Legend of Grimrock: Destiny’s Chance. (Part 10)

The arrows fly by as we take cover on each side of the hall.

They’re all looking at me for an idea. To lead them.

Why? I have been nothing but a slave for most of my life.

Then it dawns on me. Now that they know who my true parents are, they’re expecting something out of the “legendary son” of Contar and Yennica. But I am not that son. I am not the son I should have – could have been. The Mages saw to that when they stripped me of my mind, and tore away at the very fiber of my soul.

They’re waiting for me to tell them what to do.

How to get out of this.

Since we have been pushed in here, we have been reacting to Mount Grimrock.

We will never survive this way.

We have to be proactive if we hope to survive this.

I looked at Taren Bloodhorn. For several years now, he has walked side by side with me. He has seen the look in my eyes. He knows what it means.

We fight. We make a stand. Live or die. We will not go down as cowards.

And I will tear down every Mage enabled abomination that stands in front of me.

I looked to the others, “We will not survive like this. We need to take action. It may be our death, but let those Mages know we did not die like cowards. That we stood and fought, not cowered in the corner. I have an idea…”

I stood in the door way and watched five archers take aim and fire; as soon as their boney fingers were about to release; I stepped to the side and let the arrows fly harmlessly by. If anything, these archers, because of their undead status, were considerably slower than they were when they were living. I stood in the hallway immediately again, and watched – and counted – nine seconds, before I had to step aside again.

I looked at Taren. The massive minotaur nodded. “Nine seconds, to reach them,” I explained. “After that, the rest of us charge in.”

I stood in the hallway again; and another round of arrows launched. As soon as I stepped aside, Taren charged in, head down and gorged three of the undead archers; as much as a minotaur can gorge something without flesh. Two impaled on his horns, one he grabbed by the spine as he charged by. As the undead archers slowly turned to face him, Silvertan and I ran in, striking the undead from behind, trying to shatter their spines; hoping this would quickly end the fight.

Blaz’tik meanwhile chanted something that was beyond any of us to understand. “Chalek –tic!- tavarium kon-Chala!”

And from his fingertips bolts of lightning erupted, honing in on the skeletons tattered, metallic armor.

I watched as the undead archer that Taren Bloodhorn had grabbed by the spine was flung around like a child’s plaything. In many ways, I hoped these undead could not feel whatever pain Taren was putting it through. Granted it had no skin, no nerves, no feelings – but it was a restless spirit because of the Mages and their cursed magic.

I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and looked down to see an arrow sticking out of it. I looked up to see Silvertan still struggling with one of the undead archers. “My apologies,” he hissed. “This one has quite a bit of fight in him.”

That’s when I saw Taren approach it, and with one punch from his massive fist, he shattered its skull and spine, sending the rest of the undead horror, crumbling to the ground. “You nearly hit me,” Silvertan hissed.

“Casualties of war,” Taren growled and ran to me. “Are you all right, my friend?”

“Fine,” I muttered. “Just yank it-“

He didn’t wait for me to finish before he pulled the arrow out. I screamed in pain as the arrow head ripped at my flesh. I could feel the warmth of the crimson blood seeping into my shirt. I looked at Taren and winced, “I don’t suppose you have any Crularious, do you?” (1)

Taren shook his head. “You have an odd sense of humor, my friend. You could have been killed.”

“We all could have,” I answered, placing my hand on the wound to apply pressure. “But we can’t live in Fear here. We have to take charge. Take control. Or Grimlock will claim us.”

Silvertan extended his hand to me to help me up. “I am truly sorry I was unable to stop the archer before he fired, human.”

“I believe you,” I said as I stood, wincing. “We need all of us to survive this.”

“Agreed,” he nodded. “I am also sorry for how I treated you previously. I thought you a spoiled child, who somehow ended up in here, trying to prove yourself as ‘legendary’ as your parents. I see now I should have learned more about you and what you have gone through.”

“Let’s have a drink over all of this when we get out of here,” I smiled.

“Agreed,” Silvertan repeated. “I shall pay for the drinks.”

“Try not to pay from one of the King’s Men’s pockets,” I smiled.

“Fair enough,” Silvertan smiled.

1. Crularious is a plant. It’s effects are explained in the previous story entry found here.