A Farewell from Worms

Archaus stretched his arms out as he threw himself upwards, the ancient steel of his twin sabers flicking their full length as he spun in a perfect inverted pike over the top of the golem just as the creature's fist drove downwards into the spot he'd been standing. Shoulder length black hair fanned out around him like halo contrasting with nearly white skin as bright red eyes tracked the massive brute passing beneath him in slow motion.

The impact of the boulder sized fist against the stone platform shook the entire balcony, a spiderweb of cracks racing out across the tile surface and tossing chunks of the once beautiful mosaic into the air to rattle back down. Meanwhile, the spinning blades whupped like a propeller, slicing flesh to ribbons and dropping the lithe warrior lightly on his feet behind the creature.

The golem turned, unperturbed by the wounds now leaking a viscous black across its shoulders and upper arms. Rising to it's full twelve foot height, it pulled fists back, bones jutting through gaping gashes across rotten flesh and sending puffs of putrid decay into the air.

“Of for crying out loud, die again already...”

Flipping his blades out and inwards in unison as the monster lifted both fists, Archaus threw himself forward, lowering his shoulder and twisting to drive it into the exposed abdomen of the beast, his pupils flaring from mere crimson to bright, seething red. Flexing his legs, he lifted, and with an audible grunt, the massive golem lifted off the ground and went flying backwards as if tossed by a giant. The arc was slow and short, but far enough, the construct of bone and rotten meat dropping off the edge of the platform to silently fall the nearly hundred meters towards the courtyard of citadel Xythul.

Archaus was shaking. Sheathing his swords over his back, he lifted both hands looking at his palms, watching them tremble, then dropped to his knees, his mouth twisting into a grimace revealing long, slender canines.

“You grow weak, my friend.”

The voice was a rasping whisper combined with the faintest echo inside his head. Lifting his eyes to peer through a mist of black hair drifting across his features in the plagued winds of the ancient castle, Archaus watched the figure emerge onto the spanning circular balcony that surveyed most of the plague valley.

Malagar the Decayed was human once. Now that parody slithered and shifted more than walked, a jumbled skeleton held together by worms, maggots, and tattered cloth moving as if it were being slowly juggled by clumsy hands; always just about to fall and shatter into dry bones, then caught by the swarming insects that held the dark lord's consciousness. Glistening shelled beetles tightly coiled in empty eyesockets gave the bobbling skull at the top of the mess a pair of makeshift eyes, the creatures inside shifting to change the reflection of light and even provide the illusion of focus on surroundings or people. The skittering swarm pushed forward first like a shadow, darkening the ground where the writhing mess would squirm to next as it approached.

Archaus stood up slowly, tarnished ornate armor creaking against the toned and handsome features of the vampire now facing the approaching monstrosity.

“I feel as if I'm growing old.” He flexed his hand, watching the movement of his fingers carefully in case they might betray his words to be true. “Whatever happened, every movement is an effort. Every fight leaves me exhausted. If I didn't feel the dead weight of my heart still silent in my chest, I would have thought I might be mortal again.”

“Far from it.”

The smooth voice murmured, the abomination pattering, shifting, slithering, and rushing to a stop near the edge. The skeleton leaned forward to flop over the edge, dangling like a hanged man over the courtyard below and twisting slowly in the wind, its beetle eyes locked on the splattered remains of the golem far below.

“Something has gone wrong. Something has broken the song of the citadels. The raging dead turn on one another and the Carrion Lords now eye one another with suspicion. Our unity is broken and with it much of the power to which we are accustomed.”

Archaus stepped forward to stand next to the seething mass, his eyes peering out over the planes below. It was total war. Golems swung mighty fists, batting dozens of skeletons aside as zombies ate the legs out from under them, slowly pulling them down or getting crushed under foot. Wraiths and ghosts swarmed and screamed, lost in the horror of their own existence and taking their rage out on anything within reach.

“How long before the living see our weakness and strike?” He mused, his jaw tightening as the reality of their situation played out before them.

“They move against us already.” Malagar's skull lolled over on it's side, bouncing and wiggling on the ends of a hundred worms as it regarded his ally. “The Emerald Legion is regrouping. Elven scouts are moving to the north and west.”

“If your plan is to work, M'lord...” Archaus met the obscene gaze of the the swarm. “your house needs to be in order. This revolt needs to end.”

Malagar's skeleton suddenly arched as if a man struck from behind, the insects pouring over the top and bottom in streams reminiscent of long upper and lower teeth, one bony arm reaching upwards as if drowning before the bones were pulled within, the hand finally slipping below the surface before the entire skeleton emerged from within, arms crossed, beetles and earwigs pouring off the clean surface to bounce and bobble the bones around like a shivering tomb. Malagar was thinking, the vampire thought, rolling his eyes slightly. He always played with his remains when he was deep in thought.

“Leave the lower levels alone.” the words rasped softly in Archaus mind. “Go to the human lands to the west, kill, regain your strength, and watch them. I foresaw this upheaval and have made certain … contingency preparations. They will come, but I would know who they send.”

“With all due respect, M'lord, your home is in total chaos. Without me here, your continued existence may be in jeopardy.”

The beetles fell from the bouncing skull like drops of oil shaken from an blasphemous machine, the small insects scurrying to reclaim their spots before they were devoured by their fellows.

“Do not doubt my power, old friend. I will be safe for now. My concern is not my home, but our living enemies and the lords of the other citadels. Do this now while they, too, are regaining control of their houses. Time is short.”

“As you wish.” Archaus blinked, then turned, heading towards the edge of the balcony to the west and placing one armored boot on the edge of the platform. “This … has to work.” he cast a glance back at the seething pile of vermin.

“It will.”

The answer was in his mind, alone.

Archaus nodded, the bright moonlight casting his features into stark relief. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes, and with the soft rustle of cloth, was gone.

“It must.” Malagar repeated, his swarming body settling into near silence as for the first time in years, the carrion lord felt a twinge of fear.