Day 3 - Wraeclast's Fallen

(You can find the entire saga thus far (Day 1-10) by "chapter" here: http://ryukaki.com)

The great stone walls of the encampment sat behind me, and in front of me, the open beachfront. Small creatures skittered about, just as they had in the Twilight Shroud, watching and waiting for their opening to harass. The ocean had settled after the storm, and the sky had cleared, offering the warm kiss of sunlight, so rare in the past two days. It had revealed swaying wheat grass, tucked snugly against the rocky terraces that flanked my left side, and large, black stones that littered the sandy places like moles that blemished the grainy skin of some giant, sleeping face.

Corpses lay strewn about wanton, some of them likely only mimicking death in an attempt to lure curious scavengers close. The undead were still a strong presence, here, though no more so than they had been on the beaches to the opposite side of the encampment. Their groaning sounds carried far when not washed away by the rolling sound of waves buffeting the island night and day.

I began to wonder if there wasn’t a greater purpose behind these beaches crawling with undead. Wraeclast's fallen pollute the shores with their mindless corpses, each of them desolate, vacant drones that have found purchase near coves. The sand-crabs seem to use the undead, waiting for them to engage anyone unfortunate enough to pass by, and assail them while the meaty bodies serve as a distraction. There seems to be some direction, some greater puppeteer at work here, what has caused these strange phenomena, and where did the grand empire of Wraeclast go, so suddenly, leaving behind nothing but echoes and remains?


Strange, that the animated corpses carry on their hides’ armor buckled strongly to their chests, and the skittering sand crabs latching metal fragments to their feet, as though plucked from the bodies of adventurers and Exiles alike to reinforce them against their inevitable demise as I pass through. I had scavenged what was useable on my smaller female frame, an aegis of wood enchanted by means that I did not recognize. It holds fast against blows from even the largest zombies and deflects the sandy spears and pellets that the insects fire from a distance to distract, sting, and annoy.


I followed the coast as Tarkleigh had suggested, and stumbled upon the derelict hull of a large ship run ashore in some frightful storm at sea. Beneath the cawing of the seagulls circling above me, and to the tune of a pod of porpoises far out at sea, playing the games that such creatures play, removed from the burdens of the world, I began my investigation of the wreckage.

Inside the ship was dank, dark and musty, saturated with the smell of salts and death. The old wood had rotted away, the slimy walls composed more of fungi than what had been built long ago, host to small creatures that scurried about with certainty in the dimly lit enclosure. Had I not been steeled; prepared for a confrontation, I would certainly have died when something from the darkness lunged at me, old and hideous, covered in lichen and coral. Were it a zombie; one of the undead like many others on this ocean front I could not tell you, but it struck with force comparable to the Hillock, which was nearly twice this thing’s size.


My shield had been at the ready, however, and the blow was mostly absorbed. I was sent reeling backwards, out of the cabin I had entered, and into the daylight outside where I could see its contorted features and the hints of intelligence behind those haunted eyes. It groaned a threat of barbs and spit and foul curses, swiping raking claws against the bulwark of my shield as I parried his slashes and prepared myself for an opening. I darted around a corner, the cracked opening in the hull I had come in from, feet splashing loudly in the water just outside the walls of the ship. It was there I waited with my breath controlled, and when the monstrosity turned the corner, my blade shone a savage, bloody red, and the power of the stone it housed was invoked, crashing through the monster’s neck with a sickening splinter of bone and flesh. The creature fell without another sound, and its head tumbled into the tide that was beginning its ascent. I stared for a moment at my weapon, in puzzlement, and wonder.

I was surprised to discover how to call on the power of these stones; the red one pulsing with a low, satiated color now that it had done its job. It is an extension of will, and no more, that causes the power to be unleashed. Whatever had spawned these powerful jewels must have been truly terrifying; it takes but a thought, and they glow in kind, as though desiring their magic to be used

The medicine chest was not hard to find with its guardian dispatched, and the things inside were collected and stuffed into my pack, and in place of the supplies, I left the remains of my bashed and broken shield. The nightmare I had just slain had proven too much for its minor enchantments, and it was no longer of any use.


The terrain was tumultuous, scattered with debris, chests filled with old equipment or useless gold washed ashore with flotsam and jetsam. As the terraces of stone climb higher into the distance, I became want for sanctuary from both assaults; those on my worn and tired legs, and from the legion of zombie attackers relentlessly persuading me to turn around and give up my questing onwards.


When I finally came to rest against a stone outcropping, I was delighted to be touched by a cool breeze brushing its fingertips across my cheek. Far above, the dark rumbling clouds above me burst into rain that could have been my own tears of joy at reprieve from the hot sun that had baked my shoulders red. There was an opening in the terraces behind me where I had moments before been certain they stood as an impasse. The gap in the cliff wall beckoned me, and I made to progress.


-- Senophostria

Overhaul of Day 3, because revision is the key to good writing, really.

Lots changed here. Enjoy!

Sweeet! Next part!