Introduction
Well well well, the ship is done! I have a lot to catch up on but I am pleased that I have managed to (mostly) keep up with Mortis Custos and to never drop this ball!
I will be able to do a lot more of my other fiction as well soon! Yay!
The last part of the story is here: Mortis Custos Part 77 by @lex-zaiya.
To start at the beginning of the story please see the links provided at the end of this post!
Viewer discretion is advised due to gory violence! Undead! Swords! Death! Beware!
Part 78
Beyond the walls of the City there was a strange convergence. The Army of undead that had gathered for the assault seemed endless. The Shambling was never much good at fighting, what they had to make up for this was the ability to ignore mortal wounds, and pain and come in absolute droves.
The Necromancer grinned, his thin face was covered in course yet sparse hairs. "Soon my Master will give the command and my Horde shall surge forth to consume the living. After Dragonshold is overthrown, then the world shall tremble beneath the feet of the Shambling."
Nobody answered. The undead that surrounded him were different but still incapable of having a conversation. There were twenty of them, massive brutes that had been bred for war before they had died. Each one was armed with a spear and shield and were armored in thick plate armor.
These were there to fend off any attempt at assassination or assault. The Necromancer hated wearing heavy armor. He preferred his moldering robes.
The sea of undeath was not uniform either. There were several phalanxes of armored soldiers with shields and spears. Behind them were ranks of archers, their arrows tipped in poisoned bone. These were also dead however, but they would be sent in after the Shambling started drawing the Castle's fire and began wearing the living down.
There were larger shapes among the undead as well. Dreadthings by the score. The Necromancer did not want them all together in one group or else some magic or siege device would be employed to wipe them out. As they assaulted all over the lines and constantly, they would bring terror to the foe.
There were also Swamp Ogres, caught and killed and resurrected to drive forward the battering rams and mangonels that the Necromancer had built in cities that he had conquered.
The Necromancer fondly counted off all the fine deaths and glorious bloodshed he had committed to turning these poor things into dignified and pure undead. He grinned again and was about to continue speaking to himself when the course hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end.
His long tapered ears perked up as the hairs on them began sensing a shift in the pressure of the air around him. He immediately dropped down to one knee and bowed his head a second before the light blossomed forth out of nothing.
With a ripping noise as though the fabric of existence was being torn a blast of furnace-like heat washed over the Necromancer. From his downcast eyes, he saw the surroundings darken as well as begin to glow in a red that was so dark and oppressive, it felt unnatural and wrong to his senses.
"Ah, Temolach. Faithful Necromancer. You felt me arrive." The voice came. It seemed to say fond things while remaining utterly cold. For all its coldness, it held a firm grasp of command that demanded his full attention and utter sacrifice should it be required."
"My Lord Avatar." The Necromancer said. Even though this being's will was absolute, he was annoyed at being called by his birth name. "Your armies stand at the ready."
"The Great Devourer is pleased. The Lord of Undeath has sent you forth a boon."
"And what is that o Lord?" The Necromancer asked.
"The energies within the castle has shifted. The Burning One's forces have been drawn in, different to what was there before. More... pure... more... heated. Yet at the same time, the energies in the castle has brought forth our God's energies as well and he has molded them and shaped them for centuries for this day."
The Necromancer said nothing, yet this confirmed his suspicions about the Avatar of Entropy, the foreman of the Great Devourer has traveled in time as a man may travel in a boat to distant lands for their God was beyond time and thus the Avatar, too, seemed to travel across it.
Temolach chose his words carefully. "I am... honoured at the boons bestowed to our cause." He dared to look up and saw within the darkness and red light the shifting energies framing along an austere looking face. The Avatar's face was pointed with cold flames like a beard and his eyes were glowing like a sullen red sunset.
"Indeed. Take these three and commence your attack."
"Three? A strange number to add to my horde."
"These are without parallel. They are each the equal of an army... or a champion of the Burning One."
The Necromancer nodded his head and the light of the Avatar faded and reality seemed to heal over the rent open space in its fabric. Beyond where the wan, chilling light had been stood three figures.
One stood at the front, its form was not human, yet humanoid. Its arms dragged on the ground and were covered in spiny scales. Meanwhile it was blindfolded.
Another was the height of a Dreadthing but it did not seem muscular. Instead it seemed whispy and fluid, its form seemed to consist of legs, fins, tendrils, tentacles, claws and more. Nothing stood still, nor did each seem to bear any of its weight. It seemed as though this undulating mass was floating in water.
The third was squat, muscular and armored in thick plate. Its features were completely covered and in its fists it held a hammer and an axe.
The Necromancer sat back on his haunches in a way only someone of his mixed heritage could. His released knees made it easy to sit while being ready to jump up and away within a second. He scratched his course, thin beard he supposed he must have inherited from his father.
"Well then. The Avatar has spoken. We must take his castle that he may claim his throne from those who pretend and bring Order back to this realm for the flames of the Burning One has skewed this place."
He turned his attention on the walls and gave forth a shrieking call that echoed across the landscape.
A shrieking was heard. It chilled their bones to the core. It felt as though the sound itself was draining his energy and making his hand holding the bow go numb,
"Hold fast men!" The grizzled sergeant said. "They'll be coming soon."
"What are supposed to do against all that?" He asked the sergeant. "We have shadowy cloaked figures on the wall on one side, flesh-eating ghouls on the other, and all of THAT coming towards us... how are we going get through this?"
"Just follow orders boy." The Sergeant said.
Footsteps struck the flagstones behind the archers and the rest of the Dragonshold men. "Just remember that the ghouls and the life-drinkers are on OUR side. Their leaders are our allies and their enemies are the same as our own."
The commanding voice awed the archer and stoked a fire in his belly. He stood straighter and felt far more confident.
Queen Mary stood on the battlements behind her soldiers on the wall. She was surrounded by guards from the Castle but a few strange figures also joined her. A young man wearing only pants was standing beside the massive man with the axe they had seen turn into a monster. There was a winged woman who had claws on her feet. A massive barbarian stood on the Queen's one side, his muscles bare except for leather straps and iron rings. On the Queen's other side was a woman in a purple robe.
"Men of Dragonshold! Show the enemy no mercy! Show them no respite! Show them no fear! You fight for your crown, you fight for your city, and you fight for your families!"
The sergeant was the first to answer and hundreds of voices raised the warcry and brandished their spears, swords and bows skyward.
The massive man with the axe set forth a howling that the young man echoed and soon enough the ghouls on their left were howling and baying in a frenzy. The shadowy army on their right did not make a sound, but there was a salute and suddenly these cloaked figures were casting off their cloaks in the dying light of the overcast afternoon. Swords and bows were raised without a cry, their armor dark and their skin pale.
"Today shall be a battle as had never been seen before in all of the histories combined." The Queen said softly behind the archer but most of them heard what she said.
It would indeed.
Wrapup
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