Tired Of Death

Dreth pulled Darkblood out of the body of the elf and whirled to meet another attack. He swung again, but the elf he was now facing ducked, and he clove naught but air.

He risked a glance around as his enemy danced back to avoid his follow-up thrust. Cuthbert had dragged himself backwards and was busy pulling the arrow out of his arm, m.o.a.ning all the while.

Percy and Sprat were trying to fend off another elf, whilst Smudge was flying around yet another, nipping in and biting where she could, whilst avoiding the swings from his sword.

Dreth parried a blow and stepped back. They needed to do something quickly, in a moment the elves would overwhelm them.

"Down!" cried Redthorne from behind, and he obeyed as a large pulse of yellow energy passed over his head, enveloping several of the enemy and reducing them to cinders. Cries went up from several of the elves and Dreth grinned to himself.

However, the spell faded far too quickly. As it dissipated Dreth saw a tall female elf in long robes, chanting a counterspell. "Damn," he said. "There's a sorceress with them!"

The surviving elves moved forward again, whilst Dreth and the others withdrew slightly.

"You will die for eating Fyy, foul beasts," said one of the elves, who was dressed in gilded armor and wielding a glowing white sword. Evidently the leader.

"Who the Dreg is Fyy?" asked Dreth, trying to take a position that would block the corridor.

"Who cares?" said Darkblood, "just let me at him, I will suck his life force out to feed my own."

The elves scowled.

"Not helping sword," said Dreth. He braced himself as they closed in.

Something large and indistinct leapt out of a side passage with a howl, and landed on one of the elves guarding their mage. The elf screamed in agony as his arm was torn clean off, spraying blood everywhere. Another two beasts followed, jumping into the Elven hunting party and throwing them into confusion.

"What is it? What is it?" cried one, swinging his sword blindly in front of him as his colleague went down.

"Ware!," shouted the sorceress. "They're invisible!"

Dreth stared at the Elven leader as he looked back and forth between his howling men and the undead party, his position now compromised.

As another of his warriors screamed, he snarled at Dreth. "Damn you! This isn't finished, I'll kill you later."

"Hah, join the queue," said Dreth, but he was talking to air. The leader had jumped into the fray against the new attackers, evidently able to see the creatures.

"What's going on?" asked Smudge.

"Let's get out of here whilst they're distracted," he answered, turning and moving quickly away down a random tunnel. "Leave that thing Cuthbert!" he said, but the zombie shook his head as he heaved at the elf Dreth had killed earlier.

"Uuuh huuu."

The group trotted away, nearly losing Sprat to another pit trap.

Eventually, after well and truly losing themselves in the maze of passages, Redthorne cried out for a rest.

Dreth nodded, and they stopped in a corner. "Percy and Sprat, go back a ways, make sure no one is following us. Cuthbert, Smudge, check down there and over there." He indicated the two passageways ahead. "Be careful of traps."

Percy looked longingly at the Elven corpse, but he and the others moved off into the gloom to make sure they were all clear.

Dreth drew Darkblood and wiped the blade down.

"Delicious," hummed the sword. "I always did enjoy elf. They have so much more energy in them."

"What were those creatures back there?" said Redthorne, patting the baby, who was squirming about in his grasp.

"Some kind of invisible wolf-man as far as I could see," replied Dreth. He looked at Darkblood. "Was that your doing, me being able to see them? The others obviously couldn't."

"Just one of the advantages of carrying me into battle," said the blade smugly.

"Hmm," said Dreth, looking up as Percy and Sprat returned. "Well?"

"I could hear something in the distance, but it didn't seem to be getting closer," said the zombie. "I think we're alright for a little while." He squatted down and took a large bite out of the arm of the elf Cuthbert had brought along.

"Oh! Elf meat is so tender!" he said, chewing blissfully. "Here lad, I promised you a liver." He turned back to the body, but was interrupted by Smudge, who came zipping back at a fast pace, even for her.

"What's wrong?" asked Dreth.

"You mentioned a Golem was after you yes?" Asked the Fearie.

"Yes."

"Big fellow, glowing red eyes is he?"

"Where is it?" asked Redthorne.

"Back aways. I don't think it saw me. It was just standing there, not moving."

"Maybe it's run out of magic or something," said Percy.

"We should be so lucky," said Dreth. "Ah, here's Cuthbert. About time! Anything up there?"

"Uuuh hhhhhuuu!!!" said Cuthbert, pointing urgently down the corridor he had just explored.

"What's that?" said Dreth.

"Uuuu uuuuuhh uuuh hhhhuuuu!!" repeated the zombie, jumping up and down.

"What did he say?" asked Redthorne.

"I'm not sure. Something about cake may be?" Dreth frowned.

"I think he said 'two eyes'," said Sprat.

"Eye cake?" asked Smudge.

"Uuuhh Hhhuuuu!!!" Cuthbert grabbed at his head in frustration, then stopped suddenly as an idea came to him. He held up 4 fingers.

"Fingers?" asked Percy, puzzled.

"Oh wait! I used to play this when I was alive," said Dreth, then wrinkled his brow. "I think. Four words?" He turned to Cuthbert who nodded, pointed and touched his nose.

"Is there something wrong with his nose now?" Percy said, still catching up.

"First word," said Dreth, as Cuthbert held up a finger.

"Small?" guessed Redthorne.

"A small word?" asked Smudge, hovering near the wall.

"The?" said the mage.

"And? IF? At? A? A! The first word is 'A'." Dreth folded his arms in satisfaction.

"Fourth word," Smudge said.

"Dance!" Percy finally caught on as Cuthbert gesticulated wildly.

Cuthbert frowned at him and shook his head.

"Drink?" said Dreth, then as the zombie changed actions... "Lean against the wall? Talk?"

"Party!" said Redthorne, as inspiration struck

"Party. The fourth word is party. A something something party," said Smudge.

"Second word," Dreth said, beginning to enjoy himself.

"Thinking!"

Cuthbert scowled and scratched his head.

"Scratch! OW!" Percy rubbed his arm where Dreth had hit him.

Cuthbert looked at the floor, hoping for inspiration, then clicked his fingers and cupped his hand around his ear.

"Ear."

"No no, sounds like," corrected Smudge.

"Sounds like... behind?" said Percy, as Cuthert continued his gyrations.

"No. Injury? Behind? Back? Back! Sounds like 'back' "

Cuthbert pulled the top of ears up.

"Black?" said Dreth, and Cuthbert pointed at him. "Shit. A Black Elf party."

The zombie touched at his nose and nodded madly, pointing up the passageway.

"Oh, oh! I have one! I have one! Let me have a go!" Percy waved his hands about wildly.

Dreth ignored him. "So we have Black elves one way, Mr. Red eyes down that way, and our good friends the Elven hunters somewhere behind us." He looked at Redthorne as Cuthbert bent over the dead elf and began fiddling about with the mouth.

"It seems very crowded in here suddenly," he said, narrowing his eyes in thought and rubbing his chin.

"Don't forget the invisible wolf-men," said the wizard, in what sounded like overly casual tones.

"Finally! Everyone look! Look at me! I have a new tongue! A shiny new elf tongue! I can talk again! I can probably speak Elvish and everything." Cuthbert danced about, sticking his new body part out so everyone could see. "Hey, where did the Fearie go?"

Dreth looked about, down all three corridors. "I don't know, but I'm getting a bad feeling about all of this..."