Even the burning rains couldn’t conceal the odor of death as Stak moved up the last rise before reaching the cleared ground around the city. If anything the rains added another layer of stench, one of sulfur and brimstone. As he crested the hillock the scene he pulled up, momentarily shocked at the grisly scene stretching out before him.
Bodies, hundreds of them, most long dead it looked like from their appearance lay scattered, ripped and torn on grounds around the city walls. The walls of the city beyond were breached in several places but the holes were filled and blocked with everything handy from what he could see. Wagons, push carts, crates, timbers and the rubble of the walls themselves were piled high in the breaches. The main gates lay twisted and shattered but what looked like ship timbers filled the opening. There was a sudden pop of light and sigils flared along the walls, twisting red arcane symbols floating above the walls that reminded him of the barrier wardings that Utha had cast in her lair.
The others joined him atop the hill each pausing to stare at the battlefield in silence for several moments. The bodies lay sprawled, filled with arrows, blasted and burnt by fire or other forces. They covered a wide spectrum, what were obviously farmers and peasants mixed with hobgoblins and goblins and even larger creatures as here and there a hill giant formed a large mound of dead flesh.
Most appeared to have been dead for days even weeks, at odds with the time of length the group had been out of the city, obviously foul magics were at work here and the undead army they’d feared for such a long time had materialized, only in their absence.
“What do you make of those?” Torel asked Biminey as the strange symbols flickered into visibility atop the walls of the city.
The artificer narrowed his senses, reaching out toward the city with that inner force that gave his creations life. His voice was uncertain when he finally spoke, “They’re wardings and artificer origin but they’re… odd. I get a sense of great age about them but they’re weak, weakening even, running down.”
Stak spoke up, “Those figures on the walls, they’re townies. I can see the Watch and the Anvil mercs up there along with normal folk. They’re armed but just barely, a lot of fishing spears and table legs by the look of it.”
Everyone glanced at Stak and then at the minuscule forms, little more than dots in the distance. Visra said, a little incredulously, “You can tell that?”
In answer Stak held up his left hand, the stylized eagle beak running up his forearm from the swirled red patterns across his hand.
T’Balktu grunted, “So we won.”
The avenger shrugged, “Looks like. Let’s get down there and find out what’s going on.”
The group picked their way through the corpses, the stench even worse close up and it was obvious that all the combatants had already been dead by the time they dropped on this battlefield at least. The wounds were mostly dry or oozed a black ichor rather than the vats of blood that should have been covering the ground.
A crowd gathered on the walls as they approached and Torel made sure the city standard was unfurled and visible. A small cheer went up from inside as they made their way closer.
The Captain, his left arm held in a sling next to his body along with Sargent Driskul met them atop the barricade filling the gap where the main gates had been.
Stak nodded at the upraised eyebrow of the grizzled warrior, holding up his left hand, displaying the red tattoo of the Soul Eaters. The Sergeant blinked then slowly nodded back.
“Hope we get a better reception than these got, Captain.” Biminey joked as they stopped at the base of the rubble.
“Depends on what news you have to give me. Come on, Council wants you. Sergent!”
Driskul glanced behind, “Pyotr and Jenna, get that ladder up here and over the side. The rest of you lot, get back to your gods damned posts. Move it or you’ll be defending this wall from outside!”
A long wood ladder came clattering down and quickly the group went up it and over the barricade. The scene inside was grim, the citizens mixing with Watch and Anvil mercenaries alike atop the wall. The large courtyard inside, that typically held all manner of carts and vendors was torn up, the cobblestones ripped and torn in a huge circle that encompassed easily a 30 yards across. Biminey and Visra both flinched at the magic residue lingering over the circle, magic twisted and broken in feeling.
“What happened?” Visra asked holding out a hand, feeling the energies that lay in fragments over the courtyard.
The Captain shot her a look, “Funnel cloud sprung up, ripped up the cobblestones in that circle. Priests say that let them use it as a summoning circle and creatures poured into the city. We beat’em but it cost us. It costs us a lot. Bodies are piling up in a couple of warehouses on the docks waiting burial. Same thing happened in four different spots around the city at roughly the same time, same day you left. That night, an army of undead showed up. We almost went under but then those showed up” he said jerking a thumb at the flickering wardings, “and the bodies all dropped like someone had cut their strings.”
“Where’d the wardings come from?” Biminey asked.
Captain shrugged, “Not sure on that one, Eris folk weren’t too clear, all I got out of it was they disrupt whatever powers the enemy is using to power the undead. Surprised you made it through, every time I sent a squad out to try to destroy the bodies they roused long enough to drag them down or force them to retreat.”
Torel glanced up at the standard he held in his left hand and pursed his lips in contemplation.
“We’ll go over everything at the Temple, the Eris priests say we shouldn’t talk in the open, the rain can act as an extension of the enemy they say. Temple’s supposed to be shielded from it.”
