Necropolis

remember the day like it was yesterday. The man came stumbling into the city of Devrine, babbling incoherently. He stumbled his way to our town square, then dropped to his hands and knees.

"H-horrible!" he stammered. "Frightening beyond belief!" Then he closed his eyes, and never opened them again. One of our townspeople happened to notice his hand. It pointed due east, toward the Black Plains.

The following day, I was called to the King's throne room. The messenger said it was urgent.

"Sire," I asked, kneeling, "What can I do for you?"

"Sir Randolph," the old King said slowly, "Commander of the Knights of Devrine. I'm glad you could make it. No doubt you've heard of the events yesterday?"

"Indeed I have, Your Highness," I replied.

"So you've also heard rumors of what the man might have been pointing at, have you?"

I simply nodded.

"Randolph, I'd like you to investigate these rumors," the King said. "Travel to the Black Plains and see what it was that frightened the man so."

"But Sire," I protested, "no one's explored the Black Plains since, well, before recorded history!"

"All the more reason for you to do so," he said, leaning back in his throne.

"I understand," I replied, knowing that this was an argument I wasn't about to win. "But am I to do it alone?"

For the first time today, the King's face brightened. "Randolph, I'm glad you asked me that. I've picked you two companions for your journey. Please step forward."

The two people who stepped forward were familiar to me, but I had never actually spoken with either of them. One was the Lady Larsa. Beautiful and friendly, she was the greatest sorceress in Devrine. It was said with one wave of her wand, she could turn everyone in the city into animals.

The other was a dwarf named Grom. I'd heard that he was so good with an axe that he could level an entire forest in a matter of hours! Only rumors told by drunken patrons at the tavern, you realize.

I rushed over to my two new friends and struck up a conversation, something that came easily to me. We bantered for about an hour, and I learned much about the two adventurers. Grom was a gruff old dwarf who really didn't like social situations. Larsa was the exact opposite. She was friendly, outgoing, and even a bit too cheerful sometimes.

The three of us bowed respectfully to the King and turned to leave. But as I opened the door, I jumped back in fright.

A tall hooded figure strode confidently into the throne room. We could do nothing but stare. After what seemed like an eternity, the figure lowered his hood and spoke:

"I am Trelone, an Elf from the Northern Woods. I too, wish to join your quest."

Over the next two weeks, my companions and I held meetings regularly. They helped us get to know each other, and at the same time, plan out our quest in detail.

Gradually, we got used to the mysterious Trelone. Although I must say, it took a while for us to become accustomed to his young-sounding voice and wrinkle-free skin. With the possible exception of Larsa, Trelone looked to be the youngest member of our group. I say looked, because being that he was an elf, he was probably well over a hundred.

Finally, the fateful day came. It was time for us to leave our homes, our families, and our friends to travel into the foreboding Black Plains. For about a week, we traveled without seeing a single sight, except for coal-black dirt and an ever-graying sky. Trelone came and went, leaving us alone for long stretches of time. Days passed, and our small group began to lose hope. First for find- ing something out there, later for ever returning home.

One day, as our party trudged along, an acrid smell rolled across the plains to us. It was a smell like that of dried blood, and it make us drop to our knees choking.

"What was that?" Grom demanded.

"I don't know," Larsa replied, "but I think we should follow it. Unless someone has a better idea."

"Okay, Mizzy," Grom muttered. "How exactly do you propose to follow a smell?"

"Smell is carried by wind," I answered for her. "We'll walk upwind."

As we began to trudge along again, I noticed Larsa throw Grom a smug grin.

Our little group plodded along for another hour or so. Just as we were about to give up hope, Trelone appeared over a dune.

"This way!" he called to us, waving his hands. "Just over this hill!"

Given new hope, Larsa, Grom and I almost ran to meet Trelone. Of course, when we got there, the elf was nowhere in sight. What we could see, though, was a shock, to say the least.

At the bottom of the dune was a city. It wasn't exceptionally large, or exceptionally beautiful. It was just a city, out in the middle of an unexplored plain. Was this actually what we had come out here to see?

"Come on!" said Larsa, running down the hill. "I just have to explore this place!"

Grumbling, Grom and I followed. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was a bad idea. As I soon found out, I was right.

I should've known from the minute we got down the hill. There were no sounds of a typical city. No children laughing, no vendors hawking their wares. Just hollow, empty silence.

The city gates were wide open and inviting. We had no trouble getting into the city. Getting out, however, was an option that disappeared very quickly from our list of possibilities. Behind us, the gates slammed shut, seemingly without anyone's help.

Larsa dashed toward the gates and began pounding on them. "Open up! Let us out!" she wailed. Watching this spectacle, I vaguely remembered that the last time we saw Trelone, he was outside the gates.

"Larsa," I said, "It doesn't help anything to panic. Why don't we look around the city for a while? Maybe there's another way out."

She stopped pounding and leaned up against the gate. "All right, Randolph. You're the boss." Larsa smiled weakly.

Exploring the city didn't make us feel any better. In fact, it only made us more nervous, especially me. All of the walls were covered in what looked for all the world like dried blood. As we rounded one corner, I saw something that nearly gave me a heart attack. Lying there, broken in several places, was a human skeleton.

Larsa and Grom just gaped. I fell to my knees, wide-eyed.

Grom eventually tore himself away from the grisly sight to look at me. Seeing the state I was in, the dwarf prodded Larsa with his elbow.

"Is there something you might want to tell us, Randolph?" she asked.

"N-no, Larsa," I stammered, "I, uh, tripped." Maybe I would tell them when the mission was over, but not now. I wasn't about to have my troops lose faith in me now.

"Are you just going to sit there or are you going to pitch your tent?" Grom asked me, an- noyed.

I didn't respond. I was still thinking about the gates, and the corpse, and the blood-stained walls of the town. It wasn't going to be easy getting to sleep tonight.

The gates were the reason we were about to spend the night in this dismal town. None of us wanted to sleep in that city, but they hadn't opened yet, and there seemed to be no other exit.

I'd decided that if we had to sleep here, we would do it in the open. Larsa and Grom looked at me like I was crazy. They must've thought I was some kind of coward. Given my performance when we saw the corpse, I don't blame them.

By the time we got the tents pitched, it was dark. We decided to make a pact to stay in camp all night. None of us--least of all me--wanted to wander around this place in the dark.

"I'm sure this whole situation will look better in the morning," I said. If any of us makes it that far.

That night, I was awakened by the sound of footsteps coming around a corner. Happy to meet another person in this gruesome village, I ran to the alley, then stopped in my tracks and screamed.

The screams brought Larsa and Grom running. They pushed past me into the alley, then they too, stopped in horror.

The figure in front of us looked almost human, but it wasn't quite right. It looked decayed and rotting, and when it moved, it stumbled along. The thing lumbered toward me and grabbed my neck in a strangle hold. I could have grabbed my sword from my belt, but I was too deathly afraid of the macabre creature.

With a few quick swings of Grom's axe, the zombie dropped to the ground, releasing my throat. That done, my two companions turned angrily toward me.

"Randolph, you've definitely got some explaining to do," Larsa said.

"All right," I replied with a sigh. "When I was about six or seven, dragons attacked my home village. They killed almost everyone in it, including my parents. All I could do was sit and watch. It gave me this crazy phobia that I still have today: I'm afraid of death.

"Well, soon after the massacre, the dragons made a home out of my village. I hid from them for several days, until an army from Devrine marched into town and took it back. One of the soldiers found me and brought me back to Devrine with him. He trained me to be a solder in an effort to get rid of my fear of death. As you can see, it didn't work."

"This is the guy our King put in charge of the mission?" Grom asked accusingly. "How are we ever going to get out of here with him in command?"

"Grom," said Larsa, "We have a more immediate problem to worry about. Turn around."

We all looked back out into the main street. It was now completely filled with creatures like the one we encountered in the alley!

"How are we going to get out of here?" asked Larsa.

One of the zombies turned and began stumbling toward our alley. Larsa stepped forward and began to spin her staff. Before our eyes, the creature crumbled to dust.

"There's still too many of 'em," Grom snarled as he took up his axe.

Suddenly, we heard the sound of arrows whipping through the air and watched as four zom- bies fell on their backs.

"What's going on here?" I wondered out loud.

As if in answer, a black-cloaked figure carrying a bow dropped down in front of us. He turned around and nodded his head briskly. Trelone!

"Are we glad to see you!" Grom said with a giant grin. Without responding, Trelone turned back to the mass of monsters and let fly several more arrows.

Larsa and Grom dashed out of the alley and joined the battle. I was still too weak in the knees so I just waited in the alley watching. After about ten minutes of this, I passed out from fear.

When I awoke, the sun was shining. Larsa was sitting with her back up against a wall, staring at me.

"What?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbow. "What are you staring at?"

"Grom's dead," she replied simply. "Trelone and I buried him about an hour ago."

I jumped to my feet. "And you think it was my fault, don't you? You think I'm some kind of worthless coward, don't you?"

Larsa didn't say anything, but she stood up and began to back away from me nervously.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't mean to scare you. Come on, let's get out of here."

"How?" she asked. "The gates are still shut tight."

"We'll break down the wall if we have to," I replied. "Just as long as we don't have to stay here another night."

For the rest of the day, Larsa and I wandered around the gruesome town aimlessly. We didn't see any creatures during that time, but neither of us wanted to go to sleep when nightfall came.

"We could take turns staying awake," Larsa offered.

"That sounds like a good idea," I said with a nod. "I'll take the first watch."

Giving me a nasty look, Larsa curled up on the bare ground. It wasn't long before she was sound asleep. That left no one awake except me and possibly Trelone, wherever he might have been.

I tried to pass the time by thinking of ways we might be able to escape. It was a futile effort, considering I had no clue what kind of magic was sealing the gates. After a few hours, I decided that I needed some sleep. I got up and walked over to Larsa, intending to wake her. Before I had taken two steps, I heard a crackling noise behind me.

I whirled around to see what it was, and stood face-to-face with a massive wall of fire!

"Larsa!" I screamed, running back toward her. "Larsa, get up!"

Groggily, the sorceress opened her eyes. "Is it my. . ." She cut off as she noticed the massive wall of fire before her.

I didn't bother to answer her; there was no time. Taking one more look at the inferno, I ran in the other direction. I grabbed Larsa by the shoulder and dragged her until she began running on her own.

Chased by the advancing flames, Larsa and I hurried toward the west wall of the city. After we had gone about a hundred feet, Trelone leapt from one of the rooftops and joined us. "It seems we are stuck between a rock and a hard place," he said, not even out of breath.

"What do you mean?" Larsa asked.

Without a word, Trelone nodded forward. A horde of zombies dragged toward us, seemingly in no hurry. Trelone drew his bow and fired several shots forward, dropping a few of the deathly cre- atures.

"Look," I said, "There's a wall of fire behind us, and an army of barely alive creatures ahead. I'm going to take my chances with the creatures."

The three of us ran forward and into the flood of rotting flesh. Just when I had thought I had made it through, a strong pair of arms grabbed me from behind. I could feel the creature breathing on the back of my neck. It gave me a chill.

Without really thinking, I spun around and punched the monster hard in the face. Its head fell off but the body still stood. Still unaware of what I was doing, I pushed the disgusting, de- capitated body over and stamped it. Then I turned and resumed running.

"I knew you had it in you, Randolph," I heard from behind me. Trelone! He, too, had made it out.

"Thanks," I replied. "Wait! Where's Larsa? Did we lose her?"

Trelone stopped running. I did likewise. "Larsa didn't make it," he said coldly. "There are only two of us left. I'm sorry."

We ran until nightfall. It was a big city, and Trelone and I had lots of places to hide in it. Un- fortunately, hiding wasn't enough.

I picked a place for us to spend the night several hours after dusk. It was behind a house and well-hidden.

"Why don't I take the first watch, Trelone?" I offered. Trelone merely shook his head.

"I'll keep watch, Randolph. Go to sleep." With that, he turned and disappeared into the sha- dows.

"How long?" I called after him, but no response came.

The next morning, before sunrise, I awoke to the sounds of rustling nearby. I got up, grabbed my sword, and slowly crept around a corner to see what was making the sound. In front of me was a dog. A regular, domestic, dog. I ran toward it, elated that I was finally seeing something familiar in that grisly city.

"Stop!" The shout came from behind me. I whirled around and saw Trelone before me, bow at the ready.

"What's the problem, Trelone?" I asked. "This is just a normal, everyday, pet dog."

"It's a devil dog," he replied coldly. "Stand away from it so I can have a clear shot."

Tail wagging, tongue hanging out, the dog trotted over to the Elf. But just as it came within about ten feet of him, the animal abruptly turned around and ran, full speed, in the other direction.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked.

"Devil dogs cannot come near good creatures," Trelone replied as he slung his bow over his shoulder.

"But he came near me," I started to say, but my Elf-friend had again disappeared into the night.

I spent the rest of the morning trying to find some hole in the outer wall or some way that dog could have gotten inside. I found it at about noon: a small break in the death city's wall, just big enough for a dog to fit through. I suppose I could dig this out until it's big enough for me to get through, I thought. But it sure would be easier if Trelone would help me.

By dusk, I had managed to dig a hole all the way through the wall. I turned and checked in- side my pack. Good. Just enough rations to get me back to Devrine. I stood up and slung the bag over my shoulder. All that was left to do was to get Trelone and get out.

I searched the morbid city until well into the night. It was about ten o'clock when I noticed that Trelone didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. Shrugging, I made my way to the town square so that I could find my way back to the hole. It was then that everything suddenly became clear.

I didn't notice the shape until it barked out my name. I turned, putting a hand over my heart.

"Trelone, old friend, you nearly gave me a heart attack." The Elf didn't answer, but walked toward me in long strides. As he came closer, an odd heat seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Trelone?" I said, reaching for my sword. "What's gotten into you?"

The skin on his face melted away, revealing only a skull with fire in its eyes and mouth. Trelone didn't flinch, only continued striding toward me.

"You have escaped me thus far," the creature rasped in a voice that was nothing like the Elf's. "But there's no way to run, now. Not when the one thing you dread most is standing in front of you!" The creature raised its arms and fire erupted at my feet, sending me reeling.

I quickly recovered and drew my sword. I pulled it back as if to swing, but stopped. How could I attack someone I once considered to be a friend? Instead of swinging my blade, I stepped backward and asked, trembling, "Trelone, what's going on? Why are you doing this? Who are you?"

"I am Erydin," the monster rasped. "For centuries, I have lived in this decaying city, feeding on travelers who were so unlucky as to come into the Plains." It stopped advancing. "Once, I could have ruled the world. Could have, had it not been for Devrine, repelling every attack my armies made on it. But with Devrine's three greatest warriors leading my undead army, I shall finally con- quer that worthless city and extend my Black Plains out across the world!"

I raised my sword again, this time in front of me. I was prepared to do whatever I could to stop this undead maniac. Everything he said was all-too possible. The Black Plains lay on a pen- insula, so all that stood between the Plains and the rest of the world was Devrine. Closing my and ignoring the death that this creature radiated, I swung at him with my sword, but hit nothing. The creature cackled and swung its hands toward me, knocking me off my feet as if I had been hit with a hammer.

"You will fail," Erydin hissed, "like all the rest. Give up, Randolph!" I felt an-other blow to the chest, knocking me back down as I tried to stand.

"It ends here!" I growled, struggling to my feet. I hoisted the sword and took another swing at the monster. Again, I achieved nothing as the blade swung through it as if the creature was made of air. My failure only served to give the horror a sort of morbid giddiness. It brought a bony hand up to its shoulder and swung it across its midsection. The hand left a trail of fire sweeping over me. It hurt, but I wasn't dead. It was at that moment I suddenly realized this thing could kill me any time it wanted to, but it was keeping me alive for the sport of it!

I forced myself to stand up, using my sword as a crutch. After I felt secure enough on my own two feet, I tossed the weapon aside. This brought a shocked reaction from Erydin, but it quickly regained its horrifying composure.

"Fine, fool human," it sneered, "throw your weapon away. It will only serve to make your death come faster." It began advancing on me, but I stayed still. The creature made no move to at- tack again, but seemed to be trying to stare me down. It appeared to be the embodiment of death itself, and I very nearly turned and ran in the other direction. To fight the fear, I took a step forward. The horror stopped in its tracks and stared. I had found a weak spot! I took another step toward Ery- din, which responded by backing up.

"Human," it said, almost fearfully, "do you know what you're dealing with?"

"Do I care?" I asked, confidence rising. I didn't stop walking.

"No! You don't know what you're doing!" the death-monster cried, almost at a screech. I felt no pity for this thing that had murdered my friends, and did not stop advancing. Suddenly, the vile creature raised its hands to its burning face.

"No!" it screamed. "No! You can't! No one has ever beaten me!" The fire in the monster's face flared up and its head exploded. Shards of bone and burning flesh blew in all directions. The last thing I remember, I ran for cover behind a blood-soaked building. As I lost consciousness to a coughing fit brought on by the smoke, I saw the city disappear. The buildings, then the walls, simply vanished.

I awoke lying on my back, but not in the place I remembered. Above me, the sky was blue. I hit the ground with my hand to make sure I was still alive and felt grass underneath my fingers. Ex- cited, I jumped to my feet and looked around. Grass spread in all directions across a hilly meadow. Occasionally, a tiny tree poked out of the ground. About fifty feet to my left was a small pond full of clear water. The Black Plains was gone forever.

I began a long walk, but in what direction, I didn't know. After what seemed to be weeks, but was probably only a matter of days, I came upon a village. I ran toward the little town as fast as I could. I was hungry, tired, and needed healing. I didn't have any money, but it was said that a man could buy a meal with a story. I knew just the one to tell.

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