The Weekend Warriors Chronicles - Piles of Bones - Part 2

It was around midday when the group broke for lunch. They sat in the cool shade and munched on the provisions they had acquired from the inn before leaving that morning.

It was a quiet day, with only the slight ocasional rustle of the trees bringing any sound to the group. It was a peaceful noise, which spoke of long quiet afternoons spent lounging in the forest, without work waiting to be done.

But, work was waiting, so upon finishing their light meal, the group reluctantly rose from their resting spots and continued forward.

It was a mere minute later when Shyael called a halt to the group. They all stopped and looked at her, while she cocked her head and listened. Then she rolled her eyes.

Then Astral heard it, too. "Alright, Talin, come on out."

Silence.

"I can hear you. Come out, or I'll send the group in to get you."

There was a pause of silence. Then several feet down the path a ragged young teen emerged, fidgeting with his fingers sheepishly.

Aranel sighed exasperatedly.

Taurnil groaned audibly.

Claymore looked confused.

Astral stood, hands on hips, tapping her foot in annoyance, scowling at the boy. He lowered his eyes while approaching her, as if afraid she would let him have it.

"Talin...where are you supposed to be right now?"

The boy fidgeted.

"Answer me."

He looked up at her with pleading eyes. "Please, Astral, just this once?"

"Answer my question, Talin."

He sighed mournfully. "With the horses."

"Right. Explain to me how you're supposed to be caring for the horses when you're hours away from home?"

"Look, I know I'm not supposed to leave the cottage, but I just know I'd make a great addition to the group. I can sneak around really well, and I'm pretty fast with a dagger."

"Talin we've been over this at least a dozen times. Your job is to...," she waited for him to answer.

"Stay with the horses," he answered as his shoulders sagged.

"Because?"

"I'm a stableboy." His eyes suddenly brightened. "But if you let me join the group I know I can be so much more."

"I don't need your help with the group, Talin. What I need is a stableboy - one who will actually stay and look after the horses instead of tagging along behind me everytime I get a job."

"Yes, Astral," he looked at his feet in shame.

"Now get on home so you can make it before dark. There are things in these woods you'd rather not see. Things that wait until after dark to come out and feast on the blood and bones of errant stableboys who follow their masters. I hear they like fresh eyeballs, but that could just be a rumor..."

Talin's eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open. In one swift movement, he turned and darted back down the path.


"He really is fast," Taurnil mumbled.

Shyael snickered to herself.

Astral motioned to the group to continue on as before, and everyone fell into their normal marching pattern.

"So, what kind of creatures are we dealing with?" Claymore asked.

"Just skeletons. Nothing serious," Shyael answered.

"No. The creatures in the woods."

"What creatures?"

"The ones Astral just mentioned. The ones that made Talin run off in a frenzied rush because they like fresh eyeballs."

Shyael snickered. "She just made that up."

"Been adventuring much, have we?" Aranel said with sneer.

"Here and there."

"You're pretty wet behind the ears, aren't you?"

"Huh?"

"I thought so."

"What? What does that mean?"

"It means like you act as if you have no experience adventuring. Are you sure this isn't your first job?"

"I assure you, I know what I'm doing."

"Hmph. We shall see."

The group marched on in silence.

As dusk fell, Astral called the group to a halt again. "Alright, let's make camp. Everyone assume your normal roles. Claymore, you're with me. I assume you know how to hunt?"

"Er..."

"How do you survive on your own if you don't hunt? What do you eat?"

"Well, I usually have my meals served by pretty barwenches," he smiled impishly.

Astral rolled her eyes at him. "Just follow along and don't get in the way. Don't make any sudden movements or noises. Can you handle that?"

"Of course," Claymore said with a proud smile.

"Alright. Follow me."

Moments later, she held up her hand for Claymore to stop. He did so, and she pointed to something sitting in the tall clumps of grass. Claymore wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Albino tree rats? You...eat those?"

"Something wrong with that?"

"Well they're just so...gamey. And they're tails are always covered in mites."

"Roasting will take care of that. Now quiet, or you'll scare them away."

Claymore doubted that, as tree rats were too stupid to be afraid of anything.

Astral quietly knocked an arrow in her bow and shot one of them. Just a few moments after that, she shot another. The stupid creatures made no attempt to escape. Within five minutes, she had shot all four of them. She strung them together and handed them to Claymore.

"I shoot them, you clean them."

He took the bundle, looking at it with a sneer. Astral turned and headed toward camp where the others were busy building the fire, and clearing the campsite.

Claymore took the rats to a flat rock, and set about preparing them for cooking.

Two hours later, bellies full of fresh meat, the group lounged lazily around the fire. Astral got up and brushed herself off. "Time for bed, folks. We still have a couple hours' march to get to the abbey, so we all need to get some sleep. Claymore. You're on first watch."

"Watch?"

Shyael chuckled to herself. Aranel rolled his eyes.

"You sit...and watch. You make sure those eyeball eating monsters don't sneak up on us in the middle of the night. If you see or hear anything suspicious, you wake me up. I'll determine if it's something we need to deal with, and either wake the group for a fight, or tell you you're an idiot."

"...Oh. Well, how will I know if it's a suspicious noise?"

"Anything out of the ordinary forest noise would constitute as suspicious and therefore warrant further investigation."

Clayton stared blankly at her.

"Any noise that isn't normal."

"Oh. Got it."

"Your watch shift is two hours long. At the end of your shift, you wake both the cleric and mage - they watch together."

"Why is that?"

"Because they're not as physically strong as the rest of us."

"But what about Shyael? She seems kind of frail."

"I assure you, she can take care of herself. Shyael is a thief. And she's an elf."

"Okay..."

"Her hearing is very accute. And she's trained to listen."

"Oh. So..."

"Just sit, back facing the fire, look out into the woods, periodically do a perimeter check. And listen."

"What about you? You're an elf, aren't you?"

"Half. My father was an elf."

"And your mother?"

"Wasn't. Goodnight." Without further comment, she laid on the ground with the rest of the group and slept.

*****

The night passed uneventfully, and soon it was time for the group to rise and stretch, eat a light breakfast, and head out. About an hour later, they could see the abbey in the distance, and an hour after that, they were walking down the path that led to the front doors.

The doors were locked. Astral motioned to Shyael, who knelt down to peek in the keyhole. Just as she had done the day before with Claymore's door, she rummaged through her tools, selected the appropriate one, and had the door open within seconds.

It was quiet inside, not a soul to be seen. The interior was minimally lit, and seemed gloomy despite the sunlight that managed to filter in through the elegant stained glass windows. Large altars were piled high with bouquets of fresh flowers, but despite their cheerful appearance, they did little to brighten the place. It just seemed creepy. And dead.

Claymore sneezed loudly. Several times. The group stood and looked at him, waiting for him to regain his composure.

"Sorry about that. Wasn't expecting to walk into a garden. What's with all the flowers? Someone die?"

Aranel hmphed under his breath and crossed his arms. "If you're going to be traveling about pimping your services, you should at least take a few moments to study the local history. You look like less of a moron when you speak."

Claymore looked at him. "I don't usually bother. My job is to kill stuff. Not shove my nose in a book and only come up for air every two days."

"And just how much air are you getting when your face is shoved into the barmaid's bosom?"

"A lot more than you've probably ever gotten."

"Alright, guys," Astral interrupted. "Save your pissing contest for after the job. We're on the clock here. Taurnil, would you enlighten our ignorant comrade?"

"Of course. These priests worship the great goddess Aldonnistyl."

"Er, never heard of her."

Aranel sighed loudly and shook his head. Claymore scowled back at him.

"Aldonnistyl is the goddess of peace and tranquility. Priests who worship her must have a calm temperament and be quick to forgive their foes. They sacrifice fresh flowers weekly, and engage in a nightly worship ritual where they burn incense, scented oils, and rare spices. They depend heavily upon monetary donations from devout followers to keep the church running and buy the things they need. When a temple loses the favor of the goddess, large amounts of gold must be sacrificed."

"Wow. How do you know all that?"

"Beacause he knows how to read. It's something priests of all religions are expected to do. Do you know how to read, Claymore?"

He shrugged. "Don't need to. I just need to know how to use a sword. Do you know how to swing a sword, Aranel? Or are your arms too scrawny? You probably don't have the strength to even lift one. You probably don't even have enough strength in those diminuitive arms to properly squeeze a barmaid."

"Ooh. Diminuitive. That's a big word for a man of such little brain. Not only did you use it correctly in a sentence, but you pronounced it correctly, as well. I'm impressed."

Shayel snickered behind her hand.

"Maybe I'm not as stupid as you think," Claymore said in a tone beneath a growl.

"Maybe you're actually stupider than I think," Aranel snarled back at him.

"Gentlemen," Astral interrupted. "Little progress is being made. Let us go find Father Jon."

The two scowled at each other but followed their leader. Shyael and Taurnil looked at each other and shrugged, then followed behind them.

It was a small structure and it didn't take long for them to find Father Jon's office.

Astral rapped sharply on the door, and the group's ears were immediately met with a dull thud, as if a book fell to the floor. A few seconds later, they heard a small tremulous voice on the other side.

"Who...who is it?"

"It's Astral's band. I hear you have a problem with some skeletons."

It was quiet for a moment.

"He probably got wind of the stench of our new companion," Aranel muttered.

Claymore either ignored him or didn't realize the comment was intended for him.

Finally the doorknob began to slowly turn. An elderly man peeped around the door at the group. His face was worn and lined with worry. He shuffled hesitantly out of his small office.

Astral put her hands on her hips and regarded him skeptically. "What's the problem?"

"Well, it all started about a week or so ago. I was down in the basement gathering some herbs for the nightly ritual, when all of a sudden I heard a clacking sound behind me. I turned around and saw nothing but bones. A skeleton! And before I could even figure out what to do, another one seemed to appear out of nowhere! I ran as fast as I could and locked the door behind me."

"What about your nightly rituals?" Clayton asked. "How have you been performing them without your herbs?"

"We haven't been. And I'm terribly afraid the goddess will punish us. We'll have to sacrifice an entire plate of gold coins to win back her favor."

"Where are all the other priests?" Astral inquired.

"I sent them away. None of them felt safe with the skeletons in the basement. They're locked down there, but we're all afraid they'll somehow escape and kill us. We haven't allowed worshippers into the building."

"Why don't you just turn the skeletons? There are only two of them. You are priests, are you not?" Taurnil asked.

"Well, yes, of course, but the next night they came back."

"Alright, lead us to the basement then, and we'll see what we can do."

"Here. Take the key. I'll lead you to the main hallway, but you're on you're own after that."

As promised, Father Jon led them to the main hall. With a shakey finger, he pointed to the basement door, then turned and ran back to his office, slamming the door behind him. The clicking of the lock echoed throughout the hall.

Astral shrugged, placed the key in the door, and turned it. The door opened onto a narrow hallway with a set of stairs. One by one they descended, following another narrow hallway into a typical dank, dusty, and dark basement.

"Aranel, some light please?"

Aranel chanted softly under his breath. Within a few seconds, the room was filled with light. Nothing out of the ordinary was visible, just a room filled with supply barrels and bags of grain. The group walked into the room and started looking around.

Shyael busied herself studying the walls, running her hands slowly across them. Taurnil and Aranel started looking around the bags and barrels.

"Er...why is she doing that?"

"She's checking for secret doors. Why don't you help the rest of us look for anything odd."

Claymore moved one of the barrels aside. Behind it, the wall had a barely visible, slightly recessed area, about the size of his fist. He pushed on it, and instantly a section of the wall swung open, revealing a small hallway. It stretched on for several feet, then turned to the left.

"Good job, Claymore," Astral complimented.

He smiled proudly.

Aranel and Shyael rolled their eyes.

Astral held her hand up to the group, then scouted ahead. A few minutes later, she rejoined them. "The passage goes on for several feet with a few twists and turns, then leads up into an old cemetary. Let's go check it out." She headed back down the hall, and the others closely followed.

The tunnel smelled of freshly dug earth, making it seem fairly new. After following the short passage, it stopped at a dead end. There was a ladder leading up a hole.

"Skeletons need ladders?" Claymore asked.

Shayael shrugged. "Guess they're afraid they might break a bone if they fall down the hole," she joked.

Astral was the first up the hole, followed by Claymore, Taurnil, Shayel, and lastly, Aranel.

The graveyard looked ancient but ordinary; a smattering of old faded tombstones were scattered here and there. A wrought iron gate surrounded the yard. Two twisted naked trees stood on either side of the small enclosure, which added to the ambience. Silvergray clouds creeped slowly across a slate gray sky.

"It's suddenly gray and creepy," Claymore said to no one in particular.

"Well, aren't all cemetaries gray and creepy? That's what makes them so fun!" Shayel announced.

"So where are these skeletons we're supposed to be fighting?" Claymore asked eagerly.

"Can't wait to prove ourselves, can we," Aranel sneered.

"That's right," Claymore said, turning to face the snooty mage. "I just can't wait to sink my sword into something."

"Is that a threat, you ill-bred cretin?"

"Oh no - that's not a threat. You'll know when I'm threatening you."

"Uh, guys, I hate to interrupt your friendly conversation, but look." Shyael pointed across the small graveyard, where two skeletons stood, armed with swords.

"I'll take care of this! The rest of you just stand and watch," Claymore announced proudly as he trotted across the cemetary.

"Stupid peacock," Aranel muttered.

"What's he doing?" Shyael asked loudly.

"Openly displaying his wit and battle prowess," Taurnil replied.

Astral stood and watched, arms crossed, silent.

The clattering sound of breaking bones filled the air. Claymore effortlessly cleaved through one of the skeletons, then turned and did the same with the other. It was all over in a matter of seconds, and there stood the warrior, proud smile on his face, chest puffed up, hands on his hips. It looked as if he were just waiting for praise.

The group stood and just looked at him silently.

Claymore deflated. "Well, aren't you going to say anything?"

"Like you're a moron?" Aranel remarked.

"What do you mean? I single handedly took out these two skeletons. I completed the quest!"

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had saved us all. Hail to the mighty warrior. He has saved us all! We are forever in his debt."

Shyael snickered behind her hand.

Taurnil scowled.

Astral stood with hands on hips.

"You're mocking me, aren't you?"

Aranel didn't answer.

"What did I do wrong?" he looked to Astral for an answer.

She looked at him a long moment before answering. "A good warrior appraises the situation before rushing into battle. Don't be so eager to prove yourself that you put yourself, and your group, into danger."

Claymore hung his head.

"What's that sound?" Shyael suddenly asked.

The rest of the group listened, then heard it as well. It was a minute scraping sound, coming from the ground near Claymore's feet. The scraping grew louder, and to the group's annoyance, the skeleton was pulling itself back together, the bones reassembling the creature it had been. The second pile of bones did the same, and soon both skeletons were whole, and leering at the fighter.

"Um...never seen that before," Claymore grumbled.

But before any of them bothered to act, two more skeletons clawed their way out of the dirt to stand beside their comrades. Then four more. Claymore was effectively surrounded.

"This is why you shouln't rush into battle," Aranel scolded, shaking his head in disgust.