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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Nekromancer - 59. Chapter 59

"Look, I don't care if you are in charge of the caravan. If you set up the wagons like that, we could be ambushed without ever seeing it coming!" Amnor Sen growled.

Niss Gromring bit at her thumb, spitting at Amnor Sen's feet before moving to organize the wagons.

"She should be circling them, shouldn't she?" Jeremy asked, handing a waterskin to the elf.

"She should be. But no, this place is safe, and she wants to keep everyone in line for a quicker start tomorrow. Who the fuck made her caravan leader?" Amnor Sen fumed, gulping down the water.

There was a sudden whoop, and a scream, the elf snarling as he grabbed his glaive.

"And already we're being hit. Fucking three days out of the city… can't we wait until Katapesh to start the killing?" he growled, hurrying toward the sound.

Jeremy followed, grateful they had gone over defensive measures before leaving. He had never fought in a battle with more than four combatants on his side, and he really had no idea what he was supposed to do to support the other fighters.

The cleric paused, trying to think if fighting Ivris counted as a battle.

"Come on Jeremy, the fighting is over there!" Amnor Sen called, pointing to a cloud of dust likely kicked up by the druid guard.

"Actually, it's coming straight for us," Jeremy frowned, pointing at a group of five humans racing toward them in dark cloaks.

He had no idea why they chose that colour. It was still bright enough to see them clearly.

"Good time for it, in the middle of a chaotic set up," Amnor Sen grumbled, turning around.

A silvery missile leapt at them from the raiders, Amnor Sen grunting as he was hit by the force. Shrugging off the blow, he pointed his glaive at the caster.

"Leave now or we will use lethal force!"

"A little late for that Amnor Sen," Jeremy scowled, holding up his own blade. "They don't seem to care."

And then the man was charging, sliding under a sweeping ax as he brought his sword up to gut the mage.

"Drunk God grant us your blessing!" he grunted, stepping on the body to pull his blade out of the caster.

An axe whistled past his head, the cleric rolling away and leaping back to his feet. He glared at the three warriors facing him, spinning his blade in what he hoped was an intimidating display.

Sneering, one them started flashing his own blade around, trying to one up the cleric. Jeremy lunged in the middle of the display, stabbing into the man as his companions howled in rage.

"Honour is for the dead," the man explained, spinning the corpse to catch a hatchet as he pulled his blade out to block the other raider's strike.

Growling in rage, the raiders struck back, Jeremy slipping between them. Their weapons entangled as they attacked, Jeremy dispatching them with a pair of quick thrusts.

"I don't know why you were so upset about that. It isn't exactly honourable to attack a caravan," he added as the last raider fell.

The cleric turned back to Amnor Sen, finding the elf still working on disarming his raider. With a loud sigh, Jeremy darted forward, using his pommel to strike the raider in the head.

"Congratulations, you got him," the cleric grunted as the raider collapsed. "Tie him up. I'll be dealing with the main event."

Giving the elf a quick kiss, Jeremy ran off, finding utter chaos within the cloud of dust.

Twenty raiders were entangled with fifteen guards, bodies laying limp in the dirt as screams and clangs filled the air.

"Fuck… I wish Jakun was here with his breeze…" he grunted, rubbing at his eyes. "Then again…"

The cleric knelt briefly, mug in hand. It filled with a frothy ale, the man gulping it down.

"Drunk God bring down your healing light upon my companions," he said loudly, holding back a burp.

A wave of positive energy pulsed from his mug, washing over the fallen. Several of the bodies groaned, a few of them crawling to their feet as their wounds were sealed.

An arrow caught Jeremy in the shoulder, shaft sticking out of his chain shirt. The man hissed in pain, glaring at the archer as he worked the missile out of the gambeson underneath.

"You fucking asshole! My husband just finished fixing that! And it took forever!"

He ran forward, mug held high.

"Cayden Cailean, bring your favour upon your cleric and his allies!"

Slamming into a trio of archers, Jeremy hacked into a bow held defensively, the wood whipping around as the weapon was sundered. The other archers yelped as they were struck by the flying wood, Jeremy slamming his blade into the third archer's gut. Twisting it as he pulled out, the man turned toward the other raiders, one about to cut down a halfling merchant. Sprinting forward, the cleric stabbed the man in the back, dropping him to the ground.

"They… they came out of nowhere!" the halfling gulped as Jeremy helped her up.

"And they're still here. Get in the wagons!"

The cleric gave the halfling a gentle push toward the wagons, turning to survey the battle. It appeared to be winding down, and the man set about working on the wounded, energy pouring from him as he prayed quietly.

"Damn it, I just fixed that shirt," Amnor Sem grunted, stepping up to the cleric.

"Yeah, well, we'll have to link it again. But for now, go find Niss and get the caravan sorted," Jeremy said, kissing Amnor Sen again.

The elf sighed quietly, moving away. Jeremy continued passing over the fallen, the wounded slowly healing as he set the dead aside. Producing a length of rope, he bound the raiders, not sparing his healing. If nothing else, the cleric hoped they would be taken care of in prison. Assuming they made it that long. Jeremy doubted Niss would turn back just for prisoners.

Copyright © 2020 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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4 minutes ago, IkeNeko said:

Jeremy the whirling death - wow! I’m impressed. 

It may take a bit (of drink) to get him fighting, but when he does, Jeremy is a beast.

I mean, clerics in general are beasts, but a dexterity focused cleric of a drunken god with a rapier is just *chef's kiss*

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