Death: Genesis

Zeke stood over the contraption, studying it with a skeptical eye. “Do we really think this thing’s going to work?” he asked.

Baros, one of the former slaves who’d been supervising construction, looked back with a grin and answered, “Probably.”

“That’s not…that doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence,” Zeke said.

Baros was one of the few dwarves among the former slaves, and to Zeke’s eye, he looked little different from most of the other uncorrupted dwarves he’d ever met. With a long, blonde beard that he wore tucked into his belt and a shiny, bald head, he was easy to pick out of a crowd, though.

But more important than his appearance was his profession. Before he’d been abducted by the dwarves of Min Ferilik, he’d worked as an engineer, and before that, he’d spent quite some time in his home nation’s army building siege engines. Zeke hadn’t gotten the full story of how he’d ended up in the mines, which wasn’t terribly surprising. Most of the ones who’d chosen to stay in the tower wanted nothing more than to move on from their old lives, and for a wide variety of reasons. That forward-facing philosophy was one Zeke could get behind, if only because it meant that they were fully committed to the tower residents’ success.

However, Zeke was far more interested in the contraption the man had been building. Constructed of wood harvested from recently felled trees, the device’s shape was immediately recognizable as a catapult, though one larger than what Zeke might have expected. In fact, it was sized perfectly to hurl a human body.

“I’m kiddin’, lad,” said Baros. “It’ll work, don’t ye doubt it for a second.”

Zeke recognized a few minor enchantments on the siege engine. One was on the base of the machine, and it was clearly intended to enhance the catapult’s durability. Sensible. But the one on the spring mechanism that would provide power were slightly more complicated. If Zeke was reading them right – no guarantee, considering that he had little experience or aptitude for that facet of runecrafting – those runes were intended to increase the torsion to incredible levels.

That meant that, when the catapult was activated, it would hurl its payload with astonishing force. And considering that Zeke himself was the intended ammunition, that was a little troubling.

But as anxious as he might be, it was probably the only viable plan that wouldn’t result in hundreds, if not thousands of dead allies. And Zeke couldn’t stomach that. So, if it meant that he had to put himself in danger – or into an unproven contraption designed to hurly him across a battlefield at ridiculous speeds – then he would gladly make that trade. Still, he couldn’t claim that he wasn’t at least a little nervous.

So, he watched as Baros and a few of his helpers put the finishing touches on the catapult. None of them were particularly talented enchanters, but the runecrafting was solid enough to elevate the thing to an entirely different level. Still, Baros kept muttering about what he could do with proper materials.

Zeke couldn’t help but shudder at the idea of magically enhanced engines of war.

Eventually, Baros announced, “She’s ‘bout as ready as I can get her. She’ll do the job, make no mistake ‘bout that. But she definitely ain’t gonna be pretty about it.”

Zeke nodded and said, “So long as it gets me where I need to go, that’s all that matters.”

With that, he left the dwarf to his contraption and headed back to the command tent where he informed the Mistress of the Herd and her advisors of the intended schedule. If they didn’t do their part, Zeke would be hung out to dry with an entire army of hill giants howling for his blood. So, he wanted to ensure they understood the timeline.

After Rasa assured him that she and her people would do their part, Zeke left them behind and headed through the gate and into the tower, where he met with Silik and the other kobold centurions. Each one loomed over Zeke by at least a few feet, though their demeanor was fully acquiescent. In any case, they took their orders and quickly moved off to ready the kobold army.

Over the next couple of hours, the entire camp was awash with chaotic movement as centaurs, kobolds, and former slaves all busied themselves with preparations for the coming assault. For his part, Zeke settled in near the catapult and meditated; he was in charge, but the various pieces of the army were more than capable of functioning without his input. So, he left them to their tasks.

Eventually, though, the time came, and at a touch on his shoulder, Zeke pushed himself back to his feet and surveyed the assembled force. Thousands of centaurs. Nearly ten thousand kobolds. A hundred or so former slaves. It was a daunting force, but he couldn’t help but wonder how they would fare in the impending battle.

The giants were strong, and the only reason Zeke and his army had made as much progress as they had was via subterfuge and surprise. Neither would be on their side with what was coming.

People would die. He knew it, and so did the members of the army. But they were willing to chance it because they believed in the cause.

“They believe in you. They don’t care about anything else,” Eveline pointed out. And for better or worse, Zeke couldn’t disagree.

He watched as ten kobold legionnaires stepped forward, grabbed the catapult by the handles Baros had built into the machine, then advanced. As they maneuvered it into position, two things happened. First, the giants on the walls fired down on them, though their projectiles fell just short. Second, the rest of the army followed the catapult, positioning themselves appropriately on either side of the catapult.

Once everyone was in position, Zeke climbed atop the thing, then raised his voice. “Everyone here knows what to do. We all know what’s at stake. Do your job, protect one another, and we’ll win. Above all, keep pushing. Keep putting one step in front of the other. One more charge. One more swing. One more skill. String enough of those together, and we’ll be victorious.”

With that, he climbed into the catapult’s bucket – which was really just a shallow bowl about three feet wide – and clutched his knees to his chest.

“Good speech,” Eveline remarked.

“Thanks.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know.”

She let out an annoyed huff at Zeke’s lack of reaction, but he paid it no mind. Instead, he nodded to Baros, who wore a wide grin that, to Zeke, seemed altogether disturbing. He didn’t have much time to regret his choices before the blonde-bearded dwarf raised one thick arm, then let it fall. That’s when one of his assistants pulled the release lever, and the machine did precisely what it was intended to do.

The arm shot forward, flinging Zeke through the air with more speed than he could have expected. But he wasn’t paying attention to that. Instead, he was busy activating the unattuned form of [Triune Colossus]. Even as his body transformed into the metallic, statue-like version of his colossal form, Zeke reduced his weight via his racial gift. He sailed through the air, moving so quickly that the giants on the wall failed to hit him with most of their ballistae-like crossbow bolts.

But most was not all, and a few clipped him on the way, slowing him significantly enough that he knew he wouldn’t make it all the way to the wall. That wasn’t unexpected, though. He’d always known that the catapult would only get him most of the way there. For the rest of the distance, he was on his own.

He hit the rocky ground, the impact digging a shallow trench in the terrain before, a dozen or so feet later, he rolled to a stop. But Zeke wasn’t going to stop there. Instead, he quickly sprang to his feet, bounded to the left to avoid an incoming projectile, then raced forward as fast as his colossal legs could carry him.

Every step thundered into the rocky terrain, and before long, the giants had managed to adjust their aim. Hundreds of spear-sized projectiles tore through the air, and as they bore down on him, Zeke cradled his head in his arms. One speared through his shoulder. The next hit him in the leg, causing him to stumble. Another clipped his side. But still, he kept going. The plan required it.

Finally, he drew within range and, at last, activated [Shifting Sands]. Instantly, his body became incorporeal, and he sank into the earth. At the same time, the crossbow bolts that had been embedded in his body lost their purchase and fell away. As Zeke propelled his insubstantial form forward through the ground, he looked up to see that the sky full of projectiles looked as if it had been frozen in time.

Mostly.

They still moved, inch by inch, but it was so slow that they looked almost stationary.

Zeke tore his attention away from the curiosity – after all, he’d grown used to the skill’s strange effect on perceived time – and flung himself across the distance separating him from the massive gate.

When he reached the thing – it was huge, even by the standards of hill giants – he erupted from the ground and, even as the earth was sundered by his reappearance, he swung his hammer with every ounce of force he could muster. Voromir’s head thundered into the ironbound gate, but the attack didn’t even leave a scuff mark on the wooden beams that had been used in its construction.

Runes, only visible to Zeke because of his path of Arcane Destruction, flared to life, flickering with power.

That was expected, though.

At that moment, he summoned three different types of mana – destructive corruption, stable earth, and personal – weaving them around one another and holding them in place with his Will. Instantly, the disparate forces tried to escape his control, but he clamped down with the entirety of his willpower, forcing the Runebreaker technique into being. The second it coalesced, he wrapped it around his hammer and swung again.

The runes shattered.

An explosion of mana and force sent Zeke rocketing backwards, and he tumbled, flipping across the terrain for almost a hundred feet. But when he regained his footing, he looked up to see that the once mighty gate had been sundered. A huge crack ran diagonally across the banded surface, then spread out in the shape of the runes that had once protected it.

But more importantly, the gate was now vulnerable. So, Zeke once again charged forward – enduring the sudden barrage of crossbow bolts that had begun to fall upon him – and shoulder-charged the gate. He hit it with the force of a battering ram, knocking the thing from its hinges. It fell with an enormous clatter, exposing the stronghold’s courtyard.

Hundreds of giants – maybe thousands – had been stationed just on the other side of the gate, so Zeke found himself staring at an army that could – and would – bury him under the metaphorical weight of numbers as well as the physical mass of their enormous bodies. He was strong and durable, but so were the giants. And Zeke knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t survive a fight against so many.

Not alone.

So, it was a good thing that his army was already on their way.

Zeke had been intended as the siegebreaker. A human – or cambion, rather – battering ram meant to break the stronghold’s defenses. He had accomplished that feat, but now, he was exposed. And that wasn’t going to change until his army managed to close the distance with the walls.

So, without any other options, Zeke embraced [Hell Geyser] and, with a might stomp, sent a line of sundered earth tearing across the ground. It reached the gathered army of hill giants, then erupted in a pillar of hellfire, molten lava, and piercing earth. Those at the epicenter were instantly killed, and even those at the edge of the forty-foot diameter were thrown aside.

Zeke used it as a distraction. But he didn’t retreat. No – he launched himself into the fray, swinging his hammer with ruthless ferocity. Each attack broke bones. Every swing added to the confusion and panic enveloping the hill giant army. Zeke embraced it with all the fervor of a berserker, letting his battle instincts take over until, at last, the first line of charging centaurs joined the battle.

They swept into the hill giants, impaling their ancestral enemies on long lances. Behind them came the kobolds, each one wreathed in blinding light and wielding their short spears with vicious efficiency.

Somewhere in the background, Zeke heard the insistent beat of Jasper’s skills, and he was infused with energy. At the same time, Pudge made his presence known with copious use of [Hellfire]. He was like a mobile turret, bathing the enemy in destructive, red-and-black flames.

But Zeke couldn’t keep track of all of his allies. Instead, he could only catch glimpses, here and there as he turned the bulk of his attention on the battle at hand.

Thus, the battle descended into familiar chaos as centaurs, kobolds, and giants waged war against one another. And in the center, Zeke stood like an enduring anchor. Eventually, he embraced the earthen version of [Triune Colossus]. As durable as the unattuned version was, it was still incapable of standing up to the barrage he was forced to endure. But with the earth-fueled version, he was more than capable of taking whatever punishment the giants could dish out.

However, even with all the endurance in the world, damage was inevitable. And he’d leaned on his ability to self-heal since the very beginning, when he’d taken [Leech Strike] and used it to keep himself alive in the troll caves where he’d been reborn. So, he made copious use of [Cambion’s Awakening].

On and on the battle went, and Zeke lost track of how many giants he put down. At some point, he gained a level. Then another. And another after that. But still, he fought. Vaguely, he was aware that many of his allies fell as well, and yet, even though casualties were expected, Zeke lamented each and every death.

The desperate monotony of the battle wore on until, at last, something changed.

Zeke barely saw the descent of the huge axe in time to dodge to the side. Still, it clipped his shoulder, sending him spinning in place before he managed to regain his balance. That was when he saw a giant looming over him.

In his earthen colossal form, Zeke was close to fourteen feet tall. But even so, the giant bearing down on him was at least a head taller, and he somehow managed to be even bulkier with rippling muscles. Even though Zeke was literally made of rock and earth, the hill giant seemed the sturdier of the two.

Clearly, Zeke found himself at odds with the giants’ champion. And with a roar, he met the huge creature’s charge with one of his own.