Vincent burst from the trap door and flung himself forward. His foot sank into mud and sent him slamming into the ground. The forest floor was stained various tones of black and red where live and undead blood had flooded the clearing, transforming it into a quagmire of fetid blood soaked mud. The scholar slid through copper scented muck as he struggled to regain his footing.
After floundering for a moment, the youth righted himself and glanced around. The previous fight was devastating. Hordes of undead threw themselves blindly against the storm of razor sharp leaves that were Big Bertha. Those that met the smaller golems had simply found themselves torn apart, leaving limbs and entrails floating in the muck. Shuddering, Vincent began to slog forward. His legs buried to mid-calf, each step letting out a sickening slurping sound.
His stomach churned as the smell of rot and blood assaulted him. He scrunched his nose up and gagged slightly. He gritted his teeth and picked up the pace. With each quickened step, the ground belched and slurped until he finally reached the edge of the clearing where the ground was less…
Bloody.
Once his feet found solid purchase Vincent found himself flying down the trail at a blistering speed. Gnarled tree trunks with twisted branches faded into a scarlet blur as the scholar expertly navigated the familiar path. The scholar memorized the location of each root that jutted into the path, loose rocks that could turn his ankle, and every obstacle in his way. There was nothing that could stop him, except the zombie swinging a club into the path.
A sharp pain erupted through the scholar’s torso as the club shattered with a loud crack. Shards of wood splintered and shot through the air as the scholar stumbled, coughing. Three half decomposed men leapt from the branches above, swinging makeshift clubs over their heads. Stunned, the scholar clenched his eyes shut and burst into a flash of blue light, only to reappear several feet away. Growling, he drew his cane and twirled it as he assessed his situation.
Four undead, three armed with branches, one disarmed.
His other hand drew his sword as he dashed forward and slashed at the unarmed zombie. His blade cleaved through its torso and hacked the fiend in half. The other three groaned in unison and charged Vincent.
The scholar grinned and lunged forward, leading with his cane in front of him. Two strikes knocked the flanking fiends aside leaving only the center foe to fall to Vincent’s blade. With two quick slices the zombie’s head flew upwards with a fountain of blood gushing from its neck.
The other two swung blindly at a cloud of sparks as Vincent reappeared behind them with a smirk. His blade flashed and his foes fell before him in pieces. He grunted as he regarded the corpses with disdain before stretching and heading off in the same direction once more.
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