They fought their way toward the sound of Goruk's bellowing voice. The big Krag was truly a sight to behold. His two-headed axe drenched in the flaming mixture, carved a blazing arc through the ranks of the enemy, cleaving through both bone and evil spirit with equal fury.
He saw them coming, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of the bandaged, ratman running along in Varga's wake.
"Varga! What is this?" Goruk roared, smashing two skeletons aside with a single sweep." Why did you abound your flank, you have created a mess of things.
"I know!" Varga yelled back, her own axe beheaded a skeleton that lunged too close. "And I am ready to face my punishment after we save the camp from being overrun!"
Femi, for his part, was too busy taking in the scene around him while avoiding the feeling of guilt at being the cause of varga actions. Their entire side of the battlefield was surrounded, pressed from the front and now the exposed side, with more clattering shapes emerging from the treeline. A cold dread, trickled down his spine. Where did that juju priest get this many bodies? he wondered. Is there a crematory close by? A mass grave? How deep does this evil go?
Distracted by the sheer, overwhelming numbers, Femi was unable to see the Damned Soul, that had noticed a vulnerable target. It streaked toward him, filled with malice. Varga moved to intercept, her mouth opening in a warning shout, but Goruk was faster. He bellowed a warcry that seemed to shake the very air and swung his massive axe in a low, fiery arc. The weapon, burning with righteous flames that was the antithesis of such unholy life, caught the spirit head-on. It unmade the creature in a burst of ectoplasmic flame.
Femi blinked, the heat of the blast washing over him. "Why are the dead so eager to fight with the living?" he mused aloud, more to himself than anyone. "What is the point self? Who offended them so grievously that they must trouble the rest of us?"
Goruk just grunted, too focused on the relentless battle to process the ratman's philosophical query. "Arieus is ahead! The line is reforming around him! We push them back to the entrance, now!"
The three of them including the Krags around them began to push forward. Varga and Goruk were wreaking havoc on the skeletons before them. Femi, his mind whirring with the seed of a plan, decided to save his energy and simply acted as support. His instinct was already helping him adapt to the flow of battle, allowing him to create openings for the heavier warriors with simple feint that distracted the foe. He even dispatched a few on the way.
They finally broke through the worst of the press to where Arieus stood. The War Chief's massive cleaver left trails in the air as he systematically destroyed the remaining Damned Souls. His eyes, cold and assessing, swept over them, taking in Goruk, the disobedient Varga, and her 'pet', the brown-furred ratman now standing with a strange, confidence.
"Varga," his voice sounded stern "You disobeyed your War Chief's orders during combat. You know the consequence."
"I know," she said, holding his gaze.
His eyes narrowed at her gaze, but then nodded " Very well. Report."
"The ward is secure. The breach is contained," Varga said. "We were able to hold and push them back into the main fray....Femi also participated in that battle. He fought well."
Arieus's steely gaze locked onto Femi. He took in the new changes he noticed. The increased height, the storm-ringed eye that seemed to hold a tiny, captured tempest, the bloody bandages that spoke of deep wounds. Something flashed in Arieus's eyes, a spark of recognition, as if a long-held puzzle piece had just clicked into place.
"Now..I see." he muttered quietly to himself.
He gave a nod.
Femi, for his part, stayed quiet, his large ears twitching. From the conversation, it was clear Varga was in deep trouble because of him and might receive a serious punishment for it. A pang of guilt shot through him, but it was quickly subsumed by the urgency of the moment. He couldn't help but point his free hand, with one claw extended, at the dense ranks of skeletons that still stood between them and the silent, observing juju priest.
"The guests are getting bored, Great War Chief," Femi said, his voice carryed a strange, certainty that was utterly out of place for him. "If you allow it, I may have a way to show them the door out. Permanently."
"Femi, don't.." Varga tried to stop him. One did not lightly propose plans to the Arieus in the midst of battle especially someone of his rank.
Arieus's head tilted. "Interesting. It seems your balls have grown along with the rest of you, ratling." Something of a smile touched his lips. "But I am interested in this plan a near-dead rat has come up with. Speak quickly."
Femi's grin was sharp, his whiskers twitching. He stood straighter, the bandages pulling tight across his chest.
"You won't be disappointed."
-----
The Krag line, invigorated by their War Chief's presence, surged forward. They became a green tide of righteous fury crashing against the horde of bone.
Groups of skeletons, tried to form a shield wall against them. Yet, Goruk and his men didn't break their stride. The massive Krag dropped his shoulder low, and slammed into their formation. Wooden shields splintered into a thousand fragments. Before the skeletons could recover, he was among them. His two-headed axe swept out devastating and shattering spines and femurs, sending clouds of bone shards into the frosty air.
A reverse stroke came down on a skull with the finality of a falling keke crushing it to powder and leaving a small, smoldering crater of blackened snow. He moved with a shocking, terrible grace for his size, each swing a masterclass in controlled, overwhelming violence.
His men, howling their own battle cries, took the opportunity to rush in and batter the disoriented undead forces. This relentless press gave an opening for Varga and her own small group to flank the undead, providing a mobile defense for Goruk's sides while also, crucially, covering the limping form of Femi as he began to put his plan into motion. Where Goruk was a sledgehammer, Varga flowed around the big attacks, exploiting the gaps his fury created.
A trio of skeletons lunged at Goruk's exposed back; Varga's own, axe severed the lead creature's sword-arm at the elbow. And her men, blocked the opposing group, their bodies forming an unpassable wall. As the creature she faced staggered, she spun inside its guard, and drove her axe handle into its jaw, snapping its head back with a sickening crack before a final, clean bash through its eye socket shattered the skull into pieces.
Areius, with the bulk of the Krag warriors at his back, slammed into the skeletons Varga's group was fighting, creating a pincer that ground the undead between them. The maneuver opened a small gap in the enemy lines an opportunity that most of the warriors, locked in their own life-and-death struggles, would never notice.
But Femi's eyes, were locked on it. He looked past the fray, his gaze pinpointing the silent, robed figure who had orchestrated all this carnage. The necromancer stood unmoved.
"Well, then," he muttered to himself, flexing his clawed hands. "I am rested enough. Time to finish this." He shook his bandaged body.
"Village people, I beg all of you," he announced, his voice suddenly loud and clear. "Don't interfere, or I go swear for ona." he allowed the threat hang in the air for a second before he moved.
He dropped his ferum he was holding, took a deep breath that filled his lungs. Then he took a step, then another, his pronounced limp seeming to vanish and, replaced with an abnormal, grace as he began to run.
"He is moving!" Varga muttered, her eyes widening as he was already weaving through the thick of the combat with a speed and agility he hadn't shown before.
He met the skeletons and evaded them, his body contorting around sword swings and spear thrusts with preposterous, almost liquid agility. He moved like cooking smoke on a windy day, slipping between grasping bony fingers and scything blades without breaking stride.
He was almost clear, the necromancer now only twenty yards away and fully in his sights, when the earth before him trembled. From the ground directly in his path, a massive hand of fused bone and packed snow erupted, followed by a second. A giant skeleton, twice the height of a Krag, hauled itself out of the snow. Its ribcage was a cage large enough to hold a bear, and its eye sockets burned with a cold, malice that the lesser skeletons lacked. It wielded a sword that was probably crafted from the entire spine of some massive beast.
The giant brought the spine-sword down in a blow that would have split a boulder in two. Femi didn't dodge away.
"Let's go."
In a move that some might think in logical. He darted inside the arc of the swing, his movements eerily to watchers. As the massive blade smashed into the ground, sending a plume of snow and dirt into the air, Femi was already running up the creature's arm, his sharp claws finding purchase on the bare bone.
"What is he doing?" Varga breathed, her own fight forgotten for a moment as she watched the spectacle.
Arieus came to stand beside her, his own cleaver held on his shoulder. His face not showing shock, but deep understanding.
"The only reason I agreed with the rat's plan was because, I have the ability to kill the necromancer easily as long as I reach it,"Arieus stated, simply. "So it does not matter if your pet survived his mad dash or not."
Varga gave him glare at that assessment.
"But," Arieus continued, his eyes never leaving Femi, "that was not the only reason. For you see, I noticed something in him the moment he stood before me with his plan. Something I needed to confirm."
"What did you see? I myself noticed he may have kur-" Varga began.
"He is not relying on Kuros, Truth-seeker," the War Chief interrupted, "Look at his movements. The flow. The instinct. This is something else entirely."
The giant skeleton, enraged by the pest on its arm, swiped at its own shoulder with its free hand, but Femi had already leaped, flipping backwards through the air to land lightly on the ground behind it. He stood before the behemoth, seemingly calm. The giant skeleton swung again, a furious horizontal sweep meant to cut him in half at the waist. Femi simply leaned backwards, his spine and boy bending at an inhuman angle, causing the massive blade to whistle inches from his chest. He moved back upright as if pulled by a string.
"Listen well," Arieus said, his eyes fixed on the one-sided battle. "You don't seem to understand. This is not the power of Kuros, Varga."
Varga watched, mesmerized. Femi moved like water, evading crushing blows with minimal, effortless shifts. He was toying with the giant, a strange, serene focus had settled over his features as if he was studying it.
"You've seen this power before-" Arieus continued.
Both of their eyes were fixed on Femi's battle. The giant stomped forward, its massive foot rising to crush Femi into the earth.Yet, Femi didn't retreat. He took a step forward and then simply… disappeared.
Varga gasped. He hadn't vanished; he had moved with such speed that her eyes simply failed to track him. He reappeared above the skeleton, hanging in the air beneath the indifferent twin moons as if he was floating. His now grey fur, seemed to absorb the moonlight, and his storm-ringed eye glowed with an intense light.
"This power, Varga, is rare even among his kind, and almost unseen amongst the old race," Arieus finished, his voice heavy with a certainty.
Femi, suspended in that silent, weightless moment, unaware of his allies' discussion, felt a strange, euphoric sensation. The searing pain in his side was a distant memory. The noise of battle, the shouts and the shattering of bone, faded to a dull roar. The world felt slow, peaceful, and clear.
Badam. Badam.
So free...I think...I think.. I am beginning to like this floating in the air? The thought came and left at the same time.
He sighed.
"Well then," he whispered "Time to fall."
"Heavy."
Gravity reclaimed him with violent intent. He came crashing down, becoming a grey comet streaking towards the giant skeleton. The air screamed around him. His hands were empty, but as he fell, they clenched together into a single, hardened fist, held high above his head. The giant skeleton could do nothing but watch, as this strange creature descended with a force it could not begin to comprehend, pressure too immense for its unholy form to handle.
"Varga," Arieus said, his voice flat and final. "Your little ratling is what we call a Mutant."
CRACK-BOOM!
Femi's fist impacted the skeleton's skull. The sound was similar to a miniature thunderclap. The giant's head and entire upper torso exploded into a cloud of fine white powder. The leg bones, bereft of their command, stood for a moment then crumbled into a heap.
Femi landed hard on the pile of dust, skidding to a halt on one knee. He rose slowly, breathing heavily, his grey fur now matted with bone dust and sweat. He ignored the dissolving remains of his colossal foe. His mismatched eyes were fixed solely on the necromancer, who now had no champions left between them. A slow, dangerous smile spread across Femi's face.
He took limping steps forward, his injury seeming to return now that the adrenaline was fading.
"'Hello there," Femi cheerful said."Mister Juju Priest." He gave a slight, mocking bow. "I am glad to finally be meeting face to face."
The necromancer didn't move. No emotion could be seen from within the deep hood of the cloak. The battlefield had fallen silent, every Krag and every remaining skeleton pausing to witness the confrontation.
The necromancer's head tilted slightly.
'Well then,' a dry, rasping voice, like stones grinding together, emanated from the shadows of the hood. 'Shall we?'