You are Summoned

Taking in a breath, I gagged as the foul stench of the creature on top of me permeated the air. I closed several of the viewports where the flesh of the creature had started to bulge inside the small openings. This wasn’t just some giant humanoid that the necromancer had raised this time. It was not quite as large, but its skin was covered in rotting feathers, not regular flesh.

Screams of pain were heard from the gnomes as the monster started to lift itself off me. It wasn’t moving to let me up for some chance fair combat, nope, it only wanted enough room to start tearing into the armor of my mech. As it reared back, I caught a glimpse of the undead creation as its beak slammed into the shoulder joint of the arm holding the spear.

It was a horrifying mix of bird and maybe a bear of some type. Oddly enough, it didn’t have that stitched together look that the other undead creatures this necromancer had sent at us had. Instead, it looked like this monster resembled the creature it had been back when it was living. The numerous old wounds and bite marks showed that it too must have been ambushed by the undead and turned not that long ago.

Whatever it was, it managed to crumple the metal shoulder joint with a single bite. Behind the monster, another cloud of the yellowish-green gas moved over the gnomes that had rallied to my defense. Our mage was casting something to counter the spell, but I could see several of my allies had fallen, and a few were twitching in the first stages of reanimation.

The monster gave up on trying to bite through my shoulder, and instead held me down with one arm while clawing at my mechs chest with the other. My arm with the spear wasn’t responding, but the undamaged magic missile launcher was still in business. I began to trigger missile after missile, each shot penetrating deep into its undead flesh. Eventually, the barrage of magic missiles would wear down my foe, but it didn’t look like I was going to have that kind of time.

Again, the monster’s head, with its giant beak, snapped forward. This time, the creature was targeting my mech’s chest. The impact knocked me around inside the mech, the padding inside the cockpit and the new armor I wore managed to keep me from getting knocked unconscious. A large dent appeared in the armor, the metal of which was now pushing uncomfortably against my chest.

Another hit or two and I’d be crushed to death inside my own mech. I had one last option, the blunderbuss. As the monster reared back for another strike, I lifted the weapon and placed it against the monster’s neck. The barrel glowed red with heat as it ignited the flame stones inside. A brief sizzle of undead flesh gave off a scent that smelled vaguely like rotted chicken just before the weapon fired.

The results were catastrophic, for both the undead beast, and my mech. Blasted completely off the monster, its head went sailing off into the nearby stream. It looked like the blunderbuss wasn’t designed to be fired right up against the target, and the barrel that I had fired was blasted completely off the mount. The arm itself was jammed as the forces exerted against it must have bent something important.

Tottering back a few steps, the undead beast collapsed near my mech, but thankfully, not on top of it. It burst open with a fresh cloud of putrid gas, which was drifting my way. I struggled to open the cockpit, but I was jammed inside. From the chest of the monster, I noticed a figure in dark robes drop down.

It was the necromancer. Somehow, he had been inside the thing, piloting it like it was an undead mech of sorts. The cloud of gas was almost to me, and it was blocking the necromancer from the gnomes’ line of sight. I had a chance before he left the arc of fire for my magic missile launcher. The missile flew true and slammed the necromancer in the back. A red glow appeared around the man on impact, a magical shield of some sort protecting him.

I fired as quickly as I could, one missile after another. The second round shattered the shield, and before he could move out of range, my next shot hammered into his back, knocking him down. Gas was seeping into my mech, burning and rotting every bit of flesh it touched, but I needed just one more shot to finish this. Another missile launched, hitting the necromancer in the head as he stood up. As powerful a spellcaster as he was, nobody could survive having half their head blown off, and he collapsed to the ground.

Horrible pain seared into my lungs as I tried to close the open viewing slots in an effort to stem the tide of gas entering my mech. I could hear gnomes shouting outside and some clanging on the shell of my mech as I choked on the foul fumes and my vision faded out. I expected my summons to end at this point, but I lingered there in half-conscious pain.

A feeling of comforting warmth spread over me, and I drifted off into a deep sleep. I don’t know how long I remained in that state, I recall waking briefly as someone forced water into my parched mouth. Each time I woke, my lungs burned with each painful breath, and my vision was blocked by thick bandages around my eyes.

The pattern continued, and eventually, the pain in my lungs lessened, and I was able to remain conscious for more than a few moments. Gnomish voices tried to talk to me, but I was still delirious and unable to comprehend what they were saying. The next time I woke, a system prompt appeared in front of me.

You have survived the curse of undeath and have built your natural immunity against further instances of this type of damage. This is the first resistance you have acquired, and it will now be listed in your personal information. Your status is as follows.

Rico Kline, Summoned Being.

Tier 0, Rank 7.

Experience/experience needed for next rank: 4/15.

Summoning points: 15.

Mana, 15/15.

Mana core upgrades:

Rift travel containment field.

Skills:

Basic mace weapon skill.

Abilities:

Linguistic adaptation interface.

Riposte.

Open.

Resistances:

Curse of Undeath, minor.

Currently Equipped Gear.

Simple dagger. Gear cost 5.

Simple mace. Gear cost 10.

Padded leather armor. Gear cost, 25.

Spell Book:

Cantrips.

Psionic Jolt. Mana cost 2. Gear cost 5.

Tier 0 spells:

Fail Weapons. Mana cost 4. Gear cost 10.

My status screen was more extensive than the last time I’d viewed it. The new resistance to the curse of undeath was rated as minor, so I figured that I would still take damage and possibly die from it. The resistance should at least give me a fighting chance against it, and maybe not make my recovery so painful and long.

The padded leather armor the gnomes had made for me was listed under my currently equipped gear. Sadly, I probably wouldn’t get to take it with me back to my personal space. At least it gave me an idea of the gear cost of similar armor. I had to assume that padded leather was on the lower end of the armor scale, and at a cost of 25, I could see heavier, more intricate armor becoming very expensive to equip.

“Hello, anyone out there?” I asked after dismissing the system information.

“Rico, are you awake? Hold on, let me get these bandages off,” a gnome who’s voice I didn’t recognize said. Light slowly appeared as the bandages were unrolled. Thankfully, it was night, but even the moonlight above and a nearby torch caused me to squint a bit. I was lying on some blankets in the back of one of the wagons, and it appeared that we were stopped for the night.

“What happened?” I asked.

“The necromancer’s gas spell almost killed you, along with more of our soldiers. I was able to counteract most of its effects, and you managed to pull through,” the gnome said. I recognized him as the mage that had accompanied us to the sawmill.

“I don’t think I ever learned your name,” I said.

“That’s right, well, now you’ll know. I’m Iznop,” the gnome said.

“Good to meet you Iznop. Thanks for helping me. What happened to my MESS?” I asked.

“It’s pretty beat up. Lumpy had the techs break in down into a few pieces so we could load it on the wagons. He’s been working on it every time we’ve stopped,” Iznop said.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“Just over three days. You didn’t miss much, just a boring trek through the forest. We should be out of this place and heading into the swamp by morning. Do you feel well enough to talk? Lumpy’s been bugging me to find out when you’re feeling up to giving a debrief,” Iznop asked.

“I should be good, I’m still a bit groggy, but I can stay awake for a while,” I answered. The drowsiness was still there, but my desire to know what had happened after I was conked out by the gas overrode it. Iznop jumped down from the wagon to go look for Lumpy.

“Rider’s approaching, to arms!” several of the gnomes on watch duty shouted. Moving around wasn’t easy, but I needed to find my gear and weapons if we were under attack.