The Demon's Dominion

Death in the Swamp

Two dirtbags get what they deserve.

------------------------------------

   The reddish sheeting flame of Firestorm suddenly enveloped the bile rat as it approached, moving quickly to attack the brothers. The rat screamed in furious anger, its fur aflame, as a greenish fog streamed into it, the toxically acidic Death Cloud spellcast ending its attack.
   "Farg, Jorek! Why did you have to Death Cloud it? We could've had that for dinner! Now it's poisoned! Just cook the next one, idiot!"
   "Oh. Well. I was kinda in a hurry. Didn't think. You know I hate those things."
   "Just stop using the poisonous spells, ok? We don't have gold to waste on food, so we eat what we catch. Just fry the fargin' things!"
   "Nag, nag, nag."
   "You don't need to be like that. You're hungry, too, I know. You've got the loudest fargin' belly grumbles I've ever heard. Let's eat the next one, not spoil it!"
   "Nag, nag, nag. Would you lighten up, Mardam? There's tons of those things around here. You want to eat all of them?"
   "No, idiot, just one. Use those poison spells on stuff we can't eat, would you? The Inn might be paying decent gold for what we bring in, too, so don't screw us out of that. We still need those Create Potion spells and they're expensive!"
   "Ok, ok, ok, we need gold. Nag."
   "Maybe you know how to Create gold? If you do, please show me! Otherwise, stop screwing around! This a business trip, not a vacation!"
   The brothers had kept walking, during their discussion, maintaining vigilance. A rustle in the tall grass of the swampy region northwest of their destination alerted them to the presence of something. The nature of the World required they assume it, whatever it was, to be dangerous.
   The rustling turned out to be a Bog Wraith, one of the very few living things in the world that didn't attack Humans on sight. It gracefully scuttled along, looking like a collection of leafy sticks loosely wrapped in vines, one of which suddenly shot out and spiked a bile rat on a thorn. The rat squealed as the tentacle rapidly drew it into a spiny mouth.
   If the brothers didn't farg with it, it would ignore them. It would defend itself vigorously, and was difficult to kill. It was good for nothing at all, except a fight, so the brothers let it alone, hopeful of the appearance something more profitable.
   The soggy ground was a little wetter than it had been on their last visit to Gloomy Vale, due to some recent heavy rains. The shoulder-high grass was green, and the edges of the blades were less hazardous for that reason. When the grass was dry, the edges could slice an unprotected finger to the bone very easily. Trails led off in seemingly random directions.
   There were frequent bloody, sometimes scorched, places on the trails, where a Hunter had fought for his life against the unremittingly hostile wildlife. The brothers were hopeful of finding such a spot where the Human had lost the battle. One could scavenge armor, weapons, and gold from such places. Nearly every item of gear and weaponry the brothers had was the result of such discoveries.
   As they walked, the sun beat down on the swamp. The torrid steaming environment had them sweating like goblins in their gear, but they didn't dare remove their helms or armor. Both were equipped with heavy chainmail, with surcoats woven of tough but soft stalker hair, and full helms that covered their necks and faces against blows from any direction. The chainmail was doubled over the torso, lighter on the arms. They had oval steel shields that were surprisingly light, yet durable enough to survive numerous heavy impacts, while being fairly easy to move into the paths of such blows. Their swords were Assassin's Katanas of Elven origin, expensive at Auction House, but worth the cost. Heavy dragonhide gloves and boots completed their attire.
   The brothers each had decent Mage spells - nothing fancy, like Mage's Wrath, but serviceable. They also had Healer spells, but no Create Potion spells. Potions, once Created, could be carried in their pouches and were lifesavers in a brisk fight, when they might be too busy to cast, or their mana too depleted for selfHealing. Also, having the Create Potion spells would relieve them of the ongoing expense of purchasing potions from Town Shops, a significant drain on their finances. So Create Healing Potion spells were currently at the top of their shopping list.
   "I hope we don't meet any fargin' Boneclaws. It's too fargin' hot to mix it up with one of those tough beasties. Zombie might be good, though."
   "With our luck, we won't get anything but the fargin' rats or Droolers. Bleh."
   There was no shade anywhere to get out of the broiling sun, so it was pointless to stop for a rest break. Occasionally one or the other would selfHeal to get relief from impending heat stroke. They carried on, watchful for opportunities.
   Nothing seemed to be available, though. Maybe the bright heat had suppressed the wildlife, driven them back into whatever holes they had for sleeping and breeding. There had to be such holes. The wildlife certainly didn't all crawl out of the ancient burial cavern complex nearby known as the Crypt. Some of the hostile wildlife was entirely natural, not corrupted by the Chaos Demon, or created by it, as were the Zombies, Skeleton Warriors, and Drooling Fiends.
   The crackling shriek of Mage's Wrath being cast came from the east. Someone powerful was engaging in combat. A high-pitched hissing scream answered. Boneclaw. Boneclaws were tough and aggressive hexapodal reptilian Chaos creatures that had no higher priority than killing Humans at every opportunity.
   The Wrath was repeated, mixing with Boneclaw screams. All that racket was likely to attract a crowd. The brothers looked at each other, silently agreeing it was worth the risk, to have a look. They might find weakened high-profit targets in the aftermath of an intense fight.
   Several bangs of Lightning Bolt came from the area of the fight. Someone had used a bit too much of their Mana on those Wraths, and now had to resort to less-demanding Mage spells. This seemed a good sign. Perhaps Jorek and Mardam could killstrike the Hunter while he or she was busy with the Boneclaw, too low on Mana to selfHeal!
   They hustled in the direction of the noisy fight. Bangs and hisses from Magecasts blended with the screeching of the Boneclaw. Jorek slowed, Mardam also, as they got close enough to see the grasstops waving around the disturbance. It appeared one Human was engaging one Boneclaw, so they eased in closer.
   "It's that fargin' buttwipe Walen. We ought to help the fargin' Boneclaw, then finish it after Walen's done. What do you think?"
   "Sounds good to me. Walen struts around like he thinks he's better than us. We should show him what's what."
   The two brothers moved in closer, preparing to cast Mage spells, trying to judge how weakened the man in front of them was by the fight.
   Even if weakened, Walen was showing great vigor and skill against the Boneclaw. He was using a Kryyn staff, with a footlong retractable steel blade on each end of the six-foot jade and silver inlaid steelwood shaft. The staff required both hands, so he had no shield. His armor was mana-neutral Chaos gear, forged by the Chaos Demon's slaves, and consecrated by the Demon's Dark Mages. The black plate mail covered his entire body to his knees, with a full-coverage helm. It was relatively heavy, but, even so, he leaped over the blurringly fast Boneclaw strikes, getting two or three bloody hits on it with nearly every attack. It had to be broiling hot inside the armor, but Walen showed no sign of it.
   The fight looked less like murderous fury, more like a very fast and complex dance, each combatant responding instantly to what the other was doing. The Boneclaw was much faster than any Human, possibly twice as fast, and much stronger, also, but Walen's training and experience made him a great deal more precise and efficient in his movements. The near-invisible speed of each gave a sort of cooperative flowing appearance to their mutual attempted butchery, punctuated frequently by the noisy flashes of Magecasts from Walen, as the frenzied violence proceeded.
   After several minutes, the Boneclaw was nearly done, slowing down, bleeding from numerous wounds, one hooked claw dangling. Walen stepped back a couple of paces, then cast Heal on himself twice during the time required for the Chaos beast to close for another attack.
   Jorek cast Icestorm at Walen. The spinning shards of smoking-cold ice missed as Walen sidestepped a swipe from the Boneclaw. Then Mardam's Acid Rain missed, as Walen sidestepped again, the Acid Rain blinding and nearly finishing the Boneclaw. Walen attacked once more, killing the Boneclaw, then turned to face the brothers, as they both cast Firestorm at him.
   Walen had already dodged, and moved immediately to attack Jorek, striking a powerful double slash that damaged Jorek's shield and mail, while casting Mage's Wrath at Mardam, who took the hit full in his face, blinding him, frying and evaporating much of his skin, despite his full-coverage helm. Mardam screamed, distracting Jorek long enough for Walen to stab him, deeply, twice in the chest, right through the chainmail. Walen cast Icestorm at Mardam, inflicting at least a dozen stabs with the ice blades, which melted immediately, allowing the wounds to bleed freely.
   "Well, well, well. The notorious bottomfeeding Twitchy Twins. Fancy meeting you here. Where's your mommy? Hasn't she warned you about going Outside without a grownup escort?"
   With one swipe of his staff, Walen killed a bile rat that tried to leap onto his back. Without even looking.
   "You fargin' goblin farger! We're gonna kill you! Who you think you are, anyway!? We got friends!" Jorek was trying to selfHeal his injuries, getting only failures in his agitation. Mardam was too busy screaming to notice the byplay. "You watch, you freak! Our friends find you you're dead!"
   "I rather doubt anyone silly enough to be your friends can be much trouble. Let them find me. I'll have their gear sold at Shop in only minutes."
   Walen cast another Mage's Wrath at Mardam, the brilliant blue screaming flash completely stripping the front of Mardam's skull. He then stabbed Jorek twice more, the Elf-made Kryyn staff almost invisible as he spun it into the second strike. Jorek collapsed, unable to focus well enough to try another selfHeal cast. His Mana was depleted, anyway.
   "Say hello to your cowardly backstabbing daddy," Walen said, as he put a blade through Jorek's left eye, killing him. He repeated this with Mardam, silencing the desperate screams.
   Walen stood quietly for a moment, listening. Then he Created and drank a Golden Healing Potion, fully restoring himself. There didn't seem to be anything approaching, so he stripped the bodies of the two dead men of their armor and weapons. There was barely enough gold between them to buy a decent meal at the Boar And Skewer, but they did have one Golden Potion each.
   "Only real idiots die with Goldens in their pouches. Sheesh. With these two dead, the entire World's average intelligence has increased."
   After using one of their katanas to behead the corpses, to prevent them from returning as Undead Chaos slaves, Combat Magister Walen picked up the bundle of gear and weapons, and started north, toward Byrendell, where the Auction House might help him sell this crap.
   Maybe he would just give it to some deserving Novices to train with.

An - The first very rough draft of this story was posted on the Facebook group Shade Limbo, spring 2014.