Can Dead Men Die?

I wasn't ready for this.  One zombie taken out by a clean shot from another's bow was one thing.  Having to fight using some strange ability that I didn't know I had and not being sure if it will even work when I needed it to was another.  I could feel myself shaking.  What if when I needed that ability the most, it failed to work? Fuzzy wasn't going to be able to do it all if things got too heavy.  Only time would tell.

Then there was the sound of rattling.  As if the wind blowing a chime made of bones.  The problem: there was no wind.  Not even a small breeze.  What was causing the chimes?  Then the another added to the chorus, and another.  Slowly becoming a cacophony .  Fuzzy knocked an arrow.  Then I saw them.  Skeletons.  Animated human remains.  A chill ran down my spine.  How does one kill a skeleton?  A zombie, sure.  Destroy the brain and the body stops working but there is no brain to destroy this time.  Four rattling, walking corpses shambling toward us.  Each carried a weapon.  Two of them had swords, one had a mace and the other a staff.  Wonderful.  So not only walking piles of bones, but armored walking piles of bones.  Their eyes glowed with a pale green light.

"There is a gem in their eye sockets.  Knock those gems out and the skeleton will loose it's animating magic."   Fuzzy said.  Then he loosed an arrow and caught the skull of one of the sword carrying skeletons.  It's skull rolled off and onto the ground.  Two faintly glowing crystals dropped out of it's eyes and the body crumpled.  The gems lost their glow quickly.  I felt a little emboldened.  It was possible for dead men to die again.

A robed person stepped out behind the skeletons, followed by two others.  These must be the necromancers.  The skeletons hastened.  I readied my dagger.  Fuzzy loosed another arrow.  This one hit the other skeleton with a sword, but only knocked off a few ribs.  It didn't seem to be bothered.  Suddenly a bolt of blue light came hurdling toward me.  It hit me and I felt the most intense cold I have ever felt.  It was like a thousand daggers being stuck into me at once.  It was so cold that it burned.  I fell over from the intense pain.  After a few seconds, the intense cold went away, however some pain still remained.  I looked over at Fuzzy just as he was hit by purple bolts of energy.  He winced in pain, but still managed to loose another arrow.  This one scored one of the necromancers in the shoulder.  She screamed in pain.

Then the skeletons were upon us.  Fuzzy drew the swords he carried and attacked one of the two skeletons that were on him.  I was cracked in the rib cage by a blunt object bringing my attention back to the skeleton who had come after me.  That staff hurt!  I stabbed at it's skull with my dagger.  By some great luck (or by some help from the Furlord), I plucked out one of the gems in the eye socket.  The skeleton staggered a little.  This gave me the few seconds I needed to pluck out the other one.  Poking my dagger into the other socket, I pulled forth the other gem.  The skeleton dropped as did the emerald.  Then I felt my energy being drained.  One of the Necromancers was casting something on me.  I felt terror.  True terror.  Then I felt something start in my gut.  Words came from my mouth and my fingers pointed forward.  Fire burst forth from my hands and hit the necromancer square.  His robes caught on fire and he started to burn.  I could hear him screaming as he dropped to the ground.  One of the other Necromancers went running to his aid, but it was too late.  The stench of burnt flesh and hair filled the air.  I looked over at Fuzzy whom had taken care of the two skeletons and was focused on the female Necromancer.

He was in melee range, swinging his swords.  Then he cleaved her head clean off her shoulders.  It rolled into the charred remains of her companion.  The last necromancer took a few steps back and did a quick survey of the surroundings.  He obviously decided it wasn't worth dying here.  He turned and ran.  I was exhausted. I couldn't even stand.  Then, I passed out.

I woke to water being poured in my face.  "This is no time to sleep.  We can't stay here.  We need to get out of this village before more come.  Here, put this on."  Fuzzy handed me a robe he took off of the female.  "It won't be a perfect fit, but it's better than nothing.  And take the staff too.  That may come in handy.  You can use it to walk with for now."

I gathered myself and dusted myself off.  I put on the robe, which wasn't flattering at all.  There was a small hole in the shoulder where the arrow had pierced it and there was noticeable blood stains.  I picked up the staff and used it to support me while I attempted to walk in my weakened state.  We made our way out of the village.

We walked as far as my legs would take me.  They did eventually give out and I told Fuzzy I had to stop.  We made camp, ate and I went right to sleep.  This was becoming quite the adventure already.

Further Down The Road

The next morning arrived despite my wishes for the night to never end.  We ate and packed up camp.  Moving on into the morning's sweetness, I watched Fuzzy's back side.  The swish of his tail, back and forth, was mesmerizing.  What a magnificent creature he was.  The color of a majestic lion with the stripes of a tiger.  Not dark stripes mind you, but a dusty gold color.  His gate was silent.  Truly a hunter's stride.  His prey would never hear him coming.  I noticed that he started strutting a bit.  He must have noticed me watching and admiring him.  I admit I was a little embarrassed at being caught.

I sheepishly moved to start walking beside him.  "So it looks like it's going to be a beautiful day."  I said trying to break the silence.

"That it is," he replied.  A grin spread across his face that could only be described as mischievous.  

"So, have you had many dealings with humans in your travels?"  I asked trying to keep the conversation going.

"I cross paths with them from time to time.  Most of the ones I meet end up wearing their own blood.  Bandits will attack anyone.  You are just lucky I found you before a group of them did."  He seemed proud of himself.

"Yeah, I guess I didn't realize what I was getting myself into when I left the village to make my way to the Kingdom of the Six Cities."  I felt like such an ignorant pup.  I truly hadn't thought about the dangers.  I really was lucky that Fuzzy found me.

"Hmm, I seem to remember something about having to wear clothes in the human cities.  You should probably find something to wear before you make it there.  Humans are very modest.  Even fur isn't enough covering for them.  I don't mind seeing you in just your fur suit, but men get all uncomfortable and awkward."  Fuzzy grinned.  I was starting to think that he knew more about men than he was letting on.

"That seems so odd to me.  I can understand humans covering their furless, bald shame, but wanting us covered too?"  Then I remembered my father would sometimes put on a robe when he was going to deal with humans.  I had thought before I was ceremonial.  It appears to have been more.

"Thankfully for me, my armor covers that which men fear to see.  They seem to fear anything that brings true pleasure."  he mused.  We both went silent and I pondered that.  I got lost in thought as we walked.  The sun was getting heavy and drooping down on the horizon.  The day was moving to a close.  

Suddenly there was a foul scent in the air.  Rotten flesh.  "Oh no!" I said.  "More zombies!"

"Worse," Fuzzy responded pulling his bow off of his shoulder.  "Necromancers."

"What's a necromancer?"  I asked

"Mages who deal in death magic.  They study the forbidden arts.  They are the ones who raise zombies and animate skeletons to do their bidding.  They also have an arsenal of nasty spells that can do everything from draining one's life force to out right slaying with a word.  You may need to be ready to defend yourself."  He handed me a dagger.

"I will do my best, but I only have very basic fighting knowledge.  A pup could probably beat me in a fight."  I laughed nervously.

"You had better hope your instincts take over then."  He didn't appear to be joking.  Then a small village came into sight just as the sun set.  The pale moon hovered ominously over the large building at the edge of the square.  "Ready yourself Dusk."  Fuzzy knocked an arrow and we walked slowly down the road toward the village.  It was quiet and there was a stench of decay.

The stinking breeze attacked my olfactory senses causing my eyes to water.  I started choking on the heavy air.  Then something came over me.  I said something that even I didn't understand and thrust my arm forward.  The air cleared and it became easier to breathe.  "You're a mage?"  Fuzzy puzzled.

"Not that I was aware of."  I was even more shocked than he was at what had just happened.

"Well you just cast a spell.  When things get heavy, let yourself go.  You seem to have some innate ability there.  That will help when you need to fight."  Fuzzy trusted me more than I trusted myself.

Danger On The Road

So I set off again on my journey.  Yeah, I would hold those memories for a while.  That was quite a night.  I wondered if I would ever find myself back this way again.  Probably not.  Also, the world probably wasn't ready for the Ursos anyway.  I continued to wander down the path, although the path seemed to be fading.  It started blending in with the field I was walking into.  The Furlord most likely set it up for the path to disappear to keep people from accidentally stumbling upon his experiment.  If that was the case however, it didn't work to well as I seemed to find my way there.  Or was I meant to?  Was I lead there?  Was it all part of some strange experiment by the Furlord to see how the Ursos interact with others?  Or perhaps how others interacted with them.  Who knew.  I started to sing to myself as I walked through the filed of waist high grass.

As I walked, I realized that the only sound in the area other than a small breeze was my singing.  No birds, no bugs, no wildlife at all.  That was odd.  There is always something.  There are always birds singing, or bugs buzzing or some small animal scurrying.  I lowered my singing and listened as I walked.  I also slowed my pace.  Then I stopped both activities all together.  Something caught my eye.  Something moved the grass, but there was no sound.  It was a short distance away.  I looked hard and sniffed the air.  A foul stench grasped my nose with an overpowering punch.  It was as rotted flesh.  I knew that couldn't be good.  Then the grass moved again, only this time it was accompanied by a rustling sound.  I was frozen.  Not sure if I should run or stand.  I just sat and watched that spot.  The evil smell accosted my olfactory system.

It was getting stronger and started moving toward me.  Then it stood up out of the grass.  It was a reanimated corpse!  I tried to run but I was frozen by fear.  My muscles just wouldn't move.  I tried again and again to tell my feet to take flight.  I even tried to scream but no sound came out.  The zombie just lumbered toward me, intent on a meal.  It would get me for sure and there was nothing I could do.  Why wouldn't my legs just work!  I didn't want to be zombie chow!

Then, out of no where, there was a whizzing sound and a breeze that flew right by my ear.  The next thing I knew, there was an arrow sticking out of the zombie's head, right between it's eyes.  Then another appeared in it's chest and finally one more in the zombie's throat.  It fell over with a sicking squish-thud.  A few pieces of  putrefied flesh flew up and dropped back down like disgusting splashes of filthy water.  I felt my breakfast come back up into my throat.  I swallowed it back down, shuddering.  Finally my muscles released and I was able to turn to see my savior.

The sun shone on him, making him gleam like a god.  His look was confusing.  Beneath the leather armor and behind the bow stood a Bastog.  He was, well, tiger stock?  Lion stock?  Lion-Tiger?  Lyger?  Who cares, he was a beautiful sight.  He strung his bow over his shoulder.  All he wore on his chest was a leather harness and his legs were covered in leather armor which had seen much wear.  On his back was a quiver which was well stocked with large sheaf arrows.  He was very tall.  Much taller than myself.  I could not have asked for a more perfect specimen.

"Are you alright?"  He asked.  His voice was melodic and almost hypnotizing.

"I... I... I'm... Uh..."  I couldn't even speak.  I was tripping over every word.

"Well, other than that you seem to be physically quite well.  And if you don't mind me saying so, you look very nice, for someone who was almost zombie food.  Actually, I think you look a little tasty myself."  He grinned.

Well, if I had to be killed and eaten, why not by a really sexy Bastog?  "Well, if you must eat me, just let me prepare myself first."  I sighed.  I knew there was no way I was going to out run this one's arrows.

"By the Furlord!  I didn't mean literally!  What I meant was that I find you very cute.  I would never let anything bad happen to you."  He walked over to me.  "You can call me Fuzzy.  Everyone else does."  He extended his paw.

"I'm glad to hear that.  I wasn't really looking forward to being eaten today by anything.  I'm Dusky, and you are super sexy!  I usually don't go for Bastogs, but you are amazing."  I grabbed his paw.  He pulled me in and kissed me.  I melted.  Then suddenly that rotted flesh scent hit me again.  "Can we get away from this corpse?"  I chuckled a little.

"Yeah, let's get out of scent range at least."  He laughed.

So we wandered off in the direction I was heading.  He would occasionally pull lightly on my tail just to remind me that he was there.  My pulse would flutter every time he did that.  My heart raced with the anticipation of what was to come.  As the sun was setting, and it was getting close to time to camp, he came and walked up beside me.  "We should camp soon.  It's getting late."  Fuzzy said, giving me a look that made the butterflies in my stomach take flight.

So we set up camp, ate some dinner and then bedded down for the night.  And what a night it was.  The morning could never have come and I would have been a happy Furgar.