Return of the Damned

5

Regdar hissed as he lifted his chestplate from his shoulders. He let it fall to the dirt with a loud crash. His tattered and torn undershirt was stained crimson in a long oval from his shoulder to his belly and all down his torso. He lifted the ruined garment gingerly from his body and tossed it into the slowly growing fire Whitman tended.

Regdar examined himself. Along his left side, three large puncture wounds weeped a clear, yellow liquid, dotted with flecks of dark red. Jagged pink stretch marks ran across his body from his ribs, past his belly button, and down onto his right hip. He poked at them with his finger and drew in air between gritted teeth. The scratches burned. The pain wasn't as bad as when the troll made them, but they burned nonetheless.

Sitting down on a mossy stump, Regdar doffed the rest of his armor. His right thigh had a huge bruise from hip to knee, but it was otherwise intact. The fighter sighed. He was glad most of the injuries were superficial. Bruises hurt but would heal, and he could fight without too much trouble. His ribs, however, were a different story.

"Let me look at that." Krunk pointed at the holes in Regdar's side with his stubby fingers.

"Be my guest." With considerable effort, Regdar lifted his arm and twisted to his right.

"Hmm." Krunk scratched at his long, white beard.

"How is it?"

The hair on the front of the dwarf's face moved. Regdar assumed Krunk was either smiling or cringing.

"Well, it's not diseased," replied the dwarf.

Tasca coughed out a laugh from the other side of the fire. "That the best you could come up with? Your words inspire confidence in us all."

Whitman elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up, elf."

Krunk's moustache moved again. "I think I can patch you up good as new," he said. Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out a finely crafted cross with the symbol of the sun emblazoned on it. The cross was made from what looked in the flickering firelight like silver or platinum, and the reaching bands of the holy sun were obviously gold.

Wrapping the thick fingers of one hand around the religious artifact, Krunk placed his other palm on Regdar's chest above the weeping wounds. The dwarf closed his eyes and recited a prayer under his breath.

Regdar felt Krunk's fingers tighten on his skin, then the familiar, healing warmth flowed into his frame. He leaned his head back and rolled his eyes deeper into their sockets. He loved this sensation. It was almost worth getting hurt just to be healed again.

Lost in the warm rehef provided by Krunk's spell, Regdar flinched when something touched his leg. Lifting his head, he looked down to see the dwarf cleric preparing to heal the bruise there.

"You should try to not get hurt so much." Krunk pushed on the soft, purple tissue on the big fighter's leg.

Regdar squirmed and gritted his teeth. The euphoria from the previous healing spell was all but gone.

"One of these days," Krunk continued, "I might not be around to fix you up, and then where will you be?" He pressed his palm again into the fighter's flesh and mouthed a few short words.

Regdar felt the healing warmth again, though much weaker. He moved his left arm and squeezed his thigh. Both felt better.

"Thanks, Krunk," he said, standing up from the stump and walking to his pack. "I owe you one."

The old dwarf stomped to the fire and sat next to Clemf. "Don't start counting now," he said. "You never have before, and you'll never be rich enough to pay your debts anyway."

They all laughed.

Regdar drew a new shirt over his shoulders. "You're probably right about that." Then he, too, sat by the fire.

Tasca and Clemf held long, carved tree branches over the fire. On the end of them, each man had a row of punctured mushrooms roasting above the flames.

Whitman pulled a package wrapped in a handkerchief from his pack and returned to the fire. He lifted the cloth and began tearing off large hunks of bread and handing them around. Tasca pulled his mushrooms from the flames and pointed the stick at Regdar, who used his hunk of bread to pull a bubbling fungus from the branch.

"Thanks," he said, putting the impromptu sandwich to his hps and blowing on the hot meal.

Whitman did the same. "So," he said between cooling breaths, "you really think we'll be able to find this woman?"

Regdar looked up over his mushroom. "I wouldn't have asked you to come here if I didn't."

"How did you lose her in the first place?" asked Tasca.

Whitman elbowed Tasca again.

Regdar raised his hand. "It's all right, Whitman. Telling you the story is the least I can do."

The other men looked up, and Regdar began.

"Have any of you ever heard of the City of Fire?"

"The mythical City of Fire?" asked Krunk.

Regdar nodded. "I thought it mythical too until I walked its streets."

Whitman scratched his beard. "So it really exists?"

"Well, it did." Regdar sighed. "I and my companions sent it back to the planes." Regdar stopped for a minute, rubbed his face, and swallowed away the tightness in his throat. "We were fighting a crazed blackguard who wanted a powerful artifact from inside the city. She almost got it, too, but Naull managed to trap her inside a magic bubble." He looked up into the night sky. "It worked great, except that Naull was trapped inside the sphere as well. To keep the artifact out of the hands of evil, we sent the city back through its planar gate." He paused. "Naull was still trapped inside."

Everyone sat silent, not even chewing their food.

Clemf was the first to break the silence. "You watched her go?"

Regdar closed his eyes and nodded.

"And you assumed she was dead," added Tasca.

Regdar shrugged. "The city went to the Elemental Plane of Fire. Once her spell ended, there was no way she could survive there."

"And this cleric friend of yours, Jozan," said Whitman, "he had proof that she's still alive."

Regdar nodded. "Proof enough to persuade him. I know what you're all thinking, but if there's even a chance that she didn't die in that fire, then I have to find out for myself." He looked at them all in turn. "Like I said back in the barrack, this is a volunteer mission. You're under no obligation to stay."

There was a moment of silence, cut only by the sound of the crackling flames.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you," said Tasca, "but I was sold when he told me we were going to rescue a kidnapped woman from a band of slavers." The elf pulled another mushroom off his branch. "I have a terrible weakness for damsels in distress."

Whitman glared at the elf. "We're with you, Regdar."

The others nodded.

Regdar smiled. "I know. I know."

Krunk was awakened by Tasca when the moon was high overhead.

"Your turn," said the elf before he climbed into his bedroll.

Krunk rolled to his feet and wiped the sleep from his eyes. The others were fast asleep.

The fire burned low in the pit Whitman had made. Tasca had been smart to keep it small. There was no point in attracting more attention than necessary.

Picking up his mace, Krunk walked around the fire. A small pile of branches rested nearby. Krunk smiled. Despite what Whitman said about him, Tasca was an upstanding fellow.

Krunk sat for a while, poking at the fire with a long stick, throwing another branch on when the flames grew too weak.

The night passed slowly, stars moving imperceptibly across the sky. The dwarf became sleepy again. Shaking his head, Krunk got to his feet and went to collect more wood for the fire.

Before trudging to the riverbank, the cleric hung his mace from his belt. It was mid-summer, and the waters of the River Delnir were low. Spring runoff had deposited plenty of firewood high on the banks, and Krunk quickly made a heaping pile to carry back.

"That should last till morning," he said as he bent down to pick up the wood.

Something that felt like two huge rocks hit him on the back. His face crashed into the pile of branches, and he was pinned to the ground. The air was driven from his lungs.

Krunk twisted as hard as he could to right and left, but he was stuck. Whatever was on top of him was either larger or stronger than he, or both. He heard a crackle and a pop, like a bone being separated from its joint. A burst of warm, damp air rushed across the back of his neck, setting all the tiny hairs on end.

The dwarf cleric could hear his heart beat in his ears. His thoughts raced. The smell of rotting flesh reached his nose, and a sharp pain ran down his spine. In a flash he understood.

Vampire.

Regdar awoke with a start, his hand instinctively wrapped around his greatsword. He shook his head and sat up. The others were sleeping, and the fire had all but gone out. A smoking pile of dull, red embers was all that remained.

"Krunk," he said in a loud whisper.

Only the sound of the running river, several paces away, answered back.

"Krunk," he said again, a little louder this time.

In the low glow of the embers, Regdar could see Whitman sit up straight, clutching his hammer to his chest.

Regdar got to his feet and crossed to the dwarf. Without a word, Whitman reached over and shook Tasca awake, laying his finger across his hps, signaling silence. The elf got the hint and lifted himself from his sleeping roll while retrieving his rapier.

Regdar turned to wake Clemf.

A heavy, wooden club swung through the air, just missing his head. The big fighter stumbled back and let out a shout, surprised by the attack. In front of him, hunched over the sleeping form of Clemf, stood a ghastly black and green monstrosity.

The creature's body was covered in rippled scales, and the back of its neck sported something like a fish's fin. Though it looked like a giant lizard with a long, winding tongue, it stood erect like a man. In one hand it held the club that had almost crushed Regdar's head. In the other it carried a large shield.

At first, Regdar thought the creature's eyes were reflecting the dull glow of the fire. Then he realized they were burning a fiery red all their own. The monster, whatever it was, opened its mouth and let out a whooshing hiss. Its teeth were long and jagged, but what impressed Regdar the most were the fangs that protruded from the thing's upper and lower jaws. Four in all, and each looked as long and sharp as Tasca's rapier.

Clemf, still curled under his blanket, rolled over and continued sleeping while the monster crouched above him.

Circling to one side, Regdar moved away from the fire, trying his best to get behind the thing. His ploy worked, because the creature spun and moved away from Clemf.

"That's a good little lizard vampire thing," said Regdar, wishing he had gone to sleep in his armor. "Come and get it."

As if responding to the big fighter's taunt, the lizard creature leaped at him. It moved with surprising speed and grace, its tail slithering along the ground behind it. Regdar dodged back, fighting defensively, keeping anything he might not want bitten off as far away from the creature's mouth as possible.

The greatclub swiped in at waist level. Regdar bashed it away. A claw slashed out of nowhere from the other side. Regdar sidestepped it. Teeth snapped shut before his face, moonlight glinting from the long, sharp fangs. Regdar almost gagged on the foul stench of rotting flesh. He stumbled back again.

The creature paced forward, letting out another hiss.

"Foul beast," hollered Whitman. His hammer was poised for a blow.

The lizard creature reacted quickly and swung its tail at the stout dwarf. Whitman tried to jump clear, but the scaly appendage hit him in the feet. He tumbled across the ground and down the river embankment.

Regdar lunged forward, taking advantage of the distraction. His blade caught the creature below the jaw, opening a wound along its neck. Black ooze dribbled out, and the beast's attention returned to the human fighter. It waggled its long, gray tongue, slopping foul-smelling liquid all over the ground and on Regdar's sword.

The creature hissed, then spun around in time to catch Tasca's rapier on its shield. The blade made a hollow thump as it hit, and the tip stuck in the soft material. Leaping into the air, the elf kicked out with both feet against the lizard thing's shield, one on each side of his lodged sword. The impact forced the creature back a step, and Tasca fell to the ground, his sword once again in his hand.

Regdar stepped in again, taking a mighty swing at the vampire's tail. He connected with a crash. A heavy scale broke into bits and scattered in the moonlight. Regdar was rewarded with a heavy thump to the chest as the tail flicked back. It knocked the wind from his lungs and the man from his feet.

Landing hard on his back, Regdar tried to inhale. He couldn't. It was as if the air around him had been sucked away. Time slowed down, and everything he did, even blinking his eyes, felt labored and difficult. He stared up into the dark sky. The moon seemed so big among the tiny stars. His head felt like a watermelon, and the skin on his face felt hot and red.

Then something moved into his field of view, something larger even than the moon. Clutching his sword in his right hand, the big fighter looked up into the gaping maw of the vampire lizard. Its red eyes burned as they looked down on him. It growled, a sound that filled the surrounding space, drowning out all other noise-the wind, the crickets, even the rushing river.

The monster leaned forward to glare down at him, and a gob of thick, black liquid splashed across Regdar's face. The lizard creature flew out of his view, and a huge forearm emblazoned with the image of a longsword came in, followed immediately by Clemf's tightly gritted face. Then it too disappeared.

Regdar gasped again, this time with limited success. Sound returned to his ears. He heard the burbling river and the sucking noise of Clemf's sword plunging into monster's flesh. Rolling to his side, the fighter struggled to his feet.

Tasca and Clemf battled the monster from either side. The elf teased scales from its body with his dancing blade. The enormous human bashed large chunks of flesh from its hide. Somehow the creature had lost or discarded its club and shield. Spinning first one way, then back, the vampire swiped with its claws. It hissed at both men but was unable to focus on one without opening itself to a deadly assault from the other.

The standoff was broken when a hurtling, twisting mass of dwarf and hammer flew over the riverbank and plunged on top of the vampiric lizard.

Whitman's hammer crashed into the monster's reptilian head, making a hollow sound like a mallet on a coconut. The creature's skull ruptured. Chunks of yellow curd shot out in a wave. The resulting splash covered the head of the dwarf's weapon with dripping ooze.

The vampire collapsed to the ground.

"Agh!" shouted Whitman as he landed. "Brain juice! Vampire lizardman brain juice on my hammer."

Regdar opened his mouth, then shut it again. He was sure there was something worse in this world to get on your hammer, but he couldn't think of it at the moment.

Tasca and Clemf stepped back from the slumped monster, looking quickly in all directions to be sure the area was clear. Regdar checked to the riverbank.

"Anybody see Krunk?" he asked.

"No," said Whitman, now on his knees feverishly rubbing dirt on his hammer.

"No," replied Clemf.

"Over there!" Tasca broke into a run, pointing at something with his sword.

Regdar and Clemf followed.

Just at the edge of the embankment, where the plain sloped down toward the River Delnir, lay Krunk. He was facedown and spread-eagle atop a pile of branches.

Regdar crouched beside him. Blood covered most of the back of his head, neck, and shoulders, brimming from a savage wound where the monster had bitten nearly through his neck. His arms and most of his face were scratched and cut.

"He put up a fight," said Regdar.

"Wouldn't you?" asked Tasca.

Regdar shrugged, feeling a bit stupid.

Clemf kicked the dirt. "It had to be the cleric," he said.

Tasca looked up, shaking his head. "What are you talking about? It could have been any of us."

Clemf stowed his sword and raised his hands in the air. "Yeah, it could have, but it was the cleric."

Tasca slumped as he realized what Clemf meant.

"There's only one thing we can do," Regdar said.

He stood. Lifting his sword over his head, he brought it down with a heavy grunt. The blade sliced through the bloody remains of Krunk's neck, and the dwarf's head rolled free.

Tasca jumped back. "Are you mad?" he screamed. "He was our friend."

Clemf, too, looked uneasy.

Regdar grabbed the dismembered head by the beard. "He was, but he wouldn't be when he rose from the dead. Help me with his body," he said.

The others looked on, horrified.

Regdar stood up and looked at the elf and the human, Krunk's head still dangling from his hand.

"He was bitten by a vampire," he explained. "If we simply bury him, he'll come back as a vampire." He looked the other two men in the eyes. "Something tells me a holy man such as Krunk here-" he lifted the upside-down head, its eyes peering out lifelessly at the others-"would rather not return to the world as an undead monster." He turned and headed down the embankment. "Now, if you really were Krunk's friends, you'll help me bury him in the river, so he can ascend in the afterlife, or whatever it is dwarves do when they die."