The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 4, Chapter 8

Chapter 8

11th Day, Upper Wind Month, 1 CE, 2300 Hours

“Oh, bless you, Thurgakhr, bless you! You’re a miracle worker!”

Snarls filled the air as three Urmah cubs tore into the carcass of a modestly-sized dog. The animal was a fortunate find: it had been standing out in the village where they had lured a group of Blood Meat Hulks. The lumbering Undead monstrosities had unexpectedly emerged from the shore, too close for the refugees they were escorting to escape. Thurgakr and her warriors did not expect to survive, but it seemed that fortune was with them for once.

Several of the tribespeople that they were escorting considered it a reward from the gods for Thurgakhr’s valour, but she and her warriors had only taken as much as they needed before offering the rest to the hungry refugees. Her tail lay limply on the ground as she watched the children eat. There were five, at one point. Two were still suckling and their mothers had been slain. Far from the stage where they could eat meat, they would have starved so they were killed and burned in hopes that they wouldn’t join the ranks of the Undead.

She imagined that the scene had repeated itself a hundred times across the fleeing wave of Urmah refugees. It would continue repeating itself unless the Undead advance was somehow stopped.

I can fight as many Undead as required, but if I have to watch children get butchered again…

Even when they weren’t doing it directly, the Undead brought suffering. She imagined that the lands that they fled through would be spawning more of them soon enough with all of the death and anguish that was wrought by the advancing horde. The lands of urmah Kisher were doomed, and the long journey that started deep in the lands of their home country had been for nought.

A twig snapped behind her. She jumped and flipped around to find one of her warriors who had gone out on patrol.

“Anything?” She asked.

“Nothing,” the warrior, Karagh, answered. “The Bone Vultures have thinned out and there’s no sign of those Blood Meat Hulks.”

Thurgakhr settled on her haunches, releasing a relieved breath. The civilians had been on the verge of collapse, but it now seemed that they had time to rest. They had found one of the strange forests that the Humans managed for wood, hiding themselves in the thickest patch of trees. She wasn’t sure how long they would be able to stay, but she was grateful for any reprieve.

“How long do you think it will take before the Undead catch up?”

“It’s hard to say,” Karagh replied. “It isn’t as if we left people behind to see how far away the Undead were. Most of them might’ve lost our trail with all the Human settlements we’ve put between us. Those Blood Meat Hulks came from the sea, though…”

“The Human fishing villages will attract them ashore eventually,” she scratched her ear in thought. “That town ahead…what do you think the chances are of the Undead reaching it before we do?”

There was a higher chance of finding food near towns. One or two Human travellers would sustain them until they crossed the river south of Blighthold. If it was necessary, they could grab a meal off of the walls as they went by.

“High,” Karagh said. “If the Undead in the water keep advancing until a Human settlement attracts them to the shore, they’ll be far ahead of us by the time we finish resting…assuming the ones behind us don’t catch up.”

If the Undead ended up chasing Humans around, it would likely buy them plenty of time to flee. They might even have time to hunt.

“I wonder if they have any traps in store…” Thurgakhr muttered.

“Traps?”

“Like the battle last night,” Thurgakhr said. “They had that powerful force come in from behind once everyone was in the valley. What if they try something like that again?”

“We’re in an open plain,” Karagh replied, “so that would be difficult. The Undead coming out of the water could surprise us like earlier today, so you could say that they did attempt to flank us there. They don’t seem to care whether they are attacking us or the Humans, though…that’s the way the Undead are, yes?”

It did make sense if one took a step back to examine the bigger picture. The Undead had come, but, as far as she knew, they were indiscriminate in their hatred of the living. Even those with intelligence, such as Elder Liches, made little meaningful distinctions between Humans, Goblins or even fish. The flame of life had to be snuffed out; the land despoiled.

While blame for drawing the Undead horde might be placed squarely at the feet of the clans attacking the Draconic Kingdom’s capital, now that the Undead were here, they didn’t have the luxury to point claws at one another. Banding together and destroying the unholy menace was the priority. Goro understood this, but urmah Kisher rejected his advice in its pride. Now, most of urmah Kisher likely fought against the living.

“We should rest,” Thurgakhr said. “No matter how we worry about it, these people are too tired to move. Let’s draw lots for the watch.”

She ended up with the last watch and retired between the gnarled roots of an old oak tree. A wide yawn filled her mouth and she stretched before resting her head and closing her eyes. Someone shook her shoulder. A sharp whisper pierced the air.

“Thurgakhr!”

“Wuh-huh?”

“The Undead are coming!”

Thurgakhr forced herself upright, trying to shake her lethargy away.

“Where…where are they?”

“They’re entering the edge of the woods.”

Dammit…

They had Darkvision, but it didn’t let them see vast distances in the darkness. Even with the moonlight, they could make out vague movements at best. Suffused as the air was with the reek of the Undead horde, it was impossible to discern individual groups by scent. It felt that the Undead turned themselves into a threat simply by shuffling forward.

“How many are there?”

“About two dozen,” Karagh replied. “Nothing strong.”

She knelt to shake one of the elders awake, pondering the information.

“Even if we win,” Karagh said, “we shouldn’t fight. Their controller will instantly note their loss.”

“I know! I was just wondering if it was possible to hide in the branches or something…”

“That’s crazy! We might evade this bunch, but we’ll end up in the middle of the horde.”

Would that be the case? There might be tens of thousands of Undead, but, if they were stretched out across the countryside, they would be sparse. The two dozen approaching their position might be all that there were.

“Let’s move,” she said. “Once morning comes, we’ll have a better idea of what’s around us.”

Thurgakhr picked up one of the cubs and they set off into the night. Though it felt like she had just laid down to rest, the skies were already beginning to lighten. She looked to the mountains silhouetted in the east.

“Did you come up with some idea?” Karagh asked.

“Hm?”

“It sounded like you wanted to do something once you could see what was around us.”

“I was just thinking,” Thurgakr replied. “If we could get behind them, we could just head east to the mountains. At this rate, they’ll be chasing us for weeks.”

“We aren’t just escorting these Urmah,” Karagh told her, “we were sent to warn everyone else. Besides, these people are just as likely to be killed if they head east into the mountains.”

That wasn’t true for nar Ki’ra, but it was for urmah Kisher. Migrants that returned to their old territories were treated as invaders. They effectively were, as their intrusion also meant they would be consuming resources that the locals depended on.

“I would think we’ve passed beyond the point where that sort of response is warranted,” Thurgakr said. “The Undead threaten all.”

“They do,” Karagh admitted, “but I can imagine the fury of those clans when they see the Undead coming in on our tails. Never mind urmah Kisher, they’d kill us for that.”

She flicked her ears in vexation. As Karagh said, they were just as likely to be blamed for bringing the Undead into a tribe’s territory as thanked for their warning. The competitive nature of the clans made cooperation and sometimes even communication difficult. Tribe and clan came before everything else, and all were aggressively protective of their territory.

It was a feat in itself for them to come together as a country at all. That it was a country of many different races of Beastman made it all the more wondrous. A long history of blood drenched the mountain jungles and it required the work of countless visionaries to forge the laws and traditions that made stability as a nation possible.

Those laws and traditions only worked to an extent, however. They would certainly not hold back a clan enraged by a grievous incident. As a result, conflict between clans and even alliances of clans were not uncommon.

And here we thought we’d be able to get away from all of that for once.

Nar Ki’ra thought they would be fighting Humans. Even fighting the Undead was fine…at least until it turned out to be an Undead horde of legendary proportions.

The field of stars was slowly washed away by the dawn and Thurgakr started to get a better sense of what was going on. Groups of Undead – anywhere from a few dozen to over a hundred – were moving around in the distance. It was astonishing that they hadn’t blindly run into any during their renewed flight.

“So it turns out we’re already in the middle of the Undead horde,” she grumbled.

“We can’t hunt like this!” Karagh complained, “From which dark god did this sick scenario spring forth?”

“Maybe we’ll find a farm animal fleeing from the Undead as well?” Thurgakr offered, “We were about two days from the river; now it’s probably three since we have to get around all these new obstacles…”

“Doesn’t this mean that the Undead will cross the river before we do?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then go,” Karagh told her. “You’re the strongest amongst us. If it’s just you, you’ll be able to cross the river by the end of the day. You don’t even have to worry about us: strangely enough, it’s safer now that we have some sense of the behaviour of these Undead. All we have to do is avoid these settlements that they’re being attracted to.”

Thurgakr slowed to a stop, removing some of the pouches on her belt.

“Take these,” she said. “Emergency rations, plus a few water flasks.”

“What about you?” Karagh asked.

“I still have trade coins and another flask. Some potions, too. There should be plenty of opportunities to resupply once I get across the river.”

Karagh nodded, distributing her pouches between the other warriors.

“Hopefully the next Clanlord won’t be as foolish as il-Enhorshr,” he said. “I guess we’ll next see you back at home…may the Lord of Storms and Lady of the Waters favour your journey.”

“So, did you get anything interesting out of that Magician Guild?”

“Eh…I’m not sure if it’s interesting, exactly, but they do have some stuff I’ve never seen before here.”

After tucking in her apprentices for the night – she wasn’t sure if they were already too old for that, but she did it anyway – Ludmila disembarked from Ruin’s Wake to see how things were going in the city. She found Captain Iškur and Miss Marchand packing away their makeshift Merchant stand. Skeleton Warriors went back and forth, organising cargo on the pier. A sign had been placed facing the wharf. Upon the sign was a warning written in several different languages:

Access restricted, violators will be reanimated.