Narg and the Necromancer

Setting Out

It was a little past midnight. The door to Narg’s room burst open with a crash and Narg fell inwards, twisting in the air as he wrestled with the woman in red. Bodies grappled for position, mouths sucked, hands grasped.

They rolled on the floor, a frenzy of desire.

“Wait,” she said, disentangled herself and sliding around to the other side of the bed. Narg pulled himself up and watched. She smiled; a smile of pure debauchery. Narg gasped in admiration, then again as she reached up and undid the dress. It slid to the floor in one smooth motion, revealing a body so superb, so perfect it nearly made him cry. She moved onto the bed on all fours, her magnificent bosoms swaying below in a hypnotic rhythm.

A hand, beckoning… summoning Narg. He struggled with his amour, trying his best to rid himself of this encumbrance and get to the image he saw in front of him. There was something stopping him disrobing fully. It was his sword belt, wrapped around him, holding Bloodletter’s sheath on his back. He fumbled at the strap, eyes still fixed upon the figure. Finally he managed to undo the buckle and throw it off, dislodging Bloodletter from its sheath a fraction as it landed on the floor.

The final obstacle removed he started to move forward, the woman sat back, her breasts gleaming in the dim light with a thin sheen of sweat, her stomach taught. Further down…

…Narg clutched his head as a high pitched scream tore through his mind.

“NO Narg!” It was Bloodletter, freed from the restraints of his sheath. “LOOK!”

Narg looked again. The scene had changed in the blink of an eye. The woman, the image of desire, shifted. No longer a woman, but a she-demon; a Succubus. Her alluring smile now an evil, though still lustful, grin. Long white teeth grinned, ready to tear at flesh. Eyes no longer dark but red... reflections of the hell that had spawned her.

Shadows cloaked the room as the dark of the underworld surrounded them. Her hand, just a moment before beckoning, now became a grasping talon. Demon wings stretched up towards the room’s low ceiling. A stench of brimstone filled the air.

With a shriek the demon launched itself at Narg, who jumped back to avoid the wicked claws. He was too slow to avoid her attack completely; three red lines appeared on his chest. Rolling back he kicked out with his feet. Her momentum carried her forward and with his kick she went shrieking head first into the small cupboard, smashing it to pieces.

It allowed him the few precious moments he needed to grab Bloodletter and regain his feet, just in time to see the Succubus launch herself at him again. This time though, he was ready. She may have been a Demon from the lower hells, but he was a hero with a seriously magical sword. She was a Succubus, a kind who kills with stealth and allure, not in battle.

There was a blur of movement. Claws tore, but the blade bit, and bit deep.

Silence.

Slowly, the she-demon fell back as Bloodletter drank deep of her underworld blood. The spark of red in her eyes slowly died as she sank to the ground. For a moment, just a moment, Narg saw her as the woman again. She smiled a sad smile as if to say; ‘See what you missed?’ And then she died.

                                                                                   ~ * ~

The sun rose, as is its wont, and Narg staggered out of the inn holding his head in both hands. Gorgus and Shogun were waiting outside, as they had agreed the previous day.

“Heavy night?” Gorgus asked.

“You could say so,” mumbled Narg, not wishing to recount his nocturnal misadventure. “Let’s go.”

The three made their way to the city Barracks. Shogun knew his way around the area, so Narg had no need to hire a guide or ask for directions.

They soon arrived at a large compound bustling with activity, despite the early hour. They strode in and, after a brief encounter with the guard for directions, made their way to the building where the Chief could be found. It was obviously a training compound, with various humans and semi-humans hacking away at each other, or practice targets, with wooden weapons. Here and there an instructor would praise or berate a recruit. Narg stopped to watch an elf practice some unarmed combat with a personal trainer, who held a small green goblin on a chain…

“…of course, different creatures have different weaknesses.” The trainer was saying. “Take your average goblin for example,” he paused and jerked the chain causing the goblin, which had been scratching his crotch, to stumble closer. “Thick as two short dwarves they are, but crafty little boggers all the same. Turn your back and they will happily hamstring you and feed upon your liver. Now then, show me what you would do here...” He let the goblin go and gave it a hard kick towards the trainee. The goblin immediately screeched and launched itself at the elf.

The elf countered with a flying kick to the head, only to fall back with a shout of pain. The goblin landed on the elf and bit down snarling… only to be jerked back and kicked to the ground by the trainer, who once again had hold of the leash.

“What are you doing?” the trainer shouted at the elf, who was sat on the floor holding his foot. “You don’t hit a goblin on the farking head! They won’t feel a thing!   Haven’t you learned anything in species class?”

Narg sniggered to himself and moved on.

“Hoy, you!” he shouted at a guard who was leaning on a spear watching the training. “Where can I find Ezal?” The guard nodded his head towards a doorway in the back for way of reply.

They found Chief Ezal in his office. A man of large build, obviously getting on in years. Still, he had the air of someone who could kick the crud with the best of them. A large bastard sword with a wicked looking serrated edge leaned against a desk stacked high with papers.

The chief looked up as Narg entered. He had a long grey beard and hair which stuck out in all directions, making him look a little like a huge dandelion wearing chain mail.

“Waddyou want?” he snarled, “I’m busy.”

“Name’s Narg. My acquaintances and I are going to visit a dark fellow in the mountains. Council said you may give us supplies, and maybe more, in exchange for an errand.”

“Indeed. Mmmm.” Ezal stroked his beard. “Well, can’t hurt I suppose.” He stood and moved closer to Narg, sizing him up. Narg knew here was an old warrior who still had his honour. He smiled to himself. People with honour were so much easier to milk for cash.

“Mmm,” said Ezal again. “My daughter’s missing. She went with an expedition to the mountains and no one has heard of them since. She’s able to take care of herself of course, but still… I’m an old man and she’s my only surviving offspring.”

“Why did she go up to the mountains?” asked Gorgus.

“They were going to confront some undead lord up there. The council was sitting on its a*s doing nothing as usual, so her group decided to act.”

“The council eh?” Narg closed his eyes in thought. Odd.

“In return for your aid, I’m willing to provide you with provisions, and information that may be useful to you. An additional five hundred gold if you bring my daughter back to me.” He looked at Narg. “Alive. What say you adventurer?”

Narg thought about it. “I dunno, let’s say you stump up a couple of hundred now, just to convince me it’s worth looking, eh?”

The militia chief looked at him, distaste evident on his face. Then he sighed. “What can I expect from mercenaries? Fair enough barbarian, but I expect you to do your job, or I will take it upon myself to extract the money from your hide.”

He walked to a small door in the back of his office. “Wait.” He commanded, and after opening the door with a key, disappeared behind it. A few minutes later he returned and threw a small purse at Narg, who caught and opened it, to reveal the gold within.

“Fair enough old man. Now then, tell us more of your daughter and her friends.”

Ezal bristled at Narg, but sat down at his desk and related his tale.

“We’ve known of a dark wizard who’s set-up base in an old tower to the north for some time now. He wasn’t deemed a great threat, and we had other problems at the time, so we left him alone. However recently we’ve been losing people, merchants and militia alike, along the road to the northern pass. We’ve had sightings of undead and other creatures around there. The council didn’t deem the matter important enough to do anything about, despite my warnings, so my daughter, who is a trained mage and a member of the militia herself, decided to investigate. She went with two of my best guards, and another fighter that the council insisted should accompany them.”

“I thought the council wasn’t interested?” Asked Shogun.

Ezal shrugged and carried on. “They set off and no-one has heard of them since. They planned on following the path north until they came to an old shack. There the path veers east, so the logical route would be to leave the trail and travel north through the forest.”

“How far is this tower?” Asked Narg.

“That’s the problem. No one seems to know exactly. I mean everyone knows it is there, somewhere in the mountains to the north, just not the exact location.”

 “Great.” Narg said. “Very well, we’ll find your daughter for you. First though, the council said you could furnish us with supplies. We’ll need travelling rations and other items. I have a list…”