Vainglory 3.20 - Here We Go Again

This was a fun chapter, imo. I hope you all enjoy it! See you on Wednesday with 3.21 :)

-Plum

20 – Here We Go Again

“Where’s the sun?” Lali asked, peering up at the hazy, pale blue sky. Ward followed her gaze and saw what she meant. It was clearly the middle of the day in the Garden Gates, but where exactly the sunlight was coming from wasn’t clear.

“Huh. Pretty strange.”

Trent Roy, a dozen feet ahead at the next corner, was peering left and right. He was a good fighter and clever and cautious, so Ward didn’t mind him scouting ahead a little. It also helped that Ward knew exactly what spells he had at his disposal. As promised, he’d given Trent a copy of Mana Bolt toward the end of their journey on the living ship—compensation for the many hours of sword training Trent had given him.

Aside from that spell, Trent could shield himself with icy magic, create a bright, magical flare, and, if he was hurt badly, he could siphon the life force of his fallen foes. Trent said he’d only use that last one in dire circumstances, as it cost him a sliver of his sanity every time he cast it. Ward looked over his shoulder at Haley, watching her as she brought up the rear, her gaze shifting left to right, ever watchful.

“Ward,” Trent whispered, beckoning him forward. Ward hurried to the man’s side, and Trent pointed to the right, around the corner. “There’s a large courtyard that way. I don’t see anything, but it seems…off.”

Ward nodded, moving forward so he could see around the corner. The ancient stone walls that bordered their path through the overgrown garden widened into a big square, probably fifty paces across. It was overgrown, with mounds of rotten vegetation near the corners and flower-covered vines that had long outgrown the masonry planters that surrounded a burbling fountain at the center.

The fountain was interesting—circular and made of black marble. A lithesome nude figure, also carved from shiny black stone, with a woman’s upper half and a fawn’s lower half, stood in the basin's center. Her hands were the spouts for the water, trickling down in twin streams.

Ward unfocused his eyes, letting his other senses take primacy. He heard distant birds and the roars of strange beasts. He heard yipping howls and the coughs of great cats. At least, those were the animals his imagination conjured up at the sounds. Closer to hand, he heard the tinkling of the fountain and the rustle of the wind through the leaves of the hedgerows and vines. He took a long, slow inhalation and noted a fetid, musky odor beneath the almost too-sweet scents of the flowers.

It was an animal smell, unclean, with a hint of carrion. “There are animals in there. Carrion eaters.”

Lali, much closer than he’d expected, whispered into his ear, “You can see ’em, or is it a scent?”

“A scent.”

“Carrion eaters,” Trent said, clearly deep in thought. After a brief pause, he continued, “If we can’t see them, they may be small.

“There are places to hide in there,” Haley observed, nodding toward the stone planters and piles of vegetation.

Lali thumped her crossbow’s stock in her palm. “Let’s have a look, yeah? Ain’t none of us too soft for some scavengers.”

Ward slowly drew his sword, surprised to see the deep, jagged runes glowing faintly red. Trent noticed, too. “I don’t remember it glowing like that when we were sparring.”

Ward held the sword before him. “I’ve only noticed it when it's near hostile magic.” He didn’t want to mention that it also flared with red light when it absorbed a hostile spell. That wasn’t a secret he wanted to advertise.

“Well, that’s not encouraging,” Lali whispered.

Ward frowned, looking at his three companions. “I’ll go first.”

“Pardon me, Ward,” Lali said, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder, “but I’m practiced at leading the charge, so to speak.” She clenched her fist inside her thick gloves and thumped his shoulder so the chainmail on her arm jangled. “Do you mind?”

Ward shrugged and gestured toward the courtyard with his sword. “Right behind you.”

Lali nodded, lifting her crossbow to her shoulder, and then stepped ahead, walking right through the archway bordering the courtyard. Ward and the others were right behind her. Trent had his rapier in one hand and his jagged, two-foot-long “sword breaker” in the other. He’d often used the combination during their spars, teaching Ward how to avoid getting his blade caught in the spines of the sword breaker. In the case of a sword like Ward’s, it wasn’t so much a breaker as a catcher. Regardless, it made Trent a difficult man to duel.

Ward walked in Lali’s footsteps, about two yards behind her. Roy cut to the right and Haley to the left. Nothing happened at first, and Lali paused near the fountain, turning in a slow circle while the others continued to advance around the perimeter. Lali lowered her crossbow as she scanned past him, and he appreciated her not pointing the thing in his face. He was about to suggest they investigate the fountain when soft rustling sounded around them, and Lali’s bow twanged.

Ward tracked the direction of her aim and saw she’d fired it into one of the piles of vegetation. Something squealed, and then all hell broke loose. Yard-tall, bipedal rats launched out of the vegetation all around the square. They were in the piles of vines and branches, in the hedges, in the vine-covered planters, even in the fountain. There had to be twenty or thirty of the things, and they all made a racket of squeals and hisses as they attacked.

In the frenzy of sudden combat, Ward lost track of his companions and their actions, forced to focus on the five or six rat-men who’d surrounded him, stabbing with crude spears and slashing with razor-like claws. He fought defensively at first, but when he connected with one and sheared its arm off, he felt a burst of vicious bloodlust and went on the attack, laying about him with his heavy sword with abandon.

He smashed aside spears, snapping them like twigs. He used his heavy boots to kick the creatures back, making room for himself as he drove the attack, slaughtering the little savage monsters. In the melee, he glimpsed Trent with a similar pack around him, gracefully fending them off and delivering deadly stabs. Haley wove among them, kicking, chopping, and throwing the creatures like a giant fending off children.

They probably only weighed fifty pounds or so, but Haley wasn’t all that large. She had a knack for using momentum, though, effortlessly flinging the monsters left and right or smashing her fists into them, shattering bones or igniting their fur. When Ward caught sight of Lali, the big warrior presented a polar opposite to Haley’s style. She fought more like Ward, wading through the throng of little rat-men, trusting her armor as she blasted them with her heavy ball-mace. She caved in skulls, shattered collar bones, or broke spines—every blow economical in its delivery of deadly force.

The onslaught ended as suddenly as it began. Some signal Ward couldn’t discern—a particular type of screech or chitter, no doubt—signaled a retreat, and the rat-men, as a group, turned and fled, diving into the hedgerows, clambering over walls, and scurrying up walkways Ward’s party hadn’t yet explored. When they were gone, Ward counted twenty corpses scattered around the square.

“Anyone hurt?” Lali asked, her voice ringing out like a sergeant’s. She scanned the area, her green eyes bright under her helmet’s rim.

“Fine,” Ward said, stomping toward Haley. She was holding up her left arm, probing at some deep scratches.

“Unmarked,” Trent added.

“I have a—”

“Bad cut,” Ward finished for Haley. He moved behind her to access her pack, digging in the side pocket for a jar of healing salve.

“You’ll want to take a poison antidote,” Lali said, walking over, her gore-covered mace still clutched in her fist. She’d somehow slung her crossbow over one shoulder in the heat of battle, adding it to her three packs.

“Right,” Ward agreed. “We’ve got some.” He handed the salve to Haley, and as she smeared it into her cut, he dug out a tin of green pills that smelled like seaweed and licorice. He took one out and handed it to her. “Remember what the apothecary said—”

“Let it melt under my tongue, aye.” She sounded irritated, and he knew why; she was a Gopah expert but had been the only one to get injured.

“Hey,” he said, moving into her view so her pale eyes were forced to look into his. “You know how battles go. It’s chaos. Injuries like that are fifty percent bad luck. Now, stay positive and—”

“Um, folks,” Troy interrupted, “I think they’re coming back.”

“Back to back!” Lali roared, leading by example and putting her back toward Ward and Haley. Trent hurried over, and the four formed a loose circle, watching the edges of the square. The sounds that had alerted Trent became evident immediately—scurrying claws, rustling leaves, chitters, and screeches. There were so many chitters that even Ward started feeling a little panic crawling up his spine. Then the horde was on them, pouring over the walls, bursting from the shrubs, and, somehow, exploding out of the fountain.

If they’d fought thirty in the first wave, this one was more like three hundred. “Holy shit!” Ward cried as he saw more and more of them pour over the walls. It was the only exclamation he had time for as the front line came into range, and he had to put all of his sword training to work, forcing his mind to be quiet and stay disciplined as he hacked and thrust, chopped, and kicked.

Blood misted the air as his sword and Lali’s mace obliterated the little creatures. Haley grunted and hissed, and Ward knew she was going through her styles with record speed. The only one who seemed almost at ease during the frenzied battle was Trent Roy. The man was a savant with his rapier, and his mind was unflappable. He never gave an inch, and he never overextended. He held his position, and any creature that got within range of his lightning rapier immediately fell back, sometimes with a slash, sometimes with a deep puncture wound, and sometimes missing an eye for its trouble.

Lali was no less effective, though her methods were more like a threshing machine. She grunted, screamed, and cursed, hacking her mace left, right, and overhead, pulverizing the little creatures. Ward was similar, and as the haze of battle tinted his vision and blood misted the air, his wolfen nature came more and more to the surface. He growled savagely and welcomed the beast because his arm was flagging, tired from swinging the heavy sword with such force. The wolf had much more endurance, and it showed as his blows began to snap through the air, a blur of deadly steel that cut through fur and bone like a scythe through wheat.

As the battle waged on and on, it was the big, armor-clad fighter who first grunted and gasped, “I can’t keep this up all damn day!”

“Their numbers wane!” Trent called. “At least on our side!” He was sharing a corner with Ward, and it was true—the rat-men on that side had thinned dramatically as Ward let more and more of his wolf out.

Ward growled, struggling to find his words. He’d expanded in size, ripping his shirt and pants. Black fur covered his arms, and he could feel his oversized canines against his lips. After some effort, he ground out words that felt suddenly foreign to his mind, “Trent! Hold?”

“I’ve got this,” the man replied, and Ward lunged into the fight, employing his sword and his claws—black, inch-long things that tipped his oversized fingers. He waded into the rat-men with abandon, hacking, kicking, clawing, driving them back as he made his way around to the bulk of the horde still facing Lali and Haley. His presence in their midst gave his beleaguered companions a bit of respite as he slaughtered and broke the rat-men’s ranks.

Trent closed ranks with Lali and Haley, and the three continued to fight back to back while Ward went through the little vicious monsters like a pit bull loose in a barn full of rats. He worked his way through them, heedless of their claws and crude spears. In truth, as more and more of the lycan came out, as he surged in size and his fur thickened, the little rats could hardly scratch him, and their spears were ineffectual. Any damage to his flesh quickly mended as his lycan regeneration surged with the prominence of his bloodline.

He only fought among the creatures for a couple of minutes before they broke again, fleeing madly as he pursued, ripping and throwing them, broken and bloody, to the ancient, vine-covered stones. When they were gone, and a thick, swollen silence descended on the ruins of the garden, Ward stood heaving, slick with the blood of his foes.

“Shit an’ toadstools,” Lali gasped, leaning forward, hands on knees, panting.

“Are you okay, Ward?” Haley called, still standing near the other two, fists clenched, slick with sweat and blood.

Ward wasn’t yet himself, but he waved a fur-covered arm, flinging droplets of blood from his pointy black claws. He’d wanted to chase after the rat-men, but he’d fought himself, reminding his wolfen side that even a lycan needed to be crafty. These rat-men might be cowards, and they might die easily, but they might also have traps and other tricks in store—better to bide his time and keep his pack safe. His pack. Ward chuckled, looking at Haley and the others. He supposed the word fit, at least in a sense.

As the color returned to his vision and his breathing returned to normal, no longer huffing like a bellows, he watched as the fur thinned out and slowly sank into his flesh. His hard nails shrank back, almost painfully, into his fingers, and his joints clicked and popped as his extra girth and lengthy limbs returned to normal. He looked down at his wool pants, split at the seams, and cursed. “I only brought two extra pairs.”

“The air is thick with blood and guts!” Haley said, pulling a towel from her pack and walking toward the fountain.

“Haley!” Ward yelled, stopping her in her tracks.

“What?”

“Don’t go to the fountain alone. Some of these bastards came out of it. Besides, remember what Gwen said?”

“What’s that,” Trent asked, cleaning his rapier with a patch of supple, oily leather.

“She said some of the fountains grant boons, and some can…” Ward frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t remember her exact words—curse or poison or something.”

“Let’s regroup at the walkway,” Lali suggested, pointing to the path they’d used to enter the courtyard.

“Yeah,” Ward grunted, also eager to escape the stinking piles of bodies. “Come on. Let’s clean our wounds up and take a breather out of this mess.” Nobody argued, and when they made their way out of the courtyard, Ward couldn’t help noting Lali was limping. He walked closer to her. “What happened to you?”

“Little bastard worked a spear into the joint. I’ve got some healing oil to put in there.” Ward nodded, watching as she sat on the relatively clean flagstones on the walkway, leaning against the stone wall. After a minute, she grunted, reaching up to unbuckle her belt. “Hate to say it, but I gotta drop my drawers. Haley, do you mind helping me out?”

Ward looked at Haley and saw she was already smearing more salve on the cuts and scratches on her arms. Trent was drinking from a water flask, staring back the way they’d come. He looked uninjured, though it was a little hard to tell with all the blood smeared on his leather vest and pants.

Ward walked over to him. He was jealous of the man’s light, leather armor, especially as he contemplated his own ripped clothing. He wasn’t sure it was bad enough to change, or if he wanted to; he’d probably end up ruining whatever he put on, so he figured he might just put up with it for now. Despite his jealousy, he knew things would be worse with leather; it was more expensive, and he’d ruin it every time he was forced to let his lycan nature surge. “No injuries?” he asked.

“None to speak of. A few nicks I treated with some salve.”

“You’re a damn good fighter, Roy,” Ward said, falling back on his habit of using his friends’ last names.

“Hah, you slew the lion’s share.”

“Maybe, but you… Well, let’s just say I’ve never seen someone so cool under pressure like that. Even Lali was pretty shaken up.”

“Well, she’s got her size. I imagine she’s always been a bit bigger than her contemporaries, and you know how that goes.”

Ward narrowed his eyes at the man, realizing he was lumping Ward into the same category. “Well, I haven’t always been quite this tall or strong,” he chuckled. “I get your point, however. I’ve been able to rely on brute strength a bit more than my more moderately sized buddies.”

Trent nodded and, speaking softly, said, “I’m not saying she isn’t formidable, but when it comes to a protracted battle, one must learn to conserve strength. I could teach her a thing or two about smashing that enormous mace around, but I promise you, she wouldn’t have ears for a man like me.”

Ward glanced at the two women, careful not to get caught ogling as he saw Lali’s pale, exposed thighs; she’d pulled her thick leather trousers down below her knees so Haley could work on her wound. When he looked back at Trent, he arched an eyebrow. “A man like you?”

“A duelist, not a soldier. They have a certain contempt for my type, you know? There’s a bond built in the barracks and on the battlefield.”

“Well, we just fought a hell of a battle, and if she doesn’t find your skill impressive, then she’s a fool. Anyway, I think that mess went pretty damn well, all things considered.”

Trent nodded. “Aye.”

“All done here,” Haley called.

Ward thumped Trent on the shoulder and turned to approach her and Lali. “Gonna be all right?”

Lali nodded, buckling her belt. “Oh, aye. The oil burns, but it kills poisons and speeds healing.”

While she spoke, Ward let his gaze drift back to the courtyard, and his eyes widened in wonder as he saw thick clouds of mana gathering over the piles of rat-men corpses. “Holy shit,” he whispered, staring. Did that mean those awful little creatures had souls?

Trent stepped up beside him, also staring with wide eyes. “Mana,” he said.

“Yeah.” Ward drew his sword across his torn pants, wiping most of the gore off the blade. “A ton of it.”

“Those creatures had mana?” Haley asked, standing to follow the two sorcerers’ gaze.

“Yeah,” Ward said again.

“Ward,” Trent asked, “are my eyes acting up, or is that fountain bubbling?”

“Oi!” Lali cried, leaping to her feet. “It’s bubbling all right!”

Just then, an enormous dark-furred head emerged from the water. It was a rat-man, only this one was closer to Lali’s size. It had bright red eyes, wore a rusted chainmail shirt, and carried a huge polearm with a massive rusty blade. As it emerged from the fountain, stepping onto the bloody flagstones with broad clawed feet, it opened its mouth and roared. That was when the vegetation began to rustle again, and rat-men, screeching and chittering, flung themselves over the walls and out of the shrubs.

“Here we—” Ward started to say.

“Go again,” Haley finished.