Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 20

Lynch’s Journal #135

Rushing to the bungalows I feel it in my gut that Tuskgutter is here. By the looks of the trail he is moving at a slow pace through Diamond Lagoon. What concerns me is there is no sign of Slukx with him. Maybe he went to the other side of the lake?

Caught up in the chaos of the slaughter Balasar and I had found causes me to lose focus. Something solid trips my feet under the snow, planting me face first in the cold. Pushing myself up I notice small specks of red in the drift as the copperborn rolls over the dead body of a male human.

Something sharp had been ran through the poor fellow multiple times. The heavy snow falling around us had covered up his body just enough so we could not see him. His warm blood has already melted

the snow underneath, a clear sign we are getting closer.

As we move around the next bungalow we discover the source of the broken glass. Covered in tiny cuts, a male dwarf is nailed to tree clinging on to life. A spear holds him firm in place as he struggles to free himself. Lithia yells out to him, bringing a smile of hope to his face as blood trickles into his beard. Within arms reach of healing that hope rapidly fades as the bearded fellow points ahead during his final breath.

A bow shot away something as large as Balasar marches through the heavy snow. Coveralls hide the identity and a burlap sack covers its head. It wields a bloody shortsword as it stalks up to the next home.

Tuskgutter.

As it ignores my screaming for him to stop, Princess Frost goes into summoning her arcane power. A rippling spiral of color darts forward to strike the creature.

Nothing.

The rest of us charge forward as Lithia goes into another casting. Amon slows down to protect her as she informs us there is no control the thing’s mind. Balasar’s divine sense detects the reason why the sorceress’ magic has failed but I already know. Tuskgutter is just like the abomination we had battled when looking for the Bringers of Woe. He is a walking collection of slaughtered orcs stitched together.

An undead.

With the thick snow covering the ground we will never catch him before he enters the bungalow. Prince Frost and the paladin shout warnings to whoever may be inside. Once again, Lithia draws power from the Weave by summoning fire into her hands.

Not slowing my pace, I summon the earthy magic taught to me by Nataku. My friend had used this spell many times in the woods around Red Larch to leap high into trees. The elf had shown me that with a running start the magic could launch you like a javelin. I have never done so myself but I have to stop Tuskgutter. Seeing no choice I cast and fling myself forward.

It happens fast.

Faster than I expected.

Hurtling toward the enemy, my arms and legs flail around. That bastard Nataku should have warned me of this. I swear I can hear the druid laughing.

Bringing my gifts from Nathanos to bear, I struggle to right myself on my collision course with Tuskgutter.

This is going to hurt.

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