Chapter 52: Well At Least the Siege Will be Over Soon
Erastus 3
A wave of hands and teeth crashed into the ship. Only my darkvision, born from centuries underground, was strong enough to reveal precisely how fucked we were. In the eternal moment before my turn, I could see the two packs of ghouls frozen mid stride as they rushed down the shore towards us. Four skeletons waved their arms ten feet ahead of the pack.
They’re meant to draw fire. If these twitchy bastards shoot the first thing they see coming out of the black, they’ll be wasting their only shot on a skeleton. The ghouls will be climbing the side of the ship by the time they reload.
Perhaps irrationally, I wished that we hadn’t used all the alchemist fire on a preemptive strike. I wondered if this would have been the perfect time to use those magical grenades. I wished that we had Syl here, or that she’d been able to convince Aaron Ivey to come along with his supply of bane-undead bolts. I wished for a lot of things. In retrospect, it’s strange that I didn’t wish to be back home, away from all this pirate bullshit. Not for a second, not when my friends and enemies both needed me here.
“Fall back to the poop deck and seal the doors!” I roared, “We’ve got a big one!”
We can’t hold the whole deck. There’s just too much surface area to cover if we can’t use it to fire volleys. We need choke points. Most of the men will be more useful holding a door than holding the line.
The crew rushed to obey. Not because they agreed with my assessment, but because my orders were natural to follow at this point. Plugg gave me a hard look before rushing to his position near the stern, leaving a crab to die in his place.
Yael wreathed one skeleton in flames as a parting shot, lighting it up like a beacon for the crew. The illusory flames provided strangely inconsistent illumination, like smudged watercolors. The skeletons went down as the men unloaded their crossbows in a fighting retreat, just as Elmer Blackteeth had planned. They’d be replaced in moments.
The barricades at the foot of the ship gave us a few precious seconds where the ghouls were in range of the lanterns, scrambling over the short wall. Yael released a burst of cold, freezing one poor ghoul solid as she did and sending four more sprawling from the semi-real ice slick. Sosima used the grindylows whale skull to slow the front lines on the starboard side, making a strange wall of slow motion ghouls. Together, that side of the ship was given another precious round of safety.
The few people on the crew with any trigger discipline to their names took their shots in that golden moment. Rowe released a spray of bullets from her goblin shotgun, shredding a dozen of the ghouls with a hail of burning pellets on the port side of the ship. Plugg’s flame and my frost each finished off one of the injured ghouls, and several crossbow bolts found their marks in the scrambling pack of undead.
The ghouls recoiled, but only for a moment. I felt a sickening, oily wind blow across the battlefield and the ghouls straightened up. Their wounds closed, sealed with cancerous masses of flesh that jutted out of emaciated bodies. The newly healed ghouls jumped right back onto the side of the ship.
They have a healer. Fuck that.
On my turn I swept my gaze across the mass of ghouls, searching for any sign of which one might be a cleric. I couldn’t see it, so I let Autopilot use his move action to search. One ghoul among the masses held a wand made of driftwood. Given that ghouls rarely held onto anything that won’t help them hunt more effectively, it was likely either itself magical or a focus of some kind. My eyes flashed violet as I infused the ghoul with magical light, making him stand out like a beacon at the back of the mass of corpses.
“That one’s a healer!” I called. “Get him!”
The bastard was standing outside of my Frost Blast’s range. He looked up at me and smiled, revealing a mouth full of cracked, blackened teeth. He turned tail and fled, pursued by my air elemental. As he ran for the treeline, he continued to pulse negative energy, healing through the bolts that managed to strike him. We couldn’t afford to give him more attention than that, not with fifty ghouls climbing our ramparts.
Yael earned her pay by erecting a wall of shadowy clouds across the deck. If a ghoul wanted to get below deck or climb the stairs to the buffet on the poop deck, they needed to pass straight through a dark pillar crackling with electricity. Only one in five of the ghouls who tried to pass through were reduced to charred corpses. Many were able to dodge the bolts, others were only lightly singed. Still others ignored the lightning entirely, and came out no worse for wear. Very few died instantly, but only about twenty of the ghouls were willing to take those odds.
For a few confused moments, the tightly packed ghouls were like fish in a barrel. More than a dozen of them fell to our superior firepower, and several slipped off the sides of the ship. Unfortunately, the remnants were still as large a group as we faced on my first night back.
The front lines held, though I noticed that the attacking ghouls were acting oddly. Once they cleared the clouds they lunged forward, jaws snapping, instead of reaching out with their paralytic claws. It was a terrible plan; the paralysis was practically an instant win for them when it worked. Worse, the ones that had hopped over the sides of the ship had not slinked off. Instead they crawled along the side of the ship, hopping over the railing on the poop deck. Most of the men had been too focused on butchering the ones milling around the mast to even notice we’d been flanked. Plugg had, and was in the process of turning his head to shout.
“Watch the sides!” I ordered at the exact moment Plugg barked “swords on the flanks!”
We both punctuated our orders with blasts of magic, knocking two undead assailants off the railing. Unfortunately, they crew were still caught off guard. The ghouls bit deep into our backline, downing six men who hadn’t even dropped their crossbows yet. One dove for me in particular.
The ghoul’s dirty, gore caked nails raked through my formal jacket. It tore strips of flesh from my chest, which it gleefully shoved into its mouth in the same movement. I flailed at the creature with my belt knife, skipping the planning phase of my turn without realizing it. Thankfully, Autopilot understood what I wanted. My off hand jabbed forward, trailing flash frozen vapor, and struck the ghoul’s center mass. A pulse of cold flooded the creature’s body as I shoved it back, where its body shattered on the deck. (Frost Touch 20+4=critical hit. 8x2=16 cold damage)
It was a short lived, suicidal ploy on the ghouls’ part. Plugg and Yael each drew blades and dropped their own assailants without much difficulty. The men were surprised, but the ghouls didn’t make proper use of that. They spread their attacks out rather than focusing any given man down, perhaps hoping to paralyze them all. Cog, Sosima, Scourge, and Caulky buckled under the added pressure for a few moments, but they didn’t break. Sandara had everyone topped off only seconds after blasting away the ghouls with positive energy. Indeed, most of the men who had been paralyzed were able to stagger to their feet and shoot a few more crossbow bolts.
We were all exhausted when the last ghoul fell, but we were in surprisingly good shape. Suspiciously so. (Sense motive 16+2=18)
That’s all you’re giving me?
It’s all I’ve got. There’s something off here. Blackteeth was clever today. What was his plan?
I looked around as the men cheered and passed the waterskins, before looking down at my own chest. There were faint lines where the ghoul had clawed me with its bloody talons.
I was the first person it attacked on the ship. Where did the blood come from?
I looked at each of the downed ghouls, and confirmed that each and every one of them had dark gore all over their hands. Fresh red blood was actually in the minority.
Shit. Autopilot, is ghoul fever transmissible through infected blood?
Probably? It spreads mostly through saliva entering the bloodstream but I think blood contact would do it. (Heal 13+1=14)
I looked around at the twenty men on the poop deck, almost all of which had been exposed to ghoul fever. I felt a faint pop as the air elemental I’d sent to hunt down Blackteeth was destroyed. Most likely, the necromancer still lived.
“Fuck.”
••••••••••
Plugg paced the dining hall at dawn, his face a thundercloud.
“All that and us without a proper ship surgeon.” He grumbled. “Why? Why would this Blackteeth creature spend his soldiers' lives so frivolously? We are hardly undone by this alone.”
“He’s a ghoul, mate.” Scourge said, wiping off his forehead. “They don’t need reasons.”
“I assure you, one’s like him do.” Sosima corrected him. “Its best not to think of those ghouls as Blackteeth’s pack. He doesn’t have a pack. He takes control of pack leaders and uses them like pawns; the rank and file obey, as they are accustomed to doing, without realizing their leader has been subverted.”
“He doesn’t care because he can always pick up a new crew?” Caulky asked, lips pursed with disgust, “So he’s happy to throw them all away just so he can get us all sick?”
“Yep. Seems like it.” I said. “On a positive note, after last night we’ve killed around a third of the ghouls on the island and they’ve killed only a quarter of the crew. We might actually have the upper hand in the numbers game.”
Caulky’s eyes bulged as she stared at me aghast, but no one else in the room was particularly upset by the thought. Plugg rolled his eyes.
“We are hardly about to test that theory, now are we?” He drawled. “Lady Aulamaxa, how long is it likely to take for this creature to recruit a comparable force to last night from the native population?“
“Perhaps two days.” She said. “Less if he can con a few pack leaders without magically compelling them.”
“More than long enough for the fever to incubate.” Plugg noted. “Delightful.”
“We can’t be here in two days.” I said. “It’ll be a bloodbath if we are. Even if the crew isn’t delirious, they won’t be able to fight half as well while sick.”
“Do you have a plan, Mr. M’Dair.” Plugg asked. “Perhaps you could innovate and share it with us?”
“Not really.” I admitted. “But we could always step up production on the ones I started yesterday.”
••••••••••
Me summoning outsiders was rapidly becoming the preferred form of entertainment on the ship. I hadn’t actually used many spells fighting off the ghouls; when I already had a front line available, frost blast was more than sufficient for most turns. Like the best healing item in a video game, I’d been unwilling to waste a spell slot on anything but the perfect moment when I could just as easily shoot an ice beam. As such, I had 5 spell slots to spare at dawn.
I’d sent Seovi off to inform Syl of our situation and bring back more intel, but I didn’t feel like we could afford an interpreter cat in our line up. Given how massive a leap in power level Yael had been, I wanted a full team of level 4 outsiders before dusk.
The first new friend of the day had been suggested by Cog, actually. A low end servant of his goddess that was tailor made for exactly this kind of situation. Esoboks were specialized undead hunters who delighted in tracking down and consuming the flesh and bones of zombies, ghouls, and skeletons. They were notoriously aggressive and got bored easily, so I’d probably avoid using them in most situations, but the biggest problem I had was one they’d be delighted to solve.
The Esobok was a stocky creature shaped vaguely like a big black bulldog, if a bulldog was 4 feet tall at the shoulder. Its tail had a small tuft of hair like a lion’s, and it had a ruff of black feathers resembling a mane. Of course, the fact that it had some kind of bleached white dinosaur skull for a head threw a wrench in any kind of taxonomic identification.
https://www.patreon.com/posts/esobok-106501190
“Obliterate my enemies, those of unlife whose blood no longer flows.” I explained in Abyssal, as calmly and politely as I could. “Feast upon their flesh and revel in the slaughter. Drag their souls to your den so that they might not trouble me further. There is one known as Blackteeth who has particularly earned my ire, and that of your goddess. He is a necromancer, who vexes my slaves and my oppressors both, and it would make me desire to spare you if you brought him ruin.”
The Esobok shuffled its feet with excitement, eager to begin its hunt. Perhaps due to its lack of lips, it couldn’t speak. I felt the connection form as it agreed with my deal and it bounded off the ship like a dog after a ball.
“Well, let’s see how they like being hunted, eh?” I called out, “I don’t think that it’s going to take them all down, but hopefully it can thin them out a bit.”
A bit optimistic, maybe, but these guys need to see me working. As long as I’m performing miracles, I’m their guy. If we are lucky, this is kicking the beehive. It won’t feel like it, but another weak, disorganized attack during the day might be just what the doctor ordered. At minimum, it might serve as a distraction.
I blessed Cog, Rowe, and myself with Keep Watch. Sosima had batted her eyelashes at Plugg, which secured her a spot in his bed for as long as she wanted, without needing to actually share it. Sandara hadn’t bothered with any of that, and just went back to the corner of the infirmary with a bottle of cheap wine she’d snagged from somewhere. With any luck, we would all be level 4 by dusk. Having done that, I went to sit on the bow of the ship with Yael. I didn’t even make it halfway.
Rowe has lost condition: Keep Watch.
“Damn it Rowe!” I groaned, “I told you not to do anything strenuous or magical.”
“I’m not!” She yelled back at me, “just making ammo! We need more quarrels after ghouls steal them.”
She gestured at a large wooden crate, which was vibrating like a washing machine.
“You’re making new crossbow bolts with that box?” I asked, “how?”
Dumb question. Magic. That’s why it disrupted Keep Watch.
“It’s an ammo spitter. New design.” Rowe explained, “usually make bullets, but I’m being nice and sharing since crew too stupid to bring enough for themselves.”
“Rowe, we’ve used over 500 bolts in the last couple days.” I said with a sigh. “This was a merchant ship. No one was expecting a protracted siege battle. We’re lucky that Harrigan passed out surplus crossbows like candy on the old ship.”
Rowe cocked her head.
“But crossbows make terrible candy.” She said thoughtfully. “No wonder nobody ate them.”
I stared at her, mouth slightly open. She laughed at my face, falling onto her ass.
“You thought that real?” She wheezed. “Longshanks always so silly. Goblins not dumb.”
Next to her, the crate stopped vibrating and released a jet of steam directly upward. The top popped open, revealing dozens of crossbow bolts made from cloudy gray glass. Rowe pulled one out to examine. She deemed it acceptable, and proceeded to scurry from man to man on deck with the gift of ammunition.
••••••••••
Seovi returned to the ship with a mile long list of advice about how to treat ghoul fever, most of which the poor talking cat couldn’t keep straight in her head. Profuse sweating, unsteady hands, a waxy complexion, and hair loss were all things to keep an eye out for. While nobody wanted to hear it, by the time a subject started to go bald they were usually too far gone to save. The only real treatment we had available, other than Sandara’s magic, was to give the afflicted salty food, keep them hydrated, and let them rest.
Given that Sandara’s spells were in short supply and high demand, salt and water were the best we could do. Rest was a sensitive topic, because many of the men were already exhausted and would happily fake illness if it meant a chance to sleep for more than a few hours.
Damn it, Plugg. You should have started the sleeping shifts immediately, not tried to power through the whole crisis. The only good thing I can say about you is that you stayed up too.
Cog and Sosima both leveled up as they rested. Both were a bit stronger and a bit better at hitting people. Cog got better at dodging opportunity attacks when moving, which would probably come in handy. Generally useful but not earth shattering.
Sosima was a bit more complicated. She learned how to infuse her weapon with energy from her chosen spirit, temporarily enchanting it or enhancing existing magic. Long story short, it was a +1 to attack and damage with extra steps. She also gained the ability to boast as a standard action without a trigger, which didn’t seem excessively useful but I wasn’t going to question it.
Far more disappointing was that Sosima theoretically had the ability to bind 2nd level spirits. If Vishgurv hadn’t gotten a long term contract in return for the resurrection, she would have been able to summon a more powerful entity to make a contract with. I checked the entry for Pevwyrn Pervon, the spirit that was automatically added to her “spirits known” list. He would have granted her the ability to shoot bolts of energy, resist fire, and turn water into free potions that could provide buffs to her just as strong as Vishgurv’s thrall form.
All that and the personality influence would have given her the libido of a teenage boy. As the person she has recently gained a fetish for, I cannot adequately express how much I’d prefer her being a nymphomaniac over the pathological need to spread Vishgurv’s influence.
Once everyone was awake, I called a small meeting of my party. Caulky and Plugg were invited too, for the sake of politeness. I winked at Plugg when he fixed his baleful glare upon me.
“So, everyone.” I said, loud enough for the whole ship to hear. “I was thinking I might try something that might be reckless but potentially profitable. If it is indeed a terrible idea, I trust you’ll disabuse me of it. Deal?”
Sosima, arm in arm with Plugg, raised an eyebrow; a small smile tugged at her lips. Cog and Plugg gave me matching skeptical glares. Caulky bit her chapped lower lip, eyes shining with hope. Rowe barely reacted, as she was filling her ammo spitter with more sand.
“Alright,” Sandara said with a smirk, “out with it then. Let’s see if it’s something we can work with.”
“What do you guys say to provoking the whole damn island to attack us at once?” I asked, “Before half the crew keels over and starts hallucinating, I mean.”
••••••••••
This is my 52nd chapter of this story. When it first came out on my patreon, I released a bonus chapter in a different format. The companion piece to that chapter has now been written, and I think it makes the connection to this story a bit clearer.
Part 1