The Magehound

The jordain carefully slid the sword between the boot and the bony palm, digging the blade in as deep into the swamp bed as he could. He braced one foot against Wolther's leg and began to pry the bony fingers away. The task was distressing like pulling nails from a wooden plank, but in a few moments the skeletal hand was out. Bony fingers wrapped around the sword and began to inch their way toward the hilt. Andris whipped the sword forward and sent the hand spinning toward the fern-choked banks.

He turned to Wolther and noted with relief that no blood gushed forth and that the injured leg could still support the man's weight. None of the major veins or sinews had been breached. Wolther might always walk with a limp, but if the wound didn't turn septic, he would survive.

By the time he was finished with Wolther, his men had finished dismembering the undead wizards. Andris glanced up at the sun and was surprised to note that only a short time had passed.

"Let's keep moving," he said softly. "This promises to be a very long day."

The ground underfoot grew firmer, and the terrain began to slope gently upward. Soon they were walking on dry ground. Andris knew from his studies that in times long past, this had been a rain forest set on gently rolling hills. It was said that a trio of wizards had diverted a river just to see if it could be done. As it happened, it could, and the result was the Kilmaruu Swamp. But this deed had left a city stranded, and its furious citizens determined to reclaim their drowned lands.

The land dipped suddenly, forming what appeared to be the ruins of an ancient moat. Fortunately an ancient tree had fallen over the water, providing a natural bridge. Clumps of ferns and colorful twisted fungi grew in the rotting wood, but it looked sound enough to hold their weight

"Prepare the saltpowder," Andris said softly. Each man quickly took two objects from his packs: a weapon that resembled a tiny catapult mounted on a crossbow and a small bottle filled with what appeared to be finely ground greenish crystals. They cranked back the mechanism on the bow and then poured the saltpowder into the tiny shot buckets on the catapults. Once the strange weapons had been readied, the men resumed walking, their weapons held level and their fingers lightly worrying the triggers.

The log was broad enough for them to cross in pairs. Andris looped Wolther's arm across his shoulder to help him across. They moved quickly, and the log held firm. The jordain nodded to Iago, holding up six fingers to indicate that they should cross in small groups rather than all at once. All went well until the last group began passage.

The assault came suddenly as scores of creatures burst from the stagnant waters. Hideous forms, as pale as beached fish and bloated to thrice their living size, reached out with swollen hands. Incredible stench rolled off the creatures in waves, several of the fighters bent over, retching. Those who could still stand took aim. The air was suddenly filled with the snaps and whumping sounds of the miniature catapults and the sparkling flight of the strange ammunition.

The saltpowder crystals pelted the drowned creatures. Fetid steam rose from the bloated forms as the minerals seared through cheesy flesh and warred with the trapped gases beneath.

"Down!" commanded Andris. He dropped flat and threw his arms over his head.

The explosion shook the ground and sent unspeakable goo splattering over the warriors. The log shuddered and shifted, creaking as it threatened to fall into the water. Andris rose and began shouting and gesturing to the men who lay flat on the log. They struggled to their feet and hurried across.

Suddenly two enormous, skeletal forepaws slammed down on the log bridge. The massive knuckles flexed and water surged as an enormous skull broke free. Nimble as a gigantic squirrel, the undead monstrosity clambered onto the bridge.

Never had Andris seen such a creature, alive or dead. A pair of long pointed horns thrust forward out of its ridged skull, and a beaklike maw was filled with teeth that resembled those of a titanic vampire. Incisors the length and sheen of daggers flashed as the creature darted at the last man on the bridge.

The man turned, alerted by his comrades' screams, just as the massive jaws clamped down on him. As horrid as it was to see a comrade disappear into a monster's maw, it was more terrible still to see the rent pieces fall through the skeleton form to stain the log bridge and the water below.

Horror gripped the men, lending frantic speed as they ripped through the foliage and up the hill. In perhaps an hour, they stood panting at the crumbling, vine-colored gates of the city itself.