Soul Slave

Death chasing

Quintus Harmont stood on top of a rooftop, looking out over the horde of undead citizens and elven soldiers gurgling and groaning; clawing at the building the two humans waited upon.

"Think he'll show?" Asked Saltire's champion.

"You saw the capital ship, right?" Quintus asked which his champion answered with a swift nod. "That's your answer then. He's in town, before sunrise. He'll get us out of this."

"We have not a single weapon to our name."

For a long while there was nothing but the cries and unnatural sounds of the corpses around them demanding to devour their flesh.

"We must blow up the trade district, seems us closing those two fucks in, left us in this pickle. If not the town would be nothing! Nothing but a flaming piece of shit waiting to be pissed out!"

"It'll kill us." The champion said.

Again the undead dominated the night's ambience for a few minutes. Quintus examined the moon for a long while, "It's about midnight, if my skill in astrology still holds any fucking bearing."

The champion's foot slipped a bit on the roof, catching himself by grasping ahold of the sandstone chimney. "Dammit! I don't want to die Quintus!"

Quintus looked at his right hand man like a rabid dog, but then controlled himself. "Fine! Look! Yes, right over there!" Quintus pointed below them past the undead, there was a fountain that was deep for swimming in.

The champion's platemail rattled as he held himself atop the roof.

"We jump, Mathias!" Yelled Quintus as he leaped towards the fountain.

Mathias watched as his liege landed into the fountain, vanishing underwater. Blind to what the darkness held he inhaled and leapt, his left foot slipping as he did. Crashing his armored back onto an undead, they began to bite, claw and scape at his armor to no avail as he'd wheeze and attempt to catch his breath from under his protection. He could feel something pressing hard into the left shoulder blade, rolling over onto his stomach. There were such horrific noises he felt as if he was losing his mind with fear.

The stench of the infected desperately made him gag, regaining himself and getting up with difficulty he'd attempt to punch the nearest undead only to be held at all angles. With the combined strength of the group they'd lift him and toss him head first at the building he was atop. Crashing his helmet into the building, as he slid down he'd go limp; that's all Quintus stayed around to see as he was peeking from the water, his body submerged except his eyes and nose. Diving deeper into the fountain he'd swim down to a metal hatch he knew was hiding at the bottom, pulling it out; water would begin flowing out quickly pulling Quintus down into it as he'd fully take the door off it's latches doing this all by memory over the cover of darkness.

Sliding down he'd slip one way then the other finally coming out midair in the dark abyss falling for a few seconds before landing into thick disgusting water; thankfully taking a giant lungful of air before clashing against the surface of the sewage. He emerged from the thick piss and shit, swimming forward in the darkness; his face so covered he was blind barely able to breathe. With great effort he'd shoot air out of his mouth over and over and quickly inhale without sucking in any of the body escremants.

Holding his right hand out after some time he'd grip ahold of a ledge, yet his grip was so slippery from the excess of his civilians he'd slip and fall backwards back into the sewage; taking in a huge breath before doing so. After pushing to the surface again he'd use the tip of his boots and fingers to shoot up onto the ledge. Flattening his hands out onto the stone he'd rotate around after lifting himself up and sitting his ass onto the concrete walkway.