IABD 50: A Horde of Grey

‘It spoke,’ Matthias thought. ‘The thing can speak! It speaks our tongue!’

The ghoul knight’s eye-symbol was fixed on Matthias as though he was its oldest enemy. A long tongue slipped from between needle-like fangs, running across cracked lips. 

“Feeeaaaast!” it hissed again, and the horde redoubled its speed, their hungry cries echoed into the skies.

Grey bodies skittered over fallen boulders, ghouls crawled over each other, their teeth gnashing.

Beggahasta was beside her children in an instant. “Fight as long as you can. I will have your backs.” 

Matthias’s gaze met that strange eye symbol for a long moment. 

The creature’s death grin widened.

The young greatfolk tensed.

Then the monsters were on them and there was no more time to think.

He tore his eyes away from the ghoul leader, his blade and warhammer flashing around him. Steel blade and hammer impacted undead flesh and bone, sending rotting fluid spraying through the air. The shadow-tendril swept low, knocking the feet out from under the ghouls, sending them sprawling across the wet cobblestones.

As they fell, the tendril rose, slamming down on their skulls, shattering bone or encircling their heads, twisting them from their necks.

His hammer crushed bone.

His sword cleaved undead tissue.

Beside him, Bregindoure kept his shield up, striking out with his mace in wide, uncoordinated sweeps. Every swing hit ghoul bodies though, reducing them to shattered body parts, splattering them like paste on the ground. Ghouls leapt high in the air—trying to pounce on the giant while clawing at his face—but he would swing his shield arm, knocking them away like they were no heavier than air.

Between her brothers, Dagma finished off any attackers with her sword blade.

There was no time for her to concentrate on The Gift.

Especially as the tide of ghouls kept increasing.

Matthias’s swings were becoming more desperate; there were way too many ghouls, and even his speed and powerful strokes could not bring all of them down. 

The first of the giant ghouls reached them.

Judging by its stony back, tail, long pointed ears and broad mouth, it had most likely been a troll in life. The ghoul towered over Bregindoure, and was much broader than the other undead. Making a noise that sounded part growl and part hiss, it snarled, raising a clawed hand the size of a shovel and brought it down on Matthias.

He side-stepped, slashing at the arm; his sword bit deep into tough hide, but couldn’t sever the limb.

With deceptive speed, the massive troll-ghoul swung its arm back up, Matthias jumped back; the trunk-like limb passed inches from his nose. He tried to wrap his shadow-tendril around the creature’s leg, but—even pulling with all his might—he could not topple the enormous undead.  

Then more ghouls reached them, some leapt on his shadow-tentacle, clawing and biting at it; he called on the Way of Stone, pouring life force into the tendril, hardening it against the creatures’ fangs and claws. 

With empowered strength, the tendril shook off the attacking ghouls and dove for the troll’s lower leg again, trying to trip it.

The giant undead still would not budge.

Its claw swept downward, toward the young greatfolk, he channeled life force into his arms, raising them to block. The monster’s swipe hit his raised weapons. The blow from the undead troll nearly buckled his knees, numbing his arms; the creature was nearly as strong as the demonic-beast tiger.

Cursing, Matthias hammered its wrist, trying to snap it in two, only for its bones to turn aside the steel of his weapon. He dropped the warhammer, pouring life force into his gauntlet—swelling it to its obsidian form—and fired spikes at the ghoul-troll’s misshapen face.

The stone spikes bit into undead tissue, yet not slowing the monster even one bit, only driving it into a frenzy. It began flailing wildly, like a rabid beast unaffected by pain. Matthias’ world became a flurry of flashing, pounding arms. His sword slashed, severing thick fingers, while his fist smashed against the creature’s arm, driving the spiked gauntlet into its tough hide.

It still did not slow.

Even worse, it was healing from the few wounds he’d managed to give it.

He remembered that trolls could regenerate from most wounds, and it seemed that troll-ghouls were no different.

This fight was becoming futile.

The ghouls were surging all around them, getting closer, increasing in number. Occupied with the undead giant, Matthias couldn’t hold the rest of the horde off. More gigantic undead were closing in, their tongues lashing as hunger burned in their eyes.

He, Bregindoure, and Dagma were being overwhelmed, they wouldn’t be able to hold out.

They would be—

“You’ve done well,” Beggahasta said suddenly, then spoke a single command. "Pierce.”

Her will struck the cobblestones near them; they shuddered under her power.

Warping and twisting.

Then changing shape.

A forest of stone spears erupted from the courtyard’s cobblestones—each no broader than a thumb—razor sharp tips ripped through ghoul flesh. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of projectiles rose through the air like raindrops, impaling the undead monstrosities as if they were cloth.

They thrashed on the stone stakes.

The ghoul knight’s grin abruptly vanished.

“Cut.” Beggahasta commanded.

Blades as thin as razors sprang from the stakes, shearing the ghouls into pieces. They dropped in chunks, littering the ground.

The towering warrior woman surveyed the courtyard.

Scores of ghouls had been cut down, and the remaining ones that had come pouring from the abbey paused, hesitant to cross the forest of spikes and blades. They stood in place, as though blocked by a barricade.

Matthias’ jaw dropped.

“Damn!” Bregindoure swore.

Dagma stared.

Beggahasta cursed under her breath. “I can’t believe I let myself grow so rusty. There was a time when I would have left none of those creatures alive, even those in the abbey. I suppose in time; I will just have to get back into practise. There are enough of them to hone my skills on.”

She turned her attention to the ghoul knight…

…finding the creature already retreating, screeching, as though calling his ghouls to him.

As one, the undead turned, rushing back to the abbey in a grey tide, following the ghoul knight and disappearing inside.

In heartbeats, the Stonebreaker family was standing alone in the courtyard, surrounded by the corpses of the undead.

Beggahasta watched the area in silence for a few moments. “They’re gone,” she finally said. “Fall.”

Stone spears slid back into the cobblestones, vanishing from view. 

Corpses and quivering bits of grey flesh littered the ground; the shredded pieces of undead trolls were trying to regenerate, seeking to make themselves whole.

“I will never cease to be amazed by the tenacity of troll kind,” Beggahasta watched the regenerating flesh. “Burn.”

The air around the remains of the undead giants burst into flame, quickly charring troll-flesh down to the bone. In moments, only charred bone and drifting ash remained, never to regenerate again.

“Better,” she said.

“Mother, that was legendary!” Dagma cried. “You struck them all down at once! I can’t wait to be able to do that!”

Bregindoure was grinning.

Matthias, however, was still thinking about that ghoul knight.

“What was that thing?” he asked. “The one that spoke...and spoke in our tongue?”

“Some ghouls become lords of their kind,” a voice said from above.

Matthias looked up to see Polla and Ellian floating in the sky above them, surveying the courtyard. “As ghouls age, some regain much of the intellect they had in life, though their minds become twisted by their unnatural existence, the elves could probably relate. They possess much of the memories and skills of their previous lives, but their motivation, personality and thoughts filter through the lens of their growing hunger.”

She floated down. “There are many different forms of undead, and they are driven by different animating forces and motivations. Ghouls are a kind of undead that are almost always driven by a hunger for flesh. That hunger twists the remnants of any mortal mind they possess, no matter how completely their memories return.”

Matthias frowned, watching her. “So that thing was like…a lord of ghouls? Where’d the armour come from?”

“The warlord in the story that Bregindoure told had many powerful warriors serving as his champions and commanders. Perhaps that creature was one of them at one time,” Ellian suggested.

“A good theory, but keep in mind that there are many ruins beneath the Abbey; this creature could have been a mortal who lived in any of the many civilizations that once existed here. Of course, it having knowledge of the northland tongue speaks to it being something more recent. Perhaps it could also have been a bandit, a knight or an adventurer who was unfortunate enough to fall to the ghouls.”

“But what was that strange eye carved into its forehead?” Matthias asked. “And what happened to its real eyes?” 

“That I cannot tell you,” Polla admitted. “There might be things going on beneath Windstone that no mortal knows. You, however, might find out over the next few years.”

“You will have to ward our houses strongly, Polla.” Beggahasta pointed out. “There must be hundreds of ghouls underground here. Maybe thousands. They will wait until nightfall and come again, especially now that we have alerted them to our presence.”

“My wards will keep them at bay,” Polla said, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “The ghouls will learn to fear our homes as much as they fear you, Lady Beggahasta.”

“And they will eventually fear all three of you, my children,” Beggahasta said, turning to the Stonebreaker siblings.

“I doubt it.” Bregindoure rumbled, wiping his mace on the ground. “There are thousands of them, and they were overrunning us.”

“That is true,” Matthias said. “If you weren’t here, mother, we would be dead.”

“I won’t deny that,” Beggahasta agreed. “But we will be here for years. Matt, you will be solidifying your foundation and learning about these undead; I will also be training you in the Way of Stone and in combat. Dagma and Bregindoure, I will be training both of you as well. And Breg, we are going to test your affinity for Life Enforcement.”

“Mother, I couldn’t even handle one of those undead trolls,” Matthias admitted. “How am I supposed to make them fear me when I couldn’t even strike one of them down?”

“You were able to slow it while fighting off a horde of its fellows. That’s a start,” Beggahasta pointed out. “Clever tactics will help you close the gap between your abilities and the troll ghouls. But…remember, just a few months ago you went from being helplessly tormented by Kari and his ilk, to being able to beat his father to within an inch of his life. Now, you’ve found another opponent to challenge you. It’s a wall for you to climb, and I am sure you will climb it, my son.”

She looked at each of her children. “And that goes for all of you. By the end of our training here, you will make these ghouls fear you… Dagma, you will have a harder road since you still have quite a few years ahead of you to grow into your full strength. But they will fear you all, eventually.”

Beggahasta rested Tallis on her shoulder and began walking toward the house her children had cleared of ghouls.

“But wait, won’t it be difficult to live here?” Bregindoure pointed out. “Even if the houses are warded against those ghouls, they will still try to get in at every opportunity. Sleep will be…difficult, to say the least.”

Beggahasta looked back over her shoulder and smiled. “My son, do you think the beasts and undead of the Wolfwood respect our camps? Do you think them polite enough to simply stand outside and wait for us to have a full night’s rest before resuming their attacks in the morning. No, children; in the Wolfwood—and on any battlefield—expect enemies to be constantly trying to overrun you, whether you are awake or asleep. Learning how to rest in such circumstances and when to be alert in such circumstances will be its own form of training.”

She strode away. “Come now, we must start readying our new home.”

Matthias, Bregindoure and Dagma looked at each other.

“You know, if I knew I’d be living in a ghoul infested ruin until my Blood Duty, I might have chosen to stay in the tower,” Bregindoure said.

“I’m almost beginning to miss Eklund,” Dagma groaned.

Sighing, both brother and sister started following the warrior woman.

Matthias swallowed, looking back at the abbey.

A host of emotions stirred inside him.

Anger. Anger at nearly being bested by a living corpse; he wanted to destroy that troll but—more than that—he wanted to end that ghoul knight. The creature’s mocking smile still burned in his mind…and he wanted to wipe it from its twisted face.

Fear. Fear of the unknown; the curse of Windstone hung heavy over him, leaving him feeling queasy. He hoped he’d grow accustomed to it, but what if he never did? And…there was still that feeling of apprehension that something dreadful was lying deep underground. Something he wished to flee from and destroy all at the same time. It was a paradox.

Anticipation. Anticipation at the growth that lay ahead of him. The mysteries that waited in the abbey. The desire to see what lay within those haunted halls and what treasures or mysteries lurked deep in the earth.

Sadness. Sadness at the horror that had been brought upon this once holy place. He wished that he wasn’t seeing it in its present state, now that it had become a filthy, undead-infested ruin, rather than what it once was, whole and in its full glory. 

All those emotions raged inside him; he calmed them using the Way of Stone.

He looked up at Polla. “These will be a difficult few years.”

“They will,” she agreed. “I did not say this experience would be easy: I said I would give you a mighty foundation. Considering your powers, this place will provide a mighty foundation.”

“Oh, I wasn’t shying away from the difficulty,” Matthias said. “I was just acknowledging it. The difficulty exists but simply acknowledging it doesn’t mean I want to get away from it.”

Polla’s eyebrows rose. “You sound like my son. Get some rest, Matthias. Starting tomorrow, you will have much to do.”

Clasping her hands behind her back, she floated toward one of the hermit houses.

Ellian bowed to Matthias. “Best of luck!”

The young greatfolk looked up at the youngster. “Are you alright with staying in such a terrifying place? Don’t you study in the Vale of Magi?”

“As Mistress Polla’s apprentice I have leave to follow her, and studying so close to her side is very valuable. I will be alright; the path of a mage is filled with danger,” he said, floating after his mistress.

“Brave boy,” Matthias muttered under his breath, before taking one final look at the abbey.

Tomorrow was going to be the start of a long journey.

At the end of it, he would have a solid foundation and perhaps…perhaps he might find a way of lifting the curse on this place.

“Like a legendary hero.” He smiled.

Turning, he followed his family into their new home.

###

Author's Note

Yoooooo! And so we hit the end of the week and enter the Foundation Solidification and Windstone Exploration arc properly. Excited for it! Also excited that I got to some of Beggahasta's power.


Next week will be the last of the 5x/week update weeks, after which we go to 3 days a week so I don't die haha. Still taking care of my health here.

Alrighty folks, I'll cya Monday!