A plan of battle

Previously: Freelance historian Esmiralda and her companions--Merrick, a member of the Ministry of Human Preservation (MOHP), Broo-Fang Tane, an Optimist Monk, and Seymuhr, a brutish but somewhat dim-witted warrior called the Skullsquasher, have received a final clue in their search for the undead witch Abilene, who once served the ancient pirate Harfigorn. They follow the Trail of the Dead to uproot her evil, once and for all, and are now planning their assault on the witch's lair...

Night fell, and I found the darkness even more terrifying. The sky was enshrouded by a thick blanket of clouds that made the valley below as black as a put. We could still hear the dead shuffling in their tireless pattern and hear the terrible, mournful sounds that gurgled forth from their ruined throats. I strained to see and thought my eyes would pop out of my skull.

"I still say we should leave, go to the nearest city and come back with an army," I hissed. "Our task seems no easier now--just the opposite."

We had stayed hidden throughout the day while Broo Fang Tane and Baram scouted for the best possible avenue of attack and that fact alone was enough to worry me. While we sought this place out, we were continually beset by the rotting dead. Now that we were so close, they ignored us? I suspected a trap, and gave voice to my fears, but my concerns were ignored by my companions.  

"She knows we're here," I reminded them.

"Think of her as an 'it,'" Merrick answered. "De-humanize the thing you fear."

"It knows we're here," I repeated. "And that did not help, at all."

"Stay close to me," Seymurh said. His voice always sounded like he spoke through an extended belch and his whisper was like the slight scrape of stick on stone. "I will keep you safe."

"I suspect I will only slow you down." At least, that's what I hoped. Our only hope at fighting our way through a battalion of biting, grasping dead things was Seymuhr. If he went down, we would be quickly overrun and torn apart. I fingered the Traveling Stone through my shirt. It was a small smooth stone the shape of an oyster that had been worn through decades, if not centuries, of use. The potent charm imbued in it would conjure a being that would transport you anywhere in Korrin, when you rubbed the stone and spoke the word. It had been given to me several years ago by a priest in exchange for a good deed. He had warned me that all magic has its limits, all tricks had their ends and advised me to use it sparingly, lest it not be functional when I truly needed it. My companions did not know I possessed it. We had been through many struggles during our short time together, but I was not ye ready to share all my secrets.

"We will go together, and watch out for each other," Merrick said, a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I nodded.

We had decided on a three-pronged attack. Tane would slink down near the side of the mountain to the west, where he said he had discovered a very narrow and tricky crevice--perhaps the remnants of an ancient creek that had long gone dry. Seymuhr would go down the eastern slope as quietly as his short, bulky body would allow. Merrick and I would pick our way down the center of the valley, using whatever cover we could to avoid detection and destruction. Baram had simply said she would meet us near the opening and left it at that. If any of us was discovered or attacked on the way to the cave, Seymuhr would unleash his maces on the unliving enemy.

It was as good a plan as we could devise. Still my heart rattled and my chest felt tight. I gripped my knife and looked at each of my companions in turn.

"This evil has stained the land too long," Merrick reminded us. "Let us put an end to it."