Chapter 1-13: Who Wants to be Safe?

“Captain?” the talented young Sorcerer came up, not without a bit of swagger to him. Given he was a Five, it wasn’t unwarranted.

“I need you to fly out there, see if that’s a woman coming up the road, see if she’s Possessed or something, and if she’s clean, bring her back.”

The Stormblooded’s brow furrowed. “What would a living person be doing out there? Never mind, it’s my job to find out,” he filled in for himself. With a word and a gesture, he hopped to the battlement, kicked off, and was instantly flying away rapidly through the air, his staff clutched firmly in his hand as he streaked away under the envious eyes of the men on the wall.

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Hah, distractingly cute holograms kept them from shooting at me. I kept up the Hello Kitty and Smiley as I saw a figure detach itself from the top of the wall and come flying towards me. Mindful of their paranoia, I limped over to a crushed and rusting sedan there and leaned back against the hood, waiting for them to arrive.

He only took a minute or so to cover the half-mile to me, gliding in to pause about fifty feet away, which would put him nicely in range of several important Detection spells he no doubt had to Cast.

I sat there and let them sweep over me. I didn’t have anything magical on me except my Ring, although he’d probably be able to sense my Curse.

I flicked up a normal Disruption Dart with Sanctified magic on it. That should set off some glow meters right there as he was looking me over, although I had to drop my Holo to do it.

“<Good morning to you>,” the flying, uniformed man with the staff called out carefully, eyes sparkling with divination magic. “<You, um, don’t seem to be undead, miss...>”

Crap, I couldn’t understand a damn thing.

I let the Darts drop, stuck my thumb by my ear and my pinkie by my lips, brought up Comprehend Languages again. “You’re going to have to repeat that,” I said in Human. “My Bloodline just activated thirty-seven hours ago, and it’s fucked with my head. It seems to be a Shroud effect.”

He seemed a bit startled at my reply, and carefully repeated the same words, almost amused, and definitely interested, as he appraised me.

“Oh, no, I’m not undead, although I took a swipe from a shadow and I’ve had to kill quite a number of undead to make it here. I was kidnapped by some Sinbound and dumped in Queens. I walked from there to here over the past two days.”

“<And may I ask your name?>” he ventured politely, descending to within thirty feet of me.

I reached into my purse, pulled out the wallet there, and flicked out the driver’s license. “Here’s my before-pic, flyboy.”

That actually seemed to please him, and carefully he glided up to me, reaching out and taking the ID from my fingers, and comparing it to me with interest.

“<A little something different around the eyes and hair, Miss Elrii>?” he inquired, somehow not finding them all that alarming.

“My hair stylist is either going to be very happy with me, or think I went slumming at a competitor, flyboy,” I replied dryly.

“<Oh, my operating name is Helix!>” He spun in a circle while spirals of mist zipped up from his boots to his head. He was a fairly handsome guy, on the lean side, with his hair going silky blue-white from his Bloodline. He was wearing some kind of blue and white vest over a military uniform of some sort, probably indicating his Element and specialty, and making him easy to identify among the soldiers here.

Not something they’d dare if fighting a human foe, obviously, as it was a great way to get sniped.

“I suppose you should address me as Traveler, then,” I replied with a half-approving smile at his show. He preened. “Do I have to walk all the way to that wall over there? I’d bring up a Disk, but I’m out of them.”

“” He waved his staff, and a Disk of cloudy vapors spun up into being next to him. He invited me with a gesture; I limped over and sat down on it, then fell back onto it carelessly.

The Disk kept next to him as he lifted off the ground and headed back in the direction he’d come. “Thanks for the ride, flyboy. Can you tell me what day it is? The last few have been kind of a blur.” And that was truth.

He gave me a side glance. “<It is Wednesday July Fourth, 2018, Miss Traveler.>”

“Ohhhh, happy Independence Day. Steaks, beer, and fireworks all around, please.” And that meant the girl wasn’t seventeen yet...

“<You strike me more as a wine type of person, Miss Traveler.>”

“The steaks better be Kobe, the beer Peil Gold Classic, and the fireworks better be exploding wraiths,” I replied neutrally.

“<I’m not familiar with that beer. Craft brewery?>” he asked.

“Yeah, small and pretty exclusive. Stuff goes down like ambrosia. Dwarves can use it for holy water.”

“<Oh, that must be good stuff!>” he exclaimed. “<Out of pure curiosity, you said you were kidnapped and brought here by Dark Warlocks? For what reason? Ransom?>”

“Well, four days ago I was pregnant and near my due date. Now I’ve got a twelve-inch scar on my belly and no baby on board, so I’m pretty sure that was the reason why.”

Okay, that shocked him more than finding a lovely young woman stumbling out of a Shroudzone. “<They stole your baby?>” he exclaimed, staring at me, probably wondering why I was so calm.

“That or sacrificed it.” Which was also possible, if unlikely. “I woke up nearly dead on a table, cut open like a fish. My Bloodline Awakening is the only thing that saved me.” Which was perfectly acceptable, as a Bloodline, even if not Awakened, was also the powering force behind wizardry.

“<You... seem to be taking it remarkably well...>” he observed.

“You get your baby stolen, your Bloodline Awakened, come back from being clinically dead, kill four of five Sinbound, lose your baby because the last asshole can Shadowjump freely under the Shroud, kill a ghast and bunch of zombies, walk fifteen miles while recovering from a lethal C-section, get hit by a shadow, kill more zombies, ghouls, ghasts, and a wraith, walk another ten miles, and tell me how I should be feeling right now, flyboy.”

He let that go, sensing suddenly that I might be a pretty dangerous person behind the black eyes and elf-blooded beauty.

“<Surviving two nights with the undead is impressive, Miss Traveler>,” he complimented me warily.

“I have other words to describe it, flyboy.” Did I sound tired? I sounded tired. Well, I felt like shit, even if I was mentally alert, aware, and capable. I could do tired.

He eyed the ghoulish blue on my hand and decided to leave off the twenty questions until we got back to the wall.

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I tiredly sat up to get a better look at the thing as we approached.

It was big, a good hundred feet tall, and looked to be formed of pre-made concrete hexagonal blocks, a very good engineering achievement. The top of it was about thirty feet wide, with some basic battlements to take cover against ranged assaults or missile fire, a secure railing at the back side, and some grim soldiers inspecting the Runes that had been etched up and down the facing, probably pre-made on the blocks and then linked up smoothly with a Shape Stone to remove any gaps.

This naturally would have had to be assembled over time, brought in during the day, left there as the builders left, and more brought in the next day.

I didn’t know how long it had taken to build all this, but they’d kept at it pretty good.

I looked up at the haze instinctively. The edge of the Shroud was very close to this place... a couple hundred yards more, and this wall would be swallowed into the Shroud. The Protection from Evil keeping the incorporeals and demons at bay, and most of the spell effects of the undead, would be useless, too. There was a Consecration aura on the whole thing, too... this was holy ground, which would nullify some of the bonuses of the Dark Ministers and undead.

There were gashes and scratches on the surface down closer to the ground, rapidly growing thinner as the wall rose above thirty feet high. Yeah, enough zombies could form ladders over anything, but they were restricted in strength, and this wall looked to have been repeatedly Stone Shaped to be quite smooth, and deny them any handholds.

A hundred-foot zombie ladder would collapse under its own weight. If you had enough numbers you could try to do it with tens of thousands of bodies, but the pile of corpses was going to be asymmetric and want to slide around and collapse, especially as it kept crushing the undead below it and destabilizing. Sliding zombie fun...

By the time they got to the top of the wall, they wouldn’t be able to do much more, and certainly trying to march an army across the pile wasn’t going to work. There was no cover on this side of the wall, and all the stairs were completely exposed.

I saw some holes and nozzles near the top, probably for pumping out gasoline to set alight. The dried-out zombies would probably go up like tinder, and spread quickly, resulting in an inferno of undead burning on the face of the wall.

There was no carbon scoring on the concrete. It must have vanished with the sun... just like all other traces of the undead, save for the impact they’d made on the ground and soil in front of the Wall over time... and the broad landscape leading up to it.

“<Impressed?>” Helix asked with a smile, as I looked it over.

“Good engineering,” I replied, wishing I had those Ranks of Engineering and Architecture and Sculpting right now. “Why don’t they flank you from the waters?” I peered into the distance. “Ah, you have them along the shore. The area of effect must extend them out into the water. You just have to have them long enough that they can’t get around them in one night... and they don’t have to be so high, either.”

He was giving me an odd look. “<You sound like a soldier.>”

I poinked my pointed ear. “It’s like I haven’t grown up being around Powered all my life.” I glanced lazily at him. “You’re not seriously questioning my undead-killing creds at this point, are you?”

“<Hah! No, I think not.>” We were descending towards the tents and rough barrack buildings on the other side, including one with a prominent red cross on it. “<Please excuse me. I’m going to get you checked out on several levels, just to be on the safe side.>”

I waved my good hand lazily. “To be expected. Are they familiar with Shroudborn?”

“<The, um, condition isn’t unknown.>” I smirked despite myself at his tone.

“Hope not. Damn cloud.”