.

Neither skills made it to their targets, instead intercepted by suicidal charges by several of the skeletons. Their bodies exploding into pieces as they ran directly into the skills preventing them from reaching the main group.

The three others were useless in this skirmish. Neither Matthew nor Alex had any way of attacking the skeletons at range, and all of Emily’s arrows had been destroyed in the last fight. Conjuring forth his barrier, Rory enveloped the three of them to keep them out of harm's way.

Rory and Peter traded barrage after barrage with the bowman, each of their skills intercepted by a seemingly endless horde of self sacrificing skeletons.

The bowman’s eyes suddenly erupted with power, the arrow that streaked towards them coated in a slimy purple light. Suddenly, the arrow split, one heading for each of them. Peter dove to avoid the arrow, the arrow curved mid-flight following his trajectory, where it slammed into his stomach with a sickening squelch. Rory’s arrow continued to split, at first to two, then to four, then eight, and so on, before he lost count of the swarm of arrows heading his way. Eyes going wide with shock, Rory brought forward his hands, calling forth his fire. He summoned a wall of flames to meet the oncoming horde.

Bangs, fizzes and pops erupted around Rory as whatever magic had replicated the arrows was burned away, causing the duplicates to turn to ash.

Pain seared through Rory's shoulder as he was thrown into the wall. The original arrow had not been stopped by his flames. Glancing at his shoulder, a steaming hot piece of bone was lodged in place.

With a scream, Rory grabbed hold of the arrow, yanking out the arrow in one go. Rory rocked wearily on his feet, shaking his head to clear it. Rory darted off to Peter, who lay on his side, both hands held over his stomach where he healed his wound, having already removed the arrow.

“I’m nearly out of Mana” Peter winced in pain whatever wound he had been inflicted with not fully healing.

“It’s okay, I’ve got plenty left. You get inside the barrier with the others.”

Rory concentrated on opening up a hole in the barrier, allowing Peter to stumble inside. Emily took the opportunity to dart past him before the hole was sealed.

Suddenly dread washed over Rory. Quickly checking his notifications, he realised he had yet to receive a single notification for killing a skeleton.

Whatever was happening to the remains of the skeletons that jumped in front of his magic was hidden by the thick, swirling mists.

Rory checked his analysis of the skeletons that he had done earlier in the fight, but had yet to check.

Philip the magic bowman (undead) - lvl 20

Description: Once a stalwart defender of his home kingdom of Eriankm. Philip fought to the last breath to defend his beloved kingdom from the undead hordes. Now an undead mockery to everything he once stood for, he has been stripped of his free will by the cruel necromancer which raised him from the dead. A portion of bodies' skill while alive has transferred with them into undeath.

It was frightening to think that the bowman that was giving Rory and his friend so much trouble was a shadow of his former self. He would have hated to face Philip in his prime.

What worried Rory most however, was the other type of skeleton he identified.

Skeleton construct – lvl 6

Description: While not true members of the undead horde, they are no less deadly. Given life by their masters' will, they cannot be destroyed permanently and will instead reconstruct from the tiniest traces of remains.

A construct is unable to stray far from their master or risk temporarily losing their abilities. Constructs are inferior in all ways but one, once created, they are bound to their masters' will and will never stop.

While each individual construct was weak and blew apart from the slightest hit from his spells, they were acting as an effective blocker from causing any damage to the bowman.

Philip's eyes took on a demonic radiance and, holding his bow taut, the arrow seemed to double in size as an aura of power seemed to envelop it.

With a twang, the arrow was released, shooting forth at triple the speed of the previous arrows. It screamed through the air as it sped towards its target.

With barely any time to think, never mind react, Rory was just able to summon his buckler and bring it to bear.

Rory’s skill snapped into place a fraction of a second before the arrow arrived.

A sound like shattering glass echoed across the cavern. Rory screamed out in pain, his arm limp at his side as blood slowly drizzled down it. The buckler had shattered under the strain of the arrow, the arrow having been consumed by the attack had not stopped the buckler from splintering and ripping to shreds Rory’s arm.

In a rage Rory launched a bolt of lightning at the bowman, however even with the magic’s increased speed compared to his fire magic, a construct was still able to block the attack.

Meanwhile, Emily had not been lazy. Having collected the numerous bone arrows that littered the ground, she was now in the process of returning fire at the bowman.

Emily had no more luck than Rory in attacking the bowman, each arrow hitting a construct instead. however, each time a construct jumped in front of an arrow, the bowman stopped attacking, its line of sight broken.

A stupid idea came to Rory. A buckler snapped into place on his one remaining good arm. The bowman needed to be dealt with now. They weren’t able to trade an unceasing barrage of attacks and would eventually be worn down.

Rory charged straight at the bowman, crouching as much as he could. As he ran, he used the buckler to cover as much vital parts as he could.

Rory grunted in pain, an arrow having lodged itself in his right thigh. He continued his charge, his adrenaline allowing him to ignore the wound.

Before he reached the bowman, Rory took several other wounds, one to his stomach and another to his leg, but this time below his knee.

This close to the skeletons, he could see the remains of the destroyed constructs through the mist, their bodies covered in a purple light as their bones slowly reconstructed themselves and slowly came back together.

When Rory was ten meters away from the undead, Rory cancelled his buckler, instead bringing forth jets of flame that quickly overcame the constructs that came to block his way.

Dodging to the left, an arrow sailed harmlessly an inch from his head. Now in range of the bowman, he increased the intensity of his flames. The bowman’s bones were dry and brittle and so very flammable.

Fire consumed the body, Philip fell to his knees, staring intently into Rory's eyes

“Thank you,” Philip rasped, his body turning to ash and crumbling.

Rory had no time to celebrate a construct swinging its jagged nails, aimed straight for his face. Back peddling, Rory poured fire on the remaining constructs, destroying their bodies.

Around him, the constructs still glowed as they started to reform. Realising that killing Philip hadn’t stopped them, Rory headed back to the group.