“There’s power in blood. It’s the essence of life itself, a conduit for Mana. The energy of heaven flows in the veins of every creature, every beast and every human.”

On Forbidden Magic

Chapter 20

The chunks of ice, some small and sharp like falling daggers, others as large as a man and weighing tons, hurtled downwards towards the Orc shaman.

The Goblins in the front line began to panic, some seeking to flee the area while covering their heads with their arms in a vain attempt to protect themselves.

Erinn watched on with anticipation, waiting to see the Orcs crushed by the spell. Her feelings changed to anger and revulsion as she witnessed the grisly death of the prisoner. She heard to the gurgling last gasps of breath as he died, a noise she would carry with her, engraved forever in her mind.

The Orc began to chant as he raised his bloody arms to the sky. Unlike the spells Erinn had seen before, no spell matrix of mana formed in the air in front of the Orc. Instead, streams of blood flowed from the dead man, rushing past the Orc. It swirled in the air, before it formed a strange bloody rune in the air.

As the falling shards of ice nearly reached the Orcs, the rune glowed brightly in the dark. A gruesome, blood colored light dyed everything Erinn could see a deep ruby color.

The brightly glowing rune exploded in crimson light and a flood of power spread from the erupting symbol. It rushed towards the falling ice and crashed into it like an ocean wave, washing onto the beach.

The ice vanished in the crimson wave, disappearing into it completely. Not even a single trace of the massive ice spell could be seen. The wave of power approached the human defenders, dissipating as it spread out, until it finally reached the town walls.

Erinn could feel the foul, crimson power wash over her and the strong scent of blood made her gag and nearly vomit. The utter vileness of the blood magic made many of the human’s stagger and retch.

The defenders of Whitewater were stunned by what they had just witnessed. They had placed their hopes on the mages powerful destructive magic in order to crush the Orc Shamans.

They expected to see them crushed, along with a large portion of the nearby Goblins. They had never thought that the powerful spell could be stopped so easily.

The Orc shaman finally lowered his arms after the rune had dissipated, taking the ice storm with it. It stepped back into the group of its peers, clearly exhausted from the powerful ritual it had used.

The dead prisoner, completely drained of blood, was now just a withered husk laying on the ground.

The Orcs and Goblins let out a deafening cheer, as many of the smaller Goblins danced around. They were laughing and jeering at the mage whose spell had failed. The defenders felt humiliated and angered by the display and many wanted to rush out and slay them all.

The human mages did not cast any further spells, the distance to the opposing force was too great. They would have to wait until the enemy came closer. With the Shaman’s ability to protect their troops, the mages would have to be strategic in their spell casting.

As the Goblins cheered and danced, the Orc shamans approached the prisoners, each carried ritual blades and large bowls. They slit the captives’ throats, one after another as the people of Whitewater looked on. The Shamans collected the spurting blood in their bowls.

One after another, the prisoners fell, and Erinn was forced to close her eyes in horror.

Mercifully, the last of the human captives soon lay dead, and their blood was completely drained. The orcs began to pour the gathered blood in a large circle, while they chanted in unison.

With the circle complete, one of the Shaman stepped forward, wearing a long necklace of human skulls around its neck. It led its brethren to stand around the circle of blood, each robed figure evenly spaced from the next.

Raising its arms up high, the chanting of the Orc Shamans reached a crescendo, until nothing could be heard except for the horrifying sound.

A large Orc, wielding a wicked two-handed axe, approached the group of dead prisoners. It directed two Goblins to start bringing him the bodies one at a time.

The goblins would drag a body to him, and he would take a mighty swing, separating the head from the torso. He would then toss the head into the bloody circle. With each swing, a new head was added to small pile in the center of the circle.

Erinn could hear her companions gagging and retching near her, but they were unable to stop the ritual being performed in front of them.

She looked at Hale, begging her with her eyes for a solution to the terribleness they were seeing.

Hale shook her head at the other woman, there was nothing they could do, even the mages would be wasting their strength if they attempted to stop the Orcs now.

With each added head, they could feel a new, creeping foulness in the air. It was if the ritual was calling out in a profane language, and something obscene was responding.

The Orc shamans chanting had changed, becoming a high-pitched keening noise. Erinn could almost see the Night becoming darker bordering the bloody circle. Where the dim light had reached before, the darkness was gradually eating away at the light.

The blasphemous and terrible wailing of the Shamans was painful to hear, but not for the defenders’ ears, but in their very souls. A feeling of wrongness was emanating from the ritual, as if the world itself found what the ritual was doing abhorrent. A sin against life itself.

With a dull thud, the last head landed in the circle and the chanting ceased suddenly.

Human, Orc and goblin all looked on in horrible anticipation and dread at whatever evilness the ritual would bring forth. Looking on in silence, they all saw the heads slowly float into the air, before the flesh melted from the bones.

Cracking and twisting in a sickening fashion, the bones formed a doorway in the center of the circle. The flesh from the heads elongated and draped itself over the bone frame of the doorway. The blood on the ground began to creep along the door frame, forming runes and shapes, burning itself into the flesh and bone of the doorway.

The center of the completed profane portal was made of complete darkness, untouched by any light. It was as if it were made of pure concentrated liquid darkness, a black pool.

The blackness began to bubble and surge, bulging outward, swelling. Suddenly, with a soft ‘pop’ the blackness broke and a large figure emerged from the portal.

“Abomination!” Hale whispered, turning pale as she saw the monster surface from the liquid darkness of the portal.

The abomination was large, nearly twice the height of the Orcs standing in front of it. It had the appearance of a multitude of bodies stitched together, from a variety of different creatures and races.

It was as if it was made from randomly added parts, some humanoid, other monster or beast. None of the parts appeared in the correct order. A human leg was visible protruding from its arm, while a beast head bulged from its torso.

Erinn could feel the wrongness from the necromantic creature. This was a being that should not exist, couldn’t exist, naturally. It radiated foul power and was held together by dark arts and mana twisted perversely.

From the amount of Mana it emitted, Erinn knew that only a group of experienced, high ranked experts would be able to defeat it.

The abomination lumbered forward, the portal collapsing behind it. Its head, vaguely human, with two eyes of different shapes and colors, looked at its surroundings. It seemed almost curious to find itself in this new location.

The surrounding Goblins backed away nervously from the massive creature, while the lead Orc Shaman stepped directly in front of it, speaking in a commanding tone before turning and pointing towards the town.

The abomination, either not understanding or not caring about the Shaman’s commands, stood silently in the circle of blood. Gradually, the Orc Shaman became increasingly frustrated and angry at the creature.

The defenders started to relax slightly, thinking that the powerful abomination would refuse its commands, leaving them free to repel the Goblin assault. The Shaman’s were clearly drained after the summoning and would not participate in the attack. They would be unable to counter Whitewater’s mages again, leaving them to rain fire on the enemy forces.

When both sides thought the Abomination would not move, it suddenly shot forward, much quicker than anyone thought the large monster capable of.

It reached forward and grabbed the Orc Shaman attempting to control it, crushing him in its hand. The undead creature unhinged its jaws like a snake and swallowing the crumpled shaman whole.

Both sides watched in morbid fascination as the body of the Orc shaman slowly became part of the creature’s body. The Shaman’s face slowly emerged from the undead’s stomach, stretching the skin in a silent scream.

The Abomination turned to the other Orc Shamans, rushing to grab them before popping them whole into its body. The creature became bigger, stronger and obscener with each new body it added. Nearly a dozen Orcs were consumed by the summoned monstrosity.

The defenders of Whitewater cheered as the saw the creature turn on its masters. Many of the Goblins and Orcs fled back towards the Forest, rushing to escape from the unstoppable monster.

The remaining Shaman’s attempted to flee as well, but the creature was too fast. It had soon finished all the Orcs and stood alone, with the surrounding army in full flight away from it.

Looking around itself and seeing it was now alone, the rampaging Abomination turned towards the cheering soldiers of Whitewater. It let out a roar that made Erinn’s ears ring, despite the large distance between them.

As it roared, the abomination began to charge towards Whitewater, intent on devouring everyone within the walls.