Cat Core, Chapter 29.

Chapter 29.

“It is time,” was all the woman dressed in dark robes said to the large Warband gathered around her. A bonfire blazed in the forest clearing they had gathered in, the faithful, the honored ones, and the prey, all were here, and her’s was the hand that would guide them. Her people had secretly arrived over the last few days, slipping in from villages, towns, and nearby farms to answer the call of their god. That she alone knew the voice of Kunrax was never questioned, she was blessed and had all the stigmata to prove herself as the chosen voice of the master.

“This honored one has brought word of the abomination, a foe that we are called to destroy,” she gestured to the battered hound that followed by her side. It had arrived from the nearby dungeon, a dungeon her followers had investigated based on the rumors of what inhabited that vile creation. The foe, the favored prey, were growing inside the womb of the dungeon, an affront to Kunrax, the Hound in the Night. Dungeons were difficult targets to challenge, most had grown too large, were too powerful, or too well defended by the guild for her servants to destroy.

Her master, her god was the one to snatch souls to their final torment and judgment, but these dungeons each represented a soul that had evaded Kunrax. Her task in this life, the one that would spare her own soul from the jaws of judgment, was to destroy these abominations. This command had been one of frustration for the woman who had given everything, including her name, in the service to her master. Her power was too little, her followers too weak to challenge the abominations, but now, they had a chance.

This new dungeon was to be the test of her faith. It contained a soul that was so depraved it had selected as its defender the most offensive of creatures to her master, it had selected cats. Finally, there was a foe that was within her power to destroy, a dungeon that was new and weak, ripe for judgment. This night would see the end to the cat dungeon and secure her salvation and the salvation of all her followers, should they remain faithful. Gathered before her were those with impossible stains upon their souls, and their only hope was in placating the master, Kunrax. Should they fall in this fight, the Hound in the Night would pass them by, allowing them to ascend to a reward they didn’t deserve.

Low chanting began from the chosen followers. The majority that had gathered were simple folk, unable to access a class or develop anything more than simple abilities. A core group of the chosen were more powerful, they had been touched by their god and could manipulate magic or martial abilities just like an adventurer. The simple followers would clear the way for her core group, they would open the door to the dungeon and allow her inside to cleanse it of the corruption. Before she could do that, before the fight could begin, she needed to make a final gesture to her god. She would give all that she had to become his Avatar, securing her place in paradise and ensuring that the gaze of Kunrax would pass her by when judgment came.

“Bring the sacrifices,” she ordered. Three screaming captives were dragged toward the bonfire. In front of the fire, three poles had been driven into the ground and her followers tied the sacrifices there, ignoring their screams and pleas for mercy. There would be no mercy this night, there could be none. For her to grant these few souls mercy would ensure that her own soul was condemned for eternity. She was past mercy anyway; it was a weak emotion that only served to cloud her purpose

She began to weave magic around the sacrifices, her powers boosted by their master for this night’s work. The mana reached into the sacrifices, snaring their souls and tying them to her and the honored one. Their screaming and pleading began anew, the process was not a painless one. She could have silenced them with a word, but their cries of terror would only add to her power and even now she could feel the bonds between them tighten as their fear overcame any resistance to the forces that she was exerting on them.

The sacrifices were bound to her, and the honored one. She now began to link the honored one to her as well. Such a magnificent beast, the honored one harbored such a sweet hatred for this dungeon that had defeated it. Its hate was delicious, and she welcomed it into herself and it fed her magic, just as the terror of the sacrifices had. Over her efforts, she could see something else join in, a black tendril of mana from her master added its power to her ritual, his blessing was upon her, it was time for the next step.

“Bring the honored one,” she commanded. The battered hound that had escaped with word of this cat dungeon abomination walked forward. There was no need to drag it kicking and screaming like the sacrifices, it knew its purpose and like her, it looked forward to what it would become. Saliva dripped from its scarred maw in anticipation of the next part of the ritual.

“Honored one, let your jaws become the jaws of the master, take these souls and use their power for our purpose,” she ordered. The hound leaped forward tearing into the sacrifices. It’s brutal attack soon silenced their screams of terror. Her followers cut down the corpses, dragging them at the feet of the honored one. Their empty husks had one final purpose to serve. She struggled only briefly, her will pushing against that of the honored one who wished to consume his kill. While she couldn’t order the honored one, she filled its mind with the vision of what their true purpose was this night. The hound reluctantly waited, willing to put its hunger aside for now in anticipation of the greater feast that awaited them.

“I make my ascension and will lead the Avatar toward our prey. Do not lose sight of the deed that must be accomplished this night,” she ordered. The woman renewed her chanting, offering everything she had to the master, pulling the mana from her body, the mana she had stored for so long inside. The blessed hound stood atop his victims and she walked to its side, resting her hand on the hound’s hackles.

“Honored one, accept my offering, join with your prey,” she pleaded, manipulating the mana as the master directed. The honored one howled loudly, the sound wasn’t the mournful cry of a dog baying at the moon, this was a howl of power, a howl accepting what she offered. Mana writhed around the hound and corpses, gathering them together. Light filled her vision as the mana continued to flow, blinding the Warband around her and concealing the work of Kunrax. This was a rare and blessed event, one that should not be viewed by these soiled mortals.

She felt her body change as she merged with the hound and the sacrifices. As the last of her mana flowed out, so did her life. Her life was no longer needed, only her will was required. Her will would drive the Avatar of Kunrax, the honored one would provide the form, and the sacrifices would provide the power. She had become more than a human, more than a blessed hound, she had become the instrument of the dungeon’s destruction and either its soul or hers would be dragged down into judgment this night. Those last thoughts faded as her mind joined with Avatar, her will existed now only to drive the Avatar and its followers toward its goal.

***

“Woah, this is not good,” Roland whispered, looking at the monster that had just been created. He remembered Korbo telling them about the party with the big hound that had assaulted them and cut in line, but this was something else entirely. His eyes slowly adjusted back, regaining his night vision after being nearly blinded by the light given off by from ritual he had just witnessed.

“What do we do now? This looks like some kind of cult and it’s bad news if we get caught out here,” Nala said.

“We need to head back to the town and warn everyone, that’s no band of adventurers looking to cut in line, that’s more like an army,” Roland said as the massed forces began to cheer and chant at the monster standing in their midst. The hound, three dead prisoners, and the mage lady were gone, in their place stood a monster dog the size of a bull. To make things even more horrifying, the monster dog had three heads. The two outer heads were overgrown versions of a normal dog’s head, but the middle head was something from a nightmare.

Looking out over the crowd of chanting cultists, the middle head of the monster dog wasn’t canine, it was the woman mage that had cast whatever spell that had created this thing. Her head wasn’t normal, it had an oversized jaw filled with fangs just like the other two heads, but its other features were definitely human.

“I am the Avatar of Kunrax, look upon me, and know your chance at salvation is at hand. Go, sweep these so-called adventurers from your path, destroy their town, and then follow me into the dungeon. The abomination of the cat core ends tonight!” The middle head shouted, finishing its speech with a howl that her assembled followers joined.

“Hurry, we don’t have much time,” Roland said, pulling Nala back from the spectacle in front of them. “Run back to the town and warn everyone. I’ll try to get an exact count on what we’re facing before I head back. Nala fled into the darkness as Roland tried to get a handle on what was coming for their town and the dungeon that supported it.

The monster was easy enough to spot, but he lost count of the others after reaching two hundred. Maybe when they started moving, he could get a better feel for their numbers and gear. The longer they stood around chanting and hollering the better as far as he was concerned. It looked like the monster dog was trying to get everyone organized now, their howling party was ending.

A dozen large humans led even larger dogs toward the group. The mob organized themselves around these dog handlers dividing up into somewhat equal numbers. Their attempts at organization made things easier for Roland as he noted each group’s makeup. The dog handlers were odd, they seemed to be controlled by their dogs and not the other way around as he would have expected. Each of the handlers wore bits at pieces of leather armor that looked worn and dingy, their upper bodies were unarmored and painted in various patterns that hurt Roland’s eyes if he tried to focus on them.

Gathered around each hound was a gaggle of armed warriors. Most were wearing regular clothing and no armor. These carried a variety of weapons, the majority of which were only sharpened farm implements. A half dozen or so in each group were better equipped and carried themselves like true warriors. These more competent members of the mob were armed with real weapons, all held oversized axes, swords, hammers, and clubs. They wore leather armor studded with various bits of metal to give them extra protection.

Standing next to each hound was a more disturbing opponent. Each group had a man or woman in tattered robes that screamed mage to Roland. Caster’s were easy enough to fight, a few well-placed arrows could take them down before they could do much harm. These mages would be surrounded by a swarm of meat shields, their mad followers would block line of sight and allow them time to work their magic. Letting a mage have time to cast their spells was never a good thing.

He didn’t wait around for the mob to begin their attack; he knew where they were going and didn’t think they would be disciplined enough to do anything other than had straight toward the town and dungeon. Roland needed to do something to slow them down, he needed to buy Nala time to get the warning out. There were several other adventuring groups camped in and around the town. How many of those would be willing to risk their lives to defend their livelihood, Roland couldn’t guess. He didn’t think the workers, shopkeepers, and the like would fight, but he needed to give them time to make it to safety.

Roland knew that Ben hired a few “workers” that were exceptionally burly and too well-armed to be anything other than some security for his growing business. Whether they would pitch in with the coming fight was unknown. He supposed that he wasn’t really sure anyone would want to fight; it was a frightening number of foes and they were all there just to make some coin and perhaps a name for themselves as adventurers. Still, if their source of income were destroyed, as these cultists had claimed was their goal, he would hope many would fight to protect their livelihoods.

He made his way around the edge of the group, falling back toward the town but stopping to use his ranger skills when he could. Roland hadn’t had much luck finding any game trails near the growing town which was why he had led Nala further into the woods. The lack of game trails meant he still had all the snares and traps in his pack that he had brought to help them catch something to eat. Many of the traps were simple snares designed for rabbits and the like, not people or monster dogs. Despite many of his traps not being useful in this situation, he still had a few that were designed for larger game. He began to set the traps along the likely avenues of approach.

The mob of cultists didn’t look like they were going to make a careful approach toward the dungeon, and he would be shocked if they suspected that any dangers were waiting for them on the way to their objective. Roland set a pair of tripwires at ankle height, angled to make any victim land on a set of sharpened wood spikes he placed nearby. In addition to the tripwires, he had an old bear trap that he had scrounged up from Ben’s shop for a pittance. He tried to camouflage it carefully and hoped the giant, three-headed dog would be the one to step into it.

With the last of the surprises set, he made his retreat toward town. Already he could hear the mob of cultists begin to move out. They weren’t exactly being quiet in their approach, but thankfully, they also weren’t moving very fast. It was hard to get that many folks going in the same direction, even if you had monster dogs leading them.